d5e426eccb138e04dab909926b2752c6

“What I find curious is what Marcia Gardner was doing at her brother’s house in the middle of the night,” said Chase.

“Probably discussing this succession business we’ve been hearing so much about,” said Uncle Alec.

“What did you do with that goatherd, Mom?” asked Odelia now.

“I didn’t throw it away if that’s what you think,” said Mom. “It’s in your father’s old office, waiting for him to glue it back together.” She gave her husband a pointed look, causing the latter to slightly wilt.

“I was going to do it this weekend,” he murmured.

“So the security guard for Garibo Enterprises keeps sending you mysterious letters,” said Charlene, summing things up, “the Gardners are locked in a succession battle, a girl was found dead who bears a striking resemblance to a woman who went missing twenty years ago… I really can’t make heads nor tails of this whole business.”

“All I know is that a murder was committed, and I’m going to find out who did it,” said Uncle Alec. “All the rest… is just noise as far as I’m concerned. Stuff designed to distract us.”

But this noise, Odelia thought, was what made the whole thing so fascinating—and so difficult to figure out.

She glanced down at her cats, who were lazily lounging underneath her chair.

“Max,” she whispered when Charlene wasn’t looking, “how would you feel about an assignment?”

“Sure,” said the large blorange cat. “What do you want me to do?”

She quickly glanced in Charlene’s direction, but the Mayor was too busy talking to Uncle Alec, giving her opinion on the case.

“I want to pay another visit to Bobby Garibaldi—this time without subterfuge. And I want you and Dooley to join me.”

“Sure thing,” said Max, and she tickled his fuzzy neck in gratitude.

She rejoined the conversation, and discovered that the atmosphere had turned a little acrimonious.

“You disparaged my watch!” Gran was saying, pointing an accusatory finger at Chase.

“I did no such thing!” said Chase.

“I said it was war, and I meant it. Which is why Scarlett and I will do whatever it takes to find Vicky Gardner, and prove to you once and for all that the watch can run rings around your police department. Rings, I tell you!”

Chase let out a curt bark of laughter and shook his head.

“And now he’s laughing in my face!” said Gran, throwing up her arms.

“I think Chase is simply relieved that you’re not actually waging war against him, Gran,” said Odelia.

“What do you mean?” asked the old lady with a frown.

“When you said it was war, he thought you might sneak into our bedroom at night and murder him in his bed.”

Now it was Gran’s turn to laugh an incredulous laugh. “Me? Murder your fianc?? Are you nuts? I’m the most peace-loving woman on the planet. I abhor violence. I detest it. I’m the kindest, sweetest soul on the face of the earth!”

Now they were all laughing, much to Gran’s indignation. Even Max and Dooley were giggling, and Brutus and Harriet, who’d been sleeping under Gran’s chair.

“Ma, you’re a sweetheart, don’t get me wrong,” said Uncle Alec, “but peace-loving and non-violent? I don’t think so.”

“This is too much,” said Gran, and got up and threw down her napkin. She darted angry glances at all those present. “You mark my words—my watch is going to solve this case. And you’ll all eat crow!”

And then she was off.

“Just promise me you won’t get yourself arrested again!” Uncle Alec yelled after her.

“Oh, go to hell!” Gran yelled back.

And then the most peace-loving woman on the planet slammed the screen door—hard.

Chapter 39

Bobby Garibaldi lived in a pretty sweet condo in a new apartment complex near his factory. As Odelia had correctly surmised he was still home when we rang his bell at ten o’clock on the dot. And when he appeared in the door, he was toweling his hair, only dressed in aquamarine boxers with a pink elephant motif.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, not sounding overjoyed. “Anastasia Kuranova, was it?”

“My apologies again for the ruse, Mr. Garibaldi,” said Odelia as she walked into the apartment, Dooley and I right on her heel. “It’s just that someone told us that you don’t talk to reporters or cops, so we had to find some other way of approaching you.”

“Who told you I don’t talk to reporters?” he asked with a frown as he walked up the stairs, presumably to put on some more clothes.

“One of your security guards,” said Odelia.

“I talk to reporters all the time,” Garibaldi called down from the landing, then disappeared for a moment, before returning, this time wearing a nice powder-blue shirt that he was buttoning up. “As the CEO of a candy factory, I give press conferences. I give interviews. I even organize press junkets every time we launch a new product.”

“The story was that you hate reporters for the stories they wrote about your aunt,” Odelia explained. “And the police because you accuse them of botching the investigation.”

Garibaldi was finally dressed, and sat down in a small salon near the window, which offered a nice view at the courtyard of the apartment complex, complete with rock garden and landscaped greenery. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t like the way you people wrote about my aunt. That she’d run off with my uncle’s money and some lover and had disappeared to Mexico or the Bahamas or wherever. There was never any proof of that. And the police seemed to believe the same lies, so…” He shrugged. “But I was a cocky kid back then, and as far as I’m concerned it’s all water under the bridge now.”

“What do you think happened to your aunt?” asked Odelia, taking out her notebook and a pencil.

Garibaldi placed his hands behind his still wet head.“I think she was kidnapped and murdered. Or maybe sold into slavery by human traffickers. My aunt was a very beautiful woman, only a couple years older than I was at the time, and I can see how she would have attracted the attention of some very wrong people.” He got up swiftly and walked over to a cabinet adorned with knickknacks and picture frames and picked one up, then carried it over to Odelia and handed it to her. “This was taken three months before she disappeared.”

I glanced up at the portrait, and had to admit that Bobby Garibaldi had a point: his aunt had indeed been a very attractive woman.

“Do you think she’s still alive?” asked Odelia.

“I doubt it,” said the man, placing the picture on the coffee table, where also a very large coffee table book lay devoted to ‘Candy through the ages.’ “If she were still alive, she would probably have been found by now.”

“Your uncle… he really suffered, didn’t he?”

“He still does. I don’t think he ever got over it. He hired a bunch of private detectives over the years, but they all came up empty-handed. I think he pretty much gave up.”

“Do you and him… get along?”

Bobby Garibaldi smiled.“What are you implying, Miss Poole?”

“There’s rumors of a succession war.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard those rumors myself. But I can assure you that we are a very united family, and that the succession war, as you call it, has been fought and dealt with years ago. I’m in charge of the company, and as soon as my uncle decides the time has come, he’ll step down as chairman, assign his shares to me, and then I’ll be fully in control.”

Dooley had wandered off, and I followed him. He was looking up at that cabinet full of knickknacks, and gestured to one in particular.“That looks an awful lot like the figurine Harriet broke, doesn’t it, Max?”

I stared at the thing. In fact it didn’t just look like Marge’s goatherd. It was the exact same goatherd, only this one hadn’t been smashed to pieces. “I wonder where Garibaldi got it,” I said.

“And if there’s a message inside,” said Dooley, as if he’d read my mind.

We shared a glance, and then I was jumping up and swiping that goatherd from the cabinet. It hit the ground and smashed into pieces, and even as Garibaldi flew up out of his chair with a shouted,“Hey, what do you think you’re doing!” I’d already noticed that there was indeed some kind of writing inside. And when Garibaldi picked up the pieces, he saw it, too.

“What the…” he muttered, and studied the message. To read it completely, he had to break off another piece, but then he slowly read, “Help me—Vicky Gardner—October 11, 2000.” He looked up at Odelia. “I don’t understand.”

“Where did you get this figurine?” asked Odelia.

He paused for a moment, confusion written all over his features.“My… my mother gave it to me as a present.”

Chapter 40

“Don’t push!” Scarlett said.

“Then get a move on!” Vesta returned.

“It’s too tight!”

“No, it’s not. Lemme try.”

Scarlett wiggled, then Vesta gave her a final shove against her rear end and suddenly she was gone, having dropped down into the basement through the little window.

“See?” said Vesta. “I knew you could do it.”

“It’s filthy in here,” Scarlett’s voice came back. It sounded hollow. “So are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” said Vesta, as she lowered herself through the little window and moments later was jumping down into the basement, joining her friend and fellow watch member. She glanced around. It looked just like all basements: cement floor, cement walls, cement ceiling, a big heater in the corner, and that pervasive, musty smell.

“I hope there are no rats,” said Scarlett, as she studied one of her shoes. “I knew it. I’ve got a scuff mark.” She gave Vesta a dirty look. “You’re buying me a new pair, buddy.”

“Didn’t I tell you to wear sneakers?”

“Sneakers! Never in my life!”

As usual Scarlett was dressed very inappropriately for neighborhood watch duty: frayed Daisy Dukes, a crop top, and of course a pair of shiny red stilettos.

“So now what?” said Scarlett as she inspected the scuff mark.

Now we investigate,” said Vesta. “Which is what Chase should be doing, and my son, only they’re too busy with who knows what to conduct some real good old-fashioned police work.”

The basement consisted of several rooms. One was set up as a wine cellar, one was used as storage space, and one was some kind of atelier. And as Vesta took a closer look at a trestle table that was placed near the wall, she saw to her excitement that it was loaded with the same goatherd figurines Marge had discovered in her kitchen cupboard.

“Look, Scarlett!” she said, lifting one up for closer inspection. “Look at this!”

“Ugh. That is one ugly-ass thing,” said Scarlett.

“It’s the exact same one my daughter found!”

“So?”

“So it’s gotta mean something, right?”

“Sure,” said Scarlett doubtfully. She’d tripped over to a couch in the corner of the basement and was giving it a closer look, preparatory to taking a seat. “Thing is filthy,” she murmured, then let out a little squeak. “Vesta!”

“Yah?”

“There’s shackles here!”

“Shackles? What do you mean, shackles?”

“You know, shackles!”

Vesta went to take a closer look, and found that Scarlett was right: someone had installed a pair of shackles, bolted into the wall.“Like a medieval dungeon,” she said as she gave the things a good rattle.

“Now what did I tell you about staying away from me?” suddenly a voice called out behind them.

When Vesta looked up, she saw they’d been joined by Marcia Gardner, and the woman wasn’t looking very happy about this surprise visit.

“Vesta, she’s got a gun!” Scarlett hissed.

“Your powers of observation are excellent, Miss Canyon,” said Marcia, who was indeed holding a gun, and pointing it at her two intruders. She glanced over to the table with the figurines. “Why the sudden interest in my hobby, Mrs. Muffin?”

“Oh, no particular reason,” said Vesta. “I just happen to like this sort of thing. Otto Spiel, am I right?”

“Very good,” said Marcia. “You know your classics, Mrs. Muffin. I’m impressed. Now please join your friend on the sofa over there while I call the police. Again.”

“There’s a stack of magazines here,” suddenly Scarlett said, and picked one up.

“Don’t,” said Marcia, but too late.

“Pregnancy magazines,” said Scarlett. “Dating back twenty years.”

Both women stared at Marcia, whose face didn’t betray a single emotion.

“Twenty years ago you were, what, forty-something?” said Vesta. “So I’ll bet these aren’t yours. So could it be…”

Scarlett gave the shackles a little kick and they rattled ghoulishly.

Vesta’s frown deepened, as Marcia still watched them both with a stony-faced expression on her face, her phone in her hand, ready to call the police.

Something bubbled in Vesta’s brain, and then suddenly she got it and her face lit up. “You kidnapped your sister-in-law, didn’t you?”

“She was pregnant,” Scarlett gasped. “Vicky was pregnant and you kept her here, shackled to the wall like the man in the iron mask!”

Marcia smiled an icy smile, and put away her phone.“I see you’re a lot smarter than you look.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Vesta, stung to the quick.

“That means that you walked into the wrong house this morning. Now sit down!”

So Vesta and Scarlett sat down on the stuffy couch, and both coughed when a cloud of dust wafted up from the old fabric.

“This isn’t healthy,” said Scarlett. “Bad for the lungs.”

“You know what else is bad for the lungs?” asked Marcia as she took a step closer. “Gunshot wounds to the chest.”

“You’re not going to shoot us, are you?” said Vesta. “My son won’t like it.”

“Your son will never know what happened,” said Marcia, “and neither will anyone else.”

“Is that what happened with Vicky?” asked Vesta, figuring she’d better keep this looney-tunes talking until she figured out a plan to get out of there. “Did you end her?”

“Vicky ended herself,” said Marcia with a shrug. “When she decided to get pregnant and bump my son from the succession order by giving Quintin what he always wanted: an heir.”

“So that’s what this is all about?” asked Scarlett. “Money? How disappointing.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Canyon, but I’m not just talking about money, but about making sure that the Gardner family inheritance is kept in the right hands.”

“Your son’s,” said Vesta.

“Exactly. I’ve been grooming my boy since birth to follow in my brother’s footsteps. So when Quintin found himself a wife against all expectations I wasn’t worried because I knew my brother to be infertile. So imagine my surprise when Vicky announced she was pregnant, and made me promise not to tell my brother—she wanted it to be a surprise.”

“If your brother was infertile, then how did Vicky get pregnant?” asked Scarlett.

“What a dumb question,” said Vesta. “She two-timed the old boy, of course.”

“Actually she didn’t,” said Marcia. “Turns out Quintin had found a fertility clinic where they’d managed to snatch a few of his supposedly sedate swimmers and managed to put the little suckers to work.” She made a face. “Sordid business, if you ask me. But it worked, and Vicky ended up pregnant.”

“So your carefully crafted plans of succession suddenly fell through.”

Marcia nodded.“So you see, there was only one thing to do. One course of action to guarantee the future of Garibo Enterprises.”

“You kidnapped Vicky.”

“I invited her over for tea. She never even knew what happened. When she woke up in here, shackled to the wall, she asked me what was going on, the naive little bimbo.”

“So… you killed her?” asked Scarlett, gulping a little.

“I didn’t have to. I discovered she was willing to do whatever it took to regain her freedom, so I removed the shackles and fixed up the basement to make it more homey.”

Vesta looked around. The place didn’t look very homey to her.

A sudden noise had them all look up, and Vesta picked that moment to take a good grip on the figurine, then aim it straight at the woman’s head. It hit its mark beautifully, causing the other woman to utter a sharp cry of surprise, then drop to the floor.

Quick as a flash, both Vesta and Scarlett were on her, one wresting the gun from her hand, the other taking a seat on top of the woman.

The door to the basement suddenly burst open, and Alec came charging down, followed by Chase, and what looked like the entire Hampton Cove police department.

“Finally,” said Vesta, panting a little from the exertion. “What took you so long?”

Epilogue

“So the cats saved the day,” said Marge as she put a big bowl of potato salad on the table.

“No, the watch saved the day,” said her mother.

“But the cats found the solution.”

“No, thewatch found the solution. Thewatch caught the killer.”

“More like the killer caught you,” said Uncle Alec with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, when are you going to admit that the watch beat you fair and square? We won, Alec, and the police lost!”

“I seem to remember it was us who came barging in to save your ass,” growled the Chief.

“My ass didn’t need saving! I’d already saved my own ass, thank you very much!”

“Are they going to argue like that all day, Max?” asked Dooley.

“All week, I imagine,” I said.

We were in the backyard of Tex and Marge’s house, where Tex was manning the grill, whipping up some prime beef, sausages, steaks and ribs for anyone with an appetite, which apparently was everyone present: Odelia and Chase, of course, Marge, Gran and Scarlett, Tex the grillmeister himself, and Uncle Alec and Charlene.

We cats, meanwhile, patiently waited for those tasty slivers of meat that Odelia usually likes to dole out on these occasions.

The only one who wasn’t present and accounted for was Vicky Gardner, but I had a feeling that very soon now we’d be making her acquaintance. Though these days she wasn’t called Vicky Gardner but Erna Potch, having married a man named Walter Potch.

“I still can’t believe Vicky is alive,” said Brutus. “I thought for sure she’d be dead by now.”

“I thought so, too,” said Harriet.

Marcia Gardner might be an abductor of women, but apparently she was no murderer. One day, while trying to escape, Vicky had tumbled down the stairs and hit her noggin against that cement floor. It had not only created a dilemma for Marcia, who couldn’t just call an ambulance, it had also caused Vicky to develop a serious case of amnesia. It had given Marcia a great idea, though, and she’d decided to get rid of her brother’s wife once and for all, by shipping her to a friend in Belize, where Vicky was still living to this day, being underthe impression that her name was Erna, and that she was born and raised in Illinois and happily married to a local expat, who hadn’t even been aware that she’d been abducted—Marcia had said Vicky had fled an abusive husband, something Walter Potch had happily accepted as the truth. When Vickyhad recovered from her fall, love had blossomed, and Vicky, unbeknownst to herself, had soon become a bigamist. She’d had her baby over there, and the couple had lived a happy life.

“So what about this fitness instructor?” asked Brutus. “How does she fit into the story?”

“Well, Marcia had hoped that the loss of his wife would make her brother hand over the company to Bobby, who was fresh out of college twenty years ago. But Quintin refused to accept that Vicky was dead, and kept looking for her all these years. So when Marcia met Joanne Whittler, and saw the striking resemblance to her sister-in-law, she figured she might use her to drive her brother over the edge.”

“By killing her and making her brother think it was Vicky?” asked Harriet.

“Again, no,” I said. “Marcia hired Joanne as a private fitness instructor, and was wondering how she could use the young woman’s resemblance to Vicky to her advantage somehow. And then one day last week Joanne was showing Marcia a particular routine when she tripped and fell… and broke her neck in a freak accident. So Marcia found herself staring down at the dead body, and suddenly got a great idea.”

“How to drive her brother crazy,” said Harriet, nodding.

“And it worked—more or less. Quintin really did think the dead woman was his wife—after Marcia had judiciously applied a beauty spot on the girl’s face with permanent marker—and it really did put him in a serious funk. And when Marcia pushed him to finally hand over control of the business to her son, Quintin relented. That was the midnight meeting Gran and Scarlett interrupted.”

“And Bobby himself? How was he involved?” asked Brutus.

“He wasn’t. His mother never told him any of this. Not about Vicky’s disappearance, not about the half a million dollars she took from her brother’s account to make it look as if Vicky had run away, and certainly not about Joanne Whittler’s death. She did it all for him, but carefully kept him out of it, just in case the truth was ever revealed.”

“That smells delicious, Tex,” said Charlene. “Your skills as a grill master are improving with leaps and bounds.”

“I’ve been taking this online course,” said Tex, well pleased with this rare compliment. “And I think it’s taught me a couple of really good pointers. Like did you know you have to baste your meat before you grill it? Go figure!”

“Yeah, go figure,” murmured Uncle Alec as he stared at the piece of leathery meat his brother-in-law had just dumped on his plate. It resembled a well-baked shoe sole.

“At least now the meat is finally cooked to perfection,” said Tex proudly.

Marge, as she tried to saw through her steak, said,“I think you may have overdone it just a little bit, sweetie.” The tip of the knife suddenly broke off, and she blinked.

Odelia, as she tried to chew through a piece of sausage, said,“Are you sure this course you took is kosher, Dad?”

“Of course it’s kosher. It’s got five thousand views.” He sat down at the table with his family, picked up his steak knife and his fork and beamed at those around him. “This is my favorite time of the week. Sitting down with you guys—enjoying a nice meal.”

They all watched as he stuck his fork into his piece of steak, then started to saw—and saw—and saw…

Odelia hadn’t brought us a piece of meat yet, as she usually did, and I was starting to see why.

“I think Tex cooked up a stinker again,” said Brutus.

“Yeah, I guess he took the wrong course,” I said.

“How to turn your meat into charcoal,” said Harriet, much to our amusement.

“I don’t understand,” said Tex, perspiration appearing on his brow as he tried to cut his meat. “I followed the instructions in that video to the letter. It had so many likes.”

Marge spirited a smile of faux cheer onto her face and got up.“Anyone want spaghetti? I have some in the freezer. I’ll have it heated up in no time.” And with these words, she disappeared into the house, shaking her head at her husband’s lack of cooking skills.

