The Detectives

By Dawn Greenfield Ireland

The Detectives by Dawn Greenfield Ireland is book 3 in the Katz' Cat Cozy Mystery series.
Jimmy Katz, heir to the Katz-Diaz empire in Twinkle, Texas, 385 miles from the closest shopping mall, never has a dull moment with his two conniving animals.
Guppy, an Amazon parrot, and Maddy, his cat are a picture of innocence. They learn language skills while watching children’s programs on TV.
The town experiences a rash of identity thefts, one ending in murder. The thieves empty bank accounts. Meaty, the Foo IT guy, is on the trail.
The secret cameras Jimmy installed catches his animals watching Boris the Russian’s YouTube videos on identity theft. They stumble upon who the bad guy is, but Jimmy realizes Meaty will have to come to the same conclusion for the police to make an arrest.
Jimmy writes an article for the Twinkle Independent News (TIN) about how to stay safe on the internet. Then there’s the incident at the Starlight Ballroom...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dawn Greenfield Ireland - Artistic Origins
• Release date: Feb 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781940385853

Dawn Greenfield Ireland

Dawn Greenfield Ireland is the author of several award-winning novels, nonfiction books, and screenplays. To date she has 21 published books that consists of four series (cozy mystery, YA science fiction/fantasy, adult shape-shifter, and dystopian), sci-fi romance adventure, and nonfiction work, which includes online courses. See also my adult shapeshifter books (Bonded) under the name of DG Ireland.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Jimmy Katz sat at a weathered table at the Biggem Diner with his best friends, Brian McKinley, and Danny Stonerich. No one bothered with a menu as they had the same thing practically every day. Danny grabbed two sugar packets and slid them under a table leg to stabilize the wobble.

A woman walked up to the table, order pad in hand. The three men stared at her, then her name tag.

Duanna Oatmeal.

Danny snickered. Jimmy kicked him.

Hi, are you new here? Jimmy was positive he had never seen her before.

How do you say your first name? Brian asked.

I just started today, the woman admitted. My name is pronounced DEW-ONNA, not Anna, because that would be just toooo easy. But, call me Oatie.

Oatie? Danny repeated.

Yeah, I’ve been called that since grade school, during all the bullying I lived through, Oatie scowled.

Some parents don’t think about what their kids will have to deal with, Jimmy added sympathetically. I was teased with every cat reference you could think of.

Oatie raised her eyebrows thinking about it. What’s your name?

Jimmy Katz. He spelled it for her.

You’re that billionaire, right? Oatie thought it was strange for someone with that kind of wealth to be eating at the diner. She made a fist and presented it to Jimmy. Solidarity with child naming issues. They fist-bumped. What can I get for you guys today?

Our usual, but since you just started, here’s the lineup, Danny relayed. I’ll have a tuna salad on rye with a side of fries.

Brian was next. Same here but with a side of fruit.

Same here, with the fruit, Jimmy chimed in. Iced tea all around.

Got it. I’ll be back with your tea in a sec. Oatie took off toward the order window.

She seems nice. Jimmy raised his eyebrows at Danny.

Danny Stonerich, son of the publisher of the Twinkle Independent News, otherwise known as the TIN, hadn’t had a date in forever. Both Jimmy and Brian had girlfriends, but it was awkward to go out as a group with Danny being the third or fifth wheel.

Danny didn’t have a good dating history. He was the opposite of Deuce, the sports writer at the paper. Kingston (Deuce) Bainbridge had a string of women that could wrap around Starlight County twice. Every once in a while, one of his ex-girlfriends would storm into the newspaper and confront the Casanova and air out their dirty secrets to anyone within listening distance.

Danny, like Brian and Jimmy, were writers first. Everything else, relationships included, came second. It was a lot for a potential girlfriend to wrestle with. How do you compete with a career? In Danny’s case, the wealth of the Stonerich family intimidated a lot of the women he wanted to date. You’d think it would be just the opposite with them wanting to snag a rich guy.

