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“I saw nuthin,” she repeated a third time, sticking to her story no matter what. And then, before we could continue our line of questioning, she simply darted away, and shot off into the woods, as if fired from a gun, afraid we might push her to reach deep and way beyond her limited vocabulary.

“That was weird,” said Dooley.

“Yeah, not very helpful,” I admitted.

We both stuck our noses in the air, to see if we couldn’t pick up any scents, and discovered that we could pick up plenty of them. Too many, in fact, as it appeared that half of Hampton Cove had been out here, which didn’t surprise me. Everyone wanted to take a peek at the crime scene, probably, and find out for themselves what was going on out here.

“I think this was a waste of time,” Dooley finally said.

Just then, I pricked up my ears, for I’d heard the engine of a car whine in the distance, working hard to haul a car up these hills and join us. “Did you hear that?” I asked.

“Someone’s coming,” Dooley said. Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Do you think it’s the killer? They always say killers return to the scene of the crime!”

“The crime’s been committed over a year ago, Dooley. Why would he wait until now to show up?”

“Because it’s taken until now for the body to be discovered!”

I had to concede he had a point, and we waited with bated breath for the killer to show his or her ugly face. But the car that finally made it up the steep incline was a very familiar one, and we both shared a happy grin.

“Great,” said Dooley. “We can hitch a ride back with Odelia.”

For it was indeed our human’s very own old Ford pickup that now crested the final stretch of road before the lodge, and hove into view.

Odelia stepped from the truck’s cabin and tentatively looked around. When she saw us sauntering from the shrubbery, she smiled. “Hey, you guys. What are you doing all the way out here?”

“We just thought we’d take a closer look at the crime scene,” I said as I curled myself around her leg and butted my head against her calf.

“Yeah, we thought we’d try to sniff out the killer,” Dooley added.

“And? Any luck?” she asked as she crouched down and scratched our necks. We both purred with contentment, our tails gently quivering.

“Lots of scents,” I said. “But hard to determine which one’s the killer’s.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to isolate the killer’s scent,” she said. “The crime was committed a long time ago. Lots of people have been here since.”

“So what are you doing out here?” I asked.

Odelia tapped her smartphone smartly.“Taking a couple of shots for my article.” She walked over to what was left of the outhouse and started snapping pictures, making sure she got it from all the different angles.

“Are you any closer to solving the murder?” asked Dooley.

“Nope,” she said, walking back to us. “I talked to two women who had a run-in with Paulo Frey, and they both told me what a dreadful man he was. Really spiteful and extremely mean. It seems he hated both gays and women, and gay women even more, and liked to harass them and destroy them.”

“A real sweetheart, huh?” I asked as I watched Odelia approach the lodge to take a couple of snaps there. It was a fairly small structure, completely constructed from dark oak, with a nice verandah, where Hetta had installed the Jacuzzi. Writers enjoyed soaking in the hot tub while experiencingthe great outdoors and gazing up at the stars twinkling above. If it didn’t inspire them to write the great American novel, at least it relieved their arthritis.

“So no leads?” asked Dooley.

“Well, the two women I talked to both had alibis, so that was a dead end, but it made me think…”

“Uh-huh?” I asked encouragingly.

She paused, a frown appearing on her smooth brow.“If Frey was the kind of monster they made him out to be, and I don’t doubt they were telling me the truth, he must have had other enemies. And maybe one of them finally decided enough was enough and put a stop to the harassment. Permanently.”

I shared a quick look with Dooley. This was our cue.“Talking about harassment,” I began. “Have you considered suggesting to Chase Kingsley that his cat ought to be neutered?”

But Odelia was already walking around to the other side of the lodge, snapping more pictures. And that’s when I heard another car pulling up.

“Uh-oh,” I said, alarmed. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

“The killer!” cried Dooley.

I checked the car that now appeared over the rim.“Close, but no cigar.”

Chapter 14