Purrfect Cover. Purrfect Patsy. Purrfect Son

“Hi… you,” I said by way of greeting.

This was too much. A dog? Guarding cats? No way!

“Hi, Rambo,” said Dooley, stepping to the fore. “Welcome to our humble home.”

“Thanks, bud,” said Rambo, not exactly conveying a wealth of emotion.

“This was my idea, you know,” said Dooley proudly, and I gawked at him.

“Your idea!”

“Yeah, I thought a guard dog would make sure we don’t get locked up and set on fire again.”

“But… I thought you said we were going to get trained,” I said to Odelia. “Like dogs!”

“No, I said I was going to get you a trained dog to look after you. And here he is. Yay!”

“Oh, dear Lord,” I said. As if it wasn’t enough to be guarded by a human, now Odelia had to add a dog to the mix?

“I’m a great guard dog,” said the dog. “I used to guard the president when he was in town.”

“The president was in town?” I asked. “When was this? I must have missed it.”

“What did he say?” asked Odelia, who can talk to cats, but unfortunately her abilities don’t extend to dogs.

“He says he used to guard the president when he was in town.”

“Oh, he probably means one of the former presidents,” said Odelia.

“A former president!” I said. “How old are you!”

“Old,” said the dog. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my bark.” And to show us he meant what he said, he barked. Once.

Oh, dear. This was a disaster, wasn’t it?

We all filed into the house, and soon Harriet and Brutus made themselves scarce, disappearing into the house next door. Dooley and I moved up the stairs and hopped onto the bed, waiting for Chase and Odelia to join us, and before I knew what was happening, suddenly a minor earthquake made the bed tremble and shake!

It was Rambo, making the great leap and following in our pawsteps.

And so when Odelia and Chase finally emerged, they found their bed bedecked not with holly, but with two members of the feline species and one, very large, drooling dog.

“I think we’re going to need a bigger bed,” said Chase, surveying the scene.

Somehow they managed to squeeze in, and soon Rambo was snoring away, showing us what a great guard dog he really was.

“I hope it wasn’t too horrible?” said Odelia, addressing her boyfriend, not us.

“It was okay. I got hit with shoes all night, but apart from that it was all good.”

“Oh, no. My poor baby.”

“Poor cats. They have to go through this kind of thing all the time, I imagine.”

“So many people out there who don’t appreciate cats. I don’t know what’s going on with the world.”

I could have told her: a distinct lack of aesthetic refinement. But I was on the verge of falling asleep, so I didn’t bother.

“So now you have a brother, huh?” said Chase. “How does that feel?”

“I’m not sure. I guess it will take some getting used to.”

“He seems like a great kid.”

“Yeah, he seems really nice.”

“Do you think he’ll move in next door permanently?”

“I don’t know. Mom doesn’t seem all that happy with this new arrangement.”

“I can imagine. It must have come as a great shock to her to discover that her husband fathered a son with another woman.”

“Yeah, I better have a talk with her tomorrow. See how she’s holding up.”

They both lapsed into silence, then, and soon only soft snores could be heard—the snores of one woman (cute little snores), one male (as if he were trying to cut through a tree trunk), one canine (wet slobbering snores), and two felines (I can’t tell you how that sounded because that’s when I fell asleep).

Chapter 22

“Max?”

“Mh?”

“Are you sure you told Rambo not to use our water bowls?”

We were staring at our water bowls, which were now absolutely devoid of water, but consisted instead of a generous helping of slobber. The same could be said for our kibble bowls, which had expertly been relieved of their contents, only traces of slop left. In fact all of the bowls were now empty, and the copious amounts of slop and slobber left no doubt as to the identity of the midnight marauder who’d performed this impressive feat.

“Odelia!” I bellowed. If there’s one thing I’m very sensitive about it’s of other pets eating my portion of kibble.

Odelia came staggering down the stairs, wearing an oversized sweater that clearly belonged to Chase, as it said‘I-heart-NYPD’ and was rubbing her eyes. “What is it?” she murmured as she took a right turn into the kitchen, and almost slipped on a pool of drool. “Eek!” she said, lifting one bare foot to see what had attached itself there.

“It’s Rambo,” I announced. “He’s eaten all of our food.”

“And drunk all of our water,” Dooley added helpfully.

“And replaced same with a goodish pile of goo.”

“Rambo!” said Odelia, then thunked her brow. “I totally forgot. Chase took him out for his morning walk.”

“His morning walk?” I said. You must forgive me for not being better acquainted with the ways of the canine species. I’ve never lived with a dog before, you see, so this was definitely a first in every sense.

“Dogs go for a walk in the morning, Max,” she explained. “That’s how they get rid of their morning… doo-doo and wee-wee.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling silly. “Of course. I knew that.”

Odelia stared down at the mess the old dog had made on the kitchen floor—and our neat row of bowls. “I gave him his own bowl of dog kibble,” she said, pointing to a giant bowl that was, of course, empty. “Clearly it wasn’t enough.”

“He’s a very large dog,” I said. “He probably eats a lot.”

“Maybe we should have a talk with him,” Dooley suggested. “Teach him about the difference between mine and thine.”

“Excellent idea, Dooley,” I said. “I’m sure it was a simple misunderstanding that made him eat all of our food, and drink all of our water, too.”

And since Odelia was going to be busy washing out our bowls—and scrubbing the kitchen floor—Dooley suggested we move next door for our first meal of the day.

We ambled into the backyard, then through the hedge and then in through the pet flap and into Marge and Tex’s kitchen. When we arrived there we found Brutus and Harriet staring at their respective bowls, a look of distress on their faces.

“Someone ate all of our food,” said Brutus.

“And drank all of our water,” said Harriet.

“And left some kind of slime behind.”

“I think it might have been aliens.”

“Or ghosts,” Brutus ventured. “Ghosts are always leaving some kind of slimy residue behind. It’s called ectoplasm. That’s how you can tell you’ve got ghosts.”

“I can assure you it wasn’t ghosts, and it wasn’t aliens,” I said.

“It was Rambo,” Dooley said as he inspected his own bowl and sadly had to come to the conclusion that here, too, Rambo had eaten his fill, and had left nothing for us.

“Rambo did all this?” asked Harriet. “But that’s impossible. No dog can possibly eat this much.”

“He ate all the food next door, too,” I said. “And if he’d had a third home to sneak into, I’m sure he’d have emptied the bowls there, too.”

“This is too much!” said Harriet. “First Odelia hires a dog—a dog!—to guard us, and then the silly mutt eats all of our food!”

“At least he didn’t pee in our bowls,” I said with a pointed glance at Brutus. I still hadn’t fully forgiven him for his midnight indiscretions.

“We’re going to talk to him as soon as he gets back,” Dooley announced.

“Wait, where is he?” asked Harriet.

“Out. Chase took him for a walk,” I said.

“Out! So you’re telling me both our canineand our human bodyguards left us all alone—exposed to who knows what kinds of dangers!”

“I’m sure this cat killer won’t attack us when there’s people around,” I said.

“A bodyguard should be present at all times to guard your body,” said Harriet decidedly. “What else are they there for?”

She had a point, I had to admit.

“He does have to do his business twice or three times a day,” I said. “That’s how it works for dogs. And he can only do his business when he goes for a walk.”

“Well, I for one don’t feel safe,” said Harriet. “And I want a different bodyguard. I want a human bodyguard. And I want him to be around twenty-four-seven. Who’s with me?” And she held up her paw to indicate she wanted to put the matter to a vote.

Brutus immediately held up his paw, but I was reluctant to follow his example.“I don’t know,” I said. “I was going to talk to Clarice, and ask her to help us out, but we all know that will be a tough ask. And since we don’t have any other options here… I say we keep Chase and we keep Rambo, at least if we can get him house-trained.”

“Dooley? What say you?” Harriet snapped, giving me a fiery look that meant trouble.

“I’m with Max,” said my friend.

“Of course you are,” said Harriet. “Well, fine! I’ll deal with this on my own. Come on, Brutus. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” asked Brutus.

“Out!” said Harriet, and stalked off.

Brutus gave us an apologetic grimace, then followed his girlfriend out through the pet flap.

“I wonder what she’s going to do,” said Dooley, as he thoughtfully studied his bowl, as if hoping that cat kibble would magically appear out of thin air. “Did you know that dogs could slobber this much, Max?”

“No, I didn’t, Dooley.”

He touched the goo with a look of distaste.“It feels like… the stuff they put on pies.”

“I’m sure they don’t put dog goo on pies.”

And as we discussed the ins and outs of dog goo, suddenly Dudley came bounding down the stairs, looking distinctly cheerful. And why wouldn’t he? He’d just found his long-lost dad—that he hadn’t even known existed. Jerry Springer, if he’d been present, would have handed him a fat contract on the spot.

“Hey, fellas,” said the prodigal son when he spotted us. “What a lovely, lovely day this is, huh?”

And he opened the fridge and started rooting around as if this was his home—which I suppose now it was.

Next to come down the stairs, though she wasn’t bounding but shuffling, was Gran. When she saw Dudley, she frowned. “So you’re still here, huh?” she said, not sounding overly welcoming.

“Yup,” said Dudley. “And can I just say, Mrs. Muffin, how very glad I am to meet you. My own grandmother died when I was three, and I always wanted to have a sweet old lady just like yourself to spend time with.”

“For your information, sonny boy, I’m not an old lady. I’m only seventy-five. And secondly, if you think I’m going to spend time with you, you’re delusional. I’m out of here.” And to show Dudley she meant what she said, she promptly skedaddled.

“Not exactly the sweetest granny in the world, is she?” said Dudley, addressing us, I assumed, even though he wasn’t looking at us but at Gran’s disappearing back.

“Oh, Gran can be very sweet when she wants to be,” I said. “But she can also be extremely testy.”

“I guess I’ll just have to win her over,” said Dudley with a shrug, then took the box of cereal out of the cupboard and dumped a goodish helping into his mouth.

Chapter 23

“Yeah, we bought that piece of land years ago, didn’t we, hon? And for a bargain, too,” said Tex as he poured some coffee for his guests—Charlene Butterwick and Alec.

“We bought this house before Odelia was born,” said Marge. “And back then we were still thinking about building our own home, figuring this one would soon be too small.”

“Initially we wanted two or three kids,” Tex explained as he took a seat. They were out in the backyard, and he’d already raised the parasol since the sun was really turning up the heat. “But then after Odelia was born we kinda dropped the idea, didn’t we?”

“We did. But we never sold the land, figuring it might bring us some money down the road. Or maybe at some point Odelia would want to build herself a home there.”

“Well, it’s certainly going to bring you some very good money,” said Charlene as she took a nibble from her piece of toast.

“How much?” suddenly asked Dudley.

“I thought the developers had been in touch?” asked Charlene. “Didn’t they make an offer?”

Tex frowned.“I think someone called me a couple of weeks ago, but I just figured it was one of them cold callers trying to sell life insurance so I hung up on them.”

“We did get a letter in the mail not so long ago,” said Marge. “But since we’d more or less decided to let Odelia have the land I didn’t pay attention. It didn’t mention a mall.”

“How much did they offer?” asked Dudley eagerly.

“No price was mentioned as far as I know,” said Marge. She wasn’t happy that Dudley was inserting himself into the conversation, but Tex had insisted, figuring he was part of the family now. Odelia, unfortunately, had already left for work, and so had Chase, otherwise they could have weighed in, too.

“So the mall is happening?” asked Tex.

“It’s still early days,” said Charlene. “Which is why if you’re going to sell you better do it now. Because if nothing comes of this, they’ll immediately rescind their offer.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” said Marge, and she meant it. They could always use the extra money, now that they apparently had an extra mouth to feed in the form of Dudley.

“I think you should hold off on accepting their offer, Daddy,” said the kid now. “Let them come back with a higher offer, and see how high you can get them to go before accepting.” He leaned back. “I’ll bet you can get them to offer you millions for that plot.”

“Millions!” said Tex with a laugh. “In your dreams, buddy.”

“No, I’m serious, Daddy! They need that land. Without it they can’t build their precious mall. So I’ll bet they’re willing to pay you whatever it takes to get rid of you.”

“Dudley isn’t lying, Tex,” said Charlene. “They seem very willing to make you a great offer. Their exact words were: whatever it takes.”

“Oh, my,” said Tex, a blush of excitement mantling his cheeks. “Do you hear that, honey? We could be rich.”

“Let’s wait and see,” said Marge, who didn’t like the way Dudley kept interfering in what she considered a private family matter.

“Okay, I gotta go,” said Alec, getting up. “Marge—can I have a quick word?”

She got up and followed her brother into the house. The moment they entered the kitchen he turned and said, with a frown,“What’s that kid up to?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but I don’t trust him—do you?”

“I’m not sure.” He glanced out through the window at Dudley, who was talking a mile a minute, with Tex smiling all the while. “Do you want me to check him out for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—how do you know he really is who he says he is? He could be anyone.”

“I know. I was thinking the exact same thing. But Tex doesn’t want to hear it. He’s convinced Dudley is his son—end of discussion.”

Alec nodded, and glanced around.“Got anything that belongs to Dudley?”

“Um…” She picked up a sweater the kid had dropped on one of the kitchen chairs. “You mean something like this?”

The police chief quickly extracted a few hairs and tucked them into a small plastic baggie.“And now I’m going to need something of your husband.”

“DNA?” she said, understanding dawning.

“I hope he won’t mind that we’re going behind his back on this,” said Alec as he watched Marge rifle through the laundry hamper in the laundry room off the kitchen until she found one of Tex’s shirts. Alec repeated the procedure and tucked both baggies away.

“Oh, he won’t be happy about it,” she said. “But that can’t be helped.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What if he isn’t Tex’s son? What do we do then?”

“You let me worry about that,” he said with a smile as he placed a kiss on her brow.

She gratefully put a hand on his broad chest. In moments like these she was happy that her big brother was a cop.

As soon as Alec had left, she returned to the breakfast table, where the topic under discussion was still the same as before: the millions of dollars that would be flowing into the Poole coffers now that this mall development was underway. And as Marge studied Dudley, she found herself thinking once again that she didn’t trust this kid.

But how was she going to convince her husband?

Now there was an interesting problem.

Chapter 24

The moment Chase had returned from walking Rambo, Odelia had swept us all into her car and rushed off. Perhaps swept is too strong a word, as it’s probably hard for any human to sweep a two hundred pound dog into a car. Cajole is perhaps the better description, and so there we were, on our way to a destination unknown, four cats in the backseat, while Rambo took up space in the trunk of the car.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My uncle gave me a secret assignment yesterday,” Odelia announced, sounding happy and excited in equal measure. “You remember Charlene’s uncle who died?”

“Yeah, he fell into his own pool, right?”

“Right. Well, Uncle Alec isn’t the kind of cop who likes to accept the most obvious explanation about anything, and so he wants me to look into this death a little closer. Make sure there’s nothing suspicious about it.”

“You think Charlene’s uncle was murdered?” asked Harriet.

“I don’t know. But I’m sure I’ll find out.”

“I like this,” grunted the dog who was breathing down my neck. “Just like the old days: out on patrol, catching the bad guys.”

“Did you go out on patrol a lot when you were on active duty?” asked Brutus, who, technically at least, was also a police animal, as he’d once belonged to a cop.

“Oh, yeah. All the time. Until they figured I was too old for the job, and they retired me. I’m too young to retire, so I didn’t like that,” he said. And then he sneezed, causing big gobs of goo to hit the back of my neck and even the back of Odelia’s head.

