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28. PURRFECT FOOL

Chapter 1

It could have been the perfect nap. The nap to end all naps. Unfortunately there was one thing that detracted from absolute perfection. Or I should probably say one bug: a big, fat fly kept buzzing around my head, making it impossible to enjoy the full benefit of my slumber.

I’d already given this fly the evil eye, but the darn thing didn’t seem to be all that quick on the uptake, and just kept at it. Giving it the cold shoulder didn’t help either, and so finally I saw no other recourse than to swat at the annoying thing, making my displeasure known not only in word but also in deed.

“Hey, cool your jets, bro!” said the fly, and buzzed off to rob some other pet of sleep.

And so I finally closed my eyes to pick up where I left off when something else intruded upon my much-yearned-for peace and quiet.

Gran came stalking in through the sliding glass door and slammed a newspaper down right next to me, then proceeded to take a seat—unbidden, I might add.

“Will you look at that!” she exclaimed, causing me to suppress a groan of annoyance and direct a casual glance at said newspaper.

“What is it?” I asked, not in the mood for reading an entire newspaper article and preferring to get the gist straight from the horse’s mouth—in this case my human’s gran.

“It’s that no-good son of mine,” the old lady announced, clearly not all that happy with whatever that son of hers had been up to this time. For those of you not in the know, Gran’s son is none other than Alec Lip, chief of police in our neck of the woods.

“What did he do?” I asked, more out of politeness and the faint but diminishing hope that this would speed up the process of getting Gran to take her leave and leave me to my hopes and dreams of that catnap I’d been looking so forward to.

“He says he’s going to get married! Married, if you please!”

I yawned.“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not in the same year my granddaughter is tying the knot it isn’t!” said Gran. She poked a finger at the newspaper, causing it to crumple. “He’s stealing Odelia’s thunder, that’s what he’s doing! How dare he!”

“So maybe you can organize a double wedding? Would save you time and money.”

“A double wedding!” Gran cried, clearly aghast at the prospect. “Never in my life will I attend this wedding. Never, you hear me!”

“I hear you,” I said, wincing a little, for Gran was even more voluble than usual.

Dooley, who’d been attracted by all the hullabaloo, came prancing over from the pantry, where he’d done his business in his litter box. I could tell he’d done number two, for he had that distinct spring in his step and that merry gleam in his eye he gets when successfully managing to exorcise the product of his mastication and digestion process.

“What’s going on?” he asked when he saw Gran’s unhappy face. “Did someone die?”

“No, but someone soon will,” said Gran with a dark frown at the newspaper.

“Oh, no!” said Dooley, his face falling. “I didn’t even know you were sick, Gran. Is it cancer? Or old age?”

Gran gave my best friend a withering look that would have made a more discerning cat wince.“I’m not dying. And for your information, I’m not old. It’s my son.”

“Oh, no! Does Uncle Alec have cancer?”

“Nobody has cancer!” she cried. “He’s getting married!”

Dooley gave me a look of confusion. Usually when humans get married it’s cause for cheer, the prospect of a party making everyone happy. But Gran seemed to liken the occasion to a funeral, which was a novel way of looking at the sacred institution.

“Oh, I get it,” said Dooley. “Uncle Alec is sick and dying and he wants to get married before he dies.” He shook his head sadly. “I liked Uncle Alec. I’ll be sad when he’s gone.”

“Please talk some sense into your friend, Max,” said Gran. “I don’t have the patience.”

“Uncle Alec isn’t dying, Dooley,” I explained. “He’s getting married, and Gran isn’t happy about it.”

“But why?” asked Dooley, an understandable question. But then his face cleared. “Oh, I know! Charlene is pregnant! And Uncle Alec doesn’t want her to have the baby out of wedlock. Just like in that Lifetime movie we saw last week, when Derek the company boss had to marry his secretary Francine when she announced she was pregnant, only she wasn’t pregnant, and only said she was so he would marry her. And then when he found out she wasn’t pregnant after all, he immediately had the wedding annulled.”

Gran gave Dooley a pointed look.“You know, Dooley, that’s something that hadn’t occurred to me. But you’re right. It’s the only possible explanation. Charlene must be expecting a baby. Why else would they suddenly announce their wedding plans?”

“Or it could be that Charlene is dying of cancer,” Dooley suggested. “And Uncle Alec wants her to die as his wife.”

The prospect of her son’s betrothed dying a slow and painful death seemed to please Gran, but then she shook her head. “Nah. He would have told me if she was sick.” She shrugged. “Which means I’m going to be a grandma soon.”

“But… aren’t you a grandma already, Gran?” asked Dooley.

“I hope it’s a boy,” said Gran, ignoring Dooley. “Or twins. A boy and a girl, maybe.”

Dooley gave me a look of supreme worry. For some reason he has this idea that if a newborn enters our family, they’ll get rid of all the cats. And no matter how many times I’ve assured him this is simply not the case, he keeps coming back to the horrifying notion.

“Anyway,” said Gran, getting up and grabbing her newspaper. “Just thought I’d let you know. I can’t tell the rest of the family how I feel about this wedding nonsense, so I hope you’ll keep your mouths shut. Not a word to Alec, you hear? Or the others, for that matter.”

“My lips are sealed, Gran,” I said.

“Your lips look fine to me, Max,” said Dooley, studying my lips intently.

“It’s just an expression, Dooley,” I said. “It means I won’t tell anyone what Gran just told us.”

“That goes for you, too, Dooley,” said Gran. “If word gets out that the groom’s mom opposes the wedding, there will be hell to pay.”

And with these words, she stomped off again, her face a thundercloud.

Somehow I had the feeling it wouldn’t be long before the entire town of Hampton Cove would know exactly how Gran felt about the wedding. We might be able to keep our mouths shut, but would Gran?

Chapter 2

“So… let me get this straight,” said Dooley. “Uncle Alec is getting married to his girlfriend because she’s dying? Or becausehe’s dying? Or because she’s pregnant?”

“I have no idea, Dooley,” I said, still holding out a faint hope to have that nap.

“Or maybe Charlene is dyingand she’s pregnant!” His furry face fell. “I hope she’ll be able to deliver the baby before she dies, Max.”

“I’m sure that Uncle Alec and Charlene are simply getting married because they love each other,” I said. “And that there is no pregnancy and that no one is dying.”

“Or it could be that Uncle Alec is pregnant,” said Dooley, my reassurances landing on deaf ears as usual. “He looks like he’s pregnant, with that very big belly of his.”

“Uncle Alec is pregnant?!” suddenly a cry sounded from the kitchen. I looked up and saw that Harriet and Brutus had arrived, the other two cats that make up our household.