When Oatie returned to the table with the tea pitcher and filled their glasses, Danny silently studied her. She was at least five-foot-six, had beautiful blonde hair up in a twisted knot, and expressive blue eyes. The waitress was slender, but with some arm definition, so Danny figured she must work out. He didn’t spy a ring on her finger, a tan definition of a former band, or an indent where one had been recently. The trio of clues concluded with an assumption that she was single.

Oatie, are you from around here? I don’t remember seeing you before, Danny inquired.

I’m from Dime Water. Just moved here last week and I’m slowly finding my way around town.

Jimmy and Brian kicked Danny. He stifled a curse and controlled a grimace.

Oh, I’ve lived here all my life. I could show you around when you have time off. Danny grinned.

Oatie stared at him for a second, wondering what the deal was. She decided he was just a nice guy. That would be great. I’m off at six most days, but my day off is Tuesday.

How about tomorrow after work? Danny unconsciously held a breath as they exchanged phone numbers.

A few minutes later, she brought their food to the table then rushed off to another table waiting to order.

For the first few bites, their lunch was totally silent with the elephant in the room. Danny had a hint of a chance with Oatie. The men stared at each other. Maybe Danny could potentially have a girlfriend to make their event circle even.

After a swift kick to Jimmy, Brian blurted everyone’s thoughts. She seems like a nice girl.

Ask questions about her when you show her around town. Jimmy nodded enthusiastically at Danny. Find out if she has hobbies, or things you have in common.

Brian pointed his finger and thumb as if shooting a gun at Danny. "It’s all up to you, Danny-boy. If you want a relationship, get in the game."

They finished up lunch, left a healthy tip on the table under the salt shaker, and paid at the register. They hopped into Jimmy’s car and drove back to the TIN.

You need to vacuum your car, dude, Brian complained from the back seat. Bird seed’s everywhere.

Seriously? Sorry about that. I’ll go over to the carwash later. Guppy can be a big mess. Jimmy apologized.

His Amazon parrot called the shots from the back seat anytime he was in the car. Since moving to Twinkle, Guppy’s language skills had improved greatly because of two influences: Mrs. Potts, their landlady, and Maddy, his cat who watched children’s shows on TV. Slowly but surely, the former sea captain’s colorful language was falling off Guppy’s list of favorite words.

When Jimmy first adopted the parrot, most of the bird’s words required censorship. He knew Mrs. Potts scolded the bird often, but he attributed the change to Maddy’s favorite shows on TV.

Why doesn’t Guppy fly away when you bring him and Maddy out to the gazebo? Danny wondered. Were his wings clipped?

No, the sea captain who had him for a couple of decades, was very cruel. He’d hit Guppy anytime he tried to fly in his cabin on the ship, Jimmy revealed. When I adopted him, he was very intimidated, and it took a couple of years for him to realize there would be no whacking coming from me.

You have any idea how old he is? Danny didn’t know a thing about how birds aged.

He’s somewhere around forty. I took him to a bird expert shortly after I adopted him to make sure I knew how to take care of him. She told me Guppy would eventually come around, but the sea captain traumatized him to the point where he didn’t trust humans, and was afraid to fly, Jimmy explained.

That would make a great article, Brian announced.

Jimmy drove the car into the TINs parking lot and they marched in through the back door. Brian and Danny strode to their desks and woke their laptops to tackle their assigned columns for the next edition of the paper. Jimmy tapped the open door of Bill Trance’s office.

His manager was gleefully circling bloopers in out-of-town newspapers with a red marker. He looked up. Hey, Jimmy.

Hey, Bill. Do you ever contact those editors about their horrible editing?

Every week. I receive colorful responses. They don’t seem to care that their editing misses so many things on the front three pages, Bill explained. What’s the rest of your day look like?

Moses will try to knock me down a few times at the dojo. Toombs will make sure I don’t shoot Klive as he retrieves our targets. He really needs to have more faith in me, Jimmy uttered.

Sounds like a good day, Bill replied.

Tomorrow it’s more corporate. I’ll be at the DDS office for a couple of hours or so to fill my head with more legalese, then I’ll go to Aunt Betty’s for two Zoom meetings.

Sounds exciting. You might want to reel in your enthusiasm, Bill joked.