“It looked so good in the video,” murmured Tex as the knife went TWOOOING! and suddenly soared through the air, and barely missed Uncle Alec’s head. “Sorry about that.”

“Welcome to the family, Charlene,” said Vesta sweetly. “Where the men can’t cook, the cops need the assistance of cats and senior citizens to catch the bad guys, and the women are in charge.”

Charlene laughed.“Thanks, Vesta. Exactly my kind of family.”

“So no food?” asked Brutus.

“No food,” I said.

“I think it’s all for the best,” said Dooley. “Max still isn’t completely recovered, and sometimes fasting is a recommended cure in such cases.”

“I’m fine, Dooley!” I said. “I’m absolutely fine!”

But he placed his paw against my brow again and tsk-tsked lightly.“Mh,” he said.

Suddenly Harriet spotted the now distinctly lopsided goatherd figurine on the garden table. Marge had put it there to show to Charlene. Tex had glued it back together again—more or less. “So how does that figurine figure into the story?” Harriet asked.

“Well, Marcia figured Vicky needed a hobby. Something to occupy her time while she languished in that basement.”

“Was Marcia going to keep her there forever?” asked Brutus.

“Well, no. But she hadn’t figured out what to do with her. She’d dumped those sleeping pills into Vicky’s tea on a whim, after Vicky told her about the pregnancy, and now she was stuck. She couldn’t let her go, and she couldn’t keep her forever either.”

“That wasn’t very clever of her.”

“So she let Vicky work on those figurines. Marcia was a big fan of Otto Spiel, and had always made her own versions, trying to make them look like the original. But when Marcia wasn’t looking, Vicky wrote a distress call inside, hoping that someone would break one of those things and find the message.”

“She also put her ring inside,” said Harriet, staring at the now deformed figurine.

“Yeah, that was an accident,” I said. “It must have slipped off her finger when she was working on one. And since she couldn’t very well tell Marcia, she kept her tongue.”

“And how about the security guard?” asked Brutus. “Why the mysterious letters?”

“Marcia liked to give those figurines away as presents. And since her son had plenty, amassed over the years, he, in turn, had gotten into the habit of handing them out to his factory workers—people he felt deserved a little token of his appreciation. Like Bruno the security guard. And when Bruno accidentally broke it, he discovered the message inside. He wasn’t sure what to do, and when we came snooping around, he figured he might as well give us a nudge in the right direction, thinking there was something fishy about his employers—and the mystery surrounding Vicky’s disappearance.”

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” said Harriet. “Why did Quintin wait a whole month before going to the police when his wife disappeared?”

“Quintin and Vicky made an arrangement when they married. He knew she’d mostly married him for his money, and not his good looks, so they agreed she could keep her freedom and fool around if she wanted to, on one condition: that she’d never tell anyone, or publicly cause him any embarrassment. And so she’d gone missing before. The first time she spent two weeks in Vegas with her friends, and the second time she was gone for three whole weeks—a trip to the Bahamas with the same ‘girl crew’ she liked to hang out with. So when she disappeared again, he wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t worried either. It was only when he bumped into one of her friends and asked when she’d be back, that he discovered that this time she’d actually gone missing for real.”

“What’s going to happen to Marcia?” asked Brutus.

I slapped Dooley’s paw away, as he was trying to measure my temperature yet again. “She’s going to prison for the abduction of her sister-in-law. Her son will take over from Quintin. And Vicky… is probably going to stay in Belize, where she’s built up a pretty good life over the past twenty years. But not before paying a visit to her old husband. And maybe coming back here will jog her memory to some extent.”

“Or maybe not,” said Dooley. “Just like you shouldn’t be too sure you’re fine, Max. You’re not fine, and I think you should lie down now.”

“Dooley, quit fussing!”

“Oh, he’s only watching out for you, Max,” said Harriet. “So if I were you I’d let him.”

She was right. Dooley was only showing me how much he cared. But it was annoying to a degree!

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and we all looked up.

“Visitors?” asked Harriet, surprised.

“It’s Vena,” Dooley announced.

“Vena!” I said, staring at my friend.

He nodded sagely.“I asked Odelia to give her a call. Now I know you think you’re fine, Max, but I’m worried about you, and so is Odelia. So just let Vena take a look at you, and then we can all relax, all right?”

I gritted my teeth a little, but finally relented.“Fine,” I said. “I don’t need to see a doctor, but fine.”

“Good,” said Dooley. “I knew you’d see the light, Max.” He’d placed his paw against my forehead again and was shaking his head. “Still running a temperature,” he murmured.

Vena walked out through the sliding glass door and greeted us all heartily, as is her way. Hampton Cove’s premier veterinarian looks like a powerlifter, which is not a bad look for a vet, as dragging foals from horses probably requires a lot of physical strength.

“So where is the patient?!” she boomed now, and then her eyes swiveled in my direction and she smiled her broad and infectious smile. “There he is!”

“I’m fine,” I repeated for all who would listen. “Absolutely fine.”

“Let’s take his temperature,” said Vesta as she took a seat on the porch swing next to me, and got out her signature bag of goodies. “Now relax those rectal muscles, Max!”

Rectal mu… “No way!” I cried.

And before she could stop me, I jumped down from the swing and was making for the hedge.

“Max! Come back here!” Odelia cried.

“Yes, you’re a sick cat, Max!” Dooley added.

“Never!” I yelled, and was waddling off at a respectable rate of speed. And I think I would have made it, if I hadn’t stumbled upon the new inflatable pool that Chase had purchased, and set up in Odelia’s backyard.

I hit that pool head-on, bopped over the edge, and landed right in the middle. And I would have gone under, if Chase hadn’t fished me out by my neck, and held me up.

“I keep having to save you, don’t I?” said the burly copper.

I gave him my best smile.“I think I love you, Chase,” I said. And then spat out a modest stream of water, hitting him right in the face.

“Cats,” he muttered as he carried me back into the next backyard. “You gotta love ‘em.”

At least I hadn’t destroyed his pool again. And doesn’t it say a lot about a man’s character when he keeps repairing and replacing his inflatable pool, even though his girlfriend’s cats keep destroying it? I think it says that man is a cat friend through and through.

And I love a man who loves a cat.

So I underwent Vena’s probings with a certain measure of equanimity, and when finally she’d given me a clean bill of health, Marge had finished warming up her spaghetti, and soon the only sounds that could be heard were nine humans—Vena had kindly accepted Marge’s invitation to stay for dinner—and four catsmunching away to their heart’s content.

I hadn’t escaped this latest adventure of mine fully unscathed, but fur has a habit of growing back, and so does wounded pride. So I think in all fairness I really was fine.

And so when Dooley’s paw surreptitiously stole out and touched my forehead again, I resisted the urge to slap it away. Harriet was right. My friend was only looking out for me, annoying as his ministrations were, and so I endured his attentions with fortitude.

A certain kind of peace descended upon the backyard, and for a while everything was nice and quiet. Then, suddenly, there was the loud screeching sound of a bird swooping down, and as everyone looked up, fully expecting things to turn into a scene from Hitchcock’s The Birds, Moses’s loud voice could be heard screaming, “Take that, Frank—and that and that and that!” followed by the loud lamenting voice of what I imagined was a large orange cat named Frank, bellowing, “Hey, whaddya think you’re doing, bird!”

Dooley giggled, and so did Harriet, Brutus and myself. Even Odelia was smiling.

It’s not often that bird poo brings about what can only be termed poetic justice, but when it does, I can tell you that it is extremely satisfying for all concerned.

Then again, Hampton Cove is perhaps not a town like most others. I mean, where else can you find four cats quietly applauding a bird’s defecatory act of vengeance against one of their own?

Moments later, Moses swept down upon our backyard, and gave us a flyby salute.

“I got him, you guys,” he said with marked satisfaction. “I got him good.”

“Great job, Moses,” I said.

“Yeah, great job, buddy,” said Dooley.

“He won’t do that again,” Brutus grunted.

“No, he’ll think twice next time,” Harriet added.

And with a cheerful,“Adios,” the large pigeon flew off.

Charlene, who’d watched the back-and-forth with open-mouthed surprise, turned to her boyfriend, and said, “There’s something going on with your family’s cats, Alec. I almost can’t believe I’m saying this, but it seems to me as if… they can talk to birds.”

Uncle Alec swallowed uncomfortably.“I’m sure you’re just imagining things, honey.”

“No, I’m serious. They were talking to that pigeon just now—and you know what’s even stranger? The pigeon was talking back to them! Isn’t that just the weirdest thing?”

“Oh, Charlene, Charlene,” said Harriet with a purr. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Uncle Alec, looking for a way to distract his girlfriend, suddenly pointed to the haphazardly glued-together goatherd.“Hey, what did you do with my present?”

All those around the table looked at him.“Your present?” asked Marge.

“Sure. I got you that thing for your tenth wedding anniversary, remember? Cost me a pretty penny, too.” He frowned. “Don’t tell me you broke it. You told me when I gave that to you that you’d put it somewhere you could look at it every day—to remind you of your favorite big brother.”

Marge looked a little shamefaced.“Well, I did give it a great spot in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, a real top spot,” said Gran with a little grin.

“Good,” said Uncle Alec, leaning back. “The guy who sold it to me said it was a real Otto Spiel. Pretty valuable, too.”

“But, honey,” said Charlene, “that’s one of the figurines Vicky Gardner was forced to make when she was being kept a prisoner by her sister-in-law, remember?”

Uncle Alec stared at her.“Oh, right.” He thunked his head. “How could I forget?”

The meal continued, and Charlene seemed to have forgotten all about the Poole cats’ strange behavior. Soon I noticed how Dooley was eyeing Uncle Alec with concern.

“What is it, Dooley?” I asked.

“Do you think Uncle Alec is losing his mind, Max?” he asked. “He completely forgot about that figurine.”

“I’m sure he was just trying to distract Charlene,” I said. “I think she’s starting to suspect there’s something strange going on with us.”

“Oh?”

“I think she’s starting to suspect that we can talk to our humans.”

“Which is a good thing, right?”

“Not exactly. You never know how she’ll react. She might completely freak out.”

So now Dooley switched his attention from Uncle Alec to Charlene, and eyed her very closely indeed—to such an extent that Charlene started to become a little uncomfortable.

“Alec?” she whispered.

“Mh?”

“That cat is staring at me.”

“What cat?”

“The small gray one.”

“Oh, that’s Dooley. Don’t mind him. He’s a sweet little fella.”

“Dooley?” I said. “Can you please stop staring at Charlene?”

“I think you were right, Max,” he said, intensifying his gimlet stare. “I think she knows. And if she knows, she might file a complaint and put us in her new pound.”

“If you don’t stop staring at her like that she certainly will—you’re right about that.”

“Dooley, can you please stop staring at Charlene,” suddenly said Odelia, who’d become aware of this new development.

“Oh, all right,” said Dooley.

“Thank you,” said Odelia, then looked up when everyone was staring… at her. “What?” she said.

“Odelia!” said Charlene, slowly rising from her chair. “You-you-you talk to your cats!”

“No, I don’t,” said Odelia.

“I just saw you—you talked to that Dooley!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did! You talked to him and he talked back to you and you said ‘Thank you!’”

“Nope.”

Charlene suddenly put her hands to her face.“What’s going on? Am I going crazy?”

“No, you’re not.”

But then Charlene uttered a blood-curdling scream that chilled us all to the bone.

“Oh, boy,” muttered Vesta, and threw down her napkin. “And here we go again.”

27. PURRFECT SON

Chapter 1

Marge had recently bought herself a new couch to replace the one she’d used for the past fifteen years, and of course it hadn’t taken long for us cats to explore its many advantages, such as there were: softness, firmness, and the many other characteristics that potentially turned it into our new favorite spot to lounge on and take those precious catnaps that we enjoy so much.

Marge had, of course, put down a blanket to prevent us from ruining her new couch—as if we could ever ruin a couch simply by our mere presence—and when we’d communicated our disfavor of the new blanket, she’d put down a protective sheet. All in all I think we’d used the couch more than she or Tex ever had, or Gran, and I don’t think that was exactly what she’d hadin mind at the time of purchase.

Then again, if you’re going to be a cat lady, you have to be prepared for the consequences is what I always say.

And so it was that four cats were lounging happily on Marge’s new acquisition, sleeping peacefully and generally spending a lazy morning at home.

Marge was at the library, Tex was at the doctor’s office, and so was Gran, and next door the house was empty, too, as Odelia had gone to work, and so had her boyfriend.

I have to admit I thoroughly enjoy these lazy mornings, when the house is quiet and it’s just us cats, with no humans to disturb us or to trouble us with their dramas.

“Max?” suddenly asked Dooley, rousing me from my slumber.

“Mh?” I said with some reluctance, for I’d just been dreaming of the largest and tastiest chicken nugget I’d ever encountered. That chicken nugget was mine, and now it simply vanished as I opened my eyes. Bummer.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

I noticed how my friend had tensed up, and he looked as much like a pointing dog as a pointing dog could look if he were a smallish gray cat.

Dooley has these moments when he starts seeing things that aren’t really there, like mysterious diseases that suddenly afflict him, or the sky falling on top of our heads when the sky is still firmly attached to whatever the sky is attached to.

But this time I had to admit he wasn’t hallucinating, or getting all worked up for no reason whatsoever. There was indeed a noise where no noise should have been. It sounded like… scratching.

“Do you think it’s burglars?” asked Dooley, eyes wide and fearful.

“I hope it’s not mice,” said Harriet, who’d also woken up.

“Or rats,” grunted Brutus, located right next to his girlfriend.

I pricked up my ears a little more, and surmised that the sound seemed to emanate from upstairs, which was of course quite impossible, as the house was empty.

“It seems to come from upstairs,” now also determined Harriet, whose hearing is on par with that of the rest of us.

“Let’s go and have a look,” said Brutus with a yawn, and made to get up.

“Are you crazy?” said Harriet. “For all we know it could be burglars, like Dooley says, and then where would that leave us?”

“Um, heroes when we catch these burglars?”

“Yeah, dead heroes,” said Harriet. “I say we stay right here and pretend we didn’t hear a thing.”

“How can we pretend not to hear a thing when burglars are cleaning out the house?” said Brutus. It’s at times like these that you can see that Brutus used to belong to Chase before ownership was transferred to the Poole family. He still thinks like a cop’s cat.

“Look, it can’t hurt to take a little look-see,” I said now. “We simply sneak up on the burglars and then we sneak away again and go and warn our humans. Easy-peasy.”

“I don’t know,” said Harriet doubtfully. “I’m too young to die, you guys.”

“Nobody’s going to die,” I said. “We’ll just pop upstairs and then pop down again—no harm done.”

“All of us?” Brutus grunted. “I think we should probably send one cat up there to check—doesn’t seem right for all of us to risk our lives.”

“Brutus is right,” said Harriet. “If we all go we’re going to attract a lot of unwanted attention for sure. So who’s volunteering for the mission? Please raise your paw.”

I glanced around, and when I didn’t see any paws going up, not even Brutus’s, I decided to stick mine up. I mean, I’m not the bravest cat in the world—anything but—but when it comes to protecting my turf I can usually be relied upon to go the extra mile.

“I’ll come, too,” said Brutus.

“And me,” said Dooley.

“Oh, maybe I’ll join you guys,” said Harriet with an eyeroll. “It just wouldn’t feel right for me to stay behind while you all go into battle,” she explained.

And so it was decided: we’d all go in search of this intrepid intruder, and make sure we got his or her features committed to memory so we could offer our humans a nice description.

And as one cat, we all slid down from our new favorite couch, and set paw for the staircase. And we’d just reached the bottom of the stairs when the curious sounds intensified.

“That’s clearly not a mouse,” said Harriet.

“Or a rat,” grunted Brutus.

“Oh, you guys,” said Dooley with a slight whimper. “I’m getting really scared now.”

“Don’t be scared, Dooley,” I said. “We’re cats. Whoever these intruders are, we can easily outrun them—if they even happen to notice us in the first place.”

Humans, as a rule, usually fail to pay attention to pets wandering about the home—and that goes double for intruders, who watch out for dogs, and neglect to see the danger in cats—at their own peril, I might add.

So we all snuck up the stairs, not making a single sound, listening carefully all the while. The sound seemed to come from… the attic. And once we were upstairs, I saw that indeed the attic ladder had been pulled down, and it now became clear to me that someone was rummaging around up there.

“Who wants to go first?” asked Harriet, as she darted nervous glances at the hole in the ceiling that led up to the attic.

“I’ll go,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t mind.” I’d already figured out how this was going to go down, too: I’d simply sneak up that ladder, and then take a quick peek around the attic and see what was going on. I wasn’t entirely without a sense of approaching danger, but frankly my curiosity trumped my sense of self-preservation at that moment, behavior I’ve been told is typical for cats.

“I’ll be right behind you,” said Brutus, who didn’t want to look weak in front of his lady.

“And me,” said Dooley, whose curiosity seemed to have been piqued, too.

“And me,” said Harriet after a moment’s hesitation.

And so it was decided: I carefully navigated that folding wooden ladder first, then Brutus, then Dooley, and finally Harriet brought up the rear.

And as I raised my head and took a peek, I saw that a person wearing a motorcycle helmet was opening and closing drawers in a dresser located on the other side of the attic. The person looked pretty buff, and was dressed in a black leather jacket, black jeans and heavy work boots. He looked like a man to me, and definitely not a member of the Poole family.

“What do you see?” asked Brutus.

“A man!” I whispered. “He’s opening and closing drawers!”

“What’s going on?” asked Harriet from lower on the ladder.

“Max says that it’s a man!” Brutus loud-whispered.

“It’s a man!” said Dooley, sounding panicky.

“A man!” Harriet cried. “What man?”

“Harriet is asking for the man!” said Dooley.

“Harriet wants to know about that man!” Brutus said.

“You don’t have to shout!” I said. “I can hear Harriet perfectly fine. He’s wearing a motorcycle helmet, so I can’t see his face.”

“He’s wearing a motorcycle helmet so Max can’t see his face!” said Brutus.

“Max is wearing a motorcycle helmet so he can’t see the man’s face!” Dooley translated the message.

“Why is Max wearing a motorcycle helmet?” asked Harriet, confused.

The man, meanwhile, must have become aware that he was being watched, for he now looked up, and I saw that he was staring intently in my direction. I ducked down. It’s never a fun prospect to be attacked by a man wearing a motorcycle helmet. And this motorcycle man looked like he might very well eat cats for breakfast—literally!

“Lemme see,” now said Harriet, and shoved Dooley aside, then squeezed past Brutus, and finally joined me on the top step.

“I think he saw me!” I said. “He was looking straight at me just now.”

“Oh, nonsense,” said Harriet. “Humans never pay attention to cats.” And with these words, she popped her head up. Moments later, she popped down again. “Max?” she said.

“Yes?”

“I think you’re right. I think he saw us.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because he’s right here, staring at me!”

And as I slowly glanced up, I saw that Harriet wasn’t lying: the man was now face to face with me, and so I yelped in fear.

“Cats!” the man growled, not sounding all that fond of our species. “I should have known.”

And with these words, he grabbed both me and Harriet by the scruff of our necks, and hoisted us up and into the attic proper, then proceeded to carry us away.

Now I know I should have put up a fight at this point, but I was so startled by this unexpected development that the thought didn’t even cross my mind, and clearly it didn’t cross Harriet’s mind either!

And so before we knew it, we suddenly found ourselves thrown into a large chest, and when the lid slammed down on top of us, I suddenly realized our predicament.

“Max!” Harriet cried as darkness descended upon us. “He caught us!”

And when suddenly the chest was opened once more and two more cats were deposited inside, it was clear that our strategy had backfired to a substantial degree.

We were, for all intents and purposes, in quite the pickle!

Chapter 2

“It’s dark in here, Max.”