Brutus is a butch black cat, and also Harriet’s boyfriend, who’s a white Persian. They both looked flabbergasted by this piece of news.

“Uncle Alec can’t be pregnant,” I said with a laugh. “Men don’t get pregnant, you guys.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Max,” said Brutus. “Nowadays everybody can get pregnant.”

“He’s right,” said Dooley. “I saw a documentary on the Discovery Channel the other night about a man who delivered a healthy baby boy.”

“So let me get this straight,” said Harriet. “Uncle Alec is pregnant… with a boy?”

I heaved a deep sigh. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get any naptime anytime soon with this lot launching into a discussion on my human’s uncle being pregnant.

“As I understand it now,” said Dooley, “Uncle Alec is pregnant, and his future wife Charlene is also pregnant,and dying, which is why they’re tying the knot in a hurry.”

Harriet’s eye went a little wider. “Uncle Alec and Charlene are getting married?”

“Yeah, looks like it,” I said. At least that part of the story was undoubtedly true.

“But… he can’t get married!” said Harriet. “Odelia and Chase are getting married. Uncle Alec can’t steal her thunder—it’s just not fair!”

“Exactly what Gran said,” I agreed, nodding. I watched that fat fly flit hither and thither, and was already yearning for the good old days when it had been just me and it.

“We have to do something about this, you guys!” said Harriet, getting all worked up now. “We can’t let this wedding take place!”

“It has to take place,” said Dooley. “Because Charlene and Uncle Alec are both dying, and they’re both pregnant, too, so they have to get married before it’s too late.”

“Dooley!” said Harriet. “Are you serious?!”

I felt it was time to intervene before things got completely out of hand.“Look, the only thing we know for sure is that a wedding has been announced and will be taking place between Uncle Alec and Charlene,” I said. “The rest is just idle speculation.”

“But—” said Dooley.

“Idle speculation,” I repeated emphatically.

As I’d expected, my words acted like oil on the raging waters of Harriet’s indignation and Dooley’s rampant imagination, and for a few moments a pleasant silence reigned.

Then Dooley said,“Maybe Odelia is pregnant, too, and very soon she’ll kick us all out, because everybody knows that cats and babies don’t mix, so there’s that to consider.”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said, and that big fly, which had taken advantage of me being distracted by landing on the tip of my nose, said, “If you want, I can go and find out for you, cat.”

And I said,“Wait, what?”

The fly shrugged and said,“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘Fly on the wall’ before? Well, I can be that fly for you, cat.”

So I said,“Sure. Why not?”

Anything to get rid of this fly. Now if only I could get rid of my housemates, but somehow I had a feeling this wasn’t in the cards.

Chapter 3

The life of a fly is often a pretty lonely life—and a short one, too. So Norm, as he buzzed off on his mission, was actually happy with this change of scenery. His brethren and sistren might content themselves by eating dirt, but Norm was that rare fly who had, from the moment he was born, entertained higher aspirations. He’d always envisioned himself as that rare breed of fly: the adventurous type. And overhearing those cats speculating about their humans, Norm had smelled an opportunity and grabbed it.

So first he buzzed off in the direction of the house next door, where that old woman had disappeared to, and decided to pick up some little tidbits of raw intelligence there, just like James Bond would, if James Bond was about half an inch in diameter and consisted of an exceedingly hairy body, six hairy legs, two compound eyes and some extra-sensitive antennae. Though in all honesty all that Norm had in common with James Bond was a hairy chest and that can-do attitude your average British spy has in spades.

And he was in luck, as Grandma Muffin had just grabbed her purse and was on her way out the door, so he simply followed in her wake, hoping it would lead to something.

He landed on top of her head, before being rudely swatted away—the life of a fly consists mainly of being swatted away—and ducked into her car just as she did.

“Stupid fly,” Grandma Muffin muttered as she gave Norm one of her trademark dark looks, then started up the engine, and floored the accelerator, causing the car to lurch away from the curb at a much higher rate of speed than traffic cops like to see.

Moments later, it seemed, they were already cruising through downtown Hampton Cove, and when the older lady steered her car into an underground parking garage, Norm was buzzing with anticipatory glee. Looked like he was in for a real treat!

Maybe a meeting with some Deep Throat type informant? A showdown in the bowels of what looked like a boutique hotel? He didn’t know what would follow, but had a feeling it was going to be good. So it was with a slight sense of disappointment that he watched Grandma Muffin simply park her car, get out and slam the door then walk off.

They took the elevator up to the hotel lobby, and once again Norm’s hopes soared: a secret meeting in one of the hotel rooms with a foreign spy? A dead drop in one of the hotel’s garbage bins of some secret documents? So when the old lady Max called ‘Gran’ met up with a gorgeous redhead with plunging d?colletage in the hotel lobby, and the both of them walked into the dining area, he knew this was it. The redhead was probably a Russian spy, here to hand over the secrets to the Russian rocket program, or maybe even spike Grandma’s drink with a little-known nerve agent or truth serum!

So when both women took a seat in the outside dining area and ordered drinks from a suspicious-looking waiter— a Korean spy? A Chinese double agent?—he was on the lookout for the little vial containing the deadly nerve agent, and ready to warn Gran!

“We gotta do something, Scarlett,” said Gran. “We have got to stop this wedding.”

“But why?” said the woman named Scarlett, tossing her red curls across her shoulders. She was dressed in a provocatively cleavaged red dress and red high heels, her lips a very bright Scarlett and looking every bit the sexy Russian secret agent.

“Why? Are you kidding me? They’re going to ruin Odelia’s wedding!”

“I think it’s pretty cute. And you can always make it a double wedding,” said Scarlett, taking a sip from her drink—a flat white, if Norm had followed the proceedings closely. So far no little vials with deadly nerve agents were in evidence but that could happen any moment now.

“Trust me on this, Scarlett. Alec wouldn’t be getting married if he wasn’t being coerced—if Charlene wasn’t putting a knife to his throat.” She slapped the table, causing her own drink—hot cocoa with plenty of cream, from the looks of it—to dance up and down. “That woman’s got something on my son and I want to know what it is.”

“Isn’t it possible that they simply love each other and want to celebrate that love by tying the knot?” asked Scarlett, who was clearly a romantically inclined Russian spy.

“Oh, Scarlett, Scarlett,” said Gran. “I see she’s gotten to you, too.”

“Nobody’s ‘gotten’ to me, Vesta. I just think they make a damn fine couple, and I wish them all the future happiness in the world, and frankly I think you should, too.”

“He’s too old to get married!”

“He’s only, what, fifty-something?”