Even if Rambo was too old to chase the bad guys, he could always hit them with his goo and make them surrender, I figured as I extracted the worst of the sticky goo from my precious blorange fur.

“Eww,” Harriet whispered. “Eww, eww, eww!”

“Oh, can you have that talk now, Max?” said Odelia. “About the bowl situation, I mean?”

“What bowel situation?” said Rambo. “My bowels are just fine, in case you were wondering.”

“Not thebowel situation—thebowl situation,” I clarified.

“What about my bowls?” he grunted, looking annoyed.

“The thing is, Rambo,” said Harriet, turning to face the large dog, “that in our household we each have our own designated bowl—two, in fact. One for water and one for kibble. And at night usually a third bowl comes out when Odelia doles out the wet food. And you can multiply that number bytwo, since we occupy two homes.”

“Ooh, wet food,” said the big dog, licking his lips with an extremely long tongue. “Rambo likes himself some wet food.”

“Yes, well, so the whole point of this setup is that we only eat from our own bowl, you see? And for convenience’s sake our bowls even have our names on them. So Max has his bowls, I have my bowls, Dooley has his bowls, and so does Brutus and so do you!” She gave him a beaming smile, but the dog shook his head, causing some of his saliva to sprinkle around.

“I don’t get it,” he announced in that deep gravelly voice of his.

“You can only eat from the bowl that has your name on it,” I said. “You can’t touch any other bowl.”

The dog frowned.“Oh.” Then he frowned some more, causing his eyes to disappear into the folds of his face. “I see…”

“And?” said Odelia. “Do you understand the rules, Rambo? I’m sorry to have to be this strict, but with five pets in the house we need to have some house rules, you see.”

“But… what if I’m hungry?” asked Rambo.

“What is he saying, Max?” asked Odelia, glancing back through the rearview mirror.

“He wants to know what he should do when he’s hungry,” I translated Rambo’s words.

“I’ll make sure to keep his bowl filled at all times,” she said with a smile. “Just like I do with all you guys. Except Max, because Max has to watch his weight.”

I made a face.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Maxie,” said Odelia. “You know you tend to gorge.”

“I don’t ‘gorge,’” I said stiffishly. “I simply have a very healthy appetite.”

“I hear you, Max,” said Rambo. “I’m exactly the same. I have the kind of appetite that makes me very cranky when I don’t have anything to eat.” He stared at me. “Very cranky.”

I gulped a little. I had the distinct impression that Rambo wouldn’t mind eatingme if he ever found his bowl empty and couldn’t touch my food or the others’.

“Odelia, did you stock up on dog food?” I asked, my voice a little squeaky.

“I asked Chase to pick up some more after work,” she said. “I hope he doesn’t forget.”

“I hope so, too,” grumbled Rambo, still giving me that penetrating look.

“He won’t,” I said in a strangled voice. “And if he does, you can always eat some of my food.”

“I thought you said I can only eat from my own bowl?”

“No, but just in case of an emergency I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Only if you’re sure, Max,” said Rambo, his hooded eyes boring into mine. “Cause if not, I won’t touch your bowl. I’ll just find something else to eat…” And then he gave me a toothy grin, and I could see he had some very sharp incisors. Sharp and very, very big.

Gulp!

Chapter 25

They’d arrived at the address Odelia’s uncle had sent her. The bungalow-style house was a modest one, in a quiet neighborhood that had been built about thirty years before. It had a front yard that was well-kept, but the house itself looked a little rundown.

She set foot for the front door, four cats and one dog looking on from the sidewalk.

There was no bell to ring, but there was a sturdy brass knocker, so she used it deftly. Moments later she could hear stumbling inside, and the shuffling of feet. And when the door opened and a large man appeared, puffing from a cigarette, and only dressed in boxers and a tank top, she gave him her best smile.“Mr. Pollard? Jerry Pollard? My name is Odelia Poole, and—”

“I know who you are,” he said, and stepped aside. “Come on in. Your uncle told me you were coming.”

“Thanks,” she said, and glanced back at her pets. She didn’t think she could take them inside this time, so she gestured that they should go around the back. Who knows, maybe they could listen in on the conversation, and even save her life if Mr. Pollard turned out to be a serial killer who liked to dismember his visitors and stuff them into his freezer.

“Take a seat,” he mumbled, and started dumping pizza boxes and fast food wrappers to the floor. “Don’t mind the mess.”

She glanced around. Apart from the obvious mess, and the telltale signs that Mr. Pollard liked to eat his dinners—and presumably his other meals, too—in front of this TV, the place was reasonably clean. She could see pictures of kids and several pictures of Jerry Pollard in better days, his arm casually slung around a woman with red hair, three red-haired grinning kids also present and accounted for.

He followed her gaze.“She lives in Florida now. Married a real estate broker. Took the kids, too.”

“I’m sorry about that, Mr. Pollard,” she said.

He smiled and rubbed his eyes.“So Frank Butterwick died, huh? Fell into his pool.” He shook his head. “Sad affair. I liked Frank. Great guy—wonderful friend.”

“You were the silent partner in his company?”

“Yeah, he needed capital to start his own business, and back then I was loaded, so I didn’t mind setting him up in business for himself. He used to work for me, you know. I’ve been in construction my whole life, and Frank was that rare person: great at his job, and honest to a T. I was sad tosee him go, but when he offered me a partnership, I jumped at the chance. Guy like that was going to make it big, I could tell. And he did. Heck, half the homes in Hampton Cove now have a pool that he installed. Or I should probably say we, though I just provided the capital and he did all the work.”

“My uncle seems to think there might have been foul play involved. What do you think?”

He shrugged.“I don’t know anything about that, sweetie. Frank and I didn’t get in touch much. He dropped by from time to time, but from what I could see he was doing just fine—didn’t need my help.”

“Are you still in business, Mr. Pollard?”

“Nah—the divorce pretty much blindsided me. Took me a while to get back on my feet, and by then the business had folded. This is not a line of work you can run from behind your computer. You have to be right there, on site, all the time, keeping an eye on things. If you don’t, it all goes belly-up before you know it. But I’m not complaining. Financially I’m doing okay—mostly thanks to Frank.”

“So you’re not aware of anyone who would have carried a grudge against him? Anyone who would want to kill him?”

Jerry Pollard hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.“Frank wasn’t the kind of guy to create enemies. He was well-liked. A real people person.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you hesitated before answering my question, though.”

He laughed.“Your uncle told me you’re a pretty sharp cookie, Miss Poole. Yeah, there was one incident Frank told me about. Not that I think it matters, but…” He grimaced. “It just didn’t sit well with him, you know. And I could tell it bothered him.”

“What incident was that?”

“Frank started out with one guy—one builder. He pretty much took him under his wing, before hiring more people and slowly building up his company, like you do.”

“And? Something happened with this builder?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that. See, this boy didn’t have any parents.”

“An orphan.”

Mr. Pollard nodded.“So Frank being the kind of guy he was, pretty much treated him like a son. There was a vague understanding that one day when Frank retired he’d leave the business to this kid. Which wasn’t a bad offer, as the company was doing really well.”

“And then what happened?”

Mr. Pollard shrugged.“I’m not sure. One day the kid simply up and left without a word. Just… walked out. Gave Frank quite a shock, I can tell you. Shook him to the core.”

“Do you have a name for this person?”

“Yeah, Brett Cragg. Last I heard he lived on Grover Street, though that information dates back six months.”

“When he left the company,” said Odelia, nodding.

“Yup. Which just goes to show: be careful who you trust, and never, ever, hand the keys of your company to just any old fella walking in from the street.”

“Do you think this Brett Cragg could be responsible for Frank’s death?”

“I don’t know, sweetie, but if I were you, I’d definitely talk to him.”

Chapter 26

“So this is what you do?” asked Rambo. “Sitting around waiting for your human?”

“Not always,” I said. “Sometimes we spring into action and actually catch killers, too.”

He scoffed.“Yeah, right. Looks to me like you guys have a real cushy job. Your human takes care of everything while you simply sit around and wait. In my day at the K9 unit I had to do all the work. I chased the suspects, I apprehended them, I breathed down their necks if they so much as moved a muscle.”

He was certainly breathing down my neck, and I can tell you that his breath wasn’t exactly like a summer breeze.

The five of us were seated in the backyard of the man Odelia had come to interview. There wasn’t a lot we could do, as the back door was closed shut, and I could see no sign of any pets to talk to, so we just hunkered down for the time being, and glanced around at the world in general and the backyard in particular. It wasn’t a bad backyard, as backyards go: it was about the size of a postage stamp, but what there was of it was well-maintained, with a little bit of lawn and some nice decorations in the form of a windmill and even a slide, which told me the backyard was visited by kids from time to time. There was also the obligatory grill, which would have pleased Odelia’s dad to no end.

“Look, not all pets just gallivant around and are all action, action, action,” said Harriet now. “Some of us use our brains before we act. Maybe you should try the same, Rambo.”

I was expecting Rambo to pounce on Harriet and wait for a cop to put the cuffs on her the way he used to do when he was still an active member of the force, but much to my surprise he actually smiled, then burst into a rumbling laugh. “I like you,” he said finally. “You’ve got spunk, little missy.”

“Thanks, I guess,” said Harriet doubtfully.

“So you’re from the ‘Think before you act’ school of policing, are you? Good for you. I was always more into the ‘Act first, think later’ class. But then I guess I’m just built that way, whereas cats are perhaps the smarter creatures when compared to us dogs.”

“Thank you, Rambo,” said Harriet emphatically. She turned to us. “What have I been telling you guys all along? That cats are the brains and dogs are the brawn, right?”

I’d never even once heard Harriet say that, but before I could point this out to her, she was already moving on.

“I think we would make a great team, Rambo,” she said. “You’re the muscle and I’m the finesse. So maybe you should join us.”

“Us? What’s this us you’re talking about?”

“We’re the proud members of Odelia’s posse,” said Harriet. “She’s an amateur sleuth, you see, and we’re her secret weapon. Like… she’s Charlie and we’re her angels?”

“So you solve crime, huh? Catch killers and such?”

“That’s right,” said Harriet, tilting her head proudly. “You’re looking at Hampton Cove’s premier feline crime fighters.”

“So if you’re so good at what you do, then why do you need a guard dog is what I’m wondering.”

“Um…”

I smiled, for Rambo had performed the ultimate feat: he’d managed to shut Harriet up. I’d never managed this myself, so it was with a certain measure of admiration that I regarded the big old dog now.

“Look, this killer took us by surprise, all right?” said Harriet, never one to be stumped for long. “The last thing you suspect is for a cat killer to show up in your own home, and grab you before you know what’s happening.”

“You have to remain vigilant, Harriet,” said Rambo, speaking like one who knows. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my years on the force it’s that you can never let your guard down, no matter what.”

“Do you ever let your guard down?” I asked.

“Me? Never! I mean, you probably think I’m some lumbering, drooling, smelly has-been, right?”

“Oh, no,” I said, though that was exactly what I’d been thinking.

“Wrong! I’m always alert. Always looking, always listening,” he said, as his eyes swiveled this way and that. “That’s why I’m so good at what I do. You never see me coming.”

I could definitely smell him coming, though.

“The bad guys underestimate me, and that’s my secret weapon. They laugh at me—oh, look at that stupid mutt. Ha ha ha. And BOOM! I pounce and that’s the end of them.”

“Good for you,” I said without much conviction. Talk is cheap, after all, and this big dog could most certainly talk.

He suddenly cut his eyes to me, and said,“I see a lot of me in you, Max.”

“Oh?” I said, surprised.

“Yeah, you’re also fat, out of shape, ugly… a mouth-breather. But underneath all that flab and blubber beats the heart of a true warrior.”

I didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed. It’s always tough when they wrap the compliments in a thick layer of insults. “Um, thanks, I guess,” I said.

“Or you, Dooley. You look like a weakling. A dumbass. But you’re a lot smarter than you look, am I right?”

“I… think so?” said Dooley uncertainly.

“Or look at Brutus. Underneath all that bluster and posturing lurks a sly dog. And then there’s Harriet, of course. She may look like a drama queen, a prissy princess, a gigglepuss, but she’s smart as a whip, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh?” said Harriet with a frown.

“So yeah, I guess we make a great team, just like you said,” he said with a yawn, then placed his head on his front paws and closed his eyes. And soon he was snoring away again, making the air tremble with the volume of his snores.

“Do you think he’s asleep, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I think there’s a good chance of that, Dooley,” I said.

“But he said he’s always vigilant, always alert—sees all, hears all, knows all…”

I waved a hand in front of the dog’s closed eyes, then poked him in the squishy nose.

“Nope,” I said. “He’s definitely fast asle—”

“Gotcha!” suddenly roared Rambo, and placed his big paw on top of my head!

“Aaargh!” I screamed, much surprised.

And then he burst into a booming laugh, and soon Harriet, Brutus and Dooley were all laughing along.

“The look on your face, Max!” Harriet squealed. “Priceless!”

“Yeah, you should have seen yourself, Max!” said Brutus. “You looked absolutely terrified!”

“He is always alert, Max!” said Dooley. “Amazing, Mr. Rambo.”

“Thanks, Dooley. Just a small demonstration of my secret power. And now I’m going to take a nap for real. If this cat killer shows his ugly face, wake me up, all right?”

And then he went right back to snoring like a lumberjack. And this time I wasn’t going anywhere near him. Once bitten and all that.

And when half an hour later Odelia rounded the bungalow to fetch us, we were still sitting motionless, while our guard dog was sleeping the sleep of the dead.

So much for unwavering vigilance…

Chapter 27

When Odelia saw her four cats, guarded by a dog that was fast asleep, the sight didn’t do much to quell her fears for their safety. She’d known that her uncle wouldn’t be able to supply her with the best dog the K9 unit had to offer, but this Rambo wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d asked for a guard dog.

Then again, she couldn’t very well ask Chase to keep an eye on them all the time. So it was imperative that whoever had attacked them at home was found and found fast.

So when she was back in her car, and had buckled her seatbelt, she called her uncle.

“Hey, Uncle Alec,” she said. “I was just calling in for an update on this cat killer?”

“Nothing new, honey,” said her uncle. “I have some of my people asking around, but whoever this guy was, he was careful not to be seen entering or leaving the house.”

“Okay… So maybe fingerprints? Anything?”

“Nothing so far. Why? Aren’t your cats happy with their new friend?”

“Not exactly,” she said, though she didn’t want to say more, for Rambo was in the back of the car, and he definitely wasn’t sleeping now.

“Don’t let his appearance deceive you,” said her uncle. “He’s one of the best we’ve got. Or at least he used to be when he was a full-fledged member of the team. He may be retired now, but I’m sure he’s still got that killer instinct you want to see in a guard dog.”

She glanced back, and saw that Rambo had placed his voluminous head on the top of the backseat, slobbering all over the upholstery. He was certainly killing her car.

“So did you get anything from this guy Jerry Pollard?”

“Maybe.” And she told her uncle about the builder who’d run away.

“Interesting,” he said. “Maybe I’ll run it by Charlene. She might remember something. She and her uncle had a good connection.”

“I’ll try to find out where he lives, and see if I can’t track him down,” she said.

“You do that, honey. Um…”

“What is it?”

“I’m running a check on Dudley. I took a strand of his hair and one from your dad.”

“You want to see if he’s really Dad’s son.”

