forgot the cleaning products to look at Jimmy, and something thumped hard on the floor. When she turned away from the angry man, she found Nancy unconscious with her nose in the spilled macaroni.
Chapter Eleven
“What do we have here?” Peter asked as he traversed the subdued group. No one met his gaze except Margot. She smiled and gave him a little wave. He nodded a greeting.
Everyone from the party was still present except Dottie. When Nancy fainted, Dottie had started to cry, and Kenny took her home. He returned before Peter showed up.
“Nothing? No one wants to explain why I got a call down at the station—several different calls mind you, at the same time—each person accusing someone else of murder and that I needed to come and make an arrest right away? Does anyone here want to explain that?”
He stopped in front of Jimmy, who paled but found an interesting sight outside Nancy’s window. Odds sauntered over to Peter, crouched with his hindquarters sticking in the air, and then took a flying leap all the way up to Peter’s shoulder.
Margot cried out. “Odds, what are you doing? Get down.”
For his part, Peter didn’t even flinch. She wondered if it was a product of his training.
“He smells like a cat. He likes cats.”
She moved closer to Peter. “D-do you like cats, Peter?”
This time he did seem surprised at her continued insistence on the name change. “He’s fine.”
“See?”
Just for a minute, Margot’s doubts fell away, but then she noticed the dress shirt Peter wore had an animal’s hair on it in a couple different places, tan and black hair, not silver like Odds’. She sighed and backed away.
Peter cleared his throat. “At least two of the calls claimed you threatened Mrs. Armitage.”
“I wasn’t serious.” Jimmy’s normally confident if a little angry tone turned whiny. “I was just cheesed she accused me of killing Coley, which by the way I didn’t do!”
He tried glaring at Debra, but Peter blocked his view. “You’re talking to me. Now, why would she say that?”
“I don’t know. She’s nuts.”
Nancy, who had been convalescing in an armchair with an ice pack pressed to the bump on her head, revived enough to speak. “He’s being his usual rude and obnoxious self. He wasn’t invited to Margot’s party, and he ruined everything.”
“I ruined everything?” Jimmy pointed to himself and then to Debra. “She started it.”
“Are you children?” Peter snapped. “Enough! Now what I’m going to do—”
Greg stepped forward. “Detective, I want to apologize for my wife. She took the death very hard. She values all life. That’s why we are vegetarians and why we choose to grow all of our own food.”
“And why you want the third floor apartment,” Jimmy cut in.
Peter silenced him with a glare.
Greg continued. “We are all very different, but we are a close group here. We know Coley liked the bars, and he visited one at least once a week. Some bad person out there must have done this. We know that, so please just chalk those ridiculous calls you received down to temporary hot temperatures.”
“More like hot air,” Jimmy quipped.
“That’s what you think?” Peter asked.
Several heads bobbed yes. What else were they to surmise, Margot thought. She had talked to them and watched them all. Of course she was no detective, but even as angry as Jimmy got, he just didn’t seem like a killer and definitely not for a silly apartment.
Peter studied each of the faces in turn, including Margot’s. Odds curled his tail around Peter’s neck, and the detective reached an absent-minded hand up to pet him. “I’m sorry to inform you all my instinct tells me Coley Patterson’s murder happened a lot closer to home.”
The occupants of the room gasped.
“Let me mention several facts to you. Fact 1: It’s unlikely someone followed Coley Patterson all the way home from a bar to kill him. Fact 2: If they did, it’s unlikely they came all the
Chapter Eleven
“What do we have here?” Peter asked as he traversed the subdued group. No one met his gaze except Margot. She smiled and gave him a little wave. He nodded a greeting.
Everyone from the party was still present except Dottie. When Nancy fainted, Dottie had started to cry, and Kenny took her home. He returned before Peter showed up.
“Nothing? No one wants to explain why I got a call down at the station—several different calls mind you, at the same time—each person accusing someone else of murder and that I needed to come and make an arrest right away? Does anyone here want to explain that?”
He stopped in front of Jimmy, who paled but found an interesting sight outside Nancy’s window. Odds sauntered over to Peter, crouched with his hindquarters sticking in the air, and then took a flying leap all the way up to Peter’s shoulder.
Margot cried out. “Odds, what are you doing? Get down.”
For his part, Peter didn’t even flinch. She wondered if it was a product of his training.
“He smells like a cat. He likes cats.”
She moved closer to Peter. “D-do you like cats, Peter?”
This time he did seem surprised at her continued insistence on the name change. “He’s fine.”
“See?”
Just for a minute, Margot’s doubts fell away, but then she noticed the dress shirt Peter wore had an animal’s hair on it in a couple different places, tan and black hair, not silver like Odds’. She sighed and backed away.
Peter cleared his throat. “At least two of the calls claimed you threatened Mrs. Armitage.”
“I wasn’t serious.” Jimmy’s normally confident if a little angry tone turned whiny. “I was just cheesed she accused me of killing Coley, which by the way I didn’t do!”
He tried glaring at Debra, but Peter blocked his view. “You’re talking to me. Now, why would she say that?”
“I don’t know. She’s nuts.”
Nancy, who had been convalescing in an armchair with an ice pack pressed to the bump on her head, revived enough to speak. “He’s being his usual rude and obnoxious self. He wasn’t invited to Margot’s party, and he ruined everything.”
“I ruined everything?” Jimmy pointed to himself and then to Debra. “She started it.”
“Are you children?” Peter snapped. “Enough! Now what I’m going to do—”
Greg stepped forward. “Detective, I want to apologize for my wife. She took the death very hard. She values all life. That’s why we are vegetarians and why we choose to grow all of our own food.”
“And why you want the third floor apartment,” Jimmy cut in.
Peter silenced him with a glare.
Greg continued. “We are all very different, but we are a close group here. We know Coley liked the bars, and he visited one at least once a week. Some bad person out there must have done this. We know that, so please just chalk those ridiculous calls you received down to temporary hot temperatures.”
“More like hot air,” Jimmy quipped.
“That’s what you think?” Peter asked.
Several heads bobbed yes. What else were they to surmise, Margot thought. She had talked to them and watched them all. Of course she was no detective, but even as angry as Jimmy got, he just didn’t seem like a killer and definitely not for a silly apartment.
Peter studied each of the faces in turn, including Margot’s. Odds curled his tail around Peter’s neck, and the detective reached an absent-minded hand up to pet him. “I’m sorry to inform you all my instinct tells me Coley Patterson’s murder happened a lot closer to home.”
The occupants of the room gasped.
“Let me mention several facts to you. Fact 1: It’s unlikely someone followed Coley Patterson all the way home from a bar to kill him. Fact 2: If they did, it’s unlikely they came all the
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