“I’m telling you Alec would never get married if he wasn’t being hoodwinked. And I want to know what that woman is holding over him.”

Scarlett shrugged.“Can only be one thing.”

Vesta gave her a scathing look.“You’ve got a one-track mind, Scarlett.”

“What? I’m telling you—in my experience there’s only one thing that would make a man want to propose marriage to a woman and that’s—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”

“Sex! What else?”

“I’m the man’s mother, Scarlett!”

“So? There are certain realities you just have to face, Vesta. Charlene is an attractive woman, and I’m sure she’s got assets that would make any man happy to explore them.”

Gran buried her face in her hands.“Oh, God.”

“It’s human nature!”

“Just because you’re obsessed with sex doesn’t mean we all are.”

“Just saying,” said Scarlett with a shrug.

Norm was losing his patience. So far nothing was happening that would make James Bond bother to get out of bed in the morning, and he was starting to wonder if Max had sent him on a fool’s errand. He wouldn’t put it past the cat to try and get rid of him.

“Look, I want to find out what Charlene’s got on my son, and then I want to stop that wedding from happening. Are you with me or not, that’s all I need to know right now.”

“Well…” said Scarlett, wavering.

“It’s going to break my granddaughter’s heart, Scarlett! And I happen to love my granddaughter—more than anything in the world!”

“Aww,” said Scarlett, regarding her friend with interest.

“What’s the look for?”

“So you do have a heart.”

“Of course I have a heart!” She then wagged a finger in her friend’s face. “But don’t you go and blab about it. It would ruin my reputation.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”

“First we need to find out Charlene’s secret.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“Easy. We spy on her.”

“What do you mean?”

“We bug her phone, her house, her office, we put a tracker on her car…”

“Isn’t that, like, extremely illegal?”

“Who cares? I’m trying to protect my family here, Scarlett!”

“Fine! But aren’t you forgetting one thing?”

“What?”

“We’re not exactly professional spies, you and me. So how do you propose we pull this off?”

Grandma Muffin smiled.“Leave that to me. I’ve got it all figured out.”

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the high-profile spy bonanza Norm had anticipated, but he still felt, as he started the long flight back to Harrington Street to report to Max, that he’d gleaned some interesting intelligence. And he was starting to see that he’d landed himself in exactly the kind of spy story Mr. Bond would have appreciated.

Chapter 4

Marge looked at her watch, then up and down the street. Her husband was late. They’d arranged to go shopping together and so far Tex was a no-show. She frowned as she thought about the article she’d just read on the Gazette website. Breaking news, it said. The Chief of Police was getting married to the Mayor, it said. A thousand comments had already been posted, and almost all of them heralded the news and wished the future husband and wife all the happiness in the world.

Marge had tried to call her brother, wanting to ask him what he thought he was doing, letting her find out about his upcoming wedding from the Gazette. But he wasn’t picking up, and nor was her daughter Odelia, who’d written the article in the first place.

What was going on here?

Finally Tex came hurrying up, looking apologetic.“I’m sorry!” he said as he joined her on the sidewalk. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Ten minutes,” she said. “What took you so long?”

“Ida Baumgartner,” he said ruefully, and she smiled. It was just Tex’s luck to get his most faithful patient to pay him a visit just before he needed to be somewhere.

“What did she suffer from this time?” she asked. “Probably some disease that hasn’t been invented yet?”

“Actually this time she was suffering from something real,” said her husband as they walked into Darling’s Dress Code. “A rash. On her face.”

“Probably an allergy.”

“I don’t think so. She did mention she was using a new face cream so—”

But Marge was already making a beeline for the shoe department and forgot all about Ida Baumgartner and her long string of real or imagined illnesses. The store was organizing a big sale today, and she wanted to get two pairs of shoes for Tex, and a pair for her as well. Initially she’d wanted to buy them for their daughter’s wedding, but now that it looked like her brother was getting hitched, too, they’d have to do double duty.

“Read this and tell me what you think,” she said once her husband’s shoe needs had been taken care of and she entered the frantic fray to find a nice pair for herself.

When she returned with a pair of elegant pink pumps—not exactly ideal for a wedding but the price was so right!—he handed her back her phone, looking stumped.

“I don’t get it,” he announced. “Your brother is getting married?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“And you didn’t know about this?”

“Nope. He didn’t tell me a thing.” In fact she’d talked to her brother the night before, and he hadn’t given any indication that he was about to tie the knot again—fifteen years after becoming a widower.

Tex looked as flummoxed as she was feeling.“I tried to call him,” she said, “but he’s not picking up. And then I tried calling Odelia, but she’s not picking up either.”

“So… maybe the article is a hoax?”

“Odelia wrote it,” she pointed out.

“Oh.” Her husband shook his head. “Then I don’t get it.” He answered in the affirmative when she paraded in front of him with a pair of black strappy heels, though his mind seemed elsewhere, and presumably not with Ida Baumgartner’s peculiar rash. “He could have told us,” he said. “If he’s going to get married at the same time as Odelia we should probably organize a double wedding. Two weddings in a row seems silly.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. We’d better make it a double wedding.” Though preferably she would have liked her brother to postpone his wedding. He was totally going to steal his niece’s thunder now, which seemed like a really selfish thing to do.

Unless there was something she didn’t know? Some reason her brother suddenly felt the need to get married?

“Maybe Charlene is pregnant?” Tex suggested, clearly thinking along the same lines as she was.

“Can I help you?” suddenly the salesgirl said, materializing next to her.

“Do you have these in a bigger size?” she asked. She liked the shoes, but they were a little tight.

The girl disappeared, in search of the shoes, and Marge took a seat next to her husband.“How old is Charlene?”

“Your age, right?”

“That’s what I thought. Is it even possible to be pregnant at forty-eight?”

“It’s possible,” said her husband the doctor. “Unlikely but possible. Though I didn’t know they were trying for a baby.”

“No, me neither. Unless…” They shared a look of consternation.

“Unless it was an accident?”

“Could be,” she said. “Though nowadays people don’t get married just because they’re expecting a baby, do they?”

“Not usually,” Tex allowed. “Unless they’ve decided it’s best for the baby if the parents are married before it arrives into this world.”

“But if she is pregnant, wouldn’t she have told you? You are her doctor, right?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen her in a while. Ever since she got involved with Alec she’s been seeing a doctor in Hampton Keys.”

“She probably feels weird about seeing you now that you’re practically family.” They let the notion of Alec becoming a father hang in the air for a moment, then Marge nudged her husband. “You could find out though, couldn’t you? I mean, from one doctor to another, and Charlene technicallystill being your patient and all?”

“I could find out,” said Tex, nodding. “But it wouldn’t exactly be ethical for me to—”

“Call him,” said Marge. “Call him now.”