“Yup. According to Marge your dad is really taken in with the kid. She’s not so sure, though.”

“He seems nice enough.”

“Yeah, I know, but I guess Marge feels it pays to be careful. After all, what do we know about him? Nothing.”

“No, sure. But I think the DNA test will come back a positive match. He even looks like Dad—minus the ears.”

“Yeah, well, I’m of the same opinion as my sister. You can never be too careful these days. Oh, and did you know about the plot of land your mom and dad own and that now may be worth a great deal of money?”

“What?”

“Ask your mom. She’ll tell you all about it.” And with a light chuckle, he disconnected.

“Plot of land?” she said, staring before her.

“What’s going on?” asked Max.

“It looks like my parents are going to be rich,” she said. “And my uncle is running a DNA test on Dudley, to see if he really is who he says he is.”

“Very prudent,” growled Rambo. “You can’t trust anyone these days. The world is full of cheaters and swindlers and thieves and con artists. Not to mention murderers, backstabbers and other scum of the earth.”

And on that cheerful note, he put down his head again.

Odelia started the engine and drove off, in search of this mysterious young man who’d joined then left Frank Butterwick’s company.

It didn’t take her long to find out where he lived: she simply asked around in the neighborhood Jerry Pollard had indicated. When she showed up on his doorstep, though, he didn’t answer the bell, and when she knocked on the door, no one came.

His next-door-neighbor, who was pruning her hedge, saw her peeking in through the window, and announced,“That won’t do you any good, honey. He moved out last month.”

“Where to?” she asked.

But the woman shrugged.“He didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask.” And continued her pruning.

“Great,” Odelia muttered. And as she walked back to her car, her phone dinged, and when she looked she saw she’d received a message from her mom. It contained a link, and when she clicked on the link, it took her to a Gofundme page, set up by… Vesta Muffin!

“Oh, dear,” she murmured. As she got back into her car, she showed the cats the page. “Looks like Gran is collecting money for a new car,” she announced.

“Nice,” said Brutus. “I like the look of that Escalade.”

“Yeah, I like it, too,” she said. “But the way Gran drives I pity the people who get in her way.”

In fact it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to get Gran to take her driving test again. But that probably wasn’t in the cards.

“Why don’tyou get a new car?” asked Harriet. “You could set up one of these Gofundme pages, too, and get rid of this piece of junk.”

She smiled.“It may be a piece of junk, Harriet, but I’m attached to my car.”

Her clunky but precious pickup was the first car she’d ever bought, with money she’d earned herself, and she didn’t want to get rid of it until she had to.

“As long as it keeps on rolling, I will keep on driving it,” she announced, and as she said the words, suddenly there was a loud crunching sound, and the engine… died!

Chapter 28

Harriet wasn’t feeling particularly happy. This was not an unusual state of affairs for the gorgeous white Persian, but this time she could attribute her unhappiness to a very specific incident: her boyfriend admitting that he had a habit of peeing in her bowl. The fact that he also liked to pee in Max and Dooley’s bowls didn’t much interest her, but he shouldn’t have peed in hers—that was obvious.

So she was upset, and when she was upset she liked to make it known to everyone around her, and most specifically to the person she was upset with, in this case Brutus.

Problem was that this cat killer was still around, and now Odelia had more or less corralled them all together with either Chase as their protector, or Rambo. So she couldn’t even walk off on a huff and ignore Brutus the way he should be ignored after what he’d put her through. She was forced to stick together with the offender, and act as if nothing happened, which was agony for a cat as proficient at expressing her anger as she was.

Lucky for her she was also a very clever kitten, so the moment Odelia had called Triple-A and was patiently waiting for the tow truck to show up, she sidled up to her human and said, ever so sweetly,“I had a great idea, Odelia, and I wanted to run it by you if you’ve got a moment.”

“Oh, sure, Harriet,” said Odelia. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, you know how Rambo and Chase are supposed to protect us?”

“Uh-huh?”

“The thing is, I’m pretty sure that cat killer was in fact targeting me, not the others. So I think it only stands to reason that Chase and Rambo should protect me, and let the others go about their business the way they usually do.” She gave Odelia a mournful look. “You know the burden us females have to carry, always being targeted by some nasty element of the male species? Max, Dooley and Brutus simply don’t have that kind of experience, nor do I feel they should be punished because I’m the one under attack.”

“You think the attacker was gunning for you, is that what you’re saying?”

“Absolutely. And isn’t that always the case? So if you could ask Chase to guard my back from now on, and Rambo, too, I’d be very much obliged, Odelia, sweetie.”

Odelia, who wasn’t in the best of moods, after her car had broken down, eyed her a little strangely, Harriet thought. “You and Brutus have been fighting again, haven’t you?”

“Just one of those lovers’ tiffs,” said Harriet airily. “You know how it goes. I’ll bet you and Chase go through that sort of thing all the time.”

“No, actually we don’t,” said Odelia. “So what have you been fighting about this time?”

She sighed.“I really don’t want to bother you with my petty problems, Odelia. You have so much on your mind already.”

“Indulge me,” said Odelia.

“Well…” She glanced over to where Brutus stood chatting with Max and Dooley and Rambo, and frowned. “Brutus confessed that sometimes he pees in our bowls. Not a full tinkle, you see, but just a pre-pee or pre-tinkle, as he calls it, when he feels he won’t be able to reach his litter box in time. So he unleashes a few drops into the first bowl he sees, which just so happens to be either mine or Dooley’s or Max’s and not his own if you please, and then he proceeds to his box for the main course, as it were. And when I asked him why he doesn’t pee in his own bowl, he didn’t really have an answer for me.”

Odelia smiled, which struck Harriet as highly inappropriate indeed.“Maybe I should ask Mom to put a small plastic tub in the bedroom, just for these kinds of midnight emergencies,” she said. “In the old days people actually put a chamber pot in their bedrooms, so maybe we should dust off that old custom for you guys.”

“Oh,I don’t have a problem reaching my litter box in time,” Harriet assured her human. “It’s only Brutus who seems to have an acute bladder control issue.”

“Harriet, honey, you can’t really blame Brutus because he has a small bladder. I mean, I agree he shouldn’t have done it, but I think we can all agree that he didn’t do it on purpose. It was just an accident.”

“An accident is when it happens once,” Harriet argued, starting to wonder in whose corner Odelia was: hers or Brutus’s. “But this happened several times—six times, to be exact. And six times doesn’t qualify as an accident but more as something he’s been doing on purpose, just because he can.”

“I’m sure Brutus was simply too embarrassed to talk about his midnight mishaps. It is a little embarrassing for a proud cat like him to have to admit that he can’t hold up his pee. And so instead of being angry with him, I think you should have some compassion.”

“Compassion?” asked Harriet, as if the word was new to her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that this isn’t something Brutus can do much about. It happens to humans, too, you know. When we get older, sometimes we simply lose the ability to control our bladders. And sometimes it leads to these little mishaps.” She patted Harriet’s head. “Just be gentle with Brutus, sweetheart. He’s a good cat, and you should be proud to call him your boyfriend.”

“Mh,” said Harriet, not convinced. “So what are you saying? That you won’t assign Chase and Rambo as my private bodyguards from now on?”

“I’m sure you weren’t the only target,” said Odelia, adding insult to injury with these words. “If you were, he wouldn’t have put you all in that chest and set it on fire, would he?”

She hated this kind of spurious argument, so she gave Odelia an unhappy look and turned away. She’d specifically asked Odelia because she figured women had to stick together in a man’s world, and all Odelia had for her were empty words like ‘compassion’ and ‘mishaps’ and vague promises about ‘chamber pots,’ whatever that was.

Fat lot of good that did her, she meant to say. And when she joined the others again, she vowed to find a different solution to her problem—one that didn’t involve that treacherous Odelia Poole.

What good was it to have a human if she wasn’t in your corner when it mattered?

Chapter 29

“Bellamy Butt Movers and Shakers? Yes, this is Odelia Poole. I’m a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette, and I’m working on a story about the death of Frank Butterwick. Mr. Butterwick had someone who worked for him that I’d like to speak to. And it is my understanding that you helped move him out of his apartment a couple of months ago.”

She gave the person on the other end of the line the name and address of Brett Cragg, and was gratified to hear that Bellamy Butt’s aptly named moving company had, indeed, moved Mr. Cragg out of his apartment. What she wasn’t happy about was that the address they’d moved him to was located in the great state of Ohio. They did have a phone number on record for the young builder, and she gratefully jotted it down.

Her next call told her that the number had been disconnected, though, which made her investigations into Charlene’s uncle hit another snag. And as she patiently waited for the tow truck to pick up her pickup, she wondered about her next course of action.

So she’d talked to Frank Butterwick’s former associate, the police had already talked to his current workers, and she’d tried to hunt down his very first worker and failed.

Where did that leave her? Exactly nowhere.

And she was just wondering where to go from here when the tow truck finally arrived and for the next ten minutes she watched as her pickup was being hauled away.

She’d already called her grandmother and asked her for a ride, and when the old lady drove up in Odelia’s mom’s ancient Peugeot, she was glad to finally be mobile again.

“You should do like me,” said Gran as she steered the vehicle in the direction of town. “You should start one of them Gofungus things. You’ll have a new car in no time.”

“I don’t think Gofundme is designed to help people buy themselves a new car, Gran,” she said. “Besides, I’m sure my pickup will be fixed soon.”

“That old thing? I’d take it to the junkyard if I were you.”

“The guy who came to pick it up said it was probably a faulty fuel pump. I’ll have the car back tomorrow already.” He’d also said she was extremely lucky that she didn’t end up rolling her stalled pickup straight into oncoming traffic and getting herself killed in a head-on collision, butshe wisely kept that bit of information to herself.

“Better get yourself a new set of wheels is what I say. That wreck you call a car is going to cost you an arm and a leg in repairs over the next couple of years.”

“Well, I happen to like that old wreck, and as long as I can keep driving it, I will.”

“You know what? As soon as these Gofunky people have collected enough money so I can buy myself that Escalade, you can have this car. How about that?” She tapped the wheel. “It’s still a pretty decent old thing. Pretty sure you’ll be able to get a couple thousand more miles out of it.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure Mom will be glad to have her car back.”

“Marge doesn’t need a car,” grunted Gran. “Besides, she’ll be a millionaire soon. She’ll be able to buy herself all the cars she needs.”

“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t even know Mom and Dad owned that land.”

“Nobody knew! I think they completely forgot about it themselves, the doofuses.”

“So you think they’ll sell?”

“Of course they’ll sell! They’d be crazy not to! Now I know that Marge has an eccentric streak, and your father isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in God’s big shed, but even they wouldn’t be so dumb as to leave a couple million dollars on the table.”

“Millions? You really think they’ll fetch millions for that piece of land?”

“From what Charlene said this morning? It sure looks like it to me.”

“Yeah, I suppose a deal like that is too good to turn down.”

“Which is exactly what I told them. And they should move fast, too. These developer types are tricky. They’ll pay you millions today and pennies on the dollar tomorrow—for the same land!”

“Do you think that mall will actually be built?”

“Of course that mall will be built. Everybody wants money, honey. And politicians like Charlene most of all. I’m pretty sure she’ll be getting all kinds of kickbacks and backhanders, and so will the other council members.” She tapped her nose. “Take it from me—a lot of people will get filthy rich off this deal, and Hampton Cove will be left with a town center that’s deader than a dodo. But hey, that’s progress for you: some people get rich, and others get poor. Let’s just make sure we’re on the right side of the equation.”

“If you really believe this mall will turn downtown Hampton Cove into a dead zone, don’t you think we should organize some kind of protest? Try to convince Charlene to stop this development?”

Gran shrugged as she sat hunched over the steering wheel, driving through town at breakneck speed as was her habit.“Fat lot of good that’ll do. These two-faced politicians will do whatever they want to do. They’re not going to listen to the likes of you or me.”

“Why not? Your son is Charlene’s boyfriend, which practically makes her your daughter-in-law.”

Gran grinned.“Where have you been, honey? Nobody ever listens to me! And the ones who are least likely to do what I say is my own damn family!”

Odelia smiled. Gran had a point.“I still think that if you hate that mall, you should tell Charlene. You never know—maybe she’ll actually listen.”

“Yeah, right,” muttered Gran, and aggressively bypassed a vehicle, gesticulating widely as she did, then took a hard right and pulled over, stomping on the brakes.

Odelia was propelled forward, saved by her seatbelt, and so were the cats. Who wasn’t so lucky was Rambo, who’d been seated in the trunk of the car, due to his sheer size, and now came rocketing forward and plopped down on top of the cats, burying them in a mountain of dog.

By the time he’d managed to scramble out of the car, four cats were gasping for air, and looking more than a little unhappy.

“When you said you’d hire a guard dog to keep us safe, you didn’t mention that he’d try to kill us!” said Harriet, who was never shy to voice her grievances loud and clear.

“I’m sorry,” said Gran. “Things will get better once Gofunkus buys me my Escalade.”

“Or a whole lot worse,” murmured Max.

They all stood on the sidewalk and watched Gran take off again—like a bat out of hell.

“She should really learn how to drive,” said Brutus.

“Yeah, for the leader of the neighborhood watch she’s this neighborhood’s biggest threat,” said Max. “In fact we probably need a second watch to watch the first watch.”

“I’m never setting foot in a car with Gran again,” Harriet vowed.

“I think she means well,” said Dooley.

“I’m hungry,” said Rambo with a yawn. “When do we eat?”

“Step into my office,” Odelia said. “As long as this cat killer is on the loose, I think it’s best if you guys stick close to me.”

It was with some reluctance that her cats followed her into her office. Then again, she couldn’t very well ask Chase to keep an eye on them again after last night’s eventful shift. And even though they now had their own watchdog in the form of Rambo, she still felt more relaxed when the entire cat troupe stayed where she could see them at all times.

And so once again she was faced with her initial conundrum.

How to proceed with the Frank Butterwick case!

Chapter 30

Gran arrived home in record time and parked her car haphazardly at the curb, then hurried into the house. She’d left her phone in her room that morning and she felt bereft without the little technological wonder.

For one thing, she wanted to know where they stood with the Goflunky campaign. How many thousands of dollars they’d already collected and when she could finally go and buy herself that shiny new Escalade!

She’d already visited the car dealership that morning and had picked out the make and model. Now all she needed was the cash to buy the darn thing and they were in business.

She stormed into her bedroom, picked her phone from the nightstand and then stormed down again. Only she must have missed a step, for suddenly she faltered and before she knew what was happening she was airborne… for just a couple of seconds, unfortunately, and then she was tumbling down the steps—face forward!

She hit the stairs hard, and skidded down the last few steps, and when finally she came to a full stop, she was still holding onto her phone, wondering what in the name of all that was holy had happened!

“Gran!” said Dudley, who was the first to arrive on the crash scene. “Are you all right?”

“First off, I’m not your grandmother,” she grunted. “And what are you doing there gawking at me like a dead fish? Help me up, will you?”

“Are you hurt?” asked Dudley, sounding surprised that she was still talking after taking such a tumble.

“Of course I’m not hurt,” she said annoyedly. “Takes more than an awkward landing to put a dent in this old gal.” She still checked herself for broken bones or sprains or other calamities, but the only thing that hurt was her pride. “Lucky escape,” she muttered as she slapped Dudley’s eager ministrations away.