“I know, Dooley.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh, could you please stop talking, the both of you,” said Harriet. “I’m trying to figure out a way to get us out of here and all this babble is making it hard for me to think.”

“Why don’t we simply put our backs into it?” Brutus suggested. “I mean, the lid on this thing can’t be that heavy, can it?”

“Good idea, snuggle bear,” said Harriet. “Max, Dooley, up,” she instructed, our unexpected captivity making her a little more snappish than usual.

So Dooley and I dutifully did as we were told and arched our backs so we could raise the lid on our makeshift prison. Unfortunately the thing didn’t budge. Not even an inch.

“I think he locked it,” I said.

“How do you know it was a he, Max?” asked Dooley. “Couldn’t it have been a she?”

“It could have been a she,” I allowed. After all, it was hard to make out who our assailant was underneath that motorcycle helmet.

“So now what, Brutus?” asked Harriet, who was still focused on the task at hand, and much to her credit, too, I might add.

“Now we wait,” Brutus suggested.

“Wait for what? Santa Claus?”

“Now we wait for someone to come and save us,” he said. “Sooner or later Marge or Gran or Odelia will realize we’ve gone missing, and that’s when they’ll come looking.”

“They’ll never find us in here,” said Harriet, offering the pessimistic view. “Unless…”

I could almost hear her brain working—it was even starting to radiate heat as it did.

“It’s getting very hot in here,” announced Dooley, who’d noticed the same thing.

“That’s because this is a very small space and we’re four cats in here,” I said, not wanting to cast aspersions on Harriet’s brain.

“No, but it’s getting very, very hot in here,” my friend said.

And I have to admit that he was right. It was getting extremely hot in that chest.

And then I saw it: a glow was lighting up our new unfavorite spot, to such an extent it couldn’t possibly be caused by Harriet’s brain. She’s a smart cat, but not that smart.

“We’re on fire!” suddenly Harriet cried out. “The attic must be on fire!”

“Oh, no!” cried Dooley. “I don’t like fire. Fires are very dangerous. The Discovery Channel warns against fires all the time! Fires, like, kill things.”

I swallowed a little. This wasn’t good. I mean, the likes of Houdini would probably have uttered a careless little laugh at a predicament such as the one we now found ourselves in: he’d even have added a few more obstacles to make it really interesting. Like shackles. Or a harness. But for me this was already more than bad enough, to be honest!

“Oh, Max, we’re going to die,” Dooley announced. He gulped a little, then said, “I think you guys are the best friends a cat could ever have had the pleasure to meet, and I want you to know that it’s been an honor. And a pleasure. In fact an honor and a pleasure.”

“Oh, Dooley, shut up for a second, will you?” said Harriet. “Maybe this fire is the best thing that could have happened to us. This chest is made of wood, right? And what is one of the basic characteristics of wood?”

“That it feels nice and warm under the paws, especially in the wintertime?” Brutus suggested.

“That it burns!”

“Oh, right. Of course.” He paused, then: “So, um, how does that help us?”

“This fire is going to burn right through this wood in the next couple of minutes, and when that happens, we should be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to die!” said Dooley. “I have a confession to make. Last month, I accidentally peed in your litter box, Brutus. I was in a hurry and I accidentally went into your box by mistake. And by the time I realized, I’d already tinkled in your litter box. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Look, let’s all focus for a moment,” I said. “Harriet made a very valid point: wood burns, and so this fire is going to eat through this chest soon, and when it does we have to be ready to make a run for it.”

“But if the chest is on fire, won’t the entire attic be on fire?” Brutus said. “And isn’t that going to make it a little hard to make a run for it? My paws are not made of Teflon, you know.”

“And then two weeks ago I accidentally did number two inyour litter box, Harriet,” Dooley continued his timely confession. “I couldn’t hold it up long enough to reach my own so I went into yours instead! I’m so sorry!”

“We don’t know what the situation is outside of this chest,” said Harriet. “But we have to stay positive and hope for the best.”

“When people are faced with a big fire like this, they sometimes douse themselves in water,” said Brutus. “Pity we don’t have a bucket of water at our disposal now.”

“No, but we do have something else,” said Harriet.

“What’s that?” I asked, intrigued what could possibly replace a convenient bucket of water.

And then she spat me in the face!

“Hey, what did you do that for?” I asked, horrified.

But instead of responding, she simply did it again!

“Cut it out, Harriet!” I cried. Getting burned to a crisp is bad enough without being spat on, I mean to say.

“But don’t you see, Max!” she cried. “We don’t have water but we have our saliva!”

“Brilliant!” said Brutus. “We simply lick ourselves until we’re well and truly soaked and by the time that fire eats through this chest, we’ll be ready to face the inferno!”

I didn’t want to rain on their parade—or even spit—but I still felt I needed to say something. “By the time that fire burns down this chest, it’s going to get so hot in here we’re going to expire from the sheer heat, not to mention smoke inhalation, and besides, a little bit of spittle isn’t going to protect us from those flames. Only a heat-resistant suit like firemen like to wear is going to accomplish that.”

“Oh, why always with all the negatives, Max!” said Harriet. “I’m trying to stay positive here, you know.”

“All right, all right,” I said, trying to think of something positive to add to the conversation.

“And then last week I accidentally peed in your water bowl, Max,” said Dooley now. “It was an accident, I swear!”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with a sigh.

That orange glow that had been getting stronger, and that heat that had been intensifying, told us that the moment had finally come. Our do or die moment, if you will. We’d all been busy licking ourselves, just in case it made a difference, and I have to say my nice blorange coat of fur was pretty slick by now.

The flames were crackling, and Harriet said,“This is it. The moment of truth!”

“The truth is it just happened,” Dooley said. “I guess I was still sleepy from my nap. I saw the bowl, and the next moment I was taking a tinkle, even before I realized it wasn’t my litter box. And I meant to tell you, Max, I really did, but then I forgot. I’m so, so sorry!”

“This is it, folks!” said Harriet. “Get ready to run!”

The wood creaked and groaned, and I tensed all my muscles, ready to make a desperate run for it, when suddenly there was a loud swooshing sound, then voices could be heard, and the next moment the chest was opened and the face of Chase Kingsley appeared, followed by the face of Odelia, our very own human!

“Am I dreaming?” asked Dooley. “Or did I die and go to heaven?”

Chapter 3

“I don’t get it,” said Chase, as he looked around the attic at the devastation. “If they wanted to burn the house down wouldn’t they have set fire to other parts of the house?”

Odelia, who’d been hugging her cats, nodded. “I think this was a targeted attack.”

“An attack on what?”

She was reluctant to say it out loud in front of her fur babies, who’d already been through a great ordeal, but it was important that they, too, realized what was going on here. “I think the culprit wanted to set fire to… our cats,” she said finally.

Max looked up at this. He’d been inspecting their makeshift prison for the past five minutes, and nodded sagely at these words. “He specifically set fire to this wooden chest,” he said. “Or trunk, or whatever you call this thing.”

“It used to belong to my dad,” said Odelia. “And to his dad before him. Dad used it when he was in college. It contained all of his stuff and he kept it in his dorm all those years before shipping it back here.”

The only part of the attic that had burned was that particular chest belonging to her dad, and it stood to reason that the attacker must have used some kind of accelerant or maybe even simple lighter fluid to make sure the chest would burn well.

“But why would anyone target the cats?” asked Chase.

“He was snooping around over there,” said Max, pointing to an old dresser in the corner of the attic. “He was opening and closing the drawers, and seemed to be looking for something. And then when he caught us spying on him, he didn’t seem surprised. He said, ‘Cats! I should have known.’ As if he was expecting us.”

“And then he caught us and locked us up and set us on fire,” said Brutus, summing up the state of affairs to a T.

Odelia set Dooley down on the floor and walked over to the dresser Max had indicated. She opened the top drawer, and saw that it contained photo albums belonging to her mom and dad. She picked one up and leafed through it. The photos were all familiar: Mom and Dad in their younger years, trekking through Europe, and seeing the sights. A second album contained their wedding photos, and showed them happy and excited to finally tie the knot. Odelia smiled, and wondered why anyone would be interested in these particular photos. And why anyone would want to set her cats on fire.

“Your uncle is here,” said Chase as he glanced down the attic ladder.

The shuffling of feet could be heard, and the next moment the head of her uncle Alec cleared the attic opening. He was panting slightly from the exertion.“So what’s the verdict?” he asked as he took a breather.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a burglar who dabbles in animal cruelty,” said Chase, and told the chief in a few words what had transpired.

“If we hadn’t shown up when we did, my cats would have died,” said Odelia.

She tried to hide her distress, but it mustn’t have worked well, for Uncle Alec walked over and gave her a comforting pat on the back. “We’ll get the bastard, honey. Just you wait and see. And then we’ll throw the book at him.”

“How did you get here?” asked Max now. “I thought you were both at work?”

“We were,” said Odelia. “But Mom called and said she thought she’d left the stove on and asked me to come and check.”

“Happens to me all the time,” said Uncle Alec. “Sometimes I have to go back twice, just to be sure. Must be old age.”

“Or just having a lot of things on your mind,” said Odelia.

“I was passing Odelia’s office when I saw her walking out,” said Chase. “And since criminals have been taking it easy lately, I just figured I’d join her and have an early lunch at the house. Beats the police station canteen.”

“So it’s actually Marge we have to thank for saving our lives,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” said Odelia with a smile. “If she hadn’t called…” She didn’t want to finish the sentence, or the thought, as it was too horrible to contemplate.

“Harriet had a solution,” said Max. “So I like to think we would have made it out safe and sound, even if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

It didn’t look to Odelia as if Harriet’s solution would have done much to alleviate the danger that flaming chest had posed, but this time she decided to keep her tongue.

“The important thing is that you made it out alive,” she said. “And maybe,” she added with a glance at her boyfriend, “we should keep an eye on you guys from now on. At least until this maniac is caught.”

Chase nodded, though she could tell that arranging a bodyguard for her cats wasn’t exactly the solution he’d had in mind for this new situation.

“I’ll see if I can’t install some kind of an alarm system,” said the cop now. “Cameras and stuff, so that if this guy comes back, God forbid, we can catch him in the act.”

“I really thought I was going to die,” said Dooley now. “And so I said some things that maybe I shouldn’t have said.”

“What kind of things?” asked Odelia as she crouched down next to the Ragamuffin.

“Like… that I accidentally did wee-wee in Brutus’s litter box, and doo-doo in Harriet’s litter box, and that I even did wee-wee in Max’s water bowl.”

She had to suppress a grin, but patted the cat on the head instead.“I don’t think your friends will hold it against you, Dooley,” she said. “If I had to count the number of times I used Mom and Dad’s bathroom instead of my own, I would need more than ten fingers.”

“Yes, but for humans it’s different,” he said. “You only have one bathroom in the house and you all use it. We like to use our own bathroom, and not share it with others.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m sure Harriet and Brutus don’t mind if you use their litter box from time to time.”

“And Max?” He darted a surreptitious glance at his friend. “Won’t he be mad at me?”

“Why don’t we ask him? Max!” she called out. “Come over here a minute, will you?”

Dooley gave his friend a worried look.

“What is it?” asked Max.

“Dooley is worried that you’re angry with him now that he confessed his little… accident.”

Max smiled.“I’d completely forgotten about that already.”

“So you aren’t mad at me, Max?” asked Dooley.

Max shrugged.“It can happen to the best of us, Dooley. You’re sleepy, stumbling around in the dark, and so you do your business… elsewhere. It’s totally fine.”

“But… it’s not hygienic, Max,” Dooley insisted, apparently a glutton for punishment.

Max winced a little at the thought that he’d actually drunk water with a little… extra. “It’s okay. I’m still here, aren’t I? So clearly drinking that water didn’t have any adverse effect on me.”

Dooley nodded, but didn’t look totally convinced. “I won’t do it again, Max, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’m just thinking that I’d like to know who locked us up in that chest.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” said Dooley softly. Oddly enough the peeing incident seemed to be troubling him more than the being-set-on-fire incident. Then again, every cat has his or her hang-ups, and clearly Dooley’s hang-up was losing the respect and affection of his peers, and Odelia could absolutely relate with that.

Suddenly there was a loud rumbling on the attic ladder, an anguished cry, and then Mom appeared, followed by Dad and Gran, in that order, and even… Charlene Butterwick, Mayor of Hampton Cove and Uncle Alec’s girlfriend.

And so the Poole family was now complete, and as Charlene looked from the burned-out chest to the four cats seated in front of it, she said,“Oh, the poor darlings!”

“It’s fine,” said Max with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, we survived,” said Harriet with a nod.

“We were saved by Odelia and Chase,” intimated Brutus.

“And I’ll never pee in Max’s bowl again,” promised Dooley.

Charlene stared at the cats and uttered a startled laugh.“I keep telling myself that this is impossible—that no cats can talk to their humans—but then I see these guys and…” She shook her head. “At least they’re safe. That’s the main thing.”

Chapter 4

It was really weird for Charlene to watch Odelia, her mom and her grandma talk to their cats. She watched on, wide-eyed and with not a small sense of wonder, and when her boyfriend sidled up to her and asked, a little worriedly,“Everything all right?” she nodded wordlessly, then went on studying the interactions between man and beast, or, as in this case, woman and beast, feeling as if she’d suddenly landed in a Disney movie.

“Has it always been like this?” she asked. “I mean, has your sister always been able to talk to her cats, or…”

“Or did my mother drop her on her head as a baby and suddenly she became Chatty Cat Cathy? No, she’s always been like this,” said Alec with a smile. “Unfortunately only the women in our family have the gift.”

“Oh. So you don’t…”

“No, I don’t talk to cats, or dogs, or any other pets.”

She flashed him a quick smile.“I’m sorry, Alec. This is all pretty new for me, so….”

He scratched his scalp.“Yeah, I can imagine. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you at first. I was afraid you’d freak out and—”

“Run for the hills?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I? Though I have to admit it’s going to take some getting used to.” She studied the fat orange cat named Max for a moment. He was busy chatting with his human, and Charlene shook her head. “How does it work, exactly? I mean, to me it just sounds like he’smeowing, but to Odelia it all makes sense somehow?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how it works,” said Alec with a shrug. “I just know it does.”

“No, but I mean, something inside her brain must be able to compute the sounds her cats make, right? Have you ever had it looked at? By a doctor or a brain specialist or something?” Or a linguist, she wanted to add, then realized that no specialist would be able to figure this out even if they’d believe it in the first place. She hardly believed it herself, still harboring the faint suspicion the entire Poole family was simply performing some kind of elaborate joke at her expense. But since that was even more ridiculous than the simple truth, she placed a hand on Alec’s arm and said, “It’s just a little weird, is all.”

“I know it is, honey,” said her big teddy bear of a police chief. “But trust me, you’ll get used to it.”

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

She finally dragged her eyes away from the strange spectacle, and said,“So do you have any idea who did this?”

“Not yet,” said Alec, a resolute look stealing over his face, the policeman replacing the boyfriend for a moment. “I’ve got officers canvassing the neighborhood as we speak, so it won’t be long before we start getting some useful information. Whoever this guy is, he must have been seen bysomeone.”

“I hope so. This is going to make a lot of people very nervous. A breakin in broad daylight, and attempted arson on top of that. Maybe we should give a joint statement—before all kinds of wild stories start going around and people really start to panic.”

“Good idea,” he said. “Though I’d prefer to wait until we know some more.”

“Deal,” she said, patting him on the beefy arm. “I have to get back. I’ve got a land development application on my desk right now that needs looking at.”

“A land development application? For…”

She grimaced.“A new shopping mall.”

Alec’s face fell. “A shopping mall—but Charlene!”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I hear you, but we still have to do this by the book, and look at it from every angle. A new mall doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, you know.” When he raised an eyebrow, she added, “Just trust me, all right?”

“All right,” he said, but it was obvious he wasn’t exactly bowled over by the idea of adding a shopping mall to the town landscape.

She waved to the rest of Alec’s family, and then took her leave. She hadn’t told her boyfriend, but the people pitching the plan for the new mall were actually coming in for a personal chat, and she couldn’t afford to be late for the meeting.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Alec watched his girlfriend carefully navigate the attic ladder, disappearing from view, and he must have been frowning, for when his sister wandered over, the first question she asked was,“And? Do you still have a girlfriend or did she dump you?”

He smiled.“She’s sticking around… for now. Though the whole cat-talking thing really freaked her out.”

“I’m sorry she had to find out like this,” said Marge.

“It’s fine. She had to find out sooner or later, and maybe better sooner than later.”

“I hope you told her to keep this between ourselves?”

“Of course. Charlene isn’t going to talk—you don’t have to worry about that.”

Marge glanced up at her big brother.“Something else bothering you? I mean, apart from the burglary, the attempted catslaughter and the fact that your girlfriend just discovered that your sister, niece and mother can talk to cats?”

“There’s talk of a new shopping mall,” he said. “She’s looking at the application.”

“But we already have a mall.”

The next town over, Hampton Keys, had a great mall, which was only a twenty-minute drive away. It had been servicing the neighboring towns of Hampton Cove and Happy Bays for years, with no one asking for a second shopping center to be built.

“Yeah, I know.”

“A mall is going to destroy Main Street.”

“I know.”

“It’s going to attract a massive amount of traffic, all rolling through town.”

“I know, I know.”

“And tourists.”

“Marge—”

“Tourists that are going to run roughshod over our peaceful little town.”

“Look, I know all that, all right? But it’s not my decision to make. Charlene is mayor, and it’s her responsibility to weigh the pros and cons and make a measured decision.”

“You can always give her a nudge in this or that direction, though, right?” asked Marge, giving her brother a nudge with her elbow.

“Oh, I’ll nudge her plenty. Question is, is she going to listen?”

And that’s what worried him: if she chose to go full steam ahead with this new mall development, and he was dead set against it, it might create a rift between them that could be hard to bridge. Plus, he didn’t want to see their lovely little town fall into the hands of the kinds of developers who onlyhad quick—and big—profits on their minds.

“I’m sure it’ll all work out for the best,” said Marge now, always the picture of optimism. “So what are we going to do about the cats? They need protecting, Alec. In case this person comes back.”

“I’m not sure,” he said, rubbing his face thoughtfully. “It’s not as if I can ask a couple of uniforms to sit outside and guard the house twenty-four-seven.”

“Why not?”

“Honey, if I tell my people to guard four cats they’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Mh,” said Marge. “Yeah, I can see how that would cause you all kinds of trouble.” Then her face lit up. “I’ve got it. Why don’t you ask Chase?”

“Chase?” he said with a twinge of alarm.

“Sure! He knows how much Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus mean to this family, right? And he’s a cop. And he lives right next door. It’s the perfect solution!”

“I don’t know if…”

“Chase!” Marge bellowed. “Come here a second, will you?”

Chase dutifully came striding over.“What’s up?” he asked.

“Tell him, Alec,” said Marge, hooking her arm through her brother’s.

“Tell me what?” asked Chase.

Alec cleared his throat.“The thing is, Chase, that this madman—well, it’s not entirely inconceivable that he could come back.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And we don’t want that, do we?”

“Oh, no, of course not.”

“So we need someone to be stationed at the house… to watch… the cats.”

“Great idea.”

“So we were thinking about you, Chase,” said Marge, patting the cop on the broad chest. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“Me?” asked Chase, darting an anxious look at his superior officer.

But Alec held up his hands.“Look, someone’s gotta do it, buddy. And it might as well be you.”

“But, Chief!”

“You don’t want your girlfriend’s cats to be harmed, do you?”

“No, but…”

“Well, then.”

“But, Chief—what are the colleagues going to say?”

Chase’s colleagues would have a field day laughing their asses off, thought Alec, but instead he said, “We’ll simply tell them you’re staking out the house in case this arsonist comes back. No mention of the cats will be made.”

“But they’ll know, Chief. I don’t know how, but they’ll know that you’ve turned me into a glorified catsitter!”