“But honey!”

“He’s my brother, Tex. I have a right to know. So either you call him or I’ll do it.”

Tex sighed, hesitated for a moment, then took out his phone and placed the call. The conversation was short and to the point, and when Tex hung up the phone he said,“Nope. She’s definitely not pregnant.”

“So then why? Why the sudden haste?”

Chapter 5

Odelia arrived home feeling a little dejected. She didn’t begrudge her uncle his future happiness with his new bride, but she just wished he’d told her the news in person instead of having the Mayor send an email to her boss, who had then forwarded her the email and asked her to write a short article announcing the happy occasion.

She took a bottle of cold water from the fridge and poured herself a glass of the cooling liquid. And as she leaned against the kitchen counter, she saw that four cats were all staring at her expectantly. She smiled.

“Let me guess. Your bowls are empty?”

But when she glanced over she saw that her darlings still had plenty of kibble.

“So tell us already, Odelia!” said Harriet, who had the least patience of all of her cats. “Is it really true that Uncle Alec is getting married? And if so why?”

“And is he pregnant or is Charlene pregnant or are they both pregnant?” asked Brutus.

“Or are they both pregnantand dying?” asked Dooley.

In spite of herself, she laughed. It was just like her cats to come up with these crazy stories.“Frankly I have no idea,” she said.

“But you wrote the story!” said Harriet. “Gran said so herself!”

“Yeah, I wrote the story, but only because my editor asked me to. He received an email from the Mayor’s Office, announcing the wedding, and that’s all I know.”

“The Mayor’s Office?” asked Max with a frown. “You mean Uncle Alec didn’t personally tell you the news?”

She swallowed.“No, he didn’t. And when I tried to call him he didn’t pick up. So at this point I know just as much as you guys. Which is exactly nothing.”

“But… he’s your uncle,” Dooley pointed out.

“Thanks, Dooley,” she said. “I didn’t know that.”

Dooley stared at her.“You didn’t know?”

“Of course I know, silly!”

“So… hehas to talk to you, right?”

She shrugged. The whole thing had surprised her, but she wasn’t the kind of person to fret, so she just told herself there was probably a perfectly good reason why her uncle hadn’t told her the news in person, and why he was refusing to take her calls.

And just as she took another sip of water, the doorbell chimed and she placed down the glass and went to answer the door. She was surprised to find Charlene Butterwick on the mat, looking distraught. Her hair was a mess, and she had dark rings under her eyes.“Can I come in?” the Mayor asked, and walked in without waiting for Odelia’s reply.

“What’s going on?” asked Odelia when Charlene quickly glanced over her shoulder before closing the door.

“It’s your uncle,” said Charlene, then suddenly burst into tears. “He-he’s been taken, Odelia.”

“What?!” Odelia cried. “What do you mean?”

“He’s been kidnapped. By some very bad people. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“Sit down,” said Odelia as she led the highly distraught mayor to the couch in the family room and sat her down. “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

Charlene nodded, and gratefully accepted the glass of water and took a sip.“It happened last night. We were at my place watching TV when suddenly the doorbell rang. Since it was almost midnight I was reluctant to open the door, so Alec went to go look instead. And before I knew what was happening, suddenly three men forced their way inside. They were holding a gun on Alec and then on me, too, and told us to sit down. They proceeded to gag us and tie us up and then started ransacking the house, looking for who knows what. Money, probably, though I could have told them they were in for a disappointment, since I’m not exactly a rich woman. Next thing I knew they grabbed Alec and forced him up from the couch…” She gave Odelia a teary look. “And that’s the last time I saw him. They led him out of the house, I heard a door slam, and a car drive off.”

“My God,” said Odelia, clutching a hand to her face. “And this was last night?”

Charlene nodded.“Before they left they made me swear not to call the police. They said if I did, I’d never see Alec again. And I believe them.” She shook her head. “And then they said the weirdest thing. They told me to contact the press, and announce my upcoming wedding to your uncle. They even gave me a document with detailed instructions I had to follow to the letter. So I did. I sent out the email immediately after they left. I was afraid if I didn’t, they’d…” She swallowed with difficulty. “They’d kill him.”

“Charlene, but that’s terrible!”

“I know. I went to work today, also as instructed, but I couldn’t help think about what happened. I was a total mess. Still am.”

“And they haven’t contacted you since last night?”

The Mayor shook her head.“I haven’t heard from them or your uncle. And now I fear the worst.”

The front door opened and closed and Chase walked in. When he caught sight of Charlene and the state she was in, he immediately came over.“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is this about the wedding?”

Charlene glanced at Odelia, then up at Chase, and Odelia understood her meaning.“You can trust Chase, Charlene,” she said. “He won’t tell anyone.”

Charlene nodded, then said, in a choked voice,“Alec’s been kidnapped, Chase. They took him last night and…” She broke into tears. “I think he just might be dead!”

Chapter 6

“What’s going on, Max?” asked Dooley. “I don’t understand.”

“Charlene just told Odelia that Uncle Alec has been kidnapped,” I said.

“I know, but that can’t be right, right?”

“Why not?” I said. “Everyone can be kidnapped.”

“Yes,” said Brutus. “Uncle Alec has just as much right to be kidnapped as anyone else.”

“But… Uncle Alec is the chief of police,” said Dooley. “And police chiefs don’t just get kidnapped. There are rules against that sort of thing.”

“I’m sure there are rules against anyone being kidnapped,” I pointed out, “but that doesn’t prevent kidnappers from still taking people.”

“But… why?”

It was the exact same question Chase now asked the stricken mayor of our town, even as Odelia handed her a box of Kleenex.

“I don’t know,” said Charlene. “All I know is that they said I wasn’t to call the police and tell them what happened.” She glanced up at Chase. “Please don’t tell anyone? I don’t want anything to happen to Alec.” She closed her eyes. “If it’s not too late already.”

“Can you give me a description of the kidnappers?” asked Chase, taking a seat next to the Mayor and taking out his notebook. “Or the make and model of their car?”

Charlene shook her head.“All three of them were pretty big guys, but since they were wearing masks I can’t really tell you what they looked like.”

“Clothes? Shoes? Anything that stands out?”

Charlene thought for a moment, then said,“The one who seemed to be in charge was wearing red Converse shoes. I remember looking down at them and thinking they looked really nice. They looked new, too.”

Chase wrote this down in his little notebook, but I didn’t see how this would help him in any way. I’ll bet many people wear those kinds of shoes.

“Anything else?” he prompted gently.

“I–I think he spoke with an accent. I couldn’t really place it at the time, but now I think it might have sounded as if he was from… Boston?”