When Bill Trance and Sylvan Stonerich discovered Jimmy was the heir to the billion-dollar Katz-Diaz fortune, everything changed. Betty had seen his name in the paper and called Sylvan. They brought Jimmy before Betty and she looked him over. He was the spitting image of his late father, Errol Katz. From that point on, the young reporter was thrust into learning all aspects of the far-reaching Katz-Diaz empire.

Jimmy’s great aunt Betty was in her 90s, but didn’t have a frail bone in her body. She held a Level 5 in Tai Chi, and could still hit the bullseye in a target with her Ruger GP 100 10mm automatic. She stood on her head every day, and talked to her plants.

The only thing that had changed in Jimmy’s life was that he wore nicer clothes, thanks to Hector and Jorge at Hector’s Men Store. They were experts when it came to fitting clothes to a body type and matching the best colors for skin, hair and eyes. Jimmy still lived at the boarding house, and still drove his second-hand Honda CRV.

Sylvan wandered down the hall and tapped on Bill’s open doorframe. Can anyone join this party?

Hey, Sylvan, what’s up? Jimmy grinned at the big boss.

Going to the printer to check the proofs of the new full-color monthly magazine, Sylvan announced with pride. It’s finally becoming a reality.

That’s fantastic! You’ve waited a long time for this moment. Jimmy remembered when Sylvan mentioned the project a year ago and was going to assign the late Gigi Thompson to head it up. That was before she went on her murdering spree.

Jimmy sauntered through the door of the DDS offices and headed to the conference room where the meetings always took place. Pete Daigle, Judson Diaz, and Godfrey (Stoney) Stonerich were sitting at the table. This was the smaller room, but it still had the phone in the middle of the table, all the connections for laptops and other devices, and even a big screen on the wall for projections.

Am I late? Jimmy took inventory of the partners. Junior Stonerich’s chair was empty.

Pete glanced at his fancy wristwatch. Nope, 9:00, right on time.

For a small town, you’d think there wouldn’t be a need for so many attorneys. But the DDS took care of all Betty’s legal matters, in addition to the other mega wealthy families: the Andrajulas and their spice business. The Jiltson’s natural medicines. The Morales’s booze empire. And, of course, the Stonerich media group.

Junior wandered into the room holding a thick file with a red sticky flag about a third of the way in. He slid into his chair. The younger Stonerich hadn’t made partner yet, but he was kept busy with the occasional public defender position, and the massive overflow from the partners.

Jud, I’ve gone through this file twice, and it’s missing the signed agreement, Junior relayed. I’ve looked at every page to make sure it wasn’t out of order, or stapled to the wrong thing.

Junior slid the file folder across the table.

Judson Diaz flipped the file open to the red flag. He went backwards a few pages, then forward. No signed agreement. Have you checked the copier?

No, I didn’t think about that, Junior admitted. He was out of his chair and out the door in a flash.

Judson eased the office phone toward him and hit a button. Cheryl, do you have the signed agreement for the Banner estate? He listened. Go catch Junior at the copier before he wrecks it.

The attorney eyed his partners. Jimmy didn’t know the inside joke. Stoney noticed the heir’s expression. Junior doesn’t have a mechanical bone in his body and can wreck anything in less than ten seconds... with good intentions.

Don’t even let him try to fill your stapler, Pete quipped.

Junior returned with the signed agreement. Cheryl had it. She three-hole punched it for me.

Everyone smiled.

Okay, let’s move forward, Stoney waved the problem aside. Jimmy, today we’re going to go through the basics of the oil leases and mineral rights.

After two numbing hours at the DDS, Jimmy headed over to his aunt Betty’s mansion where he found the matriarch frantically crocheting in the sitting area of her office. He knew it was crocheting, not knitting, because his mother taught him the difference when he was a boy. He could crochet and knit with the best of them, and had once made his father a pair of socks that actually looked like socks.

What’re you making, Aunt Betty?

I’ve got the town ladies making doilies for the elderly in assisted living and nursing homes, she answered without looking up.

Oh, that sounds like fun. Are men included in this crocheting endeavor?

They certainly are. Do you have your own hook, or do you need one? I have plenty of yarn. Betty raised her brows.