She glanced back, wondering why she’d taken that sudden tumble. And then she saw it: the carpet runner had come loose somewhere halfway up the stairs. She gave it a closer look, and saw that the screws holding the darn thing in place had come unstuck.

“Weirdest thing,” she said as she vowed to give her son-in-law a piece of her mind.

“I better get that fixed,” said Dudley as he saw what she was looking at.

“Wasn’t like that this morning,” said Vesta. “Pretty sure it was fine then.”

“These screws can be fiddly,” said the kid. “Especially if the runner was screwed down a long time ago.”

“I’ll tell Tex to fix it.”

“Nah, don’t bother,” said Dudley. “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” she said grudgingly. She had to admit that the kid was all right. Not only had he been more than helpful just now, but it was obvious he wasn’t one of them lazy kids who liked to lie around on the couch all day, playing with their stupid Playstation.

“You’re welcome,” said Dudley with a big smile.

“Well, I gotta get going,” she announced, and was out the door in a flash. And as she walked back to her car, a sudden ache in her shoulder gave her pause. “Ouch!” she said, as she rubbed the sore spot. So maybe her little accidenthad put a dent in her.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Tex had been working nonstop all morning, seeing one patient after another. Some days were like that: the whole town population suddenly seemed to have fallen ill. And on other days it was so quiet he practically didn’t see a single patient all day.

So he was glad when suddenly Vesta came sticking her head in the door.

“Am I glad to see you!” he said. “It’s been crazy all morning!”

“I’m not here to work,” she announced. “I’m here because I just fell down the stairs and now my shoulder hurts.”

He probably should have uttered a few words of concern that the aged mother of his wife had suffered a serious accident, but instead he inwardly cursed a receptionist who never came into work, and even when she did it was only to add to his workload instead.

“Take a seat,” he said curtly, as he’d just said goodbye to Ida Baumgartner and Blanche Captor had only just gotten up from her chair in the waiting room but now sat down again with a few muttered curses under her breath when she heard Vesta’s words.

“So what happened?” he asked once Vesta had closed the door and taken a seat.

“Are you deaf? I just told you. I fell down the stairs and now my shoulder hurts.”

“What stairs? The ones at home?”

“Yeah—the runner’s come unstuck. Loose screw. The kid will fix it,” she added.

“Dudley was there when it happened?”

“Yeah. Must have heard me take a tumble and helped me up. Very sweet of him,” she added, a little begrudgingly.

“Oh, he’s a very sweet kid,” Tex agreed. “I’m very lucky with a son like that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now are you going to take a look at my shoulder or are you going to keep flapping your gums about this so-called son of yours?”

Tex walked around his desk and invited his mother-in-law to take a seat on a little stool, then made her take off her tracksuit vest and carefully inspected the bruise on her shoulder.

“Why ‘so-called son?’” he asked. “Don’t you think Dudley is mine?”

“I don’t know, Tex,” she said. “And I’m sure once Alec runs that DNA test we’ll know more. But until we do, I’m not taking Dudley’s word for it.”

He frowned.“DNA test? What DNA test?”

“The one Marge asked Alec to run. So how is it? Am I going to live or what?”

“It’s just a bruise,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.” He was shocked to hear his wife and brother-in-law hadn’t told him about this DNA test—going behind his back like that.

“It’s this tracksuit,” said Vesta proudly. “Scarlett is always making fun of me that I like to wear these tracksuits but if she’d taken that tumble she probably wouldn’t have survived. Now are you going to give me something for the bruise? I haven’t got all day.”

So Tex prescribed his mother-in-law a cream to put on that bruise, but even as he was typing out the prescription, dark thoughts gathered in his mind—such as it was.

Chapter 31

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about Harriet?” asked Dooley.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, of course not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 32

Odelia had been working steadily, typing up her article about the attack on her cats, then an article about the mall development plans, and an article about her dad finding his son after all these years. And when finally she leaned back and stretched, she glanced around and was surprised to find that instead of four cats and one dog, suddenly she was in the presence offive cats and one dog.

“Clarice?” she said, blinking as she regarded the scrawny cat, who looked as if she’d been run over by a car. “What are you doing here?”

“Your cats hired me as their bodyguard,” Clarice growled. “What can I say? It’s hard to say no to Dooley.”

“I convinced her,” said Dooley, beaming.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Clarice. “Don’t rub it in. So what’s the plan?” she asked. “And what can you tell me about this so-called cat killer?”

“Nothing so-called about it,” said Brutus. “That guy did try to kill us.”

“He hasn’t killed you yet, has he? So he’s not a cat killer but a wannabe killer.”

“The plan is for my cats not to leave the house if they don’t have to, and if they do, always to be accompanied by either Rambo or Chase, who’s their official bodyguard.”

“Well, so now I’m their official bodyguard, so Chase is off the hook, and so is fatso over there,” she added with a gesture of the head in the direction of the sleeping dog.

“Are you sure you can handle this threat?” asked Odelia. She admired Clarice for her survival instinct and the gumption with which she went through life, but didn’t think she was a match against her cats’ attacker.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, toots,” said Clarice. “It’s the would-be killer you should feel sorry for.” And to show Odelia she meant business, she unsheathed a particularly sharp-looking long claw.

Odelia had to gulp at the sight of it.“All right,” she said. “So I’ll tell Chase he’s relieved of his duties. I am still going to ask you to never go anywhere without Rambo. My uncle vouches for him. Says he’s the best of the best, and I’d feel much easier in my mind knowing he’s keeping an eye on you.”

“All right,” said Clarice after a particularly scathing glance at the big dog. “We’ll let him tag along. For now.”

“Have you discovered anything new about this cat killer?” asked Max.

“Not yet,” she said. “And my uncle tells me he has no clue as to his identity or what he was doing in Mom and Dad’s house either.”

“Too bad,” said Max.

“So whatever you do, and wherever you go—please be careful, you guys, all right?”

She watched her cats walk out of the office with mixed emotions. She didn’t want to see them harmed, but she didn’t want to keep them locked inside all the time either—something they clearly hated.

But then Clarice turned and gave her a wink.“I’ll take good care of your babies, honey. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Me, too,” said Rambo with a yawn, and waddled off.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Marge had arrived home from work early, and decided to make herself a nice cup of tea before she got started on the backyard. The back part of the garden had become an eyesore, with roses that needed deadheading, and weeds that needed pulling.

Usually her mom took care of that kind of stuff, or even her husband, but lately both had been too busy to bother, and Marge didn’t mind a bit of gardening from time to time.

She didn’t exactly possess a green thumb, but she wasn’t certain death to plants either.

And she’d just popped a capsule into her coffee maker and poured water into the reservoir when suddenly she got the shock of a lifetime—literally! It was as if she’d touched a live wire, and her teeth clattered and she thought she smelled burnt rubber.

Moments later she was on the floor, and wondering what had happened. And when Dudley came running into the kitchen, exclaiming,“Marge! What happened—oh, my God!” she realized she’d been in one of those household accidents you always read so much about. The kind that allegedly, and according to insurance company statistics, kill no less than 120.000 people per annum in the United States alone.

“I-I think I electrocuted myself,” she said as she got up off the floor with Dudley’s assistance.

“Your hair!” he said, glancing up at her do.

She touched her hands to her hair, and it was indeed feeling a little frizzier than usual.

“How did this happen?” she asked, still feeling a little dizzy.

“I don’t know,” said Dudley. “I heard what sounded like a loud popping sound, and when I came running in I saw smoke coming out of the coffee maker—and your hair!”

Together they inspected the coffee maker, and indeed: it was completely fried.

“Must be faulty wiring,” said Dudley as he took a towel and pulled the plug from the wall socket. He held up the wire: it was blackened, the plastic having melted away. “You’re lucky to be alive, Marge,” he said earnestly. “Electrocution is no joke.”

“No, I don’t think it’s very funny,” she murmured as she staggered a bit, until Dudley helpfully led her to a chair and gently set her down.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear,” said the young man. “This is the second accident in one day. First Grandma Muffin and now you.”

“My mom?” she asked, alarmed. “What happened to my mom?”

“Didn’t she tell you? She fell down the stairs. She’s all right,” he quickly added when Marge made to get up. “She’s one tough old bird, that one.”

“She is very tough,” Marge agreed, but still didn’t like to hear she’d taken a tumble. Even tough old birds could break their necks falling down the stairs. “How did it happen?”

“The runner came unstuck,” said Dudley. “I already screwed it back in place again, don’t worry. This thing, though,” he added, glancing at the coffee maker, “is a total loss I’m afraid.”

“Thanks, Dudley,” she said, bringing a distraught hand to her head.

“That’s all right,” said Dudley. “I mean, I know you’re not particularly fond of me and all, and I totally understand that,” he hastened to add when she opened her mouth to protest. “To discover that your husband fathered a son once upon a time—that would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone. And I wanted to tell you that if you really don’t want me to be here—or to be part of your husband’s life—I’ll be gone, Marge. Absolutely.”

She studied the young man for a moment. He seemed genuinely concerned about her, and serious when he spoke these words. So she nodded.“You can stay,” she said. “For now,” she added when a big smile appeared on his face.

“Thanks, Marge,” he said. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Now let’s hope there are no more accidents,” she said as she got up and tested her legs.

“Yeah,” said Dudley. “I’d really hate for anyone else in my new family to get hurt.”

Chapter 33

Harriet had been thinking hard. Odelia’s words, even though she’d dismissed them at first, had returned to her when suddenly Max, Dooley and Brutus had gone missing for half an hour, only to return with Clarice in tow.

For a moment there, she’d actually panicked. She wasn’t used to her boyfriend abandoning her like that—usually it was she who did the abandoning, not the other way around, and to see Brutus take off like that, without telling her what he was up to, had given her a big shock.

And so in his absence she’d started ruminating on Odelia’s words. What had she said? Something about compassion? And how humans and pets who lost control over their bladders were basically more to be pitied than censored?

And so suddenly she’d seen this entire incident in a different light: Brutus and Dooley weren’t the bad guys here—they were the victims! Victims… of their wonky bladders.

And so as they walked along the sidewalk, Clarice out in front, scanning left and right and generally taking her bodyguarding duties very seriously, and Rambo behind them, generally looking extremely bored and wishing he were anywhere but there, she suddenly said,“Brutus, I think I owe you an apology.”

“What?” said Brutus, visibly surprised.

“Yeah, I talked to Odelia about your condition, and I see now that I judged you too harshly. You, too, by the way, Dooley.”

“Oh-kay,” said Brutus cautiously, clearly wondering what the catch was.

“So now I’m thinking you two should probably get some professional help.”

“Pro-professional… help?”

“I’m sure if you talk to Vena she’ll be able to give you something for that dodgy bladder of yours. You’re too young to let this kind of problem control your life, smoochie poo. And I know that Odelia suggested placing a plastic tub in the bedroom so you won’t have this kind of… accident in the middle of the night, but just know there is a more permanent solution. One that will make your bladder behave again—just like it used to.” And she proceeded to give her boyfriend a big smile of support.

“But… my bladder is just fine,” said Brutus.

“My bladder is fine, too,” said Dooley.

“I don’t need to go to the doctor.”

“Me, neither,” said Dooley.

“Now Brutus, I know you like to act tough and all, but there really is no shame in this. There are many, many people, and plenty of pets, who suffer the same thing you two do.”

“Suffer… what, exactly?” asked Brutus, wide-eyed now.

“Well, incontinence, of course. And I’m sure that if you just talk to Vena—”

“Incontinence!”

“What is incontinence, Max?” asked Dooley.

“It’s when you have no control over your bladder. Or your bowels.”

“But… I’m not incontinent!” Brutus cried.

“Now, now, pookie bear,” said Harriet, contriving a look of compassion. “There’s no sense denying the obvious. And no shame, you hear me? No shame whatsoever.”

“I’m not ashamed—my bladder works perfectly fine, and so does everything else!”

“Oh, munchkin,” said Harriet with a sigh. “I knew you’d react this way. Look, you don’t have to act tough for my sake. I’ll talk to Odelia and set up an appointment with Vena.”

“What?!!!”

“And I want you to know you have my full support, my precious angel. My love muffin. My cuddle bear. I’ll be right by your side throughout the whole procedure.”

“But I’m not—”

“Oh, I know, chickadee. I know.”

“But my bladder is perfectly—”

“Of course it is. Absolutely.”

“But, Harriet!”

“It’s all right, handsome. And I love you all the same—my incontinent honey bear.”

“Can you please cut down on the blather?” asked Clarice annoyedly. “I can’t focus.”

“Yes, Clarice,” said Harriet dutifully.

She wasn’t entirely happy about this new situation, but it was better than being attacked by some pyromaniacal cat killer. And since she’d try to be more compassionate from now on, she could see that even though Clarice was all bluster and snide comments, underneath all that was a scared little pussy. At least she thought there was.

So she sidled up to Clarice now, and said,“Clarice, honey, you don’t have to act tough on my account, you know. I mean, it’s perfectly fine to be yourself when I’m around.”

“What are you talking about, toots?” asked Clarice, her eyes flitting all over the place, like one of those Secret Service agents running along the car with their president. All that was missing now were a pair of snazzy sunglasses and a wrist mic to mumble into.

“What I mean is that we’re just girls together, you and I, and you can’t fool me.”

“Still don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You can drop the act, Clarice. Underneath that tough exterior you’re a sweet soul. I know that. And it’s all right to let it out.”

Clarice cut her a look that was anything but sweet.“I think you better get back in line now, before I give you a piece of my soul you won’t like.”

Doubts started to creep in when Harriet looked deeply into the wild cat’s eyes and saw not a hint of sweetness there—only an interior that was as tough or even tougher than the exterior. “I just want you to know,” she said, placing a paw on Clarice’s shoulder, “that I care. I care about you, Clarice, I really do.”

Clarice glanced down at the paw, then up at Harriet, and her expression darkened.“If you don’t remove that paw right now you’re going to lose it.”

“W-what?”

“I’m going to cut you, Harriet. I’m going to cut you so bad you’ll wish you were never born.”

“But… you’re supposed to protect me!” she cried, removing her paw as if from a burning stove, then quickly rejoined the others. “Clarice isn’t nice,” she announced with a pout. “I tried to be compassionate and she threatened me—actually threatened me!”

“I know,” said Brutus. “And that’s why she’s the best bodyguard in Hampton Cove. No offense, Rambo.”

“None taken,” said the big dog, lumbering along. “Hey, where can we find some food around here? I’m starving.”

Chapter 34

We’d finally arrived at Wilbur Vickery’s General Store, where our friend Kingman usually presides over the proceedings, and I was frankly eager to have a word with the voluminous cat. Often when we’re starved for information Kingman is the one who can provide that telling clue.

And as luck would have it there seemed to be some kind of impromptu cat choir meeting taking place outside Wilbur’s store: Kingman was there, of course, but also Buster, the barber’s Main Coon, Tigger, the plumber’s cat, Shanille, cat choir’s conductor, Misty, the electrician’s cat, Tom, the butcher’s cat, Shadow, who belongs to Franklin Beaver, the guy who runs the hardware store, and Missy, the landscaper’s tabby.

“Oh, hey, fellas,” said Kingman when we joined the meeting. “Shanille here has some exciting news to share.”

Shanille was positively glowing as she turned to us.“The mall is happening—it’s actually happening! Father Reilly has been asked to bless the first stone and he said yes!”

“So is that good news or bad news?” I asked.