“Boston,” Chase repeated, and jotted this down, too.

“I don’t get it,” said Odelia. “Why would anyone kidnap my uncle? He’s not rich, he doesn’t own any property, and as far as I can tell he doesn’t have any enemies.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Chase. “As a policeman he must have made some enemies over the course of his career.”

“Well, sure,” said Odelia. “But so have you. So has any cop on the force. So why him?”

Just then, the big fly who’d been annoying me to no end came buzzing in through the open window, and settled down on the couch seat next to me. “Max, I have some excellent pieces of intelligence for you,” the fly announced.

“That’s great,” I said, and if I was a little distracted it was because I was more interested in what Odelia and Chase were discussing with the Mayor than anything this fat fly had to offer.

“Don’t you want to know what I discovered?” asked the fly, sounding disappointed.

“Yeah, the thing is—my human’s uncle has just been kidnapped,” I explained. “So we’re a little busy right now, Mr.… what’s your name exactly?”

“Norm,” said the fly.

“Great. Now if maybe you could come back a little later, that would be—”

“They’re going to try and stop the wedding!” Norm blurted out.

“What wedding? What are you talking about?” I said, and it was a testament to my distress that I’d completely forgotten about the upcoming wedding, spectacularly revealed in that morning’s Gazette.

“Your Uncle Alec and the Mayor,” said Norm. “Grandma Muffin and her friend Scarlett are going to stop the wedding any way they can. But first they’re going to spy on Charlene—bug her house, her office, her car… Looks like they’ll bug the works. And can I just say I object to this word‘bug?’ It just seems unnecessarily derogatory and offensive.”

I stared at the fly, and so did my friends.

“Who is your new buddy, Max?” asked Brutus.

“Oh, this is Norm,” I said. “Norm, meet Harriet, Brutus and Dooley, my friends and housemates.”

“Hi, Norm,” said Brutus. “I didn’t even know flies could talk.”

“Oh, we can talk all right,” said Norm. “Now if you still want me to carry on with my mission I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for some form of remuneration, Max. I can’t keep working gratis, you know. I may just be a fly, but I still have my standards.”

“Remuneration?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“Food, Max!” said the large fly. “Nourishment!”

“Oh-kay,” I said, a little reluctantly. “So what do you want?”

The fly hovered up and down, then said,“A sample of your stool would be nice.”

“Deal,” I said quickly. It seemed like a small sacrifice to make to ask Odelia not to clean out our litter box until Norm had done his sampling.

“Did you just say you want our stool, Norm?” asked Dooley.

“Sure. Like it or not, but it’s one of my main sources of nourishment, little buddy. Now what do you want me to do, Max? In other words: what’s my next assignment?”

“But… stool is dirty!” said Dooley. “Stool is not to be sampled but thrown out!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, buddy,” said the fly. “As the saying goes: one man’s stool is another man’s gourmet meal.”

I was pretty sure the saying didn’t exactly go like that, but I was already happy we could avail of Norm’s compound eyes and his sharp ears, especially now that we were suddenly faced with a family crisis of epic proportions.

“Look, Uncle Alec has been kidnapped,” I told the fly. “So whatever you can find out that will lead us to the kidnappers, that would be wonderful, Norm. Anything at all.”

“Gotcha, Max!” said the fly excitedly. “I’m on it!” And promptly he buzzed off again.

I noticed how Harriet was staring at me, her mouth slightly agape.“Did you just conduct an entire conversation… with a dung fly, Max?” she asked.

“I’m not sure he’s a dung fly,” I said, staring after Norm. “He could just be a housefly.”

“Answer the question!”

“Why, yes, I guess I did,” I admitted. “Norm is good people, Harriet. And I’m sure he’ll find out what we need to know about this kidnapping business. Plus, he’s cheap. Who else will investigate a case in exchange for a little bit of poo, if you see what I mean.”

“I don’t believe this,” said Harriet. “Just when you think you’ve seen it all…”

Chapter 7

“My poor brother!” said Mom. “We have to call in the FBI, the army—the National Guard!”

“We’re not calling anyone,” said Odelia decidedly. “We don’t want to endanger my uncle’s life.”

“But—”

“It’s best if we do as the kidnappers say, honey,” said Dad, placing a soothing hand on his wife’s arm.

They were all seated around the living room table, a table rarely used, as Odelia and Chase liked to eat their meals at the kitchen counter. Odelia and Chase were there, of course, and so were Odelia’s mom and dad, and also Charlene. Gran wasn’t present, nor did they want her to be. They’d immediately decided that given the old lady’s age and attachment to her son it was best not to tell her what had happened to her dear Alec.

“So what do we do now?” asked Dad, directing his question at Charlene. “Did they give you any more instructions, apart from that wedding announcement?”

“They said they’d be in touch,” said Charlene, whose eyes were red and so was her nose. “I really wish I knew what they’re up to. What this is all about.”

“All I can think is that this is some kind of revenge,” said Mom. “Someone my brother arrested and put behind bars who now wants to take revenge.” She directed a questioning look at Chase. “Maybe you can find out if anyone that Alec arrested has been released from prison recently? Someonebearing a grudge?”

“Good idea,” said Chase, nodding. “I’ll look into it.”

“But be discreet about it,” Charlene implored. “I don’t want these kidnappers to find out I’ve been talking to you—a cop.”

“I’m not here as a cop now, Charlene,” said Chase. “I’m here as a family member.”

“And Uncle Alec’s godson,” said Odelia, who hadn’t forgotten the reason Chase had come to town in the first place, when his high-flying NYPD career had tanked and he’d needed a place to lick his wounds and start over again.

“Alec gave me a fresh start,” said Chase now. “He helped me out when I was at the end of my rope. Gave me a place to stay and a job. I’d do anything for that man. So if you don’t mind I’m going to ghost your phone, Charlene.”

“Ghost my phone?” asked Charlene.

“It means he’ll know when the kidnappers call you, and he’ll be able to see what they say when they send you a message,” Odelia explained.

“Oh, right,” said Charlene, nodding distractedly. “Honestly, I’m supposed to go into work tomorrow, but I don’t feel like I can. People will know something is wrong, and they’ll ask me all kinds of questions about the wedding and I simply don’t know what to tell them.”

“They’ll simply think you’re still bowled over with Alec’s wedding proposal,” said Mom. “And if you lock yourself up in your office they’ll leave you alone. Unless you have a meeting scheduled?”

“No, nothing special,” said Charlene. She rubbed her face. “Oh, this is just a nightmare, isn’t it?”