He was definitely right about that.“Nah, I’m sure they won’t.”

“Yeah, they will!” said Chase. “I’ll be the joke of the force!”

“No, you won’t.”

“I think it’s mighty nice of you to volunteer for this task, Chase,” said Marge. “And I’m sure Odelia will be overjoyed, too, knowing you’re here to watch out for our babies.”

With these words, Marge walked off to check out that dresser the burglar-slash-arsonist-slash-cat killer had been so interested in.

“Chief?” said Chase, his voice a little tremulous. “Please?”

“It’s out of my hands, buddy,” said Alec. “And for it’s worth, I think you’ll do great.”

And then he walked off, too, leaving his deputy to stare after him looking crushed.

A man had to be made of stone not to feel sorry for the poor schmuck, but then sometimes you had to take one for the team, even though this particular team would probably start creating memes and post them on Facebook before the day was through.

Chapter 5

I found Dooley in the kitchen, staring at my water bowl for some reason.

“Everything okay, Dooley?” I asked.

“Have you ever peed in someone else’s water bowl, Max?” my friend asked, showing me that not everything was A-okay in the world of Dooley.

“Um, no, I don’t think I have,” I admitted.

“I’ll bet plenty of cats have,” he said. “And even though I confessed, I’m not sure many others would. And if that’s true, how do we know that the water we drink is clean, Max?”

“I guess we never know for sure,” I said, even though I could already see that my answer was potentially going to cause me no end of trouble.

“There’s only one solution. I think we should ask Odelia to get rid of our bowls.”

“I’m sure there are other solutions.”

“Nope. Only one solution. No more water bowls.”

“But Dooley, we have to drink. It’s very important we stay hydrated, especially with all the dry food we eat.”

“No, I know that, Max.” He trounced up to one of Odelia’s high kitchen stools, and effortlessly jumped up. “Look at this,” he said, and so I followed his example, though with slightly more effort required.

“What is it?” I asked once I’d arrived at my destination.

On the kitchen table was the tablet computer that Odelia got for us, in case we wanted to look up something on the internet. Dooley expertly flicked the thing to life, and I saw that he’d already looked up a page, for the browser depicted an intricate-looking device.

“This is a water dispenser,” he said proudly. “It dispenses water.”

“Oh-kay.”

“There’s a video.” He started a video on the sales site, and it showed me exactly what a water dispenser does. Dooley was right: it dispensed water, which was to be expected.

“Pretty cool,” I said, earning myself a proud smile from my friend.

“They have one for kibble, too. It dispenses kibble, not water.”

“Okay,” I said, seeing his point. “So let’s ask Odelia to get us one of these, shall we? That way we can always be sure that the water we drink is fresh and not tampered with.”

“Oh, Max, I’m so glad you agree. I thought you were going to give me all kinds of objections.”

“Why would I give you all kinds of objections? This is the perfect solution for a household with four cats: instead of four bowls that Odelia constantly has to fill, she can now fill this baby up and there will always be plenty of water for all of us.”

Dooley stared at me.“You mean you want her to buy one… for the four of us?”

“Of course.”

“No, Max,” he said, shaking his head. “She has to buy four of these water dispensers. I can’t possibly drink from your water dispenser, and you can’t drink from mine.”

I wanted to heave a deep sigh, but refrained from doing so. When Dooley has something on his mind, it’s very hard to get him to let go of the idea.

“Fine. Let’s run it by Odelia, and see what she says,” I said, and made to jump down again.

“Wait, Max. There’s something else I wanted to show you.” And with a flick of the paw, he swiped to another page, this one depicting that famous TV show Paw Patrol. “Look, Max,” he said. “It’s a dog… that is also a cop!”

“It’s a TV show for kids, Dooley,” I pointed out. “In real life dogs can’t be cops.”

“No, but they can. Some dogs are trained as police dogs, you see. They go through this whole training program.” And once again he was swiping away, and this time he landed on a website that showcased how some dogs are indeed trained as police dogs, and how they’re very proficient at helping out their human colleagues. “See? They can sniff out drugs, and they can chase suspects… They’re indi… spensable,” he said, reading from one of the promo banners on the page.

I eyed the page for a moment, then shrugged.“So?”

“So maybe we should ask Odelia to hire one of these Paw Patrol dogs. So the dog can protect us in case the man who locked us in that chest comes back.”

I frowned.“You want Odelia to hire a dog to protect her cats?”

“Exactly! These dogs catch bad men all the time, so why not our bad man?”

“Cause we’re cats, Dooley. Cats take care of themselves. They don’t need dogs.”

“But—”

I held up my paw.“Cats don’t need dogs to save them, Dooley. That’s rule number one of being a cat.”

“But we almost died up there, Max. So maybe we’re not as good at taking care of ourselves as we think?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. He had a point, of course, but hiring a dog to watch over us? That was simply too ludicrous to consider.

“Or we could always join this training program,” he said, clicking on a video. “So we’re ready when this person attacks us again.”

We both watched as a few snippets from the dog training program were shown. It frankly made my stomach turn. Dogs were forced to jump through hoops—literally—and scale large obstacles, and even cross small streams. It all looked extremely exhausting.

“I don’t think I want to do that, Dooley,” I said when the video had run its course and so had the dogs. “I mean, I really, really don’t want to do that.”

“I think it would be good for you, Max.”

“No, it won’t.”

“It will make you strong.”

“I am strong already.”

“It will make you fit.”

“I’m perfectly fit.”

“Then I suggest we hire a guard dog.”

Faced with these two options, I have to admit neither one looked very appealing to me. I didn’t want to be protected by a dog, and I didn’t want to be trained as a member of Paw Patrol either. But on the other hand Dooley was right: we had to do something, for it had been proved beyond a reasonable doubt that we weren’t ready in case of an attack.

“Fine,” I said finally. “So maybe we should go ahead with your scheme.”

He perked right up.“Do you really mean that, Max?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, though not wholeheartedly, as you can imagine.

“Great!” he said. “I’ll go and tell Odelia right away!”

And happy as a Paw Patrol puppy, he jumped down from the stool and pranced off.

Sometimes, I thought, Dooley’s excitement was really tiring. Then again, maybe that just proved he was right: I was unfit, untrained, and as such the perfect target.

So… time to get some police cat training in?

Ugh.

Chapter 6

“Bad business, Scarlett,” said Vesta. “Bad business, this.”

“You can say that again,” Vesta’s friend Scarlett agreed.

The two women were seated in the outdoor dining area of the Hampton Cove Star, their small town’s boutique hotel, and sipping from their respective favorite beverages: a hot chocolate with extra cream in Vesta’s case, and a flat white for Scarlett. Both women might be the same age, but they couldn’t have looked more different, and if an innocent bystander were asked to guess their ages, they’d have pegged Scarlett to be in her late fifties to early sixties, and Vesta in her late seventies to early eighties. Vesta, dressed in her usual tracksuit and sensible white shoes, had that whole Golden Girls look down pat, while Scarlett wouldn’t have looked out of place in the best little whorehouse in Texas, with her thick russet curls, her inflated chest, and her face not revealing a single line.

“You simply don’t expect this kind of violence in a small town like ours,” Vesta continued. “Breaking and entering alone is a rare thing, and this attempted murder of four innocent pets? That’s just wicked.”

“Wicked,” Scarlett agreed wholeheartedly. “Probably some uptown lowlife deciding to hit the suburbs for a change. But he’ll soon discover we’re not as soft on crime down here as he might have supposed.”

“I don’t know, Scarlett,” said Vesta musingly. “I mean, you would expect my son to assemble his troops and hunt this animal down, but instead all he can think about is his girlfriend.”

“Charlene Butterwick? Is that still a thing?”

“Oh, yes. Very much so, in fact.”

“I would have thought that after finding out about your cat-talking trick she’d have run for the hills.”

“No, she’s a keeper, that one. Sticking it out. Which may or may not be a good thing.”

“She’s got your son distracted.”

“Exactly. And a distracted chief of police is the last thing we need right now.”

Scarlett shared a keen look with her friend.“I smell an opportunity for the watch, Vesta.”

“I’m way ahead of you, darling. I’ve already told Father Reilly and Wilbur, and we’re going on our first-ever patrol tonight.”

“This night?”

“This night.”

“Woo-hoo!”

“We’re going to patrol this neighborhood to within an inch of its life. And I’d like to see this heartless animal try and strike again. He’s going to have us to contend with.”

“We’re taking that sucker down!” Both women smiled before themselves, thinking pleasant thoughts about the neighborhood watch’s watchful prowess, then Scarlett said, “We’re not going to patrol the neighborhood in that little red Peugeot of yours, are we?”

“I thought maybe we could ask Alec to borrow one of his squad cars. Seeing as he’s not using them anyway.”

“I like your thinking,” said Scarlett, her eyes lighting up. “Ooh—and maybe we should get us some snazzy neighborhood watch outfits, too!”

“Again, way ahead of you.” And Vesta reached into the shopping bag dangling from her chair and took out what at first glance looked like a beige jumpsuit.

“What is that?” asked Scarlett, giving the thing a look of abject disgust.

“The new neighborhood watch uniform,” said Vesta proudly, and unfolded the thing to show it to Scarlett in all its splendor—or horror.

Itwas a jumpsuit, or at least that’s what it looked like to Scarlett. “I’m not wearing that,” she said decidedly after giving the monstrosity a glance. “Nuh-uh. No way.”

“But why? It’s got a logo and everything. See?” Vesta pointed to the little logo sewn onto the jumpsuit’s chest. It depicted a stern-looking figure pointing at the innocent observer and saying, ‘I’ve got my eye on you!’ The figure looked a little too much like Vesta to be a coincidence, Scarlett thought. The whole thing was tacky to a degree.

“You can wear that thing, but I’m not wearing it,” she repeated.

Vesta stared at her creation.“What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it? We’re going to look like a couple of morons, that’s what. Have you even tried it on?”

“Sure. I tried it on this morning after the UPS man dropped it off. I ordered them online—I even designed the logo myself.”

“Of course you did.”

Vesta’s look of confusion was replaced with one of censure. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s you!”

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s clearly you, Vesta.”

“Well, I had to use a model, and so I figured I might as well use myself. Here. Is that better?” And she ripped off the logo and handed the outfit to Scarlett, who immediately dumped it on the next chair, her face showing her extreme contempt for the thing. “I’ve got one for Wilbur, one foryou, and one for Father Reilly, too,” said Vesta, as she emptied the bag and placed them all on the table, next to the plate of pretty little pastries.

“No way in hell is Wilbur going to wear that thing—or Francis, for that matter.”

“Of course they will. And look, I even got these for the cats, in case they want to ride along with us.” And she held up four miniature beige outfits, perfect for cats.

Scarlett had to admit they were cute.“Look, I appreciate all the work you put into this, but I’m not wearing that—ever.”

“But—”

“You can look like a ghostbuster if you want, Vesta. I prefer to look like Sigourney Weaver instead. How about that? Three ghostbusters and one hot crime-fighting mama.”

“Ghostbuster?” asked Vesta, frowning. “What’s a ghostbuster?”

“Wear that outfit and you’ll know. Now let’s talk guns. We can’t go out there unarmed—especially if big-city crime has suddenly decided to sweep into town.”

“I’ve got that covered,” said Vesta, her smile returning, and she placed two futuristic-looking gadgets on the table, on top of the ghostbusters jumpsuits.

“What’s that? asked Scarlett. “Water pistols?”

“Stun guns,” said Vesta. “Perfectly legal, too, and they pack a lot of juice.”

“Stun guns,” said Scarlett doubtfully.

“Zap the bad guys with these things and they won’t know what hit them.”

“They’ll know they haven’t been hit with a real gun, that’s for sure,” said Scarlett, picking one up and turning it this way and that. Then she shrugged. “I guess it’s better than nothing. What else have you got?”

“Pepper spray,” said Vesta, “and this.” And she placed something on the table that looked like a cane.

“What’s this?” asked Scarlett. “Is your hip acting up again?”

“It’s a club,” said Vesta proudly.

“It’s a cane.”

“It’s a club! The website said so.”

“Oh, Vesta,” murmured Scarlett. If she sounded disappointed, it was because she was. “I don’t know about this,” she said finally after swinging the club and almost hitting a passing waiter. “If we’re going up against big-city crime, I just think we need big-city firepower.”

“No can do, I’m afraid,” said Vesta. “For one thing, I don’t have a license, and neither do you, and for another, my son would never allow us to carry weapons in his town.”

“Who cares what Alec thinks? We can’t fight crime with our hands tied behind our backs, Vesta.”

“Well, I do have Jack’s shotgun,” said Vesta, musingly. “I keep it in the garden shed.”

“Now,that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Don’t tell Alec, though, or he’ll confiscate it.”

“I don’t get it. Since when are you so afraid of what your son thinks?”

Vesta sighed.“It’s not just Alec. It’s all of them.” She ticked them off on her fingers: “Chase is a cop, Alec is a cop, Odelia is a private dick, and Charlene is the Mayor. And sometimes I’ve got the feeling they’re all conspiring against me. It’s tough being a weak old lady having to fight offan entire army of law enforcement.”

Scarlett smirked.“Honey, you’ve faced off against bigger enemies. Remember how we used to tussle all the time?”

“Oh, do I?” said Vesta with a wistful gleam in her eye. “Those were the good old days.”

“The Vesta I knew didn’t take prisoners, and she never, ever backed down from a fight.”

Vesta nodded, her shoulders sagging.“The Vesta you’re talking about is long gone. I don’t know what’s going on, but when I woke up this morning I felt old. Old and tired.”

“You probably forgot to take your vitamins.”

“It’s not that. It’s having no allies in my own home. Always having to fight alone.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve got me now, hun. And the rest of the watch. We’re your allies.”

Vesta perked up at that.“You mean that?”

“Sure I mean that. I’m in your corner now, Vesta. And I can assure you I’ve got plenty of fight left in me. Enough fight for the both of us.”

Vesta smiled, and that holy fire was back, Scarlett saw to her satisfaction.“Thanks, Scarlett. I guess I needed to hear that.”

“But being in your corner doesn’t mean I’m wearing that ass-ugly outfit—no way.”

Vesta laughed“Fine. You can wear whatever the hell you want. And tonight? We’re going to kick some ass!”

Chapter 7

Dooley glanced at his friend Max and wasn’t happy with what he saw. Max looked preoccupied, he thought. Worried. And he was pretty sure it had something to do with this whole peeing-in-thewater-bowl episode.

Max was a kind cat—sometimes too kind for his own good. And Dooley was absolutely sure that Max had taken the incident very badly indeed, but was too nice to say it.

Dooley couldn’t imagine what it would be like for your best friend to abuse your trust like that. To do something so heinous and so gross, and then to come right out and just… blurt it out like that.

It was something that had been preying on his mind for the past couple of days now, ever since it happened, and he’d been thinking about telling Max the whole time but had been afraid to. And then with the fire, and death suddenly staring them right in the face, he’d just blurted it out, and now he’d have to live with the consequences: Max’s trust in him was obviously completely and utterly shattered, that was only to be expected, and it would take him a long time to learn how to trust again—if he ever would.

Dooley hopped down from his spot on the couch and walked over to the window again, to see if Odelia had arrived home yet. He wanted those water dispensers in place as soon as possible, to alleviate some of the damage he’d done.

He glanced over to Max again, and thought he caught his friend looking over to the kitchen, where his water bowl was placed, and Dooley knew exactly what he was thinking: if Dooley peed in my water bowl once, what’s going to stop him from doing it again? And how will I know?

Oh, the shame! The shame!

Dooley heaved a long and tremulous sigh. Replacing that water bowl with a dispenser wasn’t enough to make Max trust him again. Bigger and more drastic measures needed to be taken, and so he vowed to take them right this minute.

And then he was walking up to Max, and solemnly announced,“Max, I’m going to stop drinking.”

“Mh?” said Max, looking up.

“I said I’m going to stop drinking from now on.”

“And why would you do a silly thing like that?” asked Max, his glance frosty and his tone cold as ice. Clearly Max hated him right now. As well he should!

“Because when I don’t drink, I won’t have to pee, and when I don’t have to pee, I won’t accidentally pee in your bowl again.”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Max, annoyance making his eyes shoot javelins at his former friend.

“Just letting you know, Max,” said Dooley, walking away again. “Just letting you know.”

“Dooley!” said Max, but Dooley was already slouching off. He simply couldn’t bear the look in his former friend’s eyes: a look of sheer contempt and extreme loathing. And who could blame him? Not Dooley!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

I stared after my friend, wondering what had gotten into him this time. Dooley sometimes has a habit of seeing trouble where there’s no trouble at all, but stop drinking? That was extremely unhealthy, as far as I could tell. But since I was too busy trying to figure out why this assailant who’d attacked us in Marge and Tex’s attic had done what he did, I soon found my mind returning to this most baffling question.

Odelia must have wondered the same thing, for when she breezed in through the sliding glass doors a few minutes later, the first thing she said was,“I don’t get it, Max. Do you?”

“No, I don’t get it either,” I confessed.

“If he was a burglar, why didn’t he take anything? And if he was a pet killer, why did he use such a roundabout way? Unless he simply panicked when he saw you guys?”

“Usually people panic when they see a dog,” I pointed out. “Cats are not often considered a threat to your run-of-the-mill burglar.”

Odelia had walked up to the fridge and took out a bottle of cold water and poured herself a glass.“My uncle assigned Chase guard duty tonight,” she announced with a twinkle in her eye.

“Guard duty? Who is he guarding?”

“You guys!” said Odelia with a laugh. “And he’s not happy about it.”

“So… he’s going to sit out there in his car and guard us?”

“I think he’d prefer to sit in here and guard you,” said Odelia. “And since he can’t be on guard twenty-four hours, Uncle Alec will have to find a second person.”

“Dooley had a great idea,” I began.

“Oh, I know. He told me all about it. I was skeptical at first, but I’m starting to see his point. I’ll have to talk to my uncle, but I think it can probably be arranged.”

“Great,” I said, though I wasn’t really feeling all that great about the prospect of having to go into cat police academy training. Then again, sometimes the circumstances are such that you simply have no other option than to take the least desirable one.

“Dooley also said something about water and kibble dispensers?”

“Yeah, he feels bad about having done his business in my water bowl. And it got him thinking about who else might be doing the same thing.”

“I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about, Max,” said Odelia. “I change your water every day, so…”

“Oh, I know. And I’m sure that if someone did pee in my bowl, I’d smell it and tell you.” And the fact that I hadn’t, at any point in the last couple of weeks, smelled anything funny about my water, led me to think that Dooley might have made a mistake, and hadn’t, in fact, peed in my water bowl, but one of the other bowls instead, possibly Harriet’s, or Brutus’s, and since they often drank next door, where we also had an array of bowls, they never even found out. And since Odelia changed the water every day, Dooley’s little tinkle had simply been chucked down the sink, no harm done.

I’d meant to tell him, but I’d been so preoccupied with this whole burglary business that it had slipped my mind.

“So does your uncle think this man will be back?” I asked now.

“No idea. But if he does come back, he’ll have Chase to contend with this time. And I can assure you that is a prospect any would-be burglar or pet killer would be wise to avoid.”

Chapter 8

Chase walked into the police station thinking hard thoughts about his superior officer throwing him under the bus like that. He was a detective, for crying out loud—not a glorified catsitter.

Dolores, the station dispatcher and receptionist, saw him come in and said,“Is it true what they’re saying, Chase? That you’re guarding your girlfriend’s cats from now on?”

“Oh, don’t you start, too,” he grumbled as he joined Dolores for a chat. The red-haired middle-aged receptionist was a garrulous woman, and liked nothing better than to shoot the breeze with anyone who passed through her vestibule or happened to call in with some urgent or less urgent complaint.

