The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 by Nic Saint (interesting novels in english txt) 📕

The burly cop shrugged and dragged his hands through his shaggy mane. “He was right there when it happened, babe. Maybe John Doe saw him release those cats and Karl got scared and decided to get rid of the guy—with this custody battle hanging over him, and the prospect of losing his kids, maybe he simply panicked and shot the man.”

“It’s a possibility,” she had to admit.

“He doesn’t strike me as a killer, though, so for now we’re pursuing other avenues.” He picked up an Unidentified Person poster of which he had a whole stack on his desk, and said, “We’re distributing these now, and launching an appeal through local TV stations, hoping someone recognizes our Mr. Doe and gives us an ID. Because it’s hard to catch a killer if you don’t even know the name of the victim.”

Suddenly Odelia’s phone dinged and she looked down. “Well, what do you know?” she said. “Looks like we’re invited for dinner at my parents’ place tonight. And they’re proud to announce they’ve got a very special guest of honor.”

Chase laughed. “Let me guess: Fred Kramer?”

“How did you know?”

“Looks like Vesta will get her free kitchen remodel after all.”

“Collars! Get your collars!” Vesta was yelling.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Scarlett.

“Of course it’s a good idea! With all these catnappings, everybody wants a collar with inbuilt tracker. Collars! Get your collars! Never lose track of your precious pet again!”

They were in Town Square, where Vesta had dragged an entire box full of tracking collars. She’d found them in some dime store over in Happy Bays. And Scarlett had to admit they were selling like hotcakes. Already they’d sold a dozen, and word was clearly spreading for more and more pet owners were showing up to buy the gadgets.

“Vesta!” Father Reilly cried as he came hurrying up on his bike. The parish priest looked excited at the prospect of buying a collar for his cat. “Are you sure these work?” He was fingering a collar that looked as if it had gold thread woven through the material.

“Absolutely,” said Vesta. “These are top-of-the-line quality, Francis. All you need to do is slap one of these babies on Shanille, activate the device, and you’ll be able to track that sweet puss wherever she goes.”

The priest nodded. “How much?”

“For you? Fifty bucks—a real bargain!”

Scarlett eyed her friend narrowly, but Vesta pointedly ignored her.

“Listen, Vesta,” said Father Reilly as he took out his wallet, “I want back in.”

“Back in what?” asked Vesta as she accepted a crispy fifty-dollar note.

“The watch! I’m hearing so many good things about you—and Scarlett, of course,” he added with a nod in the latter’s direction. “I want to do my part to keep our community safe, the way you and Scarlett have so valiantly been doing. So what do you say?”

“Let me think about it,” said Vesta as she handed the priest his collar.

Father Reilly’s face lit up with a smile. “Great. You won’t regret this, Vesta. I’m highly motivated to go out and fight crime again. Oh, and while you’re at it, consider taking Wilbur back, too, will you? I know he’s raring to go.”

Vesta nodded, and they watched Father Reilly get back on his bike and ride off.

Scarlett turned to her friend. “Fifty bucks! Are you serious?”

“Safety comes at a price, Scarlett.”

“You just sold one to Fido Siniawski for twenty bucks!”

“It’s called inflation.”

“You bought those collars for a buck apiece!”

“So? I want to buy us a new car for the watch and cars don’t come cheap, you know. Collars! Get your collars! Keep your pets safe from the Hampton Cove catnapper!”

Scarlett shook her head. “You’re something else.”

Vesta grinned. “Thanks for the compliment. Now don’t just stand there—sell some collars before word gets out that the catnapper’s already been caught!”

That night, Odelia sat down for dinner with not only her own family, but also Hampton Cove’s resident Kitchen King and his wife, the lovely Mrs. Grace Kramer, formerly known as Grace Bunyon, though Odelia decided to keep that information to herself, as she didn’t think Mrs. Kramer would enjoy being reminded of the time she went through life as the wife of Karl Bunyon.

Mom and Gran had done their utmost to put an impressive dinner on the table, and their guests were suitably impressed with the French onion pork chops, green beans with almonds and caramelized onions and the homemade creamed potatoes. And for dessert there was peach cobbler and chocolate gooey butter cookies. Fred Kramer was as suave and garrulous as he was in the TV spots that had made him and his company famous, and he and his elegant wife Grace made the perfect dinner guests.

Fred was extremely grateful that Gran and Scarlett, who was also present, had saved his business from ruin, as he now called it. He’d talked things over with his IT department people, and it turned out that Scarlett’s nephew had indeed been able to thwart the attack by being in the right place at the right time and doing the right thing.

“I’m sorry for doubting you, my dear Mrs. Muffin,” said Fred now as he put down his utensils after having eaten his fill. “When my IT guy told me that Tex Poole was behind the attack, and then you told me that whole story, I wasn’t sure who to believe! But it’s pretty obvious to me now that you saved me a heck of a lot of grief.”

“And a lot of money!” said Gran proudly.

“A million dollars,” said Grace Kramer, shaking her red curls in astonishment. “Were you really going to have to pay that amount of money, darling?”

“Yeah, looks like,” said Fred ruefully. “Turns out these ransomware attacks are becoming more and more frequent and more and more sophisticated, and the people behind it are really good. So it’s almost inevitable that either you lose access to your entire computer system, and start from scratch, or that you pay through the nose.”

“And