It absolutely was, Odelia thought, and glanced over to her cats. She hoped they would be able to help find her uncle. In fact they were probably her only hope, as the family couldn’t use police resources, and Chase would have to be very discreet lest he alert the kidnappers.

She looked down at her phone and wondered now if they were being watched—or overheard?

And if they were, how were they to find out?

“Did… did these kidnapers do something with your phone?” she asked Charlene.

But the Mayor shook her head.“I don’t think so. Though they did take your uncle’s phone when they marched him out.”

Which just stood to reason, of course. And which explained why all of Odelia’s calls had gone straight to voicemail. Then she got an idea. “Can you trace my uncle’s phone somehow?” she asked Chase.

“I already did,” said the cop. “But no dice. Looks like they switched it off and removed the battery. So no way to trace him through his phone, I’m afraid.”

These crooks seemed to have thought of everything, which just proved that Mom’s theory was probably correct: most likely these were gangsters her uncle had put away at some point in his long career, and who were now out to take revenge on him.

But then why the wedding announcement?

What were they up to?

Just then, Gran came breezing into the room, and when she found all of them seated around the table looking glum, she frowned.“What’s going on?” she asked. Then when she saw Charlene’s teary face, her frown deepened. “Is the wedding off? Is that it?”

“No, the wedding isn’t off,” said Charlene, and wiped away a tear.

“So where is he? Where is that son of mine, who didn’t even have the decency to tell his sweet old mother in person about his upcoming nuptials?”

“Alec is… at work,” said Charlene, casting a quick glance at Odelia. For a politician she wasn’t very adept at lying, the latter thought.

“Yeah, he’s working late,” she said.

“Hrmph,” said Gran. “So why the shotgun wedding is what I’d like to know.” When they all stared at her, she added, “Well? Is it true what they’re saying?”

“What are they saying?” asked Mom.

“That Madam Mayor got a bun in the oven!” said Gran, who never beat about the bush and wasn’t beating about the bush now.

Charlene barked a curt laugh.“Me! Pregnant! As if!”

“No baby?” asked Gran, looking slightly disappointed. “Then why? Why the rush? And why this weird-ass announcement?”

Charlene shrugged.“I’m Mayor, Vesta, and Alec is Chief of Police. When two public figures such as ourselves decide to tie the knot the public has a right to be informed.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do, but what about me? Don’t you think the mother of the groom has a right to be informed?” She gestured to Odelia’s mom. “Or the man’s own sister?”

“Ma,” said Mom warningly.

“No, I’m just curious,” said Gran. “My own son is getting married, and he doesn’t even tell me in person? I have to read about it in the newspaper, same as everyone else?”

“I’m truly sorry,” said Charlene. “It’s just that…”

“Alec was going to tell you, but it slipped his mind,” said Mom. “Isn’t that right, Charlene?”

Charlene nodded.“Yeah, we discussed it last night, and I told him: you better call your mom and tell her. But he must have forgotten.”

“Hrmph,” said Gran, but looked slightly mollified as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Typical Alec. Always forgetting his dear old mother.” She directed a pointed look at her daughter. “So when did you find out?”

“Same as you,” said Mom. “When I read about it in the paper.”

“When I get my hands on that son of mine, he’s going to wish he was never born,” vowed Gran, and took out her phone. But when she placed it to her ear, she announced, “Damn voicemail again.” Then, speaking into her phone: “Pick up, Alec. It’s your mother.” She listened for a moment,then said, “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? Well, you’re dead to me, too! And don’t even bother inviting me to your wedding, cause I’m not coming!”

And with these words, she disconnected and stalked out.

Chapter 8

“There’s something they’re not telling me, Scarlett,” Vesta spoke into her phone as she got into her car. “You should have seen the look on Charlene’s face. She’d clearly been crying her eyes out. And my son isn’t picking up his phone.”

“That’s bad,” said Scarlett. “So what are you going to do?”

“We’re going full steam ahead with our plans, that’s what. Did you get the stuff?”

“I did. Though the guy at the store gave me a strange look when I asked for half a dozen of those listening bugs. So I told him I’m going to use them to spy on my boyfriend figuring he’s been two-timing me with my best friend. He thought that was hilarious.”

“Quick thinking. Good. We don’t need any nosy parkers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. So I’ll meet you there, all right?”

“Are you sure about this, Vesta? Technically we are breaking the law.”

“We’re the neighborhood watch, honey. We are the law.”

And as she ended the call and started up the engine she got another idea. A real doozie. Bugging Charlene’s home and office wasn’t enough. She needed something more to really lay bare the woman’s deceitfulness and treachery. And she knew exactly what.

So she shut down the car again and stalked into the house, only to find the meeting still in full swing. And as she’d suspected, the conversation immediately died down the moment she entered the house. They were all in it together! Her own family—all of them conspiring against her!

“Dooley!” she snapped. “Come!”

“Why?” asked Dooley.

“No questions,” she said curtly. “Come with me. Right now.”

“But…” He cast a worried look at his friend and Gran rolled her eyes.

“All right—fine! Max, you come, too.”

“Where are you taking my cats?” asked Odelia suspiciously.

“None of your business,” Vesta barked.

Two could play this game, she thought. If they were going to start keeping secrets from her, she would simply turn the tables on them. See how they liked them apples!

Max and Dooley followed her out into the corridor, then out of the house.

The moment they were safely ensconced in the car, she turned and said, a gleam in her eye,“have I got the mission for you guys!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

I don’t know about you, but every time Gran gets that strange slightly feverish gleam in her eyes it’s time for me to start worrying about her sanity and about my safety.

“What is it, Gran?” asked Dooley, who seemed as worried about this strange behavior of Odelia’s grandmother as I was. “Where are you taking us?”

“You know about that wedding announcement that went out this morning, right? My son getting married to Charlene Butterwick?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, nodding.

“Well, for some reason or another he and Charlene are being extremely secretive about the whole sordid affair, and I’m on a mission to find out what’s going on.”

I could have told her what was going on, but I was under strict instructions not to reveal anything to Grandma Muffin, for fear her poor heart wouldn’t be able to take the strain. I wasn’t so sure her heart was as weak as all that, though. But I wasn’t going to go against Odelia’s wishes, so I merely nodded obediently. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’m going to bug Charlene’s apartment, her office, her phone, her car, in fact I’m going to bug that woman’s entire life, and then I’m going to follow her around wherever she goes, and find out once and for all how she’s managed to force my son into this shotgun wedding. Cause if I know Alec, and I think I do, it’s pretty obvious he would never jump into this thing without being coerced.”

“You think Charlene is forcing Uncle Alec to get married?” asked Dooley.