“Good news for me,” said Clarice. “It means the downtown area of Hampton Cove will turn into a ghost town and the streets will be littered with garbage and there will be more rats than people around.” She smiled an icy smile. “And I do love me a juicy rat.”

“You love rats?” asked Buster.

“To eat, I mean,” said Clarice with a distinctly cruel grin.

Buster shivered, and so did the rest of the small company.

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating, Clarice,” said Shanille. “The mall will attract plenty of tourists, and the downtown area will thrive and local businesses will boom!”

“Boom as in go bust, you mean,” said Clarice.

“Oh, don’t listen to this Gloomy Gus,” said Shanille. “Father Reilly says it’s going to be just great. A brand-new future for our town!”

“It also means that Tex is going to be rich,” said Brutus. “He’s got a plot of land the mall developers want to buy,” he explained to the others.

“Ooh, so you’re going to be loaded soon,” said Kingman. “I wish Wilbur had thought of getting himself a piece of land when he had the chance. Then he could probably retire and we could move to Florida or some other place nice and warm.”

“I thought you didn’t like the heat?” I asked.

“I don’t mind the heat as long as there are plenty of great-looking females around,” said Kingman with a shrug. “And something tells me that Florida’s got some of the finest females in the country.”

“Oh, don’t be so vulgar, Kingman,” said Shanille reproachfully. “Besides, your human will be making a fortune soon, when all those tourists start coming into town.”

“You think?” said Kingman, his face lighting up.

“Of course! This mall is going to put Hampton Cove on the map. We’re all going to be rich—not just Marge and Tex—everyone!”

“I want to be rich,” said Tigger with a wistful smile. “Being rich sounds nice.”

“The only one who’s going to be rich is me,” said Clarice. “Rich in rats!”

“Oh, Clarice, just go away,” said Shanille, clearly not all that fond of the feral cat.

“I can’t go away—I’m guarding this quartet of bozos.”

Kingman turned to me.“So you took my advice? That’s great, buddy!”

But Shanille appeared less than impressed, judging from the way the corners of her mouth had turned down.“Are you sure this is a good idea, Max?”

“Of course it’s a good idea!” said Kingman. “It was my idea!”

“So… you’ve got a cat… guarding another cat?” asked Missy, who seemed confused.

“It sure beats a human having to guard a cat,” said Kingman.

“That’s true,” Shadow agreed with a curious glance at Clarice.

“So how does this work, exactly?” asked Buster, giving his fur a lick.

“Well,” I said, a little shamefacedly, “since we were attacked in our own attic Odelia has hired Rambo over there and then we ourselves have retained Clarice’s services.”

“So let me get this straight,” said Shanille. “First you got Chase to guard you—ahuman. Then adog, and now Clarice? How many bodyguards does a cat need?!”

“Oh, you’re just jealous, Shanille,” said Harriet snippily.

“Jealous! I’m stunned, that’s what I am! Stunned! Since when does a cat ask a human to be their bodyguard—or a dog, for that matter? That’s just… wrong on so many levels!”

“It is a little weird,” Misty agreed.

“You know I can hear you, right?” said Rambo now, waddling up. “And for your information, this is just as awkward for me as it is for these guys. What do you think the Dog Guild is gonna say when they find out I’m guarding cats—cats, for crying out loud!”

I was making myself as small as I could. Clearly my reputation was hanging by a thread, and so was the reputation of my housemates. Shanille was probably right. No cat allowed themselves to be guarded by a human or a dog—or another cat. It wasn’t done.

“Look, what we’re actually here for,” I said, deciding to change the subject before things got completely out of hand, “is to find out more about the death of Charlene Butterwick’s uncle. He died yesterday morning, and Odelia wants to know if anyone of you might have seen something, or heard something?”

But my friends weren’t so easily distracted. “Even if my life were in danger, the last thing I’d do was to entrust my life and safety to a dog,” said Shanille, still harping on the same theme. “No offense, Mr. Rambo.”

“None taken, Miss Shanille,” said the big dog good-naturedly. I saw that he was staring intently at the bags of dog kibble Wilbur Vickery had on sale this week.

“So no one knows anything about Charlene’s uncle?” I asked. “Nothing?”

“Come on, guys,” said Clarice. “Let’s get out of here. First rule of bodyguarding: never allow your charge to stay in the same place for too long. Gotta stay mobile!”

Frankly I didn’t mind skedaddling, as Shanille and the others had now fully embraced the bodyguarding theme and were running with it. Even Kingman was starting to see the error of his ways when he suggested retaining Clarice’s services as our protection detail.

And as we set paw for home, I felt slightly deflated. Not only weren’t we getting anywhere with our investigation, but our assailant was still out there, and our reputations, such as they were, were now thoroughly being reduced to less than nothing.

“Don’t worry, Max,” said Rambo, as he waddled up next to me, leaving a trail of goo on the sidewalk. “They’ll come around to this whole guard dog thing. A new concept always takes a while to catch on. But before you know it this will become the new craze, and then every cat in Hampton Cove will want a dog to guard them.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, sure. It’s always like that. Just look at the pogo stick. First people think it’s weird, and then they embrace it and everybody wants one. Thing starts flying off the shelves.”

I didn’t want to tell him that comparing a dog to a pogo stick was probably not doing his species justice, but his words definitely sounded like music to my ears.

When you live in a small town like Hampton Cove, your reputation is everything, you see. And so I very much cared what other cats thought of me.

“Just you wait and see,” said Rambo. “This time next month they’ll all come knocking on my door, offering me purses of gold if I’ll be their bodyguard.” And to emphasize his words, he dropped a big glob of blubbery goo onto the sidewalk.

Somehow the gesture seemed to detract from the confidence he was exuding. Then again, I’m not well-versed in analyzing trends, and I’ve never used a pogo stick in my life, so what did I know?

“So are we there yet?” asked Rambo, his breathing a little labored, I thought.

“No, I’m afraid we’re not an inch closer to figuring out who might have killed Charlene’s uncle—or evenif he was killed,” I said.

“I mean—are we home yet? I’m hungry.”

And so I learned another valuable truth about dogs: some of them have a one-track mind. And that’s not me being critical of my canine brethren. Merely stating a fact.

But lucky for Rambo we’d finally arrived home, and as we walked along the narrow stretch between the two houses belonging to our humans, suddenly I heard a loud scream. And when we raced to track the source of the scream, we came upon a grisly scene: Tex was lying on his back, and blood was streaming down his face.

“I’m hit!” he said. “Help me, I’m hit!”

Chapter 35

“Oh, Dad—Daddy! What happened?”

Tex groggily glanced around, and as if through a haze saw his son come running out of the house. Dudley knelt down next to him.

“I’ve been hit,” he repeated. “Someone shot me. Right… here…” He gestured vaguely in the direction of his head, then started feeling even woozier than before.

“Oh, Daddy, Daddy, please don’t die,” said Dudley. “We just found each other—please don’t die on me now.” He was sniffling and tears now flowed from Tex’s own eyes, too.

“I’m sorry, Dudders,” he croaked. “But they-they got me good this time. I think it’s the end for me. Tell Marge… tell her I love her, will you? Tell her… I’m sorry.”

And as if summoned by some unseen hand—or possibly the cats having told her about what had happened—his wife now came hurrying up to them.

“Tex!” she screamed. “Tex, no!”

“Goodbye, Marge,” he said weakly. “This is the end for me. Tell Odelia… I love her…”

Just then, Odelia materialized, looking as stricken as the others were all feeling.

“Dad!” she said, her voice distinctly wobbly. “Daddy, no!”

“I’ll always be up there… watching over you,” he said, pointing heavenward with his final remaining ounce of strength. “Good… bye.”

“Oh, will you stop whining, you sissy,” suddenly a loud voice intruded upon his most tragic death scene. He frowned as he recognized his mother-in-law’s voice.

“Vesta,” he croaked. “Take care of… my family… will you?” He would have told her he loved her, but since he didn’t, he didn’t.

“It’s just a flesh wound, you idiot!” And to show him she meant what she said, she pressed something very stinging to his ear.

“Ouch!” he said, jumping up. “What are you doing, you silly woman!”

“I’m disinfecting the tiny cut on your ear, you wimp,” said Vesta, then held up a piece of metal and brought it in for his close inspection. “A piece of your lawnmower,” she said. “How many times have I told you to buy yourself a new one? This piece of junk was always going to come apart sooner or later.”

“Tex! She’s right!” said Marge. “It’s only a tiny flesh wound where the blade of that lawnmower hit you!”

He frowned as he took a closer look at that piece of blade Vesta had shoved under his nose. It looked very sharp indeed.“That thing cut me?” he asked.

“Yes, it did,” said Vesta. “You’re one lucky dude. This could have been your noggin,” she added, pressing an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball to his ear and making him wince.

He scrambled into a sitting position and surveyed the scene: there the lawnmower was, now minus a part of its blade, and there the cat contingent sat, all eyeing him piteously. And next to him, his family: Marge, Vesta, Odelia and… his son Dudley.

“So I’m not going to die?” he asked finally.

“No, you’re not!” said Odelia, and threw herself into his arms.

“Oh, you silly, silly man,” said Vesta, but she was smiling as she said it.

“I don’t get it,” said Marge. “It’s been one accident after another. First Ma falling down the stairs, then me electrocuting myself, and now this. What’s going on?”

“And don’t forget about my car breaking down,” said Odelia. “Or the cats almost being burned alive yesterday.”

“That was no accident,” said Vesta.

“It’s my fault,” said Dudley suddenly, looking rueful. “Since I arrived in this family accidents started to happen.”

“Oh, nonsense,” said Tex, now pressing the cotton ball to his own ear. “Like Vesta said, that lawnmower was going to break down sooner or later, and that coffeemaker has seen better days, too, as has that old pickup of yours, Odelia. And as far as that runner is concerned, I screwed that thing into place myself… fifteen years ago!”

“We probably should replace it,” said Marge, giving her mother an apologetic look.

“I’m just glad you guys are fine,” said Odelia. “And accidents happen, Dudley,” she added. “It’s not your fault.” She smiled at her brother, and it warmed Tex’s heart to see both of his kids getting along so well. It’s just the kind of thing a loving father likes to see.

“Let’s just hope this was the last of the accidents,” said Vesta. “I’m a tough old girl, but even I didn’t enjoy tumbling down those stairs.”

They all laughed at that, relief making them a little giddy, and even Tex was laughing along. And then Dudley suddenly said,“Is it just my imagination or is the number of cats growing in number? I thought you had four cats and now I see… five and a dog?”

“Oh, that’s Clarice,” said Odelia. “She’s a street cat and she’ll be keeping an eye on the others. And that’s Rambo—he’s a retired police dog and he’ll be their guard dog for a while. At least until this cat killer is finally caught.”

“I don’t know what this place is coming to,” said Marge. “Cat killers, if you please. Now who would try and kill our cats? You really have to be a sicko to try and do that.”

“Yeah, only a real sicko would do that,” Dudley agreed as he cast a curious look at Clarice, who stared right back at him, brazen as dammit, as was her habit.

Rambo, meanwhile, was already disappearing into the house, probably eager to get his nutrients in. Good thing that Tex was about to become a millionaire, he thought, because that dog was going to cost him an arm and a leg in dog chow if he kept this up.

“Where is Chase?” he asked, getting up from the freshly mown lawn with a groan.

“Still at work. He’ll be here soon,” said Odelia, supporting him.

“I’ll do that,” said Dudley, and took over from his sister. Tex proudly leaned on his son’s arm. It felt good to have a son, he thought. And as they walked into the house he thought this was probably one of the proudest days of his life. Well, except that he’d just made a total fool of himself over that lawnmower accident, of course. Or that his wife had almost died by electrocution, or his mother-in-law had practically broken her neck falling down the stairs. Or that his daughter had almost died in a head-on collision.

But apart from that? Proudest day of his life. And then he suddenly stumbled, and hit his head against the kitchen table and the world as he knew it instantly turned dark.

Chapter 36

“I don’t trust that guy,” said Clarice the moment Dudley and Tex were out of sight.

But since moments later Tex went down again and everyone convened in the kitchen to try and revive him, I momentarily forgot about her words.

Tex turned out to be all right, though, and when five minutes later he came to, he said he’d clumsily got tangled up in his own feet and hit his head against the kitchen table.

Against Tex’s protestations Marge called a doctor, just to make sure he was all right and no permanent damage had been done, and by the time we all returned next door, Tex lay tucked into bed, sleeping the sleep of the dead—though hopefully not too dead!

“He’s a bad one, that,” said Clarice once we were all installed on the couch, with Odelia moving around in the kitchen preparing dinner.

“Who are you talking about, Clarice?” asked Harriet.

“That Dudley, of course. Who else? I can see it in his eyes. He’s up to no good.”

“He seems like a great kid,” I said.

“He’s very nice,” Harriet chimed in. “Last night he even gave me some of that special p?t? Marge likes to keep for special occasions.”

“And he cleaned out our litter boxes and put some extra litter inside—the nice-smelling kind,” said Brutus.

“He gave me a boost when I had trouble jumping on top of the couch,” said Dooley.

“I don’t care if he’s the perfect boy scout,” said Clarice. “I’m telling you now that he’s bad news. Also, I’m pretty sure he tripped up Tex just now, causing him to hit his head.”

“He did? I didn’t see that,” I said.

“That’s because your eyes aren’t as sharp as mine,” said Clarice, making me bristle a little.

“My eyes are perfectly fine,” I said.

“Your eyes may be fine, but Dudley’s got you all bamboozled. And now you only see what he wants you to see. And that goes for the entire Poole family.”

We let those words sink in for a moment, and just then Dudley walked in and said,“Need a hand, sis?”

He got a radiant smile in return from Odelia.

“No, that’s all right, Dudley,” she said. “Chase will be here any minute. It’s his turn to cook tonight. I’m just making sure we’ve got all the ingredients for spaghetti.”

“Chase only cooks spaghetti?” asked Dudley with a laugh.

Odelia made a comical face.“Don’t laugh. It’s his specialty.”

“I like spaghetti. So if what you’re saying is true, Chase is just my kind of guy.”

“Won’t you stay for dinner?”

“You don’t mind?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then sure,” said Dudley, and took a seat at the kitchen counter.

And as he and his sister continued to shoot the breeze, I saw Clarice study him all the while, never taking her eyes off him. And when Dudley glanced in her direction once or twice, her eyes narrowed, and her upper lip pulled back in a snarl. If Dudley was worried about this obvious display of enmity, he didn’t show it.

Until suddenly he got up and walked over to Clarice.“So this one isn’t yours?” he asked.

“No, Clarice doesn’t belong to anyone,” said Odelia. “But she drops by from time to time, so you might say I’ve half-adopted her.”

“She’s not very clean, is she?” he said, inspecting our friend more closely.

“That’s what living on the street will do.”

“Are you sure it’s safe for your own cats? I mean, she’s bound to be teeming with all kinds of parasites and other vermin. Fleas and lice and who knows what else.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” said Odelia, considering Clarice for a moment.

“Fleas and lice have a tendency to jump from one carrier to the next, sis. It only takes them a fraction of a second to contaminate Max and the others, not to mention your home. Do you really want to wake up tomorrow morning with your head full of lice?”

“Pet fleas or lice don’t jump over to humans,” said Odelia, but I could see that Dudley’s comments had given her pause.

“If I were you I’d get rid of her,” he said now, then shrugged. “Just my opinion. You do what you want, of course. Your cats, your decision.”