I had a set of different size hooks and knitting needles, but I haven’t seen them in a long time, Jimmy admitted.

Betty laid her project aside and pulled her yarn supply bag onto her lap. She dug through it and examined things she discovered. Before long, she handed Jimmy a smaller bag that contained yarn and a hook. Here you go.

Are you following a specific pattern?

No, just make a doily however you want it to look. The old timers will appreciate it. Betty winked. She stood and headed toward her desk. We’ll be Zooming with the heads of Dorrington Plastics in Belfast. We’ll break for dinner before our second meeting.

What time is it in Belfast, and what’s the agenda? Jimmy knew his aunt had the meeting all planned out.

It’s a little after 5:00 in Ireland. We’ll be discussing their changeover from plastic to glass. That will include the name change, branding changes, the manufacturing changes—this will be a lengthy process. When we bought them, there was a lot of pushback, but once they understood where I was coming from, it was easier to talk with them. Betty was relieved it wouldn’t be a difficult transformation.

Plastic is evil, Jimmy stated. People don’t realize the harm it causes to not only the environment, but to their internal systems from absorbing all those chemicals.

Save that for the Dorrington people, Betty conveyed, then she hit the Zoom button on her desktop.

CHAPTER TWO

The Dorrington people had been in a chatty good mood for once, so the meeting went on and on. Betty rescheduled the second Zoom meeting that was supposed to follow the Belfast meeting for the following morning, so Jimmy would have the rest of the afternoon to himself.

The Cat Spay and Neuter Project was headed up by Andy Devine in Boston. There was only one hour difference between Twinkle and Boston, so the call was scheduled for 9:00 a.m., Twinkle time. Aunt Betty would brief him over breakfast, after which time they would Zoom.

Jimmy was shocked to discover that the US had between 60 and 100 million stray cats. Those numbers were conservative since the majority of those cats had never been spayed or neutered. Betty found Andy through a third party and determined it was a good project to fund.

Since meeting up with Betty, Andy had created a network of volunteers, veterinarians, shelters and the like all across the country. The cats would be microchipped at the time of their surgery to make it easier to track them. It was a movement that worked city to city across the states. The majority of the vets who came on board would devote specific hours for the spay-neuter-chip project.

The Katz-Diaz organization also funded creature comfort levels, such as warm boxes in winter, shaded areas in hot climates, food and water in areas where the cats could not support themselves on the streets, or in the wild.

The project made Jimmy grateful he had found Maddy. His sweet kitten could easily have become a statistic. He never did find her mother or any siblings. It also brought to mind the people who so easily disposed of their cats and dogs without any thought at all. They most likely figured they were animals and they wouldn’t starve on the streets.

House cats had better survival rates than dogs, but even with good hunting skills, in cities they are run over by vehicles, or poisoned. Their life spans are shortened from those of a house cat with the chance of living twelve to fifteen years, to barely five years as a stray. When Jimmy listened to the nightmares Andy told them during their calls it gave him bad dreams.

Jimmy sent a text to Ramirez, Danny and Brian: Who wants to learn how to crochet doilies for the old geezers? I’ll provide the supplies and instructions.

Ramirez responded first in his authentic way. Crocheting? Seriously?

Jimmy guffawed loudly. He responded: Yes, crocheting. Aunt Betty is in charge of the project. You can either join in or be a total wimp.

A few minutes passed, most likely cussing loudly, but Ramirez finally capitulated. Okay. When and where?

Jimmy texted: Tonight. 7:00 my place.

Brian was next. I think I learned that in grade school, but not sure if I remember how. You teaching?

Jimmy texted: Yes. Come upstairs at 7 tonight.

Next up was Danny. Isn’t that a woman’s thing?

Jimmy had fun with his response: Are you all of a sudden sexist? Anyone can crochet. A lot of men knit. Get your butt over here tonight at 7.

Celebrity Masters clomped up the stairs to Jimmy’s apartment at Mrs. Potts’ boarding house. She tapped on the door and announced herself, more for Guppy’s amusement than to let Jimmy know she had arrived.

WHO’S THERE? Guppy belted out.

Celebrity pinched the door open, then stuck her head inside the apartment. "It’s