“Of course she is! Isn’t it obvious! The conniving little trollop is manipulating my son into a marriage he doesn’t want! And it’s my job as his mother to get him out of this predicament if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Okay,” I said, a little uncertainly. Rarely had I ever known a human to be so completely wrong about something. “So what do you want us to do?”

“I’m going to insert you into Charlene’s life and you’re going to feed me information. A bug can’t pick up everything, but two feline spies can.” She gave us a beaming smile, as if expecting a warm round of applause.

“So… you want us to go live with Charlene?” I asked, still not seeing the full picture.

“Bingo! You’re my wedding present to that treacherous woman, but secretly you’ll report to me the whole time. And to that end…” And before I knew what was going on, she was suddenly strapping a collar around my neck. A collar, if you please!

“Hey!” I said, shocked and not a little bit surprised. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Max,” she growled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m giving you a collar. And Scarlett is going to put a bug inside that collar.”

“A bug!” said Dooley. “But I don’t like bugs. Bugs can kill you!”

“Not that kind of bug,” said Gran as she placed a collar around Dooley’s neck, too. “There. That should do the trick. Now all we need to do is to make sure the connection is A-Okay and we’re ready to get this show on the road.”

I didn’t know what show she was referring to, or even what road, exactly, but I was already pretty sure I wasn’t going to like either show or road. And as she drove off, practically taking out Kurt Mayfield’s mailbox as she did, I shared a look of extreme distress with Dooley. Suddenly we’d been thrust in the middle of an adventure we hadn’t bargained for.

And the worst part? We were going to be introduced into the home of the woman who’d just been the victim of a home invasion!

Yikes!

Chapter 9

“I wonder what Gran is planning to do with Max and Dooley,” said Harriet as she watched Gran take off.

“Probably run some errands,” said Brutus.

“I doubt it. You know what I think? I think Gran knows what’s going on, and she’s just recruited Max and Dooley to help her find her son.”

“Sounds plausible.”

“Well, it’s not fair. Why is she recruiting Max and Dooley and leaving us behind?”

“Because… Dooley is hers?” Brutus suggested.

“Yeah, I know, but Max isn’t. So why does he get to go and not us? And have you noticed how Odelia hasn’t even told us to help her find her uncle? We’re being railroaded here, Brutus. Simply put out to pasture. And I’m not standing for it.”

“Standing for what?” asked Brutus, who seemed content just to lie there on the couch and do nothing whatsoever. The whole situation frankly infuriated the prissy Persian.

“Come on,” she said now.

“Come where? “asked Brutus, alarmed.

“We’re going to find Uncle Alec before Max and Dooley do, and prove once and for all that we’re the premier sleuths here, and not them.”

But… nobody asked us,” said Brutus, causing Harriet to give him a furious look.

“I’m asking you, Brutus. In fact I’mtelling you. Let’s go and find Uncle Alec before he’s delivered back to his family in lots of little pieces.”

“Little pieces!” Brutus cried, horrified by the word picture she was painting.

“Didn’t you hear what Odelia said? Uncle Alec has been kidnapped by professional criminals. The kind that like to outfit their victims with shoes made of concrete and dump them in the nearest river. Or dissolve their bodies in a bath filled with acid. Or, and here I want you to follow me carefully, cut them into little pieces and mail them back to their family! Now do you want that to happen to your favorite police chief or not?”

“No, I don’t,” said Brutus, sobered by this horrifying prospect, which seemed to come straight from the pages of a James Patterson novel.

“Well, then,” she said. “Let’s go. And make it snappy.”

“But…”

“Do youwant Uncle Alec to die a gruesome death? His body fed to the fishes?”

“Um, is this a trick question?” Brutus asked after a pregnant pause.

“Oh, for crying out loud. Up!” said Harriet, and gave her mate a shove against the rear.

“Easy, easy,” said Brutus, as he defied gravity and raised himself up from the couch. “So where are we doing?”

“Out there into the world,” said Harriet, vaguely gesturing to the great outdoors. “We’re going to find traces and snoop clues, and we’re going to find Uncle Alec and save him from certain death and a very painful and humiliating disfiguration.”

And to show her cohort how it was done, she stuck her nose in the air and started sniffing.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Gran had parked her car in front of Scarlett’s apartment, and the latter now came hurrying out, carrying a bulky canvas shopping bag. She got into the car and dumped the bag on the backseat, right next to the two cats who, for some reason, were also present.

“What’s with the cats?” she asked.

“They’re going to help us find out what’s going on,” Vesta announced.

If Scarlett was surprised that cats were a fixture whenever Vesta was about to go on one of her adventures she didn’t show it. It was part and parcel of being friends with the surprisingly spry septuagenarian. Wherever Vesta was, cats were never far away.

“So is that the stuff?” asked Vesta as she put the car in gear.

“Yeah, that’s all of it. The guy at the store said it’s pretty simple. All we need to do is conceal the bugs where Charlene won’t find them, and they’ll start transmitting their signal immediately. He did say we’d have to stay pretty close to pick up the signal.”

“How close?”

“Within a hundred-foot radius.”

“Bummer,” said Vesta. “I don’t feel like staying awake twenty-four-seven to tail this woman until she gives up her many, many secrets.”

“Which is why we should involve Wilbur and Francis,” said Scarlett.

“No can do,” said Vesta. “We’ve already got the cats involved, and I don’t want Wilbur and Francis to know about my big secret.”

Vesta’s big secret was also her Achilles’ heel. No one was supposed to know she could talk to her cats, and so far only Charlene and Scarlett knew about it, apart from Vesta’s own family, of course.

“Why don’t you simply tell them?” Scarlett suggested. “It would make life a lot easier.”

“Yeah, tell Wilbur I can talk to cats. Before I finish telling him the whole town will know. You know what a gossip Wilbur Vickery is. The guy simply can’t keep a secret.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Scarlett admitted. It was one of their fellow watch member’s flaws. But also one of his strengths, since he was alwaysau courant with the latest gossip.

“Besides, I don’t want Charlene to know we’re onto her. So Wilbur is out for Operation Mongoose.”

“Operation Mongoose?” asked Scarlett with a laugh.

“It’s as good a name as any,” said Vesta with a shrug. “Now where do we go first?”

“Better start at the house,” Scarlett suggested. “Then once we’ve got that bugged, we can take care of her office.” How they were going to get access to the woman’s phone was beyond her, though. They were no professional spies, after all. But somehow she figured Vesta would find a way around that minor disadvantage. She always did. “Does Charlene have an alarm system?”

“Nope. Alec told me he’s been arguing with her to put one in and she turned him down flat. She says the moment she needs an alarm is the moment she’s failed as a mayor and he’s failed as chief of police. She still believes Hampton Cove is the kind of town where people should be able to leave their doors unlocked at all times.”