Chase arrived home, then, and as the trio ate their dinner, I could see that this time it was Odelia who kept darting anxious glances at Clarice from time to time, no doubt wondering about all those fleas and lice and other parasites jumping all over her couches now, and all over her four cats.

“You have to watch out for this guy,” Clarice repeated at a certain point.

“But why do you say that?” asked Harriet. “He looks perfectly nice to me.”

“Because he reminds of my own human, that’s why,” said Clarice. “He has the exact same look in his eyes. And my own human was a sweetheart, or at least I thought he was, until one day he drove me into the woods, tied me to a tree, and left me to die.”

“How did you escape, Clarice?” asked Dooley, interested, even though he’d heard the story many times before. “Is it true you had to gnaw off your own paw to get away?”

Clarice held up two perfectly fine paws.“No, Dooley. I don’t know who invented that story, but that’s definitely not what happened. Who’d want to gnaw off their own paw?”

“Oh,” said Dooley, looking slightly disappointed.

“No, a kind-hearted couple happened to pass by the spot where my human left me, and rescued me. I would have stayed with them, but by then I was frankly over humans, so I ate my fill, said thank you very much, and I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“Good for you,” said Brutus with a nod.

Rambo, who’d been fast asleep, now woke up and yawned, causing a very foul smell to waft in our direction.

“What did I miss?” he asked.

“Clarice was just telling us how her human abandoned her and tied her to a tree,” said Dooley excitedly. “But then a couple of very kind humans came by and saved her from certain death! Isn’t that the most beautiful story you’ve ever heard, Rambo? I think I like it even better than the one about you gnawing off your own paw, Clarice.”

“Oh, brother,” Clarice muttered.

“I was once tied to a tree,” said Rambo. “So I yanked that sucker out of the ground and ran off with it.”

“You yanked a whole tree out of the ground?” asked Harriet.

“Yes, ma’am. Big tree, too. Just gave it a yank and that was it for Mr. Tree. Game over.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Clarice, shaking her head.

“Well, you better believe it, cause that’s what happened. And now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll have a bite to eat. I’m starting to feel faint. Hunger has that effect on me.”

And he waddled off, leaving a trail of goo on Odelia’s nice hardwood floor. It glistened.

Chapter 37

“Look, I like her, too, Max, but Dudley is right. Who knows where Clarice has been—and I would never forgive myself if you guys came down with some bug that she’s transmitted to you.”

“I’m pretty sure no bug would dare to attach itself to Clarice,” I said. “Or a parasite.”

“It’s all right, Max,” said Clarice. “You don’t have to defend me. If they want me gone, I’ll go.”

“I’m sorry, Clarice,” said Odelia. “But you must understand that—”

“All humans are the same? No, yeah, I absolutely understand.”

“Oh, please don’t take it like that,” said Odelia.

“Just forget about it,” said Clarice, and walked out the pet flap and was gone.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” I told my human.

“I’m sorry, Max,” she said. “But I’m just doing it to protect you.”

“Right,” I said, and then followed in Clarice’s wake, hoping I could still catch her. “Clarice! Hold up!” I yelled when I caught up with her at the end of our street. She turned and I could tell that Odelia’s unexpected betrayal didn’t sit well with the tough cat. “I’m so sorry,” I said. We were sitting under a streetlamp, and its diffuse light lit up Clarice’s mottled fur. I didn’t see any sign of any parasites, though, or fleas or whatever.

“I knew this was going to happen,” she said. “This Dudley kid sees me as a threat. Cause I’m on to him, and you’re not. So he got rid of me—plain and simple. And Odelia, that gullible fool, allowed herself to be played for a sucker.”

“But I don’t understand. What could Dudley possibly have to gain by getting rid of you. What does he want?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Max? He wants to destroy you.”

“Destroy us? What do you mean?”

“The accidents, dummy! I’ll bet that’s all him.”

I shook my head.“But that can’t be. He’s been nothing but kind to us. And Tex is so happy that he finally has a son.”

“Oh, Max,” said Clarice with a sigh. “Look, this really is none of my business, but I care about you, so I’m going to tell you this once, and then I’m out of here.” She fixed me with an intense look. “Watch out for this Dudley kid. Okay? Watch your back, and watch your humans’ back.”

“But…”

“I gotta go. Take care of yourself, and thanks for sticking your neck out just now.” She smiled. “No one has ever stood up for me like that before. I appreciate it, big buddy.”

“Don’t go, Clarice. I’m sure if I just talk to Odelia—”

“Don’t sweat it, Max. I’m used to being screwed over by humans. See ya around.” And with these words, she walked away.

And as I returned to the house, thinking about everything Clarice had said, I suddenly saw a car pull over in front of Marge and Tex’s home. Dudley then came walking out, talked to whoever was driving the car, and accepted a package from the driver, then the car took off before I reached the house and could see who was behind the wheel.

And by the time I arrived, Dudley had already returned indoors.

Could Clarice be right? Could Dudley be a threat to us and to our humans? But why? What was he playing at?

And so it was a slightly downcast Max who walked in through the pet flap again, and installed myself on my favorite spot on my favorite couch.

“Is she gone?” asked Dooley sadly.

“Yeah, she’s gone,” I said, just as sadly.

“I like Clarice. I like her very much.”

“Me, too,” I said. “I think she’s just great.”

“And I don’t think she’s got parasites, Max.”

“No, I don’t think so either, Dooley.”

Brutus and Harriet had already returned next door, and were probably getting ready to go to bed. With Chase being relieved of guard duty, and Clarice having been dismissed, that only left Rambo as our guard dog, and Odelia didn’t think it was a good idea to entrust the safety of her cats to the old dog, so she’d told us there was to be no cat choir tonight.

It wasn’t fair, I thought, but then I’m just a cat, right? And clearly Odelia wasn’t going to take my advice, as the Clarice incident had clearly shown.

So I simply closed my eyes and decided to take a long nap—preferably until this whole ordeal had somehow sorted itself out—or longer.

And I probably would have made good on my promise if I hadn’t been awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of the pet flap flapping not once but twice. And suddenly Harriet and Brutus materialized in front of me.

“You have to come, Max,” said Harriet, sounding worried. “It’s Marge. She’s fallen into some kind of coma.”

They were words that had the effect of making me jump off that couch and immediately follow my friends, with Dooley right behind me.

Moments later we were in the upstairs bedroom, where Tex was bent over his wife’s prostrate body, trying to revive her. Outside, the sounds of an approaching ambulance could be heard, and Vesta, who’d been hovering nearby, now hurried down the stairs to open the front door for the paramedics.

“Marge!” said Tex, extremely distraught. “Please, Marge, wake up!”

But Marge didn’t respond. What was more, she was white as a sheet, and looked as if she’d already passed on to meet her maker.

“Oh, dear,” said Harriet in hushed tones. “This is bad, isn’t it? This is very, very bad.”

And immediately Clarice’s words came back to me, and when I turned and saw Dudley hovering in the doorway, looking on, I thought I saw a small smile flit across his handsome face. Then, when he saw me looking at him, he gave me a wink, and put his finger to his lips in the universal gesture of ‘Keep quiet…’

Oh, dear. So Clarice had been right all along!

Chapter 38

It was only when the ambulance siren stopped right outside the house that Odelia woke up with a start. She swung her feet from between the covers and hurried to the spare bedroom, which had a window looking out onto the street. When she saw that the ambulance was parked right outside her parents’ house, her heart skipped a beat.

And then she was crying,“Chase! Wake up!” and was thundering down the stairs, hurrying next door. As she flitted through the kitchen door, she almost fell over Harriet.

“I was just coming to get you,” said the Persian. “It’s your mom. I think she’s… dead.”

“Oh, God, no!” she said, and arrived upstairs just in time to see the paramedics strap her mother onto a stretcher and then carry her downstairs.

“What happened?” she asked her dad, who looked as white as her mom did, maybe even whiter.

“I don’t know,” said Dad. “She… started convulsing—woke me up. And then suddenly she breathed a long rattling sigh and… was gone.”

“Oh, Dad! Don’t tell me she’s…”

“I managed to bring her back, but she’s practically unresponsive.” He shook his head. “Looks like catatonic shock to me.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know, honey. Could be something she ate that she responded badly to, or something she drank…”

“But you both ate the same thing, right?”

“We all ate the same thing,” said her grandmother. “And drank the same thing, too.”

“Mom does get up sometimes, in the middle of the night,” said Odelia. “And she usually makes herself a glass of warm milk, right? Could that be…”

“I don’t know,” said her dad, and then he was following the paramedics. He turned, and said, “I’m going to the hospital. If you want to come, better come now.”

Chase, who’d arrived at the bottom of the stairs, raked his fingers through his shaggy mane. “What’s going—Marge? What the hell!”

“Drive my daughter to the hospital, will you, son? “said Tex, placing a hand on Chase’s shoulder, then hurrying off so he could ride along in the ambulance.

Chase glanced up at Odelia, and she must have looked extremely distraught, for his face fell.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Gran, and gave Chase a pointed look. “You drive. I’ll call Alec and tell him to meet us at the hospital.”

“If you want, I can drive,” said Dudley.

Gran gave him a grateful smile.“Thanks, Dudley. That’s very kind of you. Now let’s go, people. And don’t forget to lock up the house. There will be no neighborhood watch tonight.”

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“I think they may have forgotten about us, Max,” said Dooley as we watched the car drive off, Dudley behind the wheel and the rest all strapped in tight.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said.

We’d thought they would surely take us along to the hospital, but now it looked like they’d totally forgotten about us.

“It’s only natural,” said Harriet. “They’re not thinking straight—none of them are.”

“I hope Marge is all right,” said Brutus. “I like Marge. In fact I think she’s probably the best of them.”

“Yeah, she is,” I agreed.

I wondered if I should tell the others about what I saw, then figured it was my duty to. So I told them about what Clarice had said, and also about the scene I’d witnessed when I got back from saying goodbye to Clarice, and even Dudley’s eerie little smile.

“Maybe Clarice is right,” said Harriet now. “If she says she saw Dudley trip up Tex, that’s what must have happened. I mean, why would she lie about a thing like that?”

“And you say this person gave something to Dudley?” asked Brutus.

“Yeah, I was too far away to see what it was, but it looked like a small parcel.”

“Does Amazon Prime do midnight deliveries?” asked Harriet.

“I doubt it,” I said.

“But… why would Dudley try to kill Marge?” said Dooley, and we all looked at him, as he’d said what we’d all been thinking, and now the words hung heavy in the air.

“I don’t know, Dooley,” I said. “But it’s too much of a coincidence for this to happen the day after he moved in.”

“Too much of a coincidence for all these accidents to happen all of a sudden,” said Harriet. “Odelia’s car, Vesta falling down the stairs, Tex almost slicing off his ear, Marge getting electrocuted…”

“What is this guy playing at?” asked Brutus the million-dollar question. “What does he want?”

Suddenly Rambo came waddling through the hole in the dividing hedge, looking sleepy.

“What’s going on?” he asked in his big, booming voice. “Did I miss something?”

“Rambo, you’re a police dog, right?” I said.

“And you better believe it,” he said with a yawn as he sank down on his haunches and started licking his ass.

“What do you make of Dudley?”

He shrugged.“Looks like a nice kid.”

“What if we told you that he might have just killed Marge?” said Brutus.

He frowned at this.“Killed Marge? You mean Marge is dead?”

“Not yet, but it’s not looking good,” I said.

“Oh, Max,” said Dooley. “I don’t want Marge to die. She’s so nice!”

“I know, Dooley. I know.”

Rambo frowned some more, which caused his eyes to disappear into the swaths of skin that formed his face.“Well, if he did try to kill Marge, he probably did it when he dumped those drops into her milk.”

We all stared at the big dog.“What?!” I asked, once I’d recovered from the shock.

“Yeah, I saw him through the kitchen window. Dumping some kind of drops in a glass of milk, then turn around and offer it to Marge. They were laughing and talking so nice I just figured he’d given her something to help her sleep.”

“Maybe that was the parcel he received,” said Harriet, turning to me.

“Must be,” I said.

So there you had it. Dudley had tried to kill Marge. But why? And, most importantly, how were we ever going to convince our humans that Dudley was the bad guy?

Chapter 39

The ambulance raced along the deserted streets, Dudley driving the car that carried Odelia, Chase and Gran, following right in the ambulance’s wake.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at the hospital, which was located one town over, in Happy Bays. As luck would have it, Tex’s friend and colleague Denby Jennsen was the duty doctor, and immediately he and his team started working on Odelia’s mom.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family were left nervously pacing the waiting room, anxious for some news.

Dudley made himself useful by fetching coffee and sugary snacks. He seemed to be least affected by the terrible events as they unfolded. A rock amid all of the turmoil.

Odelia felt grateful that he was there, providing some much-needed support for her dad, who looked devastated by his wife’s sudden collapse and brush with death.

Suddenly a familiar figure dropped by in the form of Uncle Alec, followed by Charlene. They’d both clearly been fast asleep, as Uncle Alec’s few remaining hairs stood akimbo, and Charlene’s own curly blond tresses were plastered to the side of her face.

“Any news on my sister?” asked Uncle Alec the moment they swept into the room.

Odelia shook her head sadly. No news. Not yet.

“How did this happen?” asked her uncle as he took a seat next to her and Chase.

“I have no idea,” she said. “Maybe something she ate—food poisoning?”

“Oh, honey,” said Charlene, as she took Odelia’s hands in hers and squeezed.

And so they sat for a while, trying to keep their nerves under control.

“Where are the cats?” suddenly asked Gran.

“I-I totally forgot about them,” said Odelia.

“So they’re all home alone?”

“They’ve got Rambo to keep an eye on them,” she said, understanding her grandmother’s meaning perfectly. With this cat killer on the loose, even the house wasn’t safe for them.

“I’m sure your cats will be fine,” said Dudley, proving himself to be a real pillar of strength to the family in this, their darkest hour.

“I shouldn’t have kicked out Clarice,” said Odelia now.

“Wait, you kicked out Clarice?” asked Gran. “Why?”

Odelia shrugged.“Dudley made a valid point about Clarice bringing all kinds of parasites and vermin into the house, and even infesting our own cats. So I put her out.”

Gran directed a not-so-friendly look at Dudley, who pretended not to notice.“That was probably the worst kind of advice he could have given you,” said the old lady.

“I know, I know,” said Odelia, rubbing her eyes. It hadn’t been her best decision ever, and she now felt thoroughly bad about asking Clarice to leave. She felt even worse about forgetting to bring along her cats now. But in the commotion after finding her mother unresponsive, she’d completely lost her head.

“Clarice will be fine,” said Chase now, patting her hand. “And so will your cats.”

“What’s taking them so long?” Dad said. “This is a bad sign, right? It can’t be good.”

“You tell me,” said Uncle Alec. “You’re the doctor, Tex, so you should know.”

“Okay,” said Dad, nodding. “So let’s just assume it’s a good sign. A very good sign.” And he went right on pacing, this time taking a turn along the hospital corridor.

“So how’s the project?” asked Odelia. She had zero interest in the mall project, but anything would do to take her mind off her mom’s condition. “Is the mall happening?”

But Charlene shook her head.“The developers called me this afternoon. The results came back from a feasibility study they ordered six months ago and it wasn’t good. According to the study, building and operating a second mall in the area simply isn’t economically viable so close to the Hampton Keys mall, so they’ve taken a radical decision and they’re going to drop the project entirely. Cut their losses while they can.”