“That’s what you get from being henpecked, Detective,” said Dolores in her trademark rasp. Then she gave him a wink. “Or I should probably say catpecked, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, idly leafing through her logbook. “Apparently the Chief thinks I’m the best man for the job, and who am I to question the big guy’s judgment?”

“Oh, I think you’re perfect for the job,” said Dolores. “And I’m sure with you around those cat killers won’t stand a chance.”

“It is a particularly heinous kind of crime,” he mused. “I mean, who in their right mind would lock up a couple of innocent pets and set them on fire? You have to be a really evil person to do a thing like that.” The whole episode had upset him to a degree. He hated violence against the innocent and the harmless, and pets were about the most innocent and harmless you could find. “When I get my hands on that piece of…”

“And I’m sure you will, Detective,” said Dolores knowingly. “So what was that guy doing in Marge’s attic is what I would like to know.”

“No idea. Apparently looking at some old photo albums. Marge and Tex’s wedding pictures. Though what anyone would want with those is frankly beyond me.”

“A mystery most baffling,” said Dolores. “So have you two set a date yet?”

“Oh, sure. September the fifth is the big day. Haven’t you gotten your invitation yet?”

“No, sir, I have not.” She shrugged. “I just figured you’d want to celebrate with friends and family only, and throw a separate party for colleagues at a later date or something.”

“No, I want you there, Dolores. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Dolores, clearly tickled pink at these words.

“I’ll ask Odelia. She’s been handling that kind of stuff, together with her mom and grandma.”

Dolores’s smile disappeared. “Well, that explains it, then.”

“What?”

“If Vesta is involved in the wedding preparations she’ll probably have vetoed me. Me and her don’t exactly get along.”

“And why doesn’t that surprise me?” said Chase with a smile. Vesta was an acquired taste, and more often than not rubbed people the wrong way.

“Is she still going ahead with this neighborhood watch thing of hers?”

“Yeah, that’s still going strong.”

“Bad idea, if you ask me. The Chief should never have allowed his mom to play amateur cop like that. She’ll create more trouble than she’s worth, her and Scarlett Canyon.”

“I think it’s all pretty harmless,” he said, tapping the counter and turning to go. “And as long as she’s out there patrolling the streets, she can’t cause trouble someplace else.”

“Hm,” said Dolores doubtfully. “Leave it to Vesta to cause trouble all over the place. Mark my words, Chase. The Chief will rue the day he set that woman loose on these fine streets of ours.”

And as Chase walked on, he wondered if Dolores was right. But then he figured the boss knew what he was doing. He had, after all, more experience dealing with his mother than anyone else in the precinct.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Charlene smiled at her guests. The two men could have been twins if she hadn’t known better: both were wearing identical charcoal suits, their hair perfectly coiffed by what looked like the same hairdresser, and they were even wearing the same glasses. The only difference between Mark Dawson and James Blatch, as far as she could determine, was that one was in charge of the proceedings, and the other was merely along for the ride.

“So you see, Madam Mayor,” said Mr. Blatch as he indicated the tablet on her desk. “Construction on the mall will provide plenty of jobs, and once the mall is operational, that will increase even more. Of course we’d prefer to recruit our workforce locally.”

“You did your homework, Mr. Blatch,” she said, leaning back. “But what you haven’t taken into consideration is the economic impact on the heart of our town. With so many new stores opening, don’t you think the town center will lose its appeal?”

“I can assure you that this whole ‘death of Main Street’ is simply a myth, Madam Mayor,” said the extremely tanned businessman with an indulgent smile. “The truth is that more shops means more shoppers, and those shoppers will also want to visit Main Street, and spend their hard-earned money on the local stores. Your town will thrive!”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Charlene. “Do you have hard evidence that this is the case? Projections, studies, things like that?”

“Oh, absolutely. And I’ll be more than happy to share them with you.”

The guy was a smooth talker, but then that was probably a given, as he was trying to sell her on an entire mall. She glanced up when the phone on her desk started ringing. She pressed a button.“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed, Imelda,” she began.

“It’s Chief Alec, Ma’am,” said her secretary, her voice betraying her distress. “He says it’s urgent.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she picked up the phone and threw her guests a reassuring glance and held up her finger.“Chief?” she said, listening intently.

“Charlene—it’s your uncle. He’s been in an accident.”

“My uncle? How…”

“Charlene, honey.” The Chief’s voice turned sorrowful. “I’m afraid he didn’t make it.”

Chapter 9

Tex wasn’t in a particularly good mood. When a man’s house is being burgled, and his cats are being attacked in his very own home, it’s enough to put any person off his game, and it was with this recent tragedy in mind that he now invited his next patient into his office. Usually this was Vesta’s job, but as usual his mother-in-law had decided to renege on her duties and instead gallivant all over town and play amateur cop instead.

It was one more thing to set the seal on his gloom, and as he tried to spirit a welcoming smile on his face so as not to scare off this new patient of his, he mentally wished for this long day to end already so he could go home and ascertain whether the security company his daughter’s future husband had promised he’d get in touch with, had secured his home to such an extent that it was now burglar-proof.

“Take a seat, please, Mr…” he said. It rarely happened that he saw a new patient these days, most of his patients were regulars who’d found their way to his office years ago.

The young man didn’t speak, and accepted his invitation to take a seat in silence. He was a clean-cut young man, and wouldn’t have looked out of place in a recruitment video for Mormon elders. His white shirt was crisp, his slacks perfectly creased, and he was wearing a nice paisley tie. Even his hair looked cutfrom the same mold Barbie’s Ken was cut from. The only thing that detracted from the picture of what could have been absolute male perfection were his ears, which stood out from his head a little.

“So what can I do for you?” asked Tex as he took a seat behind his desk and rested his elbows on his blotter, his fingers interlaced, projecting the image of the capable doctor.

“This may surprise you, Dr. Poole,” said the young man, “but I’m actually not here as a patient.”

“Oh?” said Tex. But then he got it. He pointed at the man. “I know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Sure. Sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. Am I right or am I right?” And he smiled the kind of smile that said, ‘Give me your best shot, salesman person, and please make sure to add the words Ten-day Cruise and Five-star Hotel to your sales pitch.’

But much to his surprise the young man shook his head.“I’m actually here for personal reasons,” he said, causing Tex to frown.

“Personal reasons?”

“Yes. You are Doctor Tex Poole, right?”

“That’s me.”

The young man smiled an engaging smile, and it was as if the sun suddenly broke through the cloud deck. He thrust out a hand.“My name is Dudley Checkers, Dr. Poole. But you probably know me as Jaqlyn’s son.”

“I do?”

“My mom told me all about you.”

“Jaqlyn… Checkers you say?” Tex threw his mind back… and a vague recollection stirred of a mousy brown-haired girl with freckles, braces and a lisp.

“She told me how you met, and how you were the love of her life.”

Tex gulped a little at this.“Love of her life, eh?”

“Sure. Don’t you remember? The only reason she broke up with you is because her parents made her. They were Western Baptists, and didn’t take kindly to their daughter dating a person who wasn’t a member of their church. It broke her heart, Dr. Poole.”

“Is that so?” he said, still trying to remember who this Jaqlyn person was exactly.

“And then when she discovered she was pregnant, of course there was hell to pay.”

“Pregnant!” he said. The plot was thickening—in fact it was thickening so fast Tex’s head was spinning.

“Her folks wanted her to have the baby, of course, and I can tell you, Dr. Poole, that I never stinted for love and affection. Oh, no, sir, I did not.” The young man’s smile turned positively Hollywoodian now—wide and toothy. “Mom told me the whole story last month. She died, you see, anddidn’t want to leave this world without laying it all out for me—a tearful moment, I can tell you. She told me to go and meet my dad… and gave me his name.” The kid then stuck out his hand. “I’m so happy to finally meet you… Daddy!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“How did it happen?” asked Charlene as she stared down into the empty pool.

“He must have lost his balance,” said Alec. “If it’s any consolation, he never knew what happened. Simply fell in and… well, died.”

She nodded. She’d always been fond of this uncle of hers, even though they hadn’t been in touch all that much lately. Since becoming mayor of Hampton Cove her schedule had been pretty crammed, and then with romance suddenly sweeping into her life…

She placed a hand on her boyfriend’s arm, and he hugged her close. “We’re still asking around, but so far the story checks out: he was out here, inspecting the work when it happened. No one else around.”

“He’d always been fond of his job. Said building pools was the best job in the world. And he was good at it, too. Best pool builder in the county.”

“I know. If I was in the market for a pool I’d have hired your uncle. He was the best.”

They were in the backyard of a villa that was still under construction. The owners had decided to go all in and had hired Frank Butterwick to put in a pool.

“If only he’d fallen in at the shallow end,” said Charlene as she wiped away a tear.

Abe Cornwall, the county coroner, looked up from his inspection of the body.“Not much I can tell you that you don’t already know,” he said, addressing the Chief. “Contusions consistent with a fall from this height. Death was instantaneous, I’d say.”

“Thanks, Abe,” said Alec, and gently led Charlene away from the grisly scene. “I’ve already called your mom and dad. They’ll be here soon.”

She glanced up when she saw a couple of her uncle’s workers, talking animatedly amongst each other. “Did you talk to them?” she asked. “What did they say?”

“They weren’t here when it happened. None of them were. Your uncle had a habit of being the first to arrive in the morning, and work out the day’s schedule.”

“Who found him?”

“That fellow over there,” said Alec, pointing to a gangly guy with an overbite. “Name is Grant Folkman. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yeah, I’d like to,” she said, so they walked over to where her uncle’s men were standing around, and Alec nodded a greeting.

“This is Frank’s niece,” he introduced Charlene. “And this here is Grant. You found Charlene’s uncle, isn’t that right, Grant?”

“Yeah—big shock it was, too,” said Grant, dropping down the stub of his cigarette and crushing it under his heel. “He was a great guy, Mrs. Butterwick.”

“Miss,” said Charlene, more out of habit than anything else. “How long have you worked for my uncle, Grant?”

“Oh, about three years now, I think? There wasn’t a lot of turnover, which probably says something about Frank. He wasn’t just a great guy, but a great boss, too.”

“He could yell up a storm, though, couldn’t he?” said one of Grant’s colleagues.

“Yeah, Frank was definitely a yeller,” said Grant with a smile. “But you knew he didn’t mean it. He yelled but not in a nasty way, if you know what I mean.”

She smiled.“Yeah, I think I do.”

Grant gave her a shifty-eyed glance.“Do you—do you know what’s going to happen now, Miss? I mean, with Frank gone and all?”

“No, I’m sorry but I wasn’t involved in my uncle’s business. Didn’t he have a business partner?”

“Yeah, but he kinda disappeared,” said Grant with a shrug.

“Disappeared? What do you mean?”

“Just that. He was here one day and gone the next. Frank wasn’t happy about it, but what could he do?”

“And who was this business partner?” asked Alec.

“Um… well, personally I never met him, but I think his name was Pollard? He was what you might call a silent partner?”

“Oh, he sure was silent, all right,” said the other worker. “So silent we never saw him.”

Charlene nodded.“I’m sure my family will sort it all out. My parents will be here soon, and my dad—he helped set up my uncle’s business. I’m sure he knows all about it.”

“Thanks, Miss Butterwick,” said the young man with a nod.

And as Charlene and Alec walked off, she heard him say to his buddy,“Good-looking woman, that Miss Butterwick,” and she smiled.

“I’ll try to get in touch with this business partner,” said Alec.

“No, don’t bother. My dad will sort it all out. He’s in charge now. He’ll decide what to do with the business.”

“Fair enough,” said Alec, and gave her a look of concern. “Will you be all right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” she said with a wave of the hand. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll wait until my parents are here and then I have to get back.”

“The mall meeting?”

“I canceled it. For now.”

“Good,” he said, making perfectly clear what he thought of the project.

Chapter 10

I was sipping from my bowl of water when I noticed Dooley intently looking at me from the sidelines. It was a little disconcerting, to be honest. I’m one of those cats that don’t like it when people look at them when they’re eating or drinking. I don’t know why, but it simply makes me nervous. Even when it’s a close friend like Dooley doing the staring, it makes me a little giggly. And it made me more than a little giggly now.

“What?” I asked finally, when he wouldn’t stop looking.

“How can you do that, Max?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Do what?” I asked as I licked the few drops of water dangling from my mustache.

“Drink without making sure if the water is clean.”

I frowned at him.“I’m pretty sure that Odelia wouldn’t give us bad water to drink,” I said. “And besides, I also like to think that my sense of smell and my sense of taste are capable enough to make sure that this water is fine for feline consumption.”

“But how can you be sure, Max?” he insisted. “How can you be absolutely sure?”

“Um… Well, I guess one can never be one hundred percent sure, but that’s where trust features into the thing. I trust Odelia not to poison me, so there’s that.”

He shook his head sadly, then said,“Are you absolutely sure the water was fine?”

I glanced at my bowl, then back at my friend.“What do you mean?”

He suddenly gestured to a carton of grapefruit juice lying next to him. I recognized it as belonging to Chase, who likes all forms of fruit juice, and likes to switch things up, too.

“Are you sure the water didn’t taste like… grape?” asked Dooley with a meaningful look in his eyes.

“I…” Giving the water another lick, I determined that yes, it did indeed taste a little bit like grapefruit juice. But just a hint, you know. I smiled at my friend. “You tricked me!”

“I did,” he said gravely. “Just to show you that you can never be too careful.”

And then understanding dawned.“Is this still about the peeing in my bowl thing?”

“Oh, Max! You say you would have noticed if I peed in your bowl. That Odelia must have changed the water before you had a chance to drink from that contaminated bowl. But I think what happened is you simply didn’t pay attention and you drank that entire bowl. Just like you did now.” His voicebroke, and that mournful expression was back.

“Look, even if I did, no harm done, right? A little bit of pee won’t kill me.”

He gave me a look of profound shock.“Max, how can you say that! I tried to poison you and you’re treating the whole thing so—so flippantly!”

“Because it’s not a big deal,” I said, and patted my friend on the back. “Hey, now. Don’t feel bad, Dooley. We all make mistakes, and that’s fine. No harm done, right?”

“Oh, Max,” he said. “I don’t deserve a friend like you. I really don’t.” And with these words, he shuffled off, looking even more dejected than before.

And I would have gone after him to get it through that thick skull of his that it really wasn’t a big deal, but then Gran waltzed in and made a beeline for me. “Max! Great news, buddy. The watch will be patrolling the streets of this neighborhood tonight, and if we see any sign of this cat killer, we’ll nab him and nab him good!”

“Great,” I said without much excitement.

“Aren’t you thrilled?” she asked censoriously. “You should be thrilled. The watch is here to protect you. You and every other member of our neighborhood.”

“No, it’s just that… Dooley is acting really weird, and I don’t know how to get him out of his funk.”

“The watch can’t help you there… but I can,” she finished on a triumphant note. “I’ll talk to that young whippersnapper, shall I? What seems to be the problem this time?”

“He peed in my water bowl and now he blames himself and figures I’m angry with him—which I’m not.”

“Peed in your water bowl,” said Gran, committing this to memory as she tapped her temple. “Got it. I’ll get on it right away. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.”

She picked me up and gave me a closer scrutiny.“No lingering effects from the fire?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Cause I can get you a pet shrink if you want. Or a trauma specialist.”

“No need,” I said. “And with you patrolling the streets I feel so much safer already.”

Her smile was infectious, and touching.“That’s what I’m doing this for, Max. For people like you.” And with these words, she put me down again and was off with a spring in her step. “The watch is watching!” she announced as she passed through the door and out into the backyard. “So watch out!”

I couldn’t help but grin at this. And if she could make Dooley see the light, so much the better. And it was with a heart filled with hope that I set paw for the great outdoors myself. The sun was out in full force, and frankly I could do with a bit of fresh air. And I was just passing through the hole in the hedge and going in search of Brutus and Harriet when suddenly Tex came walking out of the house, a clean-cut young man in tow.

Marge, who’d been hanging up the laundry, looked up.

“Marge, honey,” said Tex. “I want you to meet someone. Dudley, this is Marge, my wife. Marge, this is Dudley Checkers. Dudley is… my son.”

Chapter 11

“He doesn’t look like Tex,” said Brutus.

“It’s the ears,” said Harriet. “Try to picture him without those floppy ears and I think he looks just like Tex.”

“I think he looks like Marge,” said Dooley.

“He can’t look like Marge, Dooley,” I said. “Marge isn’t his mother.”

The four of us were on the porch swing, intently watching the scene as it played out in the backyard. Tex had introduced his new son to his wife, and Marge was so taken aback she’d almost fallen on her tushy.

“I don’t understand,” said Dooley. “If Tex is Dudley’s father, then Marge must be his mother, right?”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “As I understand it Tex had a girlfriend before he met Marge and he and this girlfriend had, um, relations, and that’s where this kid comes from.”

Dooley chewed on that for a long moment. Judging from the thought wrinkle that appeared on his furry brow, it was tough going for a while, but finally he said, “So if he’s Tex’s son but not Marge’s… what does that make him?”

“It makes him Marge’s… stepson, I guess?” said Harriet. “And Odelia’s stepbrother.”

Dooley’s eyes went a little wider. “Odelia has a brother?”

“Yeah, this guy we’re looking at right now,” said Brutus.

“But… he doesn’t look like Odelia at all, so how can he be her brother?”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with an eyeroll.

“What’s going on?” asked Gran, who’d come out of the house munching on a cream cheese bagel and now took a seat next to us on the swing, her short legs dangling.

“Tex just found out he has a son,” I said. “And he told Marge but I don’t think she’s happy about it.”

Gran almost dropped her bagel.“Tex? A son? What the hell are you talking about?”

“This kid just introduced himself and said he’s Tex’s son,” said Harriet with a shrug. “That’s all I know.”

“That’s all any of us know,” I said, with just a touch of chagrin. Usually we’re the best-informed cats in Hampton Cove and now it appeared as if there was a very big secret that we hadn’t been clued into, and it had hit very close to home, too.

“I don’t believe this,” said Gran, gawking at this Dudley character, who now stood beaming at Marge. “Tex has a son.” She narrowed her eyes at the kid. “How old is he?”

“Um… probably in his late twenties?” I guessed.

“Huh,” said Gran, and started munching her bagel again, though judging from the mechanical movements of her jaw she was thinking hard—almost as hard as Dooley.

“I don’t know if I like this, Max,” Dooley confessed. “A brother for Odelia. What does it mean?”

“What do you mean what does it mean? It means what it means,” I said, becoming philosophical for a change.

“I mean is he going to move in with us? Or move in with Marge and Tex?”

“I doubt that very much,” I said. “He probably has a place of his own. So why would he move in with us?”

“Great news, you guys!” Tex suddenly announced, including us in the conversation. “Dudley is moving in with us!”

“Oh, for God’s sakes,” said Gran, not sounding all that excited at the prospect of welcoming this new grandson of hers into the family.

“Tex!” said Marge suddenly. “Can I have a word? In private?” she added pointedly.

“Oh, sure. Make yourself at home, Dudley.Mi casa es su casa and all that, right?”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Dudley. He looked as fresh-faced and excited to meet his dad as any son who’s just met his long-lost dad for the first time.

Marge and Tex charged into the house and Marge slammed the kitchen door for good measure.

“Uh-oh,” said Gran. “Looks like trouble in the family.”

“Do you think Marge is unhappy about having a son?” asked Dooley.

“You can bet she is,” said Gran, then muttered, “I’m going to have to shut up now, you guys. He’s coming over to talk to me.” And then she plastered the fakest smile on her face I’d ever seen outside of a soap opera finale, and said, “So nice to meet you… Dudley, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Dudley, and held out a hand, which Gran shook after a moment’s hesitation. And since her hand was smeared with cream cheese, Dudley’s hand was now also smeared with cream cheese, which he didn’t seem all that happy about.

