The Mysteries of Max: Books 25-27

Chapter 34

“We should probably stop meeting like this,” Charlene said as she stepped into Alec’s squad car.

“Yeah, people are starting to talk,” Alec agreed as he planted a kiss on the Mayor’s lips.

“We’ll have to tell them, Alec.”

“Not now,” he said. “It’s too soon.”

“If we don’t tell them now I might not have a career left, and neither will you.”

“Let’s keep it to ourselves just a little while longer,” he said. “You know what people are like. The moment they start sticking their noses in, the thing might go belly-up.”

“I know, but still…”

“Just a couple more days. Until the whole thing is in the bag.”

She sighed. “All right. But at least tell your family. They’ll start to think you’re up to no good.”

The Chief smiled a mischievous smile. “And maybe they’re right.”

“Oh, no,” said the Mayor. “You’re up to something good—a lot of good, in fact. Too bad we have to keep it a secret.”

The Chief started up the car and drove off at a slow clip. “Just a while longer, my sweet. And then this will all be over…”

Since the house was now under different command—in fact both of our houses were—we decided to relocate to Hampton Cove, and go for our usual morning walk and take in some of the sights and sounds. Most importantly, though, we felt the need to share our tragedy with our friends. Misery loves company, after all, and since our misery was so great, we needed a lot of company.

We passed by Kingman, the unofficial feline mayor of our town, and poured our heart out to the big cat.

“I hear you,” he said, casting a casual glance at two pretty felines passing by his store. “Lucky for me Wilbur isn’t big on hygiene, personal or otherwise. He does his own cleaning, which pretty much consists of him applying a broom to the floor once every two weeks, the vacuum cleaner once a month and a mop twice a year and that’s it.”

“You’re a very lucky cat, Kingman,” said Dooley, and he meant it, too.

“I’m sure this cleaning double act will simmer down soon,” said Kingman. “After all, Odelia is the paying client, and if Odelia wants her cats to have the run of the house, there’s nothing these Trainor twins can do about it.”

“But what if they convince Odelia that she should kick us out?” I asked. “They sounded very convincing. And Odelia and Marge seem determined to keep them on.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that either. Plenty of cleaners in the sea, I mean. Two can play that game, fellas. If you complain long and loud enough to your human about Blanche and Bella, she’ll kick them out instead of you—just you wait and see!”

The prospect of kicking Blanche and Bella out bucked me up to no end, and I could tell that Dooley, too, seemed elated at the prospect.

“I think you should relax. Who’s more important to Odelia, the cats she’s owned and loved since just about forever, or a cleaner she just met?” He gave us a wink. “If you ask me, it’s a no-brainer. Now where is lovely Harriet and why didn’t she join you?”

“Lovely Harriet is scheming with Brutus and trying to come up with a way of entering her own home.” Harriet had thrown a hissy fit when she found the pet flap locked.

“If I were Bella I’d watch my back,” said Kingman after I’d explained to him what had happened. “Harriet has some very sharp claws on her, and she can bear a grudge like no one else can.”

He was right. If I were a betting cat, and I can assure you that I am not, my money was on Harriet if things got physical.

“So you see?” said Kingman, stifling a yawn. “Nothing to worry about. Now what I would advise you to look into is this business with your human’s uncle and Mayor Butterwick.”

“What about them?” I asked. Now that my own worries were allayed to some extent, I was open to listen to someone else’s woes for a change and maybe try to find a solution.

“They keep sneaking off together. People say to their love nest. Neglecting their duties. It wouldn’t surprise me if calls wouldn’t start going out for the Mayor to be replaced and your Uncle Alec, too. They’re not exactly making themselves popular lately.”

I nodded. “The article,” I said sagely.

“Tip of the iceberg, Max. There’s a lot of resentment, and people are talking, and even though they have their fans, they have their enemies too. And plenty of them.”

This didn’t sound good. In fact it sounded like something I didn’t associate with either Uncle Alec or Charlene. But when I told Kingman that they were both conscientious people and consummate professionals, he shrugged and said, “You can never tell. People will surprise you every time, and not always in a good way. Now take my Wilbur for instance. I know he’s not exactly a Casanova but did you know he spends every waking hour on those dating apps? Yep, Wilbur is looking for love. He’s looking for Mrs. Right.”

We all glanced up at Wilbur. His jaw, missing more than one tooth, was moving wordlessly as he watched a barely-clad model demonstrating a Stairmaster on the Home Shopping Network and he almost fell off his chair laughing when she fell off her machine. Crumbs flecked his beard, and his hair looked as if it had been washed in burger grease.

Yup, whoever landed Wilbur was one lucky lady.