“What, no mall?” asked Chase.

“No mall,” said Charlene, then shrugged. “Maybe it’s for the best. I wasn’t a big proponent of the project, and I don’t think I would have gotten a majority in the council.”

“The mall isn’t happening?” suddenly asked Dudley, looking stunned.

“No, it’s been shelved by the developers,” said Charlene. “Not economically viable.”

“But… so Tex’s plot of land…”

“Oh, Tex will definitely be able to sell,” said Charlene. “But not at the inflated prices the developers were willing to offer. I think we’ll go back to our housing development idea. Turn the area into a great neighborhood for young families. Much better that way.”

“But… no!” said Dudley, looking stricken. He’d gone red in the face and was striking the palm of his hand with his fist.

“It’s all right, Dudley,” said Odelia. “Mom and Dad didn’t really need that money.”

“Though it would have been nice,” said Gran.

It didn’t matter anyway—not if Mom wouldn’t make it. Immediately Odelia tamped down on the thought. Mom had to make it. She just had to.

And just then, Denby Jennsen appeared, looking tired but radiant.“It’s all right,” he announced happily. “Marge will be fine.” They all got up and crowded around the doctor. “Looks like a case of food poisoning to me,” he said. “Though we’ll have to wait for the lab results to know for sure. But she’s doing great—if you want you can go and see her now.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, and immediately were off in the direction indicated.

“Mom!” said Odelia the moment they set foot in her mother’s room. “Oh, Mom!” And then she was hugging her mom, who looked as if she’d been put through the wringer.

“I’m okay,” said Odelia’s mother, her voice a little weak.

“What happened?” asked Uncle Alec.

“I don’t know,” said Mom. “I woke up in the middle of the night with a tummy ache that just seemed to get worse and worse. And then suddenly I must have lost consciousness. And when I woke up I was right here, in the hospital.” She smiled. “So it’s me who should be asking you guys what happened.”

“Oh, honey,” said Tex, his face teary. “I knew you’d pull through. I just knew it.”

“Of course I pulled through. I’m a doctor’s wife, aren’t I? I’m in good hands.”

Tex nodded, and then he was blubbering like a baby.

The scene was a happy one, but it made Odelia wonder what was going on. First this long string of accidents they’d been subjected to and now this? What was happening?

And that’s when she noticed that Dudley… was gone.

Chapter 40

“We have to warn them!” said Harriet.

“But how?” I said. “They’ll never believe us. They think Dudley is the greatest thing since apple pie.”

“Then we go on a hunger strike,” said Harriet decidedly. “They’ll have to listen to us if we simply stop eating.”

“A hunger strike!” said Brutus, who likes his three square meals a day.

“It’s the only way, twinkle toes. People don’t like it when their cats stop eating. It makes them go nuts.”

“I’ll go nuts if I can’t eat.”

“It’s a small sacrifice to make, sweet cheeks.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” said Rambo. “You go on your hunger strike, and in the meantime I’ll make sure this Dudley character doesn’t come anywhere near you.” And as he said this, I saw he was eyeing our respective bowls eagerly.

“Oh, no,” I said. “If we’re going on a hunger strike you’re going on a hunger strike, too.”

“But I’m not even part of the family!” said Rambo.

“You’re part of this family now, Rambo. So you’re striking right along with the rest of us.”

“So how do we do this?” asked Brutus reluctantly.

“Simple,” said Harriet. “We stop eating.”

“But aren’t we going to die if we stop eating?” asked Dooley. “Cats need to take regular nourishment or else they die,” he explained.

“We can do without food for a couple of days,” said Harriet. “Besides, I’m sure that our humans will cave pretty quickly. They wouldn’t want to have our deaths on their conscience.”

“So maybe we should stop drinking, too?” said Dooley. “I already did it once, and it was fine.”

“You only stopped drinking for a couple of hours,” I pointed out. “Now we’d stop drinking for possibly days, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. No food for a couple of days is fine, but no water? That’s bad.”

“You mean we’d die?”

“Yes, Dooley. If we don’t drink, we’ll die for sure, from dehydration.”

“But I don’t want to die, you guys.”

“Look, we’re not going to die, all right?” said Harriet, who wasn’t a big fan of all this backtalk. “We’re simply going to tell them that we’re on a hunger strike, and that’s it.”

Brutus’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I get it! So wetell them we’re not eating, but secretly we’ll keep on eating right along!”

“No, Brutus,” said Harriet primly. “We’re not going to touch our bowls.”

“But… for how long?”

She threw up her paws.“How should I know? For as long as it takes!”

“Gandhi used to go on hunger strikes,” said Dooley, clearly having done some research into the guy since Brutus had mentioned him. “Gandhi liked to go on hunger strikes all the time. And he never died.”

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

Brutus swallowed away a lump. He still seemed uncomfortable with the whole prospect.“Dooley?” he asked quietly, nudging my friend. “Is there nourishment in pee? I mean, you said this Gandhi fellow doesn’t eat, and I know for a fact he likes to drink his own pee, so the guy must be onto something, right? Does he live around here? Maybe we should go talk to him?”

“Oh, Brutus,” said Harriet with an expressive eyeroll.

And just when we’d finally decided on our next course of action, suddenly a car pulled over outside, and we all hurried into Marge and Tex’s front room to see if our humans had arrived home already.

Much to our surprise, though, it wasn’t our humans but… Dudley, arriving in a cab.

He seemed in a hurry, too, for he came stalking up the little footpath to the house, and let himself in with the latchkey Tex had proudly given this newly acquired son of his.

“What do we do!” Brutus said as we heard the key turn in the lock.

“I don’t know!” I said, and then we all turned to Rambo, our resident police dog, but the latter simply shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, fellas. I’m retired.”

“Oh, Rambo!” said Harriet with a loud groan.

But then Dudley was already entering the house, and running up the stairs.

“What is going on?” asked Brutus as we listened to the kid stomping around upstairs. “What is he up to?”

It didn’t take long for us to realize what was going on, for moments later Dudley reappeared, this time carrying a duffel bag, and making for the front door again. And he probably would have left if he hadn’t changed his mind at the sight of the small, slightly dilapidated goatherd figurine Tex and Marge like to keep in the front room.

Dudley glanced at the thing, then up at the painting of a gnome Tex has got hanging over the mantel, and changed course.

He stepped into the room, grabbed the figurine and dumped it into his suitcase. Then he took the painting from the wall and was about to abscond with it when Rambo sneezed.

Yes, dogs can sneeze, and so can cats.

Dudley looked up, startled, and it didn’t take him long to discover our presence behind the couch.

“Well, look at you,” he said, and I saw he had a very nasty expression on his face as he said it. “Four cats and one stupid old dog.” And as he stared down at us, suddenly he got a certain gleam in his eyes that I didn’t like to see there. It was the kind of gleam that spells doom. Probably the same kind of gleam that often comes into Dracula’s eyes just before he decides to sink his teeth into the neck of another innocent young maiden.

“Max?” said Dooley.

“Yes, Dooley?”

“I don’t like the way Dudley is looking at us!”

“Me, neither!”

“You know what?” said the floppy-eared young man, “I think it’s time for me to finish what I started.” And he kicked the door to the room closed with his foot. He then expertly picked me up by the scruff of the neck, the procedure giving me a distinct sense of d?j?-vu, and dumped me into the couch. I probably should explain that Marge and Tex’s couch is one of those couches with a hidden compartment inside, where they like to store stuff they don’t need, such as: doilies, old curtains… And now yours truly, too!

In short order, he rounded up Harriet, Dooley and Brutus, and dumped us all in the couch, then slammed the thing shut, the couch springs and hinges squeaking creepily!

“You know? This reminds me of something,” said Brutus suddenly.

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

And when suddenly I smelled smoke, I knew exactly what it reminded me of. Yesterday morning in the attic, when Motorcycle Man had tried to set us on fire!

Chapter 41

“I’d dump you in there, too, but you’re too big and stupid, you old mutt,” we heard Dudley say, presumably addressing our mighty guard dog.

“Max! Why did you let him catch you?” said Harriet, indignation clear in her voice.

“Why didyou let him catch you!” I returned.

“Because it all happened so fast! And besides, he’s Tex’s son.”

“But we already decided he’s up to no good,” I said. “So why did we let ourselves be duped like this?”

“I think because deep down we find it hard to believe that Tex’s son would do a thing like this,” said Dooley. “I think deep down we all want to believe that Dudley is a good person. That deep down he loves us just like the others do, and that deep down he means well. I think deep down—”

“Oh, will you stop it with your ‘deep down’ already!” Harriet cried. “We’re in deep doo-doo right now, if you hadn’t noticed!”

She was right. The flames were licking at the couch that was our new home, and if I know anything about couches it is that they are not flame-resistant. In fact you could probably argue that the modern couch is a fire accelerant, with all the synthetic materials it’s made of.

“Let’s put our backs into it, you guys,” I said. “On the count of three, and push!”

And push we did, but the couch wasn’t budging—not a single inch!

“Again! Push!” I said, feeling like a football coach leading his team to victory.

But no dice. Obviously Dudley had put some heavy object on top of the couch, preventing our escape.

“Maybe we can scratch our way out?” Brutus suggested.

And so we hurriedly started looking for the couch’s weak spots. Unfortunately a couch, in case you didn’t know, consists of particleboard, covered with polyurethane foam, covered with upholstery. Polyurethane and upholstery are no match for four highly motivated cats with very sharp claws and teeth, but particleboard is. So we could scratch all we wanted to, but we’d never manage to make it through. At least not in time to save our lives.

“So we just wait,” said Harriet. “We wait until the fire does the work for us, and then we escape.”

It sounded a lot like her plan from the day before, when we were locked inside that old chest in the attic. If her idea had sounded too good to be true then, it certainly sounded like the lousiest idea I’d ever heard now. But since I didn’t want to undermine morale, I kept quiet. After all, what was the alternative: to announce to my friends that we would all soon be burnt to a crisp?

The smoke was coming in through the cracks already, and that orange glow was intensifying, as was the heat surrounding us.

“Max?” said Dooley.

“Mh?”

“I just want to say that you’re the best friend a cat could ever hope to find. And if we don’t make it—”

“Don’t talk like that, Dooley.”

“If we don’t make it, I just want to say that it was an honor to be your friend.”

“It was an honor for me, too, buddy.”

“I have a confession to make,” suddenly said Harriet.

Oh, no—not again with the confessions!

“I peed in all of your bowls last night,” she said, sounding contrite.

“Peed in our bowls?” asked Brutus. “But why?”

“Because you peed in mine, okay?! So I peed in yours. And now I realize it was childish of me, and petty, and I’m sorry.”

“Iaccidentally peed in your bowl,” said Brutus. “And so did Dooley.”

“And I did it on purpose, so there. Now can we put this whole peeing episode behind us already and move on?”

“You mean to say I actually drank your—”

“I said let’s move on!”

“Look, if it’s good enough for Gandhi,” Dooley began, but the rest of his words were lost when suddenly the entire couch seemed to explode in a roar of fire and smoke!

On closer inspection, the roar hadn’t been produced by the couch but by… Rambo!

And as we all stared into the face of the old bulldog, suddenly another familiar face hove into view: Clarice!

“What are you waiting for?” she said. “The bus? Get out of there already, will you? Move it!”

We didn’t need to be told twice, and jumped out of the burning couch as fast as our legs could carry us!

And as we looked back, we saw that it wasn’t just the couch that was on fire, but the carpet, too, and even one of those nice piecrust tables Marge is so fond of.

“Now let’s put out this fire,” said Clarice, proving herself a great fire chief.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” asked Harriet.

“Just follow my lead,” said Clarice, and started to pee on the flames!

“I can do that,” said Brutus, and took up position next to Clarice and started relieving himself.

Now I can tell you that cats are smallish animals, and our bladders are equally limited in size, as is the contents they can hold. So our urinary contributions didn’t do much to fight those flames. It actually took that big bulldog Rambo to really make a difference. Whereas our little trickles had merely made that fire laugh in our faces, once Rambo opened the floodgates, those same belligerent flames didn’t stand a chance!

And so by the time a car pulled up outside, and moments later the entire family Poole came charging in, what they found were the smoldering remnants of a couch, a carpet and a piecrust table and five cats and a dog performing a victory lap.

“What’s that smell?” asked Gran. “Like a combination of smoke and… cat pee.”

“And dog pee!” I cried. “Don’t forget about all that beautiful, beautiful dog pee!”

And I reciprocated Rambo’s high five with an even higher five of my own.

Chapter 42

“Wha-what happened?” Tex said as he took in the devastation of his once immaculate front room.

“Dudley did this,” said Max. “He tried to set us on fire—again. But not before he stole your goatherd figurine—the one you glued back together—and your gnome painting.”

Odelia dutifully translated Max’s words for those unable to understand him, drawing gasps of shock from Uncle Alec, Charlene and of course her dad.

“My son did this?” asked Dad, flabbergasted.

“Um, Tex,” said Uncle Alec, placing a large hand on Odelia’s dad’s shoulder. “I just got a text from Abe Cornwall. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I had the lab run a DNA test and the result came back negative. Which means that Dudley… he isn’t yours, buddy.”

“About that,” said Dad, giving his brother-in-law a very stern look. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I mean, doing a DNA test behind my back— Wait, what did you just say?”

“Dudley Checkers? He’s not yours.”

“Dudley isn’t my son?!” Dad cried, staggering a little.

“I knew it!” said Gran.

“But… he looks just like me! My spitting image!”

“No, he doesn’t,” said Mom, who was recovering fast from her attack of food poisoning.

“Oh, and one other thing,” said Max. “Rambo saw Dudley put something in Marge’s milk. And I saw him receive a suspicious package just before. So I think it’s safe to say that Dudley tried to kill Marge.”

“What?!” Marge cried. She turned to her husband. “Your son tried to poison me!”

“He’s not my son,” said Dad defensively.

“I knew it!” Gran repeated.

“And Clarice saw how Dudley tripped up Tex and made him knock his head against the kitchen table,” Harriet said now.

“And I’m pretty sure he probably was to blame for those other accidents, too,” said Max.

“We put out the fire with our pee,” Dooley announced happily. “Though Rambo peed the most.”

“This is too much,” said Gran, shaking her head. “And all under the nose of my watch.” She pointed a finger at her son-in-law. “Your son tricked my watch, Tex! He tricked us!”

“He’s not my son!” said Dad.

“So where is he?” asked Uncle Alec. “We need to stop him before he leaves town.”

“I don’t know,” said Max. “He set us on fire and then he skedaddled.”

Odelia faithfully played translator again, causing her uncle and her boyfriend to share a look of concern.

And then they both sprang into action, grabbing their respective phones and hurrying out of the house to see if they couldn’t catch up with Dudley.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Gran, and took out her phone, too. “The watch will catch him!” And then she was off, too.

Odelia cast a glance at her cats and their guard dog and they all gave her a nod of agreement.

“We’ll catch him,” Max announced.

Odelia then crouched down next to Clarice.“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said. “I guess I allowed myself to be bamboozled by Dudley, too. Can you ever forgive me?”

Clarice gave her a cold look.“Forgive you? Maybe. But I’ll never forget.” But then she grinned, and said, “Of course I’ll forgive you, Odelia. And now let’s get the bastard!”