“See, Max?” said Dooley. “That’s how easy contamination can happen. And before you know it you’re eating or drinking someone else’s contaminants.”

“Has Gran talked to you yet?” I asked.

“No, why?” he said. Then, alarmed, added, “She’s not sick or dying, is she?”

“Gran is fine. It’s you that’s not fine. Harping on this pee incident the whole time.”

“But it’s important, Max!”

“Oh, will you please give it a rest already,” said Harriet. “What’s done is done, Dooley, so drop the subject, will you?”

“But—”

“It’s happened to me many, many times, Dooley,” said Brutus, placing a brotherly paw on my friend’s shoulder. “And do you see me fretting? Do you see me making a big fuss?”

“It happened to you many times?” said Harriet with a laugh. “What do you mean?”

“Well, sometimes I have to pee so bad that I don’t reach my litter box in time, and since I don’t want to pee on the floor, or, God forbid, in a flowerpot, I often pick the first suitable receptacle I see, and in many cases that’s one of the water bowls.”

We all stared at the cat now.“What water bowls?” asked Harriet.

“Well, I try to be fair and square about it, so if I pick Max’s bowl one day, I always try to pick Dooley’s the next, or… yours…”

Harriet’s eyes were shooting sheets of flame in the direction of her one and true love. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been peeing in my water bowl all this time?”

He gave her a guarded look.“Well, notall the time, if you see what I mean—justsome of the time.”

“Why don’t you pee in your own bowl, Brutus?” I asked. “Why pee in ours?”

He stared at me thoughtfully.“Huh. I guess the thought has never occurred to me to pee in my own bowl. Though now that you mention it, maybe that’s what I should have done from the beginning,” he added when he caught Harriet’s furious look amidships and rocked back a little.

“I can’t believe you’ve been peeing in our bowls!” Harriet cried.

“Just a tinkle,” he said. “The pre-pee, if you catch my drift. To tide me over until I can reach my litter box without having an accident. Just those first few drops, you know.”

“Oh, I do know, and now I understand why my water sometimes tastes a little off.”

“See, Max?” said Dooley. “You’ve been drinking Brutus’s pee all this time and you didn’t even notice.”

“Well, so have you, Dooley,” I pointed out, and watched my friend’s face fall.

“Ewww!” he said. “I’m never drinking from my bowl again!”

Suddenly those water dispensers sounded like a great idea.

At least Brutus wouldn’t be able to take a tinkle in those. Or would he?

Chapter 12

Odelia was hard at work on her article about the attack on her cats that morning when her uncle waltzed into her office. She was surprised to see him, for he was usually not in the habit of visiting her at the Gazette offices.

“Hey, Uncle Alec,” she said. And when she noticed the careworn expression on her uncle’s face when he took a seat, she immediately feared the worst. “Did Charlene break up with you again?”

Immediately he gave her a look of indignation.“No, she did not. What makes you think that?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just… you have that look.”

“Charlene did not break up with me,” he said emphatically. “Whatever people say.” He eyed her intently. “Have people been saying that about us? Is that it?”

“No, I haven’t picked up any gossip about you and Charlene lately.”

Often people in Hampton Cove, when they had nothing better to do, enjoyed spending their time gossiping about anyone and everyone, and even when they didn’t have time they still considered it their most beloved pastime for some reason.

“Charlene’s uncle died this morning,” he said, glancing around her office for a moment before settling his gaze on her again. “Looks like an accident. He installed pools for a living,” he explained, “and he fell in at the deep end of an empty pool. Died on impact, according to Abe.”

“That’s terrible,” said Odelia. “Was Charlene close with her uncle?”

“Not particularly, but she was fond of him. Well, you know how it is. You’re close to all of your relatives when you’re little, then you go off to college and start your career and those once close family bonds tend to fall by the wayside as you build your own life.”

“Except for us,” she said with a smile.

Her uncle reciprocated with a goofy smile of his own.“Yeah, except for our family. But anyway, I was thinking that if you don’t have too much work on your hands right now that maybe you could look into this guy’s death for me?”

She arched an inquisitive eyebrow.“You mean hisaccident?”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that.”

“You think he was murdered?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders.“Honestly? No idea. Call it a hunch, but I have the feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“Sure, I’ll look into it if you want. But is there a particular reason you’re asking me and not one of your officers?”

“If the police get involved it will be in the context of an official police inquiry, and that’s exactly what I don’t want. I want everyone to think it’s a simple accident.”

“You don’t want to alarm the murderer.”

“If there is a murderer,” he said.

“Gotcha.”

“Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Charlene.”

“You don’t want her to know her uncle may have been murdered?”

“No, I don’t. She’s got enough on her plate as it is. And if I’m wrong about this, I don’t want her to get all worked up about it for no reason.”

“Sure. I’ll be super-discreet.” When her uncle didn’t make any indication of getting up, she frowned. “Is there more?”

He scratched his nose.“Well, um… your grandmother just sent me a text. Looks like there’s going to be a family extension.”

“A family extension? What do you mean?”

“Yeah, a kid just came forward claiming he’s your dad’s son.”

Odelia blinked. Whatever she’d been expecting, it most definitely wasn’t this. “My dad’s son? You mean…”

“Looks like your dad dated the kid’s mom at some point and she ended up pregnant and had his baby.” He held up his hands. “That’s all I know.”

“My dad… has a son,” she said, highly taken aback by this unexpected piece of news. “I wonder how Mom is taking this.”

“Knowing my sister, not well,” said her uncle, who was still making no indication of having said his bit. “And in other news, your grandmother is going to start patrolling the streets at night, looking for that so-called cat killer.”

“That’s great,” said Odelia, nodding. “I hope she catches the guy.”

“Yeah, well, all I know is that when Vesta is out and about, trouble usually follows her around like a newborn pup.” He got up. “Oh, and that dog you were asking about? I think I found just the one.”

“You did? Hey, that’s great!”

“Yeah, he’s a bit long in the tooth maybe, but by all accounts he used to be a fine police dog when he was still on active duty.”

Her face fell.“You’re getting me a retired dog?”

“Of course. What did you expect? That you were getting an active dog? Those are all spoken for, honey. But Rambo is a mighty fine specimen, so your cats will be absolutely safe.” Her uncle flashed her a quick grin. “And he’s had all his shots, too.”

And with these words, he left the office, giving the doorframe a rap as he went.

A retired police dog to guard her cats, Grandma Muffin patrolling the streets and, most importantly, a stepbrother. No wonder her uncle felt the need to drop by in person.

She picked up her phone and called her mom but the call went straight to voicemail. So instead she called her grandmother, who picked up at the first ring.

“What do you want?” growled the older lady.

“Is it true that I have a stepbrother?” she asked.

Gran chuckled loudly.“Yeah, you do. And he’s something else, too.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No, that good. The perfect son! Very polite, very nice, and not too bad-looking either. Though he should probably do something about his ears, and that’s exactly what I told him.”

“His ears?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. When are you coming home to meet your new brother?”

Her heart sank.“How is Mom taking it?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m guessing… not good?”

“You’re guessing right. If I were in your father’s shoes right now I’d want to be zapped up by Captain Kirk and taken aboard the Starship Enterprise to the far side of the galaxy.”

“That bad, huh.”

“Better get over here before she commits involuntary manslaughter is all I’m saying.”

And as she disconnected, Odelia wondered where this new brother of hers had suddenly sprung from. Mom’s worst nightmare, probably.

Chapter 13

When Charlene returned to her office she was surprised that the two businessmen trying to sell her on the idea of a new shopping mall for Hampton Cove were still there.

She’d thought for sure they would have left by now.

Imelda, her secretary, made her aware of their presence when she said, in an exaggerated whisper,“They refused to leave! Said they preferred to await your return rather than reschedule!”

If she hadn’t been in the mood to discuss the development of a shopping mall project before, she certainly wasn’t now, after learning about the tragic death of her uncle. But she’d long ago accepted that a public servant wasn’t always in control of their agenda, and that compromises would have to be made along the way.

So she waltzed into her office to find the same two gentlemen still seated at her desk, as if they hadn’t moved a muscle. The only difference was that they’d brought out their model, and had placed it right on top of her desk.

She stared at the thing now, and had to admit that it looked pretty neat indeed.

“Ah, Madam Mayor,” said Mr. Blatch, still rocking that incredible tan of his, and those shiny white teeth. “We were hoping you’d come back.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “A family emergency.”

“We absolutely understand,” said Mr. Dawson, who was the more soft-spoken and reticent of the twosome. “I hope the news wasn’t too bad?”

“My uncle died,” she blurted out. “Fell into an empty pool and cracked his skull.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Mr. Blatch, his smile faltering.

“Terrible tragedy, I’m sure,” said his colleague, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

There was a moment’s silence after that—a respectable silence, Charlene liked to think, but the moment she opened her mouth to speak, both men’s smiles returned and they proudly pointed to the model. “This is what she will look like,” said Mr. Blatch.

“A gem, don’t you think?” said Mr. Dawson.

“A jewel in Hampton Cove’s crown.”

“It looks pretty… impressive,” she had to admit. And then she noticed the name written above the mall entrance: The Butterwick Mall.

“Do you like the name? We can always change it,” said Mr. Dawson.

“How about the Charlene Shopping Center?” said Mr. Blatch.

“Or the Butterwick Galleria.”

“Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you agree, Madam Mayor?”

She smiled. She’d been in politics long enough to know when she was being played. “Look, I don’t care about the name. I just want what’s best for this town,” she said.

“Oh, we absolutely agree,” said Mr. Blatch.

“Absolutely,” said Mr. Dawson. “Which is why we’ve gone to the trouble of acquiring the land the mall will be built on—just in case.”

“Just in case,” mimicked his fellow real estate developer.

“You already bought up all the land?” she asked.

“All except one plot,” said Mr. Blatch.

“One teensy tiny plot of land.”

“Unfortunately it’s also the most important plot, as it’s located right… there,” said Mr. Blatch, and pointed to the center of the mall, where a very nice fountain stood.

“And who owns that land?” she asked, curious in spite of herself.

Mr. Blatch ceremoniously got out his phone and tapped it, then announced,“One Tex Poole, who acquired the land back in 1995 but then never developed it.”

“It just sits there,” said his colleague, shaking his head and tut-tutting slightly.

“Isn’t that just sad? To buy a piece of land, ripe for building, and then never build?”

“Did you just say… Tex Poole?” asked Charlene, taken aback.

Both men nodded.“Yep. Tex Poole,” said Mr. Blatch. “I have it right here on my phone so it must be right.”

“We contacted Mr. Poole, and so far he’s refusing to sell, unfortunately.”

“Which is why we were hoping for the council’s approval, so we can fast-track the process of buying him out.”

“Or finding some other solution,” said Mr. Dawson, giving her a knowing wink.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said.

Both men looked taken aback.“Oh, no, we don’t what?” asked Mr. Blatch.

“You do know that Tex Poole is my boyfriend’s brother-in-law, of course.”

“Your brother-in-law?” asked Mr. Dawson, looking genuinely surprised.

“I can assure you that we didn’t know, Madam Mayor,” said Mr. Blatch.

“Absolutely no idea.”

“None whatsoever.”

They looked earnest enough, but then you never knew with these business types, Charlene thought. They could simply be using her to get to Tex, if he really did own that piece of land, and was refusing to sell.

“Look, we’ll leave this here with you, how about that?” said Mr. Blatch, lovingly placing both hands on the model and giving it a gentle tap.

“And we’ll let you discuss it with the members of the town council,” said Mr. Dawson.

“And when you’ve made up your mind, please let us know at your earliest convenience.”

“Because if we’re going to pursue this, we need to move fast.”

“Other towns are clamoring for this highly unique and promising project, and so we’re not going to be able to leave this on the table for much longer.”

“Another… five days, perhaps?”

“Let’s make it seven,” said his partner.

And then both men got up swiftly and held out their hands. She shook them and watched them leave, then returned her gaze to the model right under her nose.

It did look pretty darn impressive. A mall for Hampton Cove, and a mall carrying her name at that. Mom and Dad would be really proud if she would be able to pull this off.

But then she shook herself. She wasn’t going to be tempted by vanity. She needed to figure out if this was a good thing for the town or not, and not be swayed by ulterior motives.

Then again. The Butterwick Mall? It sounded pretty cool.

Chapter 14

Dinner was a family affair, as everyone wanted to meet Tex’s new son in person. Even Uncle Alec and Charlene were there, and so was Scarlett, who’s Gran’s best friend.

We were all seated in Tex and Marge’s backyard, though if the guests had expected Marge to lay out a nice big spread they were sadly mistaken. In fact Tex had had to order pizza because his wife made it clear that she would never, under any circumstances, cook for this son of his he hadn’t told her about in the twenty-five yearsthey’d been married.

I think it was safe to say that Marge was livid, and Tex looked distinctly ill at ease.

“So how did you find out that Tex was your dad?” asked Scarlett, who’s never shy to ask the really tough questions. She would have made a great reporter, I reckoned.

“My mama told me before she died,” said the kid, whose ears really were quite large.

“On her death bed, huh? How romantic,” said Scarlett, with a distinct lack of tact.

“Yeah, she would have told me sooner but she was always afraid to,” said Dudley. “But when she got the diagnosis she knew she had to make a choice: take her secret into the grave, or tell me. And I’m glad she opted for the latter,” he added, directing a proud glance at his father. “In fact I’m happy things turned out the way they did. Not with my mother dying, I mean, but with me finally finding my dad. Can you pass me the ketchup, Daddy?”

“Sure… son,” said Tex awkwardly.

“So is it true that Dad offered for you to stay here?” asked Odelia now.

“Yeah, I’m in between homes right now? I was living with my mom the last couple of months, taking care of her. But since she died her sister, my Auntie Ellen, put the house on the market, and so I don’t have anywhere to stay right now.”

“You can stay in the attic,” said Marge, earning herself a startled look from her husband.

“Honey, I thought he could take the spare bedroom.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, we don’t have a spare bedroom anymore, Tex,” said Marge icily. “We turned it into a storage space,” she explained for the sake of Dudley.

“Oh, but the attic is perfectly fine,” said Dudley, squirting a big helping of ketchup on his pizza and then taking a big bite. “In fact any room will do. I’m used to living rough.”

“Didn’t your mother ever marry?” asked Gran, who is just as curious as Scarlett and just as shameless in her questions.

Dudley’s face darkened. “I did have a stepdad for a while, but he wasn’t the kindest man in the world.” He shrugged. “What can I say? In between the beatings and the verbal abuse he was okay, I guess. But I was still happy when Mom finally kicked him out.”

“That sounds pretty terrible,” said Odelia with feeling.

“Yeah, it wasn’t the best time of my life.” The kid’s face creased into a big smile. “But things are finally looking up now that I finally found my daddy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” said Gran, giving her daughter a curious look, which Marge pointedly chose to ignore.

“What do you think about Tex’s new son, Max?” asked Dooley.

The four of us were lying a little ways away on the cooling lawn, observing the humans’ interactions with a distinct sense of astonishment. It’s not every day that suddenly your humans’ number is expanded with the arrival on the scene of a new son.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “He sure seems nice enough. But I don’t like that he’s causing this rift between Marge and Tex.”

“He’s causing a rift?!” asked Dooley, giving me a look of surprise.

“Oh, Dooley, can’t you see yourself how hard Marge is taking this whole situation?” said Harriet. “She’s obviously suffering.”

Dooley studied Marge for a moment, then shook his head.“She looks all right to me.”

“That’s because you’re a guy,” said Harriet. “Guys always have a hard time putting themselves in the shoes of a girl.”

“Why would I want to wear Marge’s shoes?” asked Dooley. “I never wear shoes.”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with a sigh.

“I like him,” said Brutus. “I think he looks just like Odelia. And if he would do something about those ears of his, I think I would probably like him even more.”

“Which just goes to show what a superficial cat you really are,” snapped Harriet. She’d obviously not forgiven her boyfriend for peeing in our bowls yet. “I just hope for your sake,Brutus, that you haven’t been doing number two in our kibble bowls,” she added, causing both Dooley and I to give her a look of horror.

“Number two in our kibble bowls!” Dooley cried.

“For the record,” said Brutus stoically, “I did not—I repeat, I did not—do number two in your kibble bowls.”

“Oh? And why would I believe you?”

“Look, I just didn’t, all right? There’s a big difference between doing number one and doing number two in someone’s bowl, is what I mean to say.”

“The only difference is in your head, Brutus,” said Harriet. “And you know why? Because you have no respect for me, that’s why.”

“I have all the respect in the world for you, sugar plum. Absolutely. I just never thought—”

“I’d find out?”

“—I’d suffer an accident like that.”

“And how many times did you suffer this ‘accident?’” she asked, making air quotes.

“Um…” He shot a quick glance in my direction and I held up a single digit. “Um…” I stressed the digit with a pointed look in his direction. “Um… maybe like… six times?”

“Six times!”

Oh, dear. Now he’d gone and done it.

“You peed in my bowl six times?”

“Well, no. Like I said, I always tried to be fair and share the, um…”

“Fruits of your labor. I see. So you peed in my bowl twice, in Dooley’s bowl twice and in Max’s bowl also twice, is that it?”

“It could have been less… or more. I didn’t exactly keep count.”

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

“Right!” Harriet got up and walked off. And when Brutus made to follow her, she said, “No, Brutus. You’re in the doghouse from now on. So please stay right where you are.”

“But—”

But Harriet held up her paw.“Talk to the paw, Brutus. Talk to the paw.” And then she was gone, presumably to take a long hard long sniff at her water bowland her kibble bowl, to determine whether Brutus had or had not relieved himself there.

“I told you specifically to tell her you only had that mishap once!” I told Brutus.

“Oh, is that why you held up one claw?”

“Yes, Brutus. That was why I held up one claw. One, as in: one lapse of judgment on your part—not six!”

“I only did it once,” said Dooley. “And look where it got me.”

“Dooley, did Gran have the talk with you yet?” I asked.

“What talk?”

“You’ll see.” I turned back to Brutus. “Look, buddy, youhave to tell Harriet it only happened once, and even then you peed in yourown bowl,not hers. It’s important.”

“Why? You think she’ll stay mad at me if I don’t?”

“Oh, yes, she will. She’ll stay mad at you pretty much for the rest of your natural life, and possibly even long after that—haunting you in the afterlife.”

“Oh, boy,” he said with a sigh as he placed his head on his paws. “I should have known it was a bad idea. I just figured a little pre-tinkle wouldn’t hurt anyone, you know. Seeing as there are so many people that drink their own pee and seem to like it.”

This had Dooley look up in surprise.“People drink their own pee?”

“Oh, sure. Some guy called Gandhi used to drink his own pee all the time, or so I’m told. He swore by it. And plenty of others, too, and they think it’s just the greatest thing.”

“But why?” asked Dooley. Clearly this wasn’t something he’d seen on the Discovery Channel yet.

“They claim numerous health benefits—too numerous for me to name them.”

“You mean you didn’t pay attention,” I said.

“Yeah there’s that,” he admitted. “Look, I can’t just tell Harriet that I made a mistake and in fact only peed once, and in my own bowl at that. She’ll never believe me now.”

“Then I’ll tell her.”

He gave me a skeptical look.“She’ll just think you’re trying to cover for me.”

“Brilliant, Brutus! That’s brilliant!” I said.

“What is?”

“Never mind. I know exactly what to say to make this whole thing go away.”

And with these words, I trotted off in Harriet’s wake, leaving Brutus and Dooley to stare after me in wonder.

Chapter 15

“Look, I promise you that’s how it went down,” I told Harriet. “Don’t you believe me?” I added with an incredulous little laugh.

“So you expect me to believe thatyou’re actually the one who peed in my bowl, and when you told Brutus he decided to take the rap for your mishap and fessed up instead?”

