The Mysteries of Max: Books 25-27

Chapter 31

Being locked up inside an office with one cat who seemed annoyed to be in our presence (Harriet), one cat who was anxious to get home and be near his litter box (Brutus) and one dog who had been doing nothing but eat since we got there (Rambo) isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.

And we had this mysterious cat killer to thank for it. He might not have taken our lives, but he’d certainly taken our freedom now that Odelia had decided we should stick close to either her or another member of her family until this attacker was caught.

Odelia had arranged for a large helping of dog kibble to be delivered to her office, and a (slightly less large) helping of cat kibble, and for once we all got to share one big bowl of water, but apart from that, the situation was less than ideal.

“I’d take you home but I have to finish this story,” she said when I gave her a troubled look.

She’d opened the back door, which led out onto a sort of small courtyard where we could do our business if we needed to, in the tiny patch of greenery, and amongst Dan Goory’s roses, of which he was particularly proud, but that was pretty much it.

“Here,” she said when I continued to give her less-than-happy glances, and handed me a tablet computer. “Make yourselves useful and try to figure out where I can find Charlene’s uncle’s former associate, will you? His name is Brett Cragg.”

So we gathered around the tablet computer, Brutus, Dooley and I, and started idly surfing the web, in search of a clue as to where we could find this Brett Cragg person.

He wasn’t on Facebook, though, and not on LinkedIn either, or Twitter or Instagram. In fact we didn’t find a trace of him anywhere, which made me think he was one of those rare individuals who didn’t spend their every waking hour poring over social media.

“Max?” whispered Brutus, darting a surreptitious eye at Odelia. “Maybe we can escape!”

“Escape?” I said. “Why do you want to escape? We’re safe in here. No one can get at us as long as we stay close to Odelia and Rambo.” Trading one’s safety for one’s freedom is a tough bargain, but one I’d grudgingly embraced. Not so, apparently, my friend.

“But we talked about this, Max,” he said. “We were going to recruit Clarice. She can be the one protecting us from now on. And I think she’ll probably do a better job than Rambo.”

We both cast a quick glance at the big dog, who was now snoring loudly, drool bubbling on his lips and dripping onto Odelia’s nice office carpet. He’d already eaten half a bag of dog kibble, and I had the distinct impression that second half wouldn’t last much longer either.

“All he does is sleep and eat,” said Brutus, and not unreasonably either. “I don’t think he’s cut out to be a guard dog.”

“No, he doesn’t seem to be the guard dog Odelia had envisioned when she hired him,” I agreed.

“So why don’t we slip out the back now, and see if we can’t find Clarice?!”

Dooley didn’t seem overly excited by the prospect of this ‘great escape’ either.

“But what is Odelia going to say? She’ll be very upset with us if we run away.”

“Odelia will understand,” said Brutus. “If we explain to her why we did it, she’ll be okay.”

“And what about Harriet?” asked Dooley.

We all looked over to where Harriet was lying on a settee, idly licking her fur and pretending the rest of us didn’t exist.

“Harriet is still very upset with me,” said Brutus sadly. “So I don’t think she’ll exactly sound the alarm if we make a break for it now.”

“And what if Clarice says no?” I asked. “Then what do we do?”

“Then we come back here—chances are Odelia won’t even notice we’re gone.”

This time three pairs of cat’s eyes swiveled to our human, who was typing away at her desk, her focus on her story unwavering.

Brutus was right. Odelia probably wouldn’t notice if we took off for a little while.

“All right,” I finally said. “So let’s go and find Clarice.”

“I would feel a lot safer with Clarice in our corner,” Dooley said, trying to convince himself to go along with Brutus’s daring scheme.

“Of course you would!” said Brutus. “This cat killer is no match for Clarice. So let’s go already, before Rambo wakes up and alerts Odelia.”

And so our adventure began. Ever so quietly we snuck out of the office, down the corridor, then out into the miniature courtyard and then it was a cinch for us to scale the wall that surrounded Dan’s little patch of green and we were out.

“I hope she’s not out in the woods,” I said.

Clarice doesn’t have a fixed abode, like the rest of us do. She can usually be found searching the dumpsters behind the stores on Main Street, but she’s just as likely to hang out in the woods in the hilly area near our town, where Hetta Fried owns the Writer’s Lodge, a cabin she likes to rent out to writers and artists. And since said artists and writers are rich enough to be able to afford Hetta’s cabin in the woods, they’re usually not too stingy to share their copious meals with Clarice.