So while Mom and Dad surveyed the devastation that Dudley’s actions had caused to the house, three teams started what is commonly termed a dragnet: the police department, led by Uncle Alec and Chase, the local neighborhood watch, led by Gran, and a troupe of cats, led by… no one in particular.

“He can’t have gotten far,” said Odelia as she glanced up and down the street.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Max. “He arrived in a cab, and I’m pretty sure he kept the cab waiting, so he’s probably on his way to New York by now, or wherever he’s going.”

Odelia nodded, and got busy calling the different cab companies that covered Hampton Cove. She got lucky with the third one, but unlucky in that she didn’t have her pickup, but lucky again when her grandmother came driving up, Scarlett riding shotgun. Gran rolled down the window and yelled, “Wanna ride with the watch, honey?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Odelia, and soon she was filing into the car, followed by five cats and one dog, causing Scarlett to screw up her face and yell, “So smelly!”

But then Gran put her foot down on the accelerator and they were all thrown back against the seats.

“Where are we going?” asked Gran after a moment.

“He’s heading to New York,” Odelia said. “In a cab. And I’ve got the cab’s number.”

“Better tell your uncle,” said Gran. “So he can call the cab company and tell the cab driver that he’s got a fugitive in the back of his cab.”

So Odelia did as she was told, and as they took the on-ramp to I-495, the Long Island Expressway, suddenly two squad cars joined them: one was Chase’s, the other one Uncle Alec’s, and so now the three teams were organizing a joint pursuit.

“I like this,” said Brutus. “Almost like being in an action movie.”

“My money is on your grandmother,” said Clarice. “She clearly got the skills.”

Odelia didn’t think her gran had the skills, but what she certainly had was a lack of respect for the rules and regulations covering road safety, which gave her the edge.

And as they were zooming along the road, Odelia did some quick thinking.“So if Dudley tried to kill Mom, and Dad, and you, Gran—and me, with that car crash… he must have had a reason, right? And seeing as he left the hospital and packed his bags the moment Charlene announced that the mall project was scrapped, I’m assuming it must have had something do with those millions he thought Mom and Dad were coming into.”

“So he sweet-talked his way into our family,” said Gran. “And tried to get rid of us one by one, hoping to lay his hands on that money?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“The bastard,” said Scarlett. “Wait till I get my hands on that rotten kid.”

“No, wait till I get my hands on that no-good kid,” growled Gran.

“Let’s just try to catch him first, shall we?” Odelia suggested. “And not get ourselves killed in the process—Gran, watch it!” she added when Gran practically rear-ended a truck she apparently felt should get out of her flight path.

Odelia had Clarice on her lap, and was tickling the cat behind the ears, causing her to purr happily.

“You know?” said Clarice. “When you kicked me out I just figured it was par for the course—just another nasty human. But you’re not like most humans, Odelia. You and your family? You’re all right. And I just hate that kid for what he put you through.”

“I’m the one to blame,” said Odelia. “I should have done my due diligence. Who lets a person into their home, into their life, believing the stories they tell, without seeing if they really are who they say they are? I really dropped the ball on this one. Big time.”

“I didn’t like him from the start,” said Gran, shaking her head as she sat hunched over the wheel, her foot all the way down to the metal, the engine a high whine.

“That’s because you don’t like anyone,” said Scarlett as she checked her lipstick in the little visor mirror.

“Not true. I like you!”

“That’s what you say.”

“No, I really do!”

“Well, I don’t like you.” When Gran’s jaw fell, Scarlett laughed. “I’m kidding! You’re my buddy, buddy. And now will you please keep your eyes at the road, for Christ’s sakes?”

“I wonder how Dudley knew about Mom and Dad’s piece of land, though, and the mall development,” said Odelia.

“We’re about to find out,” said Gran, and gestured with her head to a cab that had shown up in front of them—its taillights glowing in the darkness, the Taxi sign on the roof drawing them in like a homing beacon.

And before Odelia could tell her grandmother to play this cool, Gran was already leaning on the horn.

“Just rear-end him,” said Scarlett.

“No, don’t rear-end him!” said Odelia.

“Just hit him, Vesta—hit him!”

“Don’t hit him!”

“She’s going to kill us, Max,” said Dooley sadly. “And we’re not going to be able to pee our way out of this one.”

“I’ll just give him a little nudge, shall I?” said Gran, her tongue between her lips in utter concentration. “Bend that fender?”

“Get the sucker!” said Scarlett, clearly not the good influence on Gran that Odelia had thought she was.

Gran had sped up, and was now alongside the cab. The driver was glancing over, and making circular motions with his finger against his temple, and yelling something Odelia couldn’t hear. And then she saw Dudley, and her so-called brother did not look pleased to see her.

“Just hit him!” said Scarlett. “Do it the watch way!”

But luckily for them, a police siren suddenly sounded behind them, as Uncle Alec and Chase had finally caught up with them after the crazy chase. And the cab driver quickly pulled over to the shoulder of the road.

“Oh, bummer!” said Gran, who’d just yanked the wheel to force the other car off the road. So instead she just parked in front of the cab, then backed up so their fenders touched, making sure the cab driver couldn’t pull a fast one on her and get away.

“Why does your son always have to go and spoil the fun?!” Scarlett cried.

Odelia, though, heaved a sigh of relief, and so did five cats and one dog.

And as they got out of the car, Odelia saw to her surprise that Dudley was making a run for it!

And soon five humans, five cats and one dog were in hot pursuit of the prodigal son.

Scarlett soon dropped out of the impromptu race, as her high heels weren’t exactly conducive to this kind of frenetic activity. And then Gran had to give up, too.

“Stitch in my side!” the old lady yelled. “Go get him, hun!”

Uncle Alec was the next one to give up, and then it was just Chase and Odelia, and of course the entire pet contingent.

Dudley kept darting anxious glances over his shoulder.

“Give it up, Dudley!” Chase shouted.

“Get away from me!” Dudley screamed.

“Just stop!” said Odelia. “There’s nowhere for you to go!”

“Leave me alone!”

Suddenly Rambo, of all pets, seemed to have found his second wind, for he came bounding up from the rear, and as Odelia watched on, he raced up to the fugitive, and before Dudley knew what was happening, the giant Bulldog tackled him from behind!

And then five cats were upon the kid, with Clarice, especially, digging her claws in.

And by the time Odelia and Chase arrived, their hot pursuit had turned into a rescue mission, as Odelia’s pets clearly weren’t holding back now that they’d got their guy.

“Help!” said Dudley as he tried to fend off the cat frenzy. “Heeeeelp meeeeeee!”

“I told you to stop,” said Odelia, and had to physically drag Clarice off the guy. “That’s enough,” she said, and her cats all downed weapons. Rambo, still sitting on the man’s back, had made himself comfortable, and produced a sonorous but happy bark.

“He’s asking permission to bite,” said Max.

“No—no biting!” said Odelia.

Rambo barked some more.

“And now he’s asking permission to drool.”

“Drool?”

And without further ado, Rambo started drooling all over the back of Dudley’s head. Soon the kid was looking like a drowning victim. And as he spat out the drool, he cried, “Yuck! It’s in my mouth!”

“Serves you right,” said Chase, and got out a pair of nice shiny handcuffs, then launched into his arrest procedure with visible satisfaction.

And as Dudley was hauled off, Odelia asked,“Why did you do it, Dudley?”

Dudley shrugged.“The money, what else? Millions and millions, or so I’d been told.”

“Told by who?”

He was still spitting out goo.“Frank Butterwick. I used to work for him, and he knew everything about this mall project. They’d asked him to install a pool on the roof.”

Odelia narrowed her eyes at the kid.“So you’re Brett? Brett Cragg?”

He grinned.“Now aren’t you the clever one… sis.”

Odelia glanced at Chase.“Better add one more charge to Brett’s charge sheet.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“The murder of Frank Butterwick.”

“Oh, the old fool had it coming,” said Dudley, proving himself to be anything but the son of Odelia’s dad.

And when she thought about all he’d done, Odelia suddenly found herself hauling off and slapping the kid across the face.

Dudley moved his jaw.“I guess I deserved that.”

Epilogue

“This stuff is great,” said Brutus.

“Yeah, amazing,” Harriet agreed.

“When did Tex get so good?” asked Dooley.

“One word,” I said with a smile. “Catering.”

Since Tex wasn’t always to be trusted when performing his feats of culinary mastery behind the grill, Marge had decided not to take any chances this time, and had hired a caterer to organize the family’s next barbecue.

It wasn’t every day, after all, that you survive an attempt on your life, and she wanted to celebrate her new lease on life in style, and without Tex’s regular grilling mishaps.

We were all in the backyard, Tex looking a little sad now that he didn’t have a pivotal role to play, and the rest of the family looking ecstatic at the quality of the food they were able to sample.

“You know what, Tex?” said Chase as he clapped his future father-in-law on the back. “Why don’t you and I take a barbecue course together? That way we can tackle this problem once and for all.”

The doctor’s face lit up. “You mean that? You would do that for me?”

“Of course! Anything for my dad,” said the cop, causing the older man to wince.

“So Dudley confessed, huh?” said Charlene as she sampled some of the dumplings and closed her eyes at the exquisite taste.

“Yeah, he confessed everything,” said Uncle Alec, who was tackling a very large steak with relish. “The murder of your uncle, the attempted murders of my entire family, the attack on the cats—the whole enchilada.”

“And all for a little bit of money,” said Scarlett. “So sad, right?”

“Not a little bit,” Charlene corrected her. “Last time I talked to the developers they mentioned some pretty big numbers. Too bad the deal fell through.”

“Maybe it’s all for the best,” said Marge, who looked happy and healthy again. “Money seems to bring out the worst in people, as we have all been able to witness firsthand.”

“Money would have bought me a nice new car,” grumbled Gran, who was picking at a piece of fish filet. “A nice Escalade for the watch.”

“How is your Gofundme going, Gran?” asked Odelia.

“Oh, don’t ask,” said Gran. “So far we only got one donation. Ten bucks. Ten bucks won’t buy me a new car.”

“If you want I can get you a good deal on a secondhand police cruiser,” said Uncle Alec.

“No, thanks,” said Gran. “The watch isn’t going to drive around in an old cop car. We’re going to stand on our own two feet, showing everyone we’re just as good at catching criminals as you cops are.”

“Suit yourself,” said Uncle Alec with a shrug, and squirted a goodish helping of tartar sauce on his steak.

Clarice, who was also lying on the porch swing, now yawned and said,“I think I’ll get going, you guys. All this hominess and coziness is making me antsy.”

“See ya, Clarice,” I said.

“Thanks again for saving our lives,” said Harriet.

Clarice held up a paw in response, then wandered off.

Rambo, who was lying at our feet, opened a lazy eye.“Oh, is Clarice going already?”

“Yeah, she’s got things to do and cats to see,” I said with a smile.

“If it hadn’t been for her instructions, I would never have gotten you out of that couch,” said Rambo.

Clarice had said she returned when she got a bad feeling about this whole Dudley business, and figured she might as well give Odelia another chance—which was very nice of her. And very… compassionate, which had become Harriet’s favorite new word.

“Look, I think we should suggest to Odelia that she adopt Clarice,” said Harriet now. “I mean, it’s thecompassionate thing to do, right?”

See what I mean?

“Clarice will never do it,” said Brutus. “She’s an independent soul and doesn’t want to be tied down.”

“Maybe if we ask her nicely?”

“She won’t do it, I’m telling you.”

“Maybe if you ask her?”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because she likes you, Brutus. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“I’m sure that’s all in your head, sweet peach.”

“No, it’s not. A cat knows these things.”

“Just your imagination.”

“Oh, Brutus, don’t you deny that you like her, too. I’ve seen how you look at her.”

“I don’t look at Clarice!” said Brutus with a light laugh.

“Yes, you do. Just admit it!”

“I’m not admitting anything!”

“Because it’s true!”

And as Harriet and Brutus jumped off the swing, to pursue their‘compassionate’ conversation elsewhere, I heaved a sigh of relief. I like Harriet and Brutus, I really do, but sometimes a cat just wants to have a little peace and quiet.

And I’d just closed my eyes for a nap, when Dooley said, “Max?”

“Mh?”

“So Dudley wasn’t really Tex’s son, right?”

“No, he wasn’t. Just pretending to be his son so he could pocket those mall millions.”

“So… why did Tex believe he was his son?”

“Because Dudley claimed that one of Tex’s old girlfriends was his mother.” This was the reason Dudley had been going through Tex’s old photo albums: looking for an old girlfriend he could believably cast in the role of his mother. And the reason he tried to kill us was because Frank Butterwick had mentioned some of the rumors surrounding Odelia’s cats: that we acted as our human’s unofficial guards. So he figured he’d better get rid of us before we could cause him any trouble, just the way he tried to get rid of the entire Poole family, figuring those millions would end up in his pocket that way.

Okay, so Dudley was a killer—I never said he was a clever killer, though.

And of course he’d gotten rid of Charlene’s uncle because he was the only person in town who knew him under his real name. And he would have spoiled his big plan.

“So… maybe this so-called mom of Dudley—this Jaqlyn Checkers—really did get pregnant? And maybe she really did have a son or daughter whose dad is Tex?”

I looked up at this.“You really think so?”

Dooley shrugged.“Tex believed it. So something must have happened back then to make Dudley’s story so plausible.”

We both looked out across the backyard at Odelia’s dad, who now sat chatting happily with Chase about the barbecue course they were going to take together.

I shook my head.“I really hope no more kids come crawling out of the woodwork.”

“I’m just saying, Max.”

“I know, buddy. And maybe you’re right.”

“Humans are always full of surprises, aren’t they?”

“Oh, yes, they are.”

And as we both glanced at Odelia, we wondered how she would react if Tex’s real son suddenly showed up on our doorstep. I had a feeling she’d welcome him with open arms, because that’s the kind of person she is. That’s the kind of people all the Pooles are. And that’s probably why I like them so much.

They’re good people, and sometimes bad people try to take advantage of them. But that’s what they’ve got us for, right?

To keep an eye on them.

To be their watchcats.

Because watching out for our humans is what we do.

“Max?” asked Rambo.

“Mh?”

“I’m hungry.”

I smiled.“Of course you are.”

“Can you ask Odelia for more food?”

“Absolutely, buddy.”

In fact we don’t just watch out for our humans, we even watch out for our humans’ dogs. Now how weird is that?

“Thanks,” said Rambo when Odelia dropped a pork chop between his front paws.

She patted his head.“You know?” she said. “Maybe we’ll adopt you.”

Wait… “What?!”

“Chase is always going on about having a dog, so let’s adopt Rambo,” she said.

“I wouldn’t mind,” said Rambo with a casual shrug. “As long as the food’s good? Sure.”

Odelia must have noticed how Dooley and I were staring at her, absolutely flabbergasted, and she grinned.“Don’t look at me like that, you guys. It’ll be fun. And you like Rambo, don’t you? Sure you do.”

And with these words, she returned to her family, still grinning, and proving once and for all that humans don’t understand the first thing about cats. Nothing!

“Max?” said Dooley.

“Yes, Dooley?”

“Let’s elope.”

“Why not?” I said, and hopped down from that swing.

“We can live off our urine,” said Dooley as we walked off and left that treacherous and very uncompassionate Poole family behind. “Just like Gandhi. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy: you drink the pee, then you pee, then you drink the pee, then you pee, and then you drink the pee, and so on and so on.”

“That’s not a self-fulfilling prophecy, Dooley.”

“A pee-petuum mobile, then?”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said.