“That’s how it happened,” I said with a shrug. “Brutus immediately understood you’d be very upset, and since he didn’t want two of his best friends to be mad at each other, he told me he’d tell you he’d done it instead.”

“Oh, Max. It’s very sweet of you to try and get Brutus off the hook and all, but—”

“I’m not trying to get Brutus off the hook!” I cried. “I accidentally peed in your bowl, and when I told him he said, ‘I’ll take care of it, Max,’ and that’s the God’s honest truth!”

She studied me for a moment.“Either you’re a much better liar than I always thought you were, or this really happened.”

“Trust me, it happened,” I said, and projected my most honest face. It was important I healed this rift between the two partners, as I could sense that Harriet, who is just about the most prissy cat I know, would never tolerate this kind of abuse of her personal hygiene by her partner. From me she might—just might—accept it. Maybe.

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “I find it hard to believe you would have an ‘accident’ on your way to your litter box and decide to relieve yourself in my bowl—my bowl!”

“Look, I already explained to you how I thought it was my bowl, and I only saw it was yours after I’d already done the deed. And I promise you that as soon as I realized what had happened, I told Marge, and she threw out the contaminated water and replaced it with fresh water from the tap.”

“So you promise me I never drank from your…” She made a disgusted face. “… whatever?”

“I promise you that the stuff never touched your lips, Harriet.”

“Mh.” She thought for a moment, then said, “Pinky swear?”

“Pinkie swear,” I said with a smile, and as soon as I held up my pinkie, I felt a giant load fall from my back.

Just then, Brutus and Dooley walked in, and Brutus said,“Dooley has something he wants to confess, Harriet.”

“It was me,” said Dooley mournfully. “I peed in your bowl, not Brutus. And when I told him what I’d done he said he’d take the blame.”

Have you ever watched a volcano right before it erupts? It’s not a pretty sight. Steam rises up from its innards, and you just know it’s going to explode any moment, and you’re going to get pummeled with pieces of hot lava and rocks and that famous pyroclastic cloud that moves at 400 miles an hour and destroys everything in its wake.

Well, just such a moment had now arrived, only the volcano was Harriet, and even though the warning signs were all there, Brutus gave her a look of such inanity that he reminded me of how the inhabitants of Pompeii must have looked just before they got the boiling contents of Mount Vesuvius dumped in their unsuspecting necks.

So I decided I’d better run for cover, and as I passed Dooley, I grabbed his paw and steered him in the direction of the pet flap.

And we’d only just left Marge and Tex’s kitchen when the eruption began.

I can promise you it wasn’t pretty.

“Why did you go and do that for?” I asked as soon as we were out of earshot.

“Do what for?” asked Dooley innocently.

“Take the blame for Brutus’s mistake.”

“Well, he asked me to. He suddenly got the idea and asked me to tell Harriet what I just told her.”

“Oh, dear,” I said. I probably should have included Brutus and Dooley in my plans, and laid it all out for them in the minutest detail for the meanest intelligence to understand. But I’d wanted to catch Harriet before she disappeared, and that was my fatal mistake.

Now she wouldn’t merely be upset with Brutus, but with me and Dooley, too, for trying to deceive her.

“Dooley?” suddenly asked Gran as we passed the table of adults. “A word, please?”

So I left Dooley in Grandma’s care, while I went off in search of some peace and quiet. I needed to think up a new strategy on how to deal with Harriet’s latest eruption. The future of our friendly foursome depended on it.

And I’d just entered the house when I came upon Dudley Checkers, wandering around Odelia’s living room, and looking at picture frames and generally making himself right at home—in a house that technically wasn’t his.

“Oh, hi there,” he said when he saw me. “Max, is it?” He crouched down and tickled me under the chin. “Why, aren’t you a chunky kitty?”

I frowned at the guy. I don’t like to be called chunky. I mean, can I help it that I was born with big bones?

“So where are your friends, Max?” he asked. “Oh, that’s right. You divide your time between Odelia’s place and her parents’. Yeah, she told me all about you and your little buddies. She also told me you had a big scare this morning. Some crazy person tried to set you on fire.” He shook his head. “Personally I think crimes against pets are the worst crimes imaginable. Right up there with crimes against kids. But then that’s me. I’m a big pet fan myself.” He then gave me a big smile and tickled me behind the ears and got up.

I don’t know why, but I was already starting to like this kid. I mean, anyone who loves cats is all right in my book, you know.

Odelia then walked in, followed by Chase.“Oh, I see you’ve met Max,” said Odelia.

“Yeah, he’s a big cutie, isn’t he?” said Dudley.

“Yeah, we think so,” said Odelia.

For a moment an awkward silence ensued, the kind of awkward silence that tends to exist between a brother and a sister who’ve never met before and didn’t even know the other one existed until now. Then Odelia laughed an awkward little laugh, and so did Dudley, and then Chase said, “I have to tell you, Dudley, that the story you told us at dinner really got me, man. Your mom dying and you finding your dad and all? Heavy.”

“Thanks, Chase. I’m just glad I finally got to meet you guys. It’s just… I grew up thinking I was an only child, you know. And now suddenly… I’ve got a sister!”

Chase tapped his chest with his fist for some reason, and said,“And a brother, too, buddy,” then clasped the other guy in a tight embrace. There was a lot of back-slapping, and Odelia, wiping away a tear, watched the emotional scene, sniffling all the while.

And then she joined the group hug. And since I didn’t want to be left behind, I joined in, too.

What can I say? It’s one thing to see this stuff in a Lifetime movie, but something else to be suddenly right in the middle of it. And I may even have shed a happy tear, too.

Chapter 16

“Look, Dooley,” said Gran. “Sometimes people make mistakes, and that’s only natural. And sometimes cats make mistakes, and that’s okay, too. If they own up to those mistakes, and are honest about them and apologize, you will generally discover that your friends and your loved ones will find it in their hearts to forgive and forget.”

Dooley looked up at Gran, and said,“But what if the mistake is so big that they can’t forgive and forget, Gran?”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Gran, placing a hand on the small cat’s head. “Your mistake was a very small one, darling. In fact I don’t even think it can be called a mistake at all. I’d call it an accident. And who can blame you for an accident, right?”

“You mean… Max will be able to forgive and forget?”

“I talked to Max, and he’s already forgiven you, and he probably would have forgotten about it, too, if you didn’t keep reminding him.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, taking all this in. It was some really heady stuff, he thought, all this talk of forgiving and forgetting. “You know, Gran, I think that maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Have you ever known me not to be right?”

He preferred not to answer that, but instead said,“You see, Brutus did the exact same thing as me. He also had an accident. Or in fact he had six accidents.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he just confessed that he peed in all of our bowls on six separate occasions, and now Harriet is very angry with him, because Brutus asked me to tell Harriet that it had in fact been me who’d been peeing in her bowl, but since Max had already told her it had been him, now she’s even more angry than before.”

Gran chuckled at this for a reason that Dooley couldn’t quite comprehend, but then he already knew from extensive experience that sometimes humans laughed at different things than cats, and that was all right with him.

“Looks like I’ll have to have a word with Harriet too,” she said. “Though I think I’ll wait until she’s cooled down some.”

“So you think Max isn’t angry with me anymore?”

“Sweetie, Max was never angry with you to begin with.”

“Oh,” he said, and a warm glow suddenly expanded right across his chest. “That’s a big relief, Gran. That means I can probably start drinking water again.”

“What do you mean, you silly cat?” she cried. “You haven’t stopped drinking because of this thing, have you?” He gave her a sheepish look, and she laughed again. “Here, take this,” she said, and handed him her glass of water. “And I want to see you drink, you hear?”

So he drank, and then drank some more, and when the glass was half empty, Gran urged him to drink even more, and so he did.

It tasted good. And he was almost sure there was no pee involved this time. At least that’s what he hoped.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

I was just about to head on out to cat choir when Odelia stopped me in my tracks.“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Where are you going?”

“Cat choir.”

“There’s a dangerous cat killer out there, Max, so I want you to stay inside tonight—and every other night until this guy is caught.”

“But it’s cat choir. I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

And then I gave her the kind of look only cats can muster. It requires a lot of practice, but I think I must have nailed it, for she said,“Oh, don’t give me that puss-in-boots look, you.”

“But it’s cat choir,” I said imploringly. “I want to go see my friends.”

“All right,” she said finally. “But on one condition and one condition only.”

“Anything,” I said.

Oh, boy. I probably shouldn’t have said that.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“Is he really going to follow us around everywhere we go from now on?” asked Harriet annoyedly.

“Yeah, that’s the condition,” I said.

We all glanced back at Chase, who was following us from a safe distance. He looked as annoyed as Harriet, or maybe even more so.

Odelia had told us not to engage with Chase, as he was going to try and catch this cat killer in the act, and so we had to lure the killer out so Chase could catch him unawares.

“I’m not sure Shanille will like this,” said Brutus. “She usually doesn’t allow humans.”

He was right. Cats usually don’t allow humans at their secret gatherings, and so Chase was in for a surprise: he would be the first human ever to attend cat choir. Not that the cop was looking forward to it, judging from the sour expression on his face.

“Why is he keeping his head down like that?” asked Dooley.

“Because he doesn’t want to be seen by the cat killer,” said Brutus.

“Or his colleagues,” I ventured. Odelia had told me Chase felt very nervous about being spotted by his colleagues whilst on cat guard duty. He apparently found it beneath himself, a homicide cop, to have to guard his girlfriend’s four cats. And he was afraid that if his colleagues caught him at it, they would start rolling around on the floor laughing.

He probably had a point.

“I think it’s going to be fun,” said Brutus. “Chase could even join in with the singing.”

“If you think this is going to be fun you’ve got another thing coming, Brutus,” said Harriet, who clearly hadn’t forgiven her mate. “Or you, Max. Or even you, Dooley.”

“What did I do?” asked Dooley, surprised.

“You lied to me—Brutus asked you to lie and so you did. And now I’m never going to be able to trust you again. Ever.”

“But why?” asked Dooley.

“Because you lied!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You said it was you who peed in my bowl and it wasn’t.”

“But I was only trying to help Brutus.”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with a sigh. “Okay, so maybe I can forgive you. After all, you are a very naive cat, and I can see you meant no harm. But you, Max, I will never forgive.”

“I was only trying to stop you guys from breaking up,” I argued. “I hate it when you fight, and so I figured I might as well give it a shot.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have. In fact I want you to promise me you’ll never interfere in my love life again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Harriet,” I said dutifully.

“Fine. Okay, so I can forgive you, too, Max, for you were only trying to help. But you, Brutus, I will never, ever be able to forgive you—ever! Is that understood?”

“But it was an accident,” argued the butch black cat.

“Six times is no accident, Brutus. In fact I’m starting to think you did it on purpose.”

“Why would I pee in your bowl on purpose?”

“I don’t know—because you’re weird like that?”

“I’m not weird like that!”

“Well, obviously you are, or else you wouldn’t have peed in my bowl—six times!”

I decided to leave Harriet and Brutus at it. Frankly I wasn’t all that keen on being in the middle of this lovers’ tiff anymore, and I already regretted having interfered.

And as Harriet and Brutus went this way, I decided to take the long way to the park, Dooley in my wake.

But that obviously didn’t sit well with Chase, who immediately came jogging up behind us and bodily picked us both up, then set us down again next to Harriet and Brutus, who hadn’t stopped arguing and hadn’t even noticed we’d briefly left.

“You guys have to stay together,” growled Chase. “Odelia’s orders.”

Oh, darn it. And to think I thought having a human bodyguard would be fun. Clearly I’d been mistaken. And the worst part? We couldn’t even talk to the guy!

Chapter 17

When Chase had accepted the assignment he’d known it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, and now that he was walking in the park, trailing four cats on their way to something called ‘cat choir,’ he was already feeling the strain.

As a rule he was more of a dog person, though he’d come to like and appreciate his girlfriend’s cats in the time he’d spent with them. But still. Having to spend the night looking after four felines while they gathered with dozens of other felines in a park?

Not exactly his idea of a good time!

And so when he finally reached the playground, he was surprised to find that there were so many more cats than he’d anticipated. There were cats all over that jungle gym, cats in the sandbox, cats on the swing, cats on the seesaw and cats on the slide. In fact there were cats everywhere he looked, and they all seemed to be looking at him, too.

And then there was the meowing. Oh, dear Lord, there was so much meowing going on, and mewling, and mewing, and even caterwauling.

It was frankly a little disconcerting to realize that there existed this entire cat population in Hampton Cove that he hadn’t fully been aware of until now.

Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus seemed a lot more relaxed about the prospect of encountering this many felines than he was: they mingled with the others, and soon he couldn’t even make out where they’d gone off to. They’d disappeared in a sea of fur.

So he simply took a seat on one of the benches placed there for the moms and dads watching their kids play, and thought that any would-be cat killer would have to be seriously suicidal to try and attack the cats on their own turf, where they were clearly in the majority, and would stand no nonsense.

His phone chimed and he picked it out of his pocket.“Hey, babe,” he said.

“And? How are you holding up, Mr. Catsitter?”

“Frankly, babe? I don’t think your cats need a catsitter at all. There’s so many cats here this cat killer would have to be absolutely crazy to try and attack them.”

“I still appreciate you watching out for them. Oh, and watch out for the…”

Just at that moment the caterwauling had reached a crescendo, and he couldn’t make out what Odelia was saying. It sounded a lot like ‘shoes,’ which of course was just nuts.

But just then, completely out of the blue, a shoe struck him in the head, and he grunted with dismay. The shoe dropped into his lap and he saw that it was an old shoe, and a sturdy one, too.

“What the…” he muttered as he picked it up and studied it. And that’s when a second shoe hit him in the chest. “Oh, for crying out loud!” he said, and got up, glancing around. And then he saw it: in one of the houses facing the park the lights had come on, and an irate citizen was screaming, “Damn cats with your damn screaming every damn night!”

Yep. This was going to be a looooong night.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Poor Chase was being pummeled by one of our regulars. There are people in this world who appreciate art, and then there are the cultural barbarians, who hate it. And it was just our rotten luck that the park where we like to practice our art is surrounded by these cultural barbarians, who choose to express their disapproval of our nocturnal activities by throwing shoes and other objects in our direction.

I’ve long since passed the moment where I truly care about this peculiar human habit, but obviously Chase, being subjected to this abuse for the very first time, was shocked to be on the receiving end of several items of footwear.

Although in actual fact it had happened before, and in our own backyard, no less, where our next-door neighbor Kurt Mayfield is also a very avid shoe thrower.

Chase now stood shaking his fist at the irate homeowners who stood shaking their fists at us. All in all, the cop wasn’t having a good time, I could tell. And I felt for him.

“Maybe we should tell Odelia to call off this guard duty thing,” I suggested now.

“But what if the cat killer strikes again?” said Dooley. “I feel much safer knowing Chase is right there keeping an eye on us, Max.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I felt much safer, too.

“I think Chase should do this all the time,” said Harriet. “I’ve always wanted my own bodyguard. Makes me feel like a real star. Like Kim Kardashian or Gwyneth Paltrow.”

I’m not sure Chase would enjoy the prospect of being reduced to mere guard duty, on the same level as Kim or Gwyneth’s bodyguards, but then the man couldn’t understand what we said, so it wasn’t as if he’d ever know.

“I think it’s great,” said Brutus. “And in fact I think this guard duty should probably be expanded. No man can guard us twenty-four-seven hours all by his lonesome. It takes at least two guards to do the job the way it’s supposed to be done. Or maybe even four, as no guard worth his or her salt likes to do this alone. Two teams of two guards is what this job requires, and so I’m going to tell Odelia she should recruit three more cops.”

“I doubt whether Uncle Alec will agree,” I said. “His cops probably have more important things to do than to guard Odelia’s cats all the time.”

“What could be more important than making sure that we’re safe?” asked Harriet, and I had the impression the question was a rhetorical one, so I didn’t answer.

Kingman, who’s one of our best friends and also our local cat population’s unofficial mayor, came waddling over. He’s a very large cat, and contrary to myself doesn’t have his big bones to blame for his sizable form.

“What’s your human doing here?” he asked, casting curious glances at Chase, who’d taken a seat on his bench again, but was eyeing the shoe thrower with a kindling eye.

“We were in the attic this morning and then we were locked up inside a box and then the box was set on fire with us still in it, and even though we did a lot of spitting and licking that didn’t help,” said Dooley, causing Kingman to frown and turn to me.

“What is he talking about?”

“A cat killer attacked us this morning,” I said. “He tried to set us on fire.”

“Oh, my God. And how did you survive?”

I told him the whole story, and Kingman was properly impressed.

“So Odelia assigned us a bodyguard,” said Harriet proudly. “And soon she’ll probably assign us a couple more. We are VICs, after all.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but what is a VIC?” asked Kingman.

“A Very Important Cat,” said Harriet, then walked off to socialize with her friends.

“Odelia is also going to organize training for us,” I said. “Like dog training?”

Kingman made a face.“That doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. Better you than me, Max.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly looking forward to it either,” I confessed.

“You know what you should do? Hire a watchcat instead of this human of yours.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dooley.

“You know, like a watchdog, but a feline one.”

“I didn’t even know watchcats existed.”

“Oh, sure.” He glanced at Chase again. “You better give it some thought. I mean, it’s really awkward for a cat to be guarded by a human. Not dignified.”

I saw what he meant. Cats are the kind of pets that are known far and wide for being able to take care of themselves. We’ve never needed a human to take care of us before, and it frankly was humiliating to have Chase tagging along wherever we went.

“That’s so kind of you, Kingman,” said Dooley. “You would really be our watchcat? Guard us with your life?”

“Me? Are you nuts? I was thinking of Clarice. She’s easily Hampton Cove’s toughest cat—her reputation precedes her. I’ll bet that if she took you under her paw, no cat killer would dare to come near you again.”

“Clarice would never take the job,” said Brutus.

“Why not? Everyone can be bought, Brutus, even Clarice.”

But Brutus was shaking his head.“Not Clarice. She’s a free cat, and would never accept payment in exchange for her services.”

“Look, my human has just managed to land himself a date with the most gorgeous female I’ve ever seen. And why do you think that is? Because Wilbur owns a business, and even gorgeous females are susceptible to the siren song of the good old moolah.”

We all stared at the big cat in shock. Wilbur Vickery isn’t exactly Hampton Cove’s most eligible bachelor. In fact he’s probably our town most ineligible bachelor. And to think that he managed to snag a date with a woman was… surprising, to say the least.

“Just ask her,” Kingman suggested. “I’m sure you’ll be able to come to some sort of an understanding.”

It was an avenue worth pursuing I had to agree. Clarice is a feral cat, and as such probably the most intimidating cat in all of Hampton Cove. If she were to guard us around the clock, no wannabe cat killer would get close to us ever again.

“All right,” I said therefore. “It’s worth a shot.”

“She’ll never do it,” Brutus insisted. “Never.”

“Maybe if we ask her nicely?” Dooley suggested.

“Mark my words,” said Brutus. “She’ll laugh in your face, Max.”

Just then, Chase came wandering over, clearly bored after having spent the past half hour on that hard wooden bench.“Just out of curiosity, Max,” said the cop. “How long do these recitals usually go on for?”

I smiled up at the cop, and held up three digits.

He groaned.“Three hours? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I shook my head. Nope. I wasn’t kidding.

“See?” said Kingman. “You need a cat to watch your back. Only a cat can endure cat choir without wanting to jump off a bridge.”

And with a loud guffaw, he waddled off again.

“Poor Chase,” said Dooley. “He looks very unhappy, doesn’t he, Max?”

“Yeah, he does. Maybe Kingman is right. Guarding cats is not a human’s job.”

We all watched as Chase slouched back to his bench, looking distinctly unhappy with the fate life had dealt him.

And so I swore that tomorrow I’d look up Clarice and offer her a deal. Free kibble for life and free fresh water.

