The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 Nic Saint (kiss me liar novel english .TXT) 📖

if you do pay, what guarantee do you have that they’ll give you back access to the computers?” asked Marge.

“Apparently these people are crooks but they’re also savvy business people. They know that if they don’t do as they promise, people will stop paying. So they actually are true to their word, as strange as it may sound.”

“Do all companies pay?” asked Marge as she poured Mr. Kramer some more wine.

“From what I can tell, many of them actually do, Mrs. Poole.”

“Yeah, it’s true,” said Chase. “Plenty of small business owners are attacked and many don’t even report it to the police anymore. I think the numbers are staggering, in fact.”

“But who’s behind all these attacks?” asked Odelia, intrigued by this story, and vowing to write an article about it in a future edition of the Gazette.

“Well, mostly these cybercriminals operate from abroad,” said Uncle Alec, who was, of course, also present—he never missed an opportunity to put his feet under the table at his sister and brother-in-law’s place. “Eastern Germany and Russia mostly. In other words, tough to get our hands on them.”

“This is just terrible,” said Marge, shaking her head.

“Yeah, it is pretty scary,” said Fred. “You suddenly stand to lose your entire business overnight. And we at Kramer Kitchen Kreation may run a successful business, but a million dollars is a lot of money, and would put a serious dent in our profits for the year.”

“At least this time the criminals didn’t get what they wanted,” said Scarlett, and raised her glass in a salute. “To Vesta Muffin, who once again showed that she is a true neighborhood watch leader, now even expanding into cyberspace!”

Everyone laughed, except Uncle Alec, who had never been a big fan of the watch.

“To Vesta,” said the Kitchen King. “Thank you, my dear lady. And I’ll be sure to translate my gratitude into a healthy discount on your kitchen remodel.”

When dinner was over, and Tex was getting their guests’ coats, Grace Kramer turned to Odelia. “I heard you’ve been in touch with my ex-husband,” she said, a slightly stilted smile on her face.

“Yeah, their cat had gone missing, and I was lucky enough to find it for them.”

“Let me give you a piece of advice, Miss Poole. Don’t get involved with Karl. And especially don’t believe a word the man says.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Did he tell you that he stole from Fred? We both used to work for him, Karl as Fred’s accountant, and me as his secretary. But that was before Fred discovered that Karl had been stealing from him. He should have gone to the police, but Fred is a good man, and he didn’t want to make things difficult for Karl, even though I told him to press charges.”

“You were still married to Karl when this happened?”

“I was. The whole business opened my eyes to what kind of man Karl is. I couldn’t stay with him after what I discovered. The stealing, the lying.” She shrugged. “Fred showed me what kind of man I’d married, and that was it. I never looked back, and I’ve never been happier. So please be careful, Miss Poole,” she said as she accepted her coat from Odelia’s dad. “The man talks a good talk, but he’s wicked.”

And with these words, she strode out in the wake of her husband.

Chapter 18

That night, we were all having a good time at cat choir, when suddenly Clarice appeared next to me, seemingly out of nowhere. Clarice has that tendency to simply materialize. I don’t know how she does it, but it’s a most disconcerting experience. First there’s nothing, and then suddenly she’s there. And she can disappear again in just the same way—just like a ghost.

“I found another dead body, Max,” she announced.

I did a double-take. “You did what?”

“Another dead body. I don’t know what it is with this town, but I keep finding dead bodies. First that body that was buried out in the woods, and now this new one.”

“You found another body in the woods?” I asked, leading her aside where we could talk without being overheard. If there’s one thing that’s disadvantageous about cat choir is that it’s filled with cats, and since cats like to spy and gossip more than anything, there’s nothing that you can discuss without it being all over town within minutes.

“No, this time I found it at the bottom of an elevator shaft,” said Clarice, who was talking about this dead body as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I was minding my own business as usual, and I happened to pass this new construction site on Carmel Street. And since these builders usually have nothing better to do than to sit around and eat, I figured I just might take a look at their dumpster—you’d be amazed what you can find in building site dumpsters. I once found an entire lobster there. And so I was hunting around for another precious find when I happened to smell something dead and decaying. And so naturally I went in search of the source of the smell.”

“Naturally,” I agreed, even though if I smelled something dead and decaying, I’d run a mile. But then that’s me, of course. One of those areas where Clarice and I differ.

“And that’s when I found him.”

“Him? So it’s a him?”

“Yep. Some dead dude, lying at the bottom of an elevator shaft, dead as a dodo.”

“Can you tell me exactly where you found this dead dude?” I asked dutifully, already figuring out how to reach Odelia and get the ball rolling on a rescue attempt—for in spite of Clarice’s words the man might not be dead yet, and could still be saved.

Clarice said, “I can do you one better. I’ll take you there. It’s not far from here.”

“Okay,” I said. “Show us the way, Clarice.”

And so we set out in Clarice’s wake: me, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus.

Clarice was right: it was only a ten-minute walk from the park