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

“You know these guys?” She shouldn’t have been surprised. Dan probably knew everyone in Hampton Cove. That’s what happened when you published a weekly paper for over forty years.

“Oh, sure. I remember when they were little, Jason used to get into all kinds of trouble, and Joshua would then try to get him out of it. They were like brothers, those two.”

“Still are, from what I understand.”

Dan leaned forward. “What surprises me is Melanie having an affair. She doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Do you have to be a certain type to have an affair?” asked Odelia a little ironically.

“Well, yeah, I think so. Take you, for instance. I can tell you for a fact that you will never cheat on your husband, and neither will your husband ever cheat on you.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” she quipped.

He quirked a bushy white eyebrow. “I’m being serious here, Odelia. It’s human psychology. You and Chase simply aren’t wired that way.”

“And Melanie Myers isn’t either?”

“I didn’t think so. Though if what you’re saying is true, then obviously I was wrong. Maybe my mischief radar isn’t as tuned as well as I thought.”

“So what do you think, boss? Do I take the case or not?” She eagerly awaited his response. She enjoyed these infrequent forays into the world of sleuthing, though if Dan told her to say no, she would. He was, after all, the boss. The guy paying the bills.

“Do you see a story in there?” he asked.

“Um…”

He shrugged. “Just say yes. If Melanie really is having an affair behind her husband’s back, maybe it’s a good thing that Joshua is watching out for his friend. If nothing else we can always use it for our Dear Gabi column.”

A wide smile spread across Odelia’s face. “Thanks, Dan,” she said, getting up. “You won’t regret it.”

“And get busy on that article about your wedding!” he called after her. “I want to see pictures of your grandma completely plastered and so does everyone else in Hampton Cove!”

Chapter 3

I don’t know if you’ve ever been an assistant private sleuth? You haven’t? I can tell you right now that you haven’t missed much. Basically what sleuths do is sit in their cars and spy on people. Mostly people being unfaithful to their spouse. And then they try to take pictures of this act of adultery, as I think the technical term is, and show it to the husband or wife. Though in this case, I guess, we were doing things a little differently, as the photographic proof of Mrs. Myers’s infidelity would not go to her husband but to her husband’s childhood friend.

And so it was that we were following Mrs. Myers around for the better portion of the day, and making sure we were in a position to catch her in the act. Odelia had picked her up as she left the house—and a very nice house it was, too, and one she would probably stand to lose if she kept up this infidelity thing—and then we trailed her all through town. Which basically meant we tailed her to the real estate agency where she worked as a broker, and sat there twiddling our thumbs for the better part of the morning.

At one point Odelia had ventured inside, just to make sure our quarry was still present and accounted for, and hadn’t fled through the backdoor for some secret canoodling. But Melanie Myers had still been at her desk. In fact she’d been the one to join Odelia at the reception desk and ask her if she was in the market for a house. She’d of course immediately recognized Odelia as a new bride, and chatting had ensued.

“Oh, God,” said Odelia the moment she let herself tumble down into her car seat, “I’m probably the worst private detective in the world. What was I thinking, going in there? Now she’s seen my face and when she sees me next she’ll know I’m following her around!”

“What did she say?” I asked. “Does she know you’re tailing her?”

“I don’t think so,” said Odelia with a shake of the head. “She asked me a lot of questions about the wedding, and wanted to know what dress I wore and all that guff.”

“She’s not one of those people who are mad with you for not inviting them to the wedding, is she?” asked Harriet.

“No, I don’t think she was invited. Though maybe she was. In the end there were so many people inviting themselves I have no idea who was and who wasn’t!” She rubbed her face. “Maybe I should do a course. Sleuthing for dummies or something. I’m sure there are tricks of the trade I should master before I put myself out there like this.”

“You’re doing great,” said Dooley, who always likes to take a positive view of things.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dooley,” said Odelia as she glanced through the windshield at the real estate agency across the street. It was called ‘wefindyourdreamhomeforyou.com’ and was a popular place, with plenty of customers walking in and out, and others stopping to do some window shopping. “At least now I know she’s still in there and not in some hotel or motel with her suspected lover boy.”

“Who is this lover boy?” asked Harriet, who was very interested in this case, I felt. But then Harriet is really into things like The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, and I guess infidelity and relationship issues are part and parcel of those types of dating shows.

“I have absolutely no idea,” said Odelia. “And as far as I could tell Joshua doesn’t have any idea either. Which is probably why he hired me: to find out who this guy is.”

“If he even exists,” I said.

“Oh, he exists, all right,” said Harriet. “Did you see the woman’s face? She looks much too happy. I’d say she’s been having a torrid affair for quite some time. No married person ever looks this