We quickly crossed the street and then we were traipsing along the sidewalk.

“See?” said Brutus. “This is perfectly safe. Even if this cat killer were still stalking us, which I think is unlikely, he would never abduct us in broad daylight, in front of all these people. There’s safety in numbers, fellas, and so we’ve got nothing to worry about!”

I still wasn’t exactly at ease, in spite of those numbers Brutus found so safe. It only took one maniac to snatch us from the street and deposit us in the back of his van and that would be it. Game over for us!

So when finally we reached the back alley that Clarice considers her own private property, I breathed a sigh of intense relief.

“Clarice?” I called out when we entered the alley. “Are you there?”

The dumpsters were full to the bursting point, as the town’s sanitation services had yet to pick them up, so there was every chance Clarice was around.

“Clarice!” Brutus called out. “We need to talk to you!”

“I don’t think she’s here,” said Dooley as we reached the end of the alley and still there was no sign of our feral friend.

“She could be out by the strip mall,” Brutus said. In lieu of an actual mall we have a modest strip of shops with a parking lot attached to it located on the road that leads into Hampton Cove. Shops that will probably all disappear when the big mall opens its doors.

“What are you yelling about?” suddenly a cranky voice sounded from underneath the dumpster closest to me.

“Clarice!” I said. “Am I glad to see you!”

“I’d love to say the same thing, but I’m not happy to see you,” she said, and yawned. “I was just having a nice nap, until you came along, with all your screaming and shouting. What do you want?”

“We have a proposition for you, Clarice,” said Brutus, plastering a wide smile onto his face.

“If you’re asking me to marry you, you can forget about it. I’m not the marrying type.”

“No, I don’t want to marry you!” said Brutus quickly.

She cocked her head and gave him a sly look. “Why? I’m not good enough for you? Is that it?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then what’s the problem? I’m too outspoken? Too loud? Too fond of my freedom?”

Brutus gave me a helpless look, and so I took over from him.

“We’ve been attacked,” I announced. “A madman shoved us into a sort of trunk or chest and set fire to us. It was only through sheer luck that we escaped with our lives.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” said Clarice, and casually licked a very sharp-looking claw. “But at the risk of sounding callous, what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, since the incident Odelia has tasked her boyfriend with our protection, and she’s also hired a retired police dog. Neither solution really sits well with us. Chase because he obviously hates the job of babysitting a brace of cats, and because he has his day job to think about, and the dog because, well, he doesn’t really seem to care.”

“So we thought of you, Clarice,” said Brutus fervently.

“That’s very nice of you, Brutus,” she said sweetly. “I always like it when cats think of me. Now just spit it out already, Max. What do you want?”

“We want you to watch over us. To be our bodyguard. To make sure this cat killer doesn’t come near us again.”

For a moment, Clarice simply stared at me, then she burst into a loud side-splitting laugh. “Me!” she cried. “Guard you lot!”

“Yes, that’s the general idea,” I said.

“She’s not going to do it,” said Dooley, shaking his head. “She thinks the idea is stupid.”

“Well, it is a stupid idea, Dooley,” said Clarice, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m not a guard cat—I can look after myself, sure. But to look after a couple of jelly-belly lily-livered pampered house cats like you guys? I’d have to be crazy to take the job!”

“For your information we’re not entirely pampered,” I said stiffly. “In fact I’d say we can take pretty good care of ourselves most of the time. But this cat killer—he just came out of nowhere. Took us by surprise.”

“And it wasn’t a nice surprise,” Dooley pointed out.

“And so another pair of eyes wouldn’t be a luxury.”

“Clarice, please help us,” said Dooley. “You’re the only one we can trust. And the only cat who’s so… so… so tough!”

Her smirk died away as she regarded Dooley. “Oh, Dooley, Dooley,” she said. “That’s very nice of you to say, honey, but I’m just not cut out for this kind of job. I’ve only ever had to take care of myself—and if I take on the responsibility of you guys and something happens to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

“I’m sure nothing is going to happen,” I said. “This cat killer—we haven’t seen a sign of him since it happened. But just to be on the safe side…”

“Yeah, just as a precaution, see,” said Brutus.

“I don’t want to die, Clarice,” said Dooley, directing a pleading look at the tough street cat. “I’m too young to die, and so are my friends. Won’t you please help us—please?”

She gave him a little smile, then finally screwed up her face. “Aah! I’m so going to regret this! Okay—fine! I’ll take the job! But if you go and die on me, I swear I’ll kill you!”