And now I just had to convince Brutus not to pee in Clarice’s bowl.

Or any bowl, for that matter.

Chapter 18

“This is pretty pointless if you ask me,” said Scarlett.

“Nobody asked you so be quiet,” riposted Vesta.

“I think Scarlett is right,” said Father Reilly. “Just driving around like this doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

“Driving around like this keeps the bad guys away,” said Vesta.

“I don’t see any bad guys,” said Wilbur Vickery. “Do you see any bad guys, Francis?”

“No, I don’t,” said Father Reilly, craning his neck as he glanced around.

“That’s because we’re patrolling,” said Vesta. “If we weren’t patrolling these streets they’d be crawling with bad guys. It’s just like the light in the fridge, see.”

“The light in the fridge?” asked Scarlett, looking at her as if she’d just lost her mind.

“You don’t see the light going out in the fridge, do you? Because the light only goes out when you close the door, and when you open the door to look, it flashes on again. And then when you close the door, it goes out—BUT YOU DON’T KNOW IT GOES OUT!”

Vesta’s fellow watch members were quiet for a moment, as they considered this intriguing piece of information, then Father Reilly said, “So in this comparison, the bad guys are the light in the fridge? Or the bad guys are the lack of light in the fridge?”

“Oh, who cares!” said Vesta as she took a turn. They were cruising along the quiet and deserted streets of their neighborhood in her little red Peugeot, and she suddenly wished she’d be able to buy the watch a proper car, just like she’d already told Scarlett about a million times. A nice big car. A van or maybe even one of them fancy Escalades. A car that made the bad guys quake in their boots when they saw them coming.

Father Reilly yawned.“How long do you want to keep doing this, Vesta? I need to get up early. I have a sermon to write.”

“So you actually write your own sermons?” asked Scarlett. “I always thought you made those up on the spot.”

“No, I write all of my sermons,” said the priest, a little stung by this comment. “And it’s hard work, too, as I have to insert small passages from the Scriptures.”

“Just download that stuff from the internet,” grunted Wilbur. “Plenty of sermons there.”

“I am not going to download my sermons off the internet,” said Father Reilly. “My parishioners—”

“Your parishioners would never know the difference,” argued the shopkeeper.

“Well, I beg to differ,” said the father a little haughtily.

“Look,” said Vesta suddenly as she pointed at a nearby shrub.

“Buxus Semptervirens,” said Father Reilly, nodding appreciatively. “Also known as Boxwood. I instructed the church gardener to plant it in our church garden. A very hardy plant. It likes its soil to be kept moist but—”

“I’m not talking about the plant, you old fool,” said Vesta. “I’m talking about the guy hiding behind it!”

They all stared intently at the Boxwood now, and lo and behold, suddenly a face emerged from behind the shapely shrub, lit up by the high beam of Vesta’s aged little car.

“Let’s go get him!” Scarlett cried excitedly.

So the members of the watch all got out of the car and descended upon the scene, eager to bag their first bad guy for the night.

Vesta had taken her deceased ex-husband’s old shotgun from the garden shed, Scarlett was carrying a stun gun, Father Reilly had brought a billy club, and Wilbur? He’d brought along the baseball bat he liked to keep next to the cash register at the store.

The hoodlum, when they approached him, didn’t even attempt to make a run for it. Instead he simply cowered in fear and cried, “Please don’t hurt me. You can take everything I have but please don’t hurt me—I have a wife and kids—and a dog!”

Vesta frowned at the man.“Ted? What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

For it was indeed Ted Trapper, her very own neighbor.

“Vesta? Is that you?” the mild-mannered accountant asked, his voice betraying his extreme elation. “I thought you were a couple of gangsters eager to hit on me.”

“We’re not gangsters, Ted,” said Scarlett. “We’re your neighborhood watch, here to protect you from harm. Make sure you feel safe at all times.”

Ted, who didn’t look like he felt safe at all, nodded a few times in quick succession. “Oh, hello, Father Reilly—I hadn’t seen you there. Wilbur.”

“Hello, Ted,” said Father Reilly warmly. “We’re very sorry for scaring you like that.”

“It’s fine,” said Ted, getting up with a little help from the good priest. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I might as well take Rufus for a walk.” He gestured to the shrub, where his big sheepdog Rufus now came peeping out—he looked as terrified as his owner.

“Great watchdog you’ve got there, Ted,” said Wilbur with a grin.

“Yeah, Rufus isn’t exactly the world’s greatest hero,” said Ted as he called his dog to him and Rufus now reluctantly appeared. He sniffed Vesta’s hand, then in turn sniffed Father Reilly, Wilbur and Scarlett, before sinking down onto his haunches, his tail happily wagging and giving an excited bark. The watch had been vetted and approved.

“What a waste of time,” said Vesta once they were back inside the vehicle and cruising those Hampton Cove mean streets once more. “That’s what I mean about getting ourselves some designated wheels for the watch. Then when people see us coming they’ll know it’s us and wouldn’t feel theneed to go and hide in the bushes.”

“And who’s going to pay for this designated set of wheels?” asked Scarlett.

“Not me,” said Wilbur. As a Main Street shopkeeper he was being solicited for all kinds of projects all the time, and he’d long ago learned always to say no, lest his meager profit margins were eroded even more.

“And not me, either,” said Father Reilly when all eyes turned to him. “Contrary to what you might think being a local church leader isn’t the road to riches.”

“Yeah, and my pension doesn’t stretch that far either,” said Scarlett.

“I thought you were going to ask your son for one of his squad cars?” said Wilbur.

“I asked and he said no,” said Vesta. “Says cop cars are for cops only. Silly rule.”

They were silent for a moment, as the Peugeot’s ancient engine cozily prattled on.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea!” Vesta suddenly exclaimed as she slapped the steering wheel.

“Uh-oh,” said Scarlett, earning herself a nasty glance from her friend.

“Why don’t we ask my son’s new girlfriend?”

“Charlene? And why would the Mayor buy us a new car?”

“Because we’re doing her a big favor, that’s why. We’re keeping her streets safe.”

“Local government nowadays doesn’t have any money to spare, I’m afraid,” said Father Reilly with a sad shake of the head. “I asked the Mayor for money for a new church roof and she turned me down. Said I should ask my parishioners to chip in.”

“That’s it!” Vesta cried. “We’ll start one of ‘em online collections! Gofungus!”

“I think it’s called Gofundus,” said the priest with an indulgent smile.

“Go FundMe,” Wilbur corrected him. “We did one last year for my mom’s new hip. We got enough for three hips, so my sister used the money for a new boob job instead.”

“Do you really think people are going to give money for a new car for the watch?” asked Scarlett dubiously.

“Of course! Who doesn’t like to live in a safe neighborhood? I’ll get on it tomorrow morning first thing. And if we’re not driving around in a fancy big Escalade this time next week I’ll eat my hat.”

“You don’t have a hat,” Wilbur pointed out.

“Then I’ll eat your hat! Or Father Reilly’s!”

“You can eat my hat,” said Scarlett. “I was thinking of buying myself a new one anyway.”

“Wise-ass,” said Vesta with a grin, and suddenly the mood in the car was uplifted to such a degree that for the rest of their patrol, a pleasant atmosphere reigned, and Father Reilly didn’t even bring up the delicate and intricate art of sermon-writing again.

Chapter 19

“Look, I don’t want him here, all right?”

“But, honey!”

“No, you listen to me. How do you even know he’s yours?”

A smile appeared on Marge’s husband’s face. “I just know he is. Besides, he looks exactly like me, doesn’t he? He’s my spitting image.”

“No, he doesn’t. He looks nothing like you.”

They were in their bedroom, conducting a whispered conversation, which was outrageous enough if you thought about it: there they were, in their own house, having to whisper because suddenly Tex had gotten it into his nut to invite a complete stranger into their home—a complete stranger who claimed, without evidence, that he was his son!

“I didn’t even know you dated Jaqlyn Checkers. You never told me!”

“I’ve been trying to remember. Before Dudley showed up I hadn’t thought about Jaqlyn for over thirty years. I even had to look up her picture. And as far as I can remember we never really dated. We went out a couple of times, before she dumped me for Timothy Gass, who had really nice hair back in the day. And of course he had a car.”

“But you do remember getting her pregnant,” Marge said acerbically.

“No! I didn’t think we ever got… that far.” He blushed a little as he said it. “And she definitely never said anything about being pregnant. Though I seem to remember now that she dropped out of school the last semester of high school. The story back then was that her dad had gotten a post as ambassador to Italy. I hadn’t even been aware he was a diplomat. Then again, I guess anyone can be an ambassador if they know the right people.”

“She never told you about the baby?”

Tex shook his head. On his lap were their old photo albums, which he’d taken into his son’s room so he could show him a little more about the family he’d suddenly found himself to be a member of.

“I find it very hard to believe you made this girl pregnant and you can’t even remember, Tex. You weren’t exactly the school Adonis back in the day.”

“All I remember is that we fumbled around a little on the backseat of her dad’s Volvo one night. Like I said, I don’t remember going that far, but apparently we must have.”

“Oh, Tex,” said Marge. “For a doctor you’re hopelessly clueless sometimes.”

“Obviously I must have had relations with the woman, otherwise Dudley wouldn’t have been born.” He smiled. “I always wanted a son. I love Odelia, but a son is… special.”

She gave him a dirty look which he totally didn’t catch and folded her arms across her chest, giving herself up to dark thoughts about her husband and men in general. Why was it they all considered a son their highest goal?

“Dudley wants to be a doctor, you know,” said Tex, with a beatific smile on his face. “Or at least he always wanted to be a doctor but his mom couldn’t afford the tuition so he never pursued his dream. Maybe he still can. With a little help from his dear old dad.”

“Oh, Tex!” Marge cried, and swung her feet from the bed. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room with this man anymore.

“What did I say?” asked her husband dumbly.

But she was already stalking out of the room and then she was stomping down the stairs and into the kitchen. And she’d just taken the milk from the fridge so she could warm up a glass, when suddenly she became aware of a noise nearby and slammed the fridge door shut, only to be faced with… Dudley, staring at her intently!

“D-Dudley,” she stuttered, much surprised. “You startled me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Poole,” said Dudley in that obsequious and overly polite way of his. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just had one of those midnight cravings, you know.” He smiled and gestured to the bottle of milk in her hand. “Like you, I guess.”

“Yeah, I-I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well have a glass of warm milk.”

“My mom used to drink warm milk before going to bed,” said Dudley as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “With a spoon of honey and some nutmeg. Always did the trick. Even when she was sick, she used to ask me for a glass of warm milk.” His smile faltered and Marge suddenly felt bad for talking about the kid behind his back. He clearly had been through a terrible time with his mother dying from cancer.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been really hard on you. To lose your mom like that.”

“It was,” he said, then his smile returned. “That’s why I’m so happy to have found Tex—and you, Mrs. Poole. A new start for me. A new chance at happiness.”

She nodded, and poured some milk in a pan and put it on the stove then pressed the designated spot on the ceramic cooktop to turn up the heat. The cooktop instantly glowed hot.

“I can’t wait to get to know you better, Mrs. Poole,” said Dudley as he dragged a casual hand through his neat blond do. “You, my dad, Vesta… and Odelia, of course—my sister.”

“You can call me Marge, Dudley,” she said as she took two cups from the cupboard.

“Thanks, Marge.”

“Did your mother never mention Tex before?”

Dudley shook his head.“No, and she was very sorry that she hadn’t. At the end she said she wished she’d been more honest with me. I could have had a real father in my life much sooner. Which is why I’m so happy that you invited me to stay. This way I can make up for lost time.”

“That’s nice,” Marge muttered vaguely.

“You know what? Maybe we can all do something together tomorrow. Like… going to the beach? Or see a movie together as a family?”

Marge made a noncommittal noise. She wasn’t really ready for family trips with this kid yet, but couldn’t exactly come right out and tell him so.

She poured the milk into the cups and handed him one.

“If the death of my mother taught me one thing, it’s that you have to enjoy every day as if it’s the last one. Spend time with your family while you can, for you never know when it will be over. And it can all be over like that.” He snapped his fingers, startling her.

She put a hand on her heart and laughed.“I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little on edge.”

“And why is that, Marge?” he asked, leaning closer until they were almost face to face. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No–no, of course not.”

“I mean, I can see how this might look to you: your husband inviting a stranger into your home. Who knows where I’ve been—what I’ve been up to, you know?”

She stared at him. There was a strange glow in the kid’s eyes. A glow she didn’t know how to interpret. It was almost… menacing.

But then he flashed that engaging smile again, and said,“I’m off to bed, Marge. I hope you have a nice evening.”

“Yeah. You, too,” she said, and returned his smile. But as soon as he was gone, her smile faltered, and she wondered who this kid was.

Chapter 20

“I find that very hard to believe, honey. Tex? Owner of a plot of land on Grover’s Point?”

“That’s what those developers told me. And if he doesn’t sell them his little piece of land they can’t proceed with their plans to build that mall.”

“The Charlene Butterwick Mall,” Alec said with a grin.

“The Butterwick Mall,” she corrected him, and playfully tapped him on the nose. They were in bed, the television softly playing in a corner of the room, and talking about how their day had been.

Both Charlene and Alec had a habit of going to bed late, and getting up early. Hard-working professionals, both of them, they didn’t get a lot of sleep during the week.

“I’ll have to ask him,” said Alec. “But it would surprise me that my sister and her husband would have bought a piece of land without telling me.”

“Maybe it belonged to Tex’s parents?” Charlene suggested.

“Could be,” he allowed. “But that still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t want to sell. Unless they’re not offering him enough.”

“Oh, they’re offering him plenty. In fact he can pretty much ask what he wants at this stage.”

“So you’ve decided then? The mall is happening?”

“It’s not up to me,” she said, lying back against her fluffed-up pillow. “I’ve asked for a special council meeting to discuss the matter. I hope the other council members will offer some good feedback. And of course all kinds of studies will need to be done. Environmental impact report, social assessment… Then the Planning and Zoning Commission will take a whack at it, we’ll set up meetings with the local community…”

“But the final decision is up to you?”

“As the Mayor my opinion carries a certain weight, sure.”

He shook his head.“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. Tough decision to make. If you say yes to the mall, shopkeepers and small business owners will be up in arms, and if you say no, plenty of locals will claim you’re standing in the way of progress.”

“Yeah, I know. Either way it won’t be easy.” She patted his big belly. “But let’s not talk about work, shall we? I get enough of that at the office. When I’m home with you I want to do other things.” And she wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully.

Alec grinned.“Oh, honey, I thought you’d never ask.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

We were returning from cat choir, Chase in tow, when suddenly the burly cop grunted,“Hang on a moment,” and strode out in front of us, taking on a vigilant stance and glancing this way and that, as if he’d suddenly become aware of nefarious activities.

“What is it, Max?” asked Dooley, concern lacing his voice.

“I don’t know, Dooley,” I said. “But it looks like Chase has seen or heard something.”

Which would frankly surprise me, as the ears of a cat are usually a lot better at picking up signs of danger than human ears. Then again, Chase is no ordinary human. He’s a cop who used to be in the NYPD, one of the country’s better-trained police forces.

“I think it’s the cat killer,” said Brutus as we all anxiously followed Chase’s every move. He was rooting through the bushes lining the sidewalk now, as if trying to catch whoever was lurking there, intent on causing us harm.

“I’m so glad Odelia asked Chase to be our bodyguard,” said Harriet. “Life is so much harder without your own personal bodyguard. In fact I think I’ll ask her to put Chase in charge of my bodyguard detail on a full-time basis from now on.”

“Chase has a day job, Harriet,” I pointed out. “You can’t expect him to guard us day and night.”

“Oh, yes, I can. And I’m sure he’d do it, too. He’s Odelia’s boyfriend, after all, so he has to do what she says.”

“Um… it’s not the job of a boyfriend to do everything his girlfriend says,” I pointed out.

“Yes, it is,” said Harriet, wide-eyed at my lack of understanding. “Of course it is.”

“No, it isn’t. Being a boyfriend isn’t like being at someone’s every beck and call, Harriet.”

“Yes, it is,” she said. “Isn’t that right, twinkle toes?”

“Um…” said Brutus. Clearly he hadn’t read the fine print when he’d signed up for boyfriend duty, for he looked a little stunned at Harriet’s interpretation of the tasks of a boyfriend.

“Look, I’m a princess, Max,” said Harriet, deciding to put me straight once and for all. “And every princess has a prince to look after her. And it’s the prince’s duty, but also his honor and his pleasure, to take care of his princess. Simple.”

“I very much doubt whether Chase would agree with you,” I said. “Or Odelia, for that matter.”

“Oh, of course they agree with me. Everybody knows this, Max, except you, of course. Which is probably why you’ve never been able to find yourself a girlfriend.”

I let the words hang in the air for a moment before replying.“I don’t have a girlfriend because I haven’t met the right one yet,” I said. “Not because I’m not willing to enter into indentured servitude, like you seem to expect from your boyfriends.”

“Oh, Max,” she said with a little sigh. “You just don’t get it, do you? And I’m starting to believe that you never will. Please explain it to him, Brutus. Or you know what? Maybe don’t bother. He won’t understand. Some cats never do.”

And with these words, she turned away from me, as if the mere act of talking to me had drained her.

Well, it certainly made me tired arguing with her, let me tell you. But luckily at that moment Chase returned from his sojourn in the bushes, and said,“All clear! Move out!”

And so move out we did, like the obedient little platoon we were.

This time Chase led the way, Brutus and Harriet right behind him, and Dooley and I picking up the rear.

“Do you think Harriet is right, Max?” asked Dooley. “That the reason we don’t have a girlfriend is because we don’t understand girls and we never will?”

“No, I don’t think Harriet is right at all, Dooley. The purpose of a boyfriend is not to cater to his girlfriend’s every whim. At its core a relationship should be built on friendship, love and trust, not servitude, like Harriet seems to think.”

“Okay,” said Dooley, thinking hard about my words. “But when you love someone, you’re willing to do everything for them, right?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“So maybe that’s what Harriet means?”

I hadn’t looked at it that way, but it seemed highly unlikely. Then again, I frankly had enough on my mind with this cat killer hanging around, and since I didn’t want to get drawn into another fight with Harriet, I decided simply to drop the whole thing, and pretend the discussion had never even taken place.

Chapter 21

When we finally arrived home we were met by Odelia, standing in the door. Next to her was… a dog.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“That, my friend,” said Brutus with a grin, “is what is commonly known as a dog. And in case you don’t know what a dog is—a dog is a member of the canine species and…”

“I know what a dog is, Brutus. But what is it doing here?”

When we approached, Odelia waved at us and said,“I’m so glad you guys are all right.”

“Of course they’re all right, babe,” said Chase, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “They’ve got the best cat bodyguard for miles around. Also the only cat bodyguard for miles around,” he added a little ruefully.

“How did it go?” asked Odelia.

“Fine—if you can call a bunch of cats caterwauling all night fine.”

She now crouched down and petted the big dog on the head. He was a dog of the Bulldog variety and was big and round and had one of those smushed-up faces that made it hard to know what he was thinking. His eyes were hooded, and saliva was dripping from twin pouches next to what I assumed was his mouth. He looked like someone had attempted to create a dog but hadn’t entirely succeeded.

“Look, you guys,” said Odelia. “Your knight in shining armor has arrived.”

We all stared at her, then at the dog, not quite catching her drift.

“Rambo will be your guard dog from now on,” she said. “I’ve got him on loan from the K9 squad. He’s actually retired now, but still does odd jobs for them from time to time. In fact he’s pretty much the K9 unit’s mascot, so please be nice to him, all right?”

The dog, who hadn’t spoken, now opened his mouth for the first time. I half expected more saliva to come pouring out, having been pooling up inside his mouth, but instead he said, in a deep rumbling voice, “Hi, cats.”