Purrfect Betrayal by Nic Saint

Author:Nic Saint [Saint, Nic]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781072459682
Google: 1EAHxgEACAAJ
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2019-06-06T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

“So what’s the plan?” I asked as we were back on the road. “Where are we going?”

“First we’re going to have a little chat with Prunella Lemon. She’s the woman who wrote those Mellie Moose books,” said Gran, who appeared to be in a particularly good mood now that danger in the form of a doctor’s visit had been averted.

“Ellie Zeus,” Odelia corrected her. She directed a critical look at her grandmother. “And then after that I want to have a word with your drug dealer.”

“I don’t have a drug dealer,” said Gran. “I have a supplier of vitamins.”

“He’s a drug dealer, Gran, and the sooner you admit it the better.”

“I will not incriminate myself. He sold me vitamins and until you can prove otherwise I’ll believe that’s what he sold me. And for a bargain price, too.”

“And what do you want us to do?” I asked.

“Talk to anyone you can—try to find out what happened to Jeb and his ex-wife. I’m sure there will be plenty of pets at the club.”

“You say pets, but actually you mean dogs,” said Dooley.

“Dogs are pets, too, Dooley,” Odelia pointed out.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Dooley said quietly as he gave me a look of worry.

“I think it’s about time you let go of those ugly prejudices against dogs, boys,” said Odelia. “Otherwise you’ll never be truly great detectives.”

We both howled with indignation. “That’s not true!” I cried.

“We don’t have anything against dogs!” Dooley said.

“Oh, yes, you do. You don’t like dogs, you don’t like kittens, you don’t like birds. You boys need to widen your horizons. Become a little more tolerant of other species. Imagine if I only talked to women and refused to talk to men? Or only talk to people my age and refuse to talk to kids or the elderly. I wouldn’t be much of a detective, would I?”

“That’s different and you know it,” I said.

“It’s not, Max. Dogs are very perceptive, and they spend a lot of time with their humans, maybe even more so than cats, so they’re invaluable witnesses. Remember Ringo?”

Ringo was a Chihuahua belonging to a well-known and successful Broadway producer, and had provided us with a telling clue that had solved the murder of Odelia’s understudy in a recent Bard in the Park production.

“That’s different,” I said. “Ringo was a nice dog.”

“Most dogs are nice. Just give them a chance.”

“Most dogs hate cats,” Dooley pointed out.

“Just give them the benefit of the doubt, will you? It’s what I do every day.”

“Me, too,” said Gran. “Tolerance, my boys. Tolerance is key in this business. Love all creatures, great and small, and you will go far.” She glanced down at her phone. “That jerk Scarlett Canyon. She’s at it again. Just look at that bathing suit. Makes her look like a clown.”

Odelia was darting skeptical glances at her grandmother, and I decided to head off another discussion by asking a more important question: “So have you decided what’s going to happen to Bim, Bam

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