“I’d love for things to be that way,” said Scarlett wistfully.

“Me, too. Would make breaking in a lot easier for us.”

Chapter 10

I didn’t mind assisting Gran and Scarlett on their quest to figure out why Gran’s son was getting married to Charlene, but clearly she was laboring under a misapprehension that could very well impede the real investigation into Uncle Alec’s disappearance.

So now Dooley and I were faced with what is commonly termed a dilemma: should we or shouldn’t we tell these two what was really going on? Or follow Odelia’s instructions and keep her grandmother in the dark?

“I think we should tell her,” said Dooley. “She’s Uncle Alec’s mom. Mothers shouldn’t be kept in the dark about their sons being kidnapped. To do so is morally ambiguous.”

I smiled at my friend for using such a big word. I doubted whether he knew what it meant.“I think before we tell her we should probably ask Odelia. She clearly has her reasons and we don’t want to go against her wishes.”

Dooley made a face, showing me he was struggling with this as much as I was.

“And look at it this way: at least we’ll be right at the heart of the investigation if we’re going to be living with Charlene from now on.”

“But what if these bad men come back? I’m not built for close-quarters combat, Max.”

“Me, neither, Dooley,” I admitted. “None of us are. So let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I just wish Odelia didn’t have to return Rambo to his owner,” said Dooley now.

Rambo was a sizable Bulldog and a retired police dog, and had been instrumental in keeping us safe in a previous adventure. Odelia had wanted to adopt him, but Rambo already had an owner, who wasn’t so keen to hand his aged dog over to someone else.

“If worse comes to worst, I’m sure Rambo’s owner won’t mind lending us his dog and his very particular skillset again,” I said.

But until then? We were on our own, with only our smarts, wit and resourcefulness to carry us through. And the knowledge that the neighborhood watch was watching, of course. Though I wasn’t exactly feeling reassured by that aspect of our mission.

Gran had pulled up outside Charlene Butterwick’s home, and let us out of the car. The Mayor of Hampton Cove lived in a nice little home, though frankly I’d expected her to live in some villa or mansion. Then again, civil servants probably don’t make the big bucks.

In front of her house plenty of flowers bloomed in a lovely little apron of green.

“Looks like your son’s new wife got a green thumb,” said Scarlett appreciatively.

“Mh,” said Gran, regarding the floral display with a critical eye. “Not enough perennials. Her garden will look terrible come wintertime.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” said Scarlett. “She’s not the worst possible daughter-in-law, is she now? In fact I think I remember you telling me not all that long ago how lucky Alec was to have found himself such a lovely lady as his new life partner.”

“You must have misheard,” said Gran, sticking her nose in the air and traipsing up to the door. She pressed her finger on the buzzer and inside the clanging echoed through the house. Patiently we waited on the doorstep, not exactly eager to start our mission, but not all that un-eager either, as we looked forward to launching into our investigation.

“Great,” said Gran. “Nobody home. Let’s do this, buddy.”

And Dooley and I watched in confusion how our law-abiding human suddenly morphed into some kind of criminal mastermind and hopped it round the back, Dooley and myself in her wake, and then started messing around with the backdoor, applying what surely were illegal methods of gaining access!

“What is Gran doing, Max?” asked Dooley, as he watched on with surprise etched on his features.

“I think she’s trying to break into Charlene’s house,” I replied, equally surprised.

It wasn’t exactly the kind of scene a cat owner would want to subject their innocent pet to: Scarlett was holding up her phone, where a YouTube video was playing titled ‘Breaking and Entering for Dummies,’ while Vesta, her tongue sticking out of her mouth, was doing something with what looked like atoothpick and her Visa card.

“I can’t watch this, Max,” said Dooley, shaking his head.

“I know how you feel, Dooley,” I said, though I was experiencing exactly the opposite: I simply couldn’t look away from the scene!

“Can you play that last bit again?” asked Gran. “I think I missed something.”

“Here, let me try,” said Scarlett.

“No, it’s fine,” said Gran. “I can do this. I practiced at home and it worked just fine.”

“Every lock is different, though, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure your lock is different than this one.”

“It’s fine I’m telling you. I can do this. Just scroll back a couple of seconds.”

With a sigh, Scarlett returned to an earlier moment in the video where the man, who looked like an ex-con, had shown what a lock looked like if you possessed X-ray vision.

“Why don’t they just wait until Charlene gets home?” asked Dooley.

“I think they’re going to plant those bugs now,” I said. “They want to bug Charlene’s entire house, remember? And her office, her phone and her car, too.”

“This is not going to end well, Max.”

“I have a feeling you’re absolutely right, Dooley.” Though who was going to arrest two old ladies when the Chief of Police himself had been kidnapped? The police force was effectively leaderless right now, even if it didn’t know it yet.

“I think I heard a click,” said Gran, pressing her ear against the lock.

“What kind of click?” asked Scarlett.

“How should I know? A click. Didn’t he say something about a click?”

“Just let me try. You’re doing it all wrong.”

“No, I’m doing it exactly right!”

“He says first to insert that little metal thingy and then the other little metal thingy and wriggle!”

“I’m sure it’s just the other way around.”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong, Vesta, I’m telling you!”

“Get your hands away from me,” said Vesta, slapping Scarlett’s eager hands away.

“You have to put that there and that thing over there and then wiggle!”

“I’m wiggling my ass off here, all right? So if you just let me—”

And just when things were about to get physical, suddenly the door was opened and Charlene Butterwick appeared, looking at the two older ladies with a look of surprise.

“What’s going on?” asked the Mayor, visibly taken aback by this surprising scene.

“We were just trying to ascertain if your security measures are on point,” said Gran quickly, holding the tools of her burglarious trade behind her back where Scarlett equally quickly took them from her and dumped them into her purse. “Just one of the services your neighborhood watch likes tooffer,” she added with a beaming smile.

“It’s what we do,” Scarlett added. “We burglar-proof people’s houses. Make sure they’re safe.”

Charlene still looked mildly suspicious, but finally nodded.“Thanks,” she said. “So I guess your daughter and granddaughter decided to tell you what happened, huh?”

“Oh, sure,” Gran lied. “They told us everything.”

“If only I’d asked you to do this sooner,” said Charlene as she stepped aside to invite both women into her home. “This could all probably have been prevented.”

“Sure, sure,” said Gran, and gestured for me and Dooley to follow her into the house. “And speaking of burglar-proofing your place, I’ve got the perfect gift for you, Charlene.”

“What is it?” asked Charlene, who still looked extremely pale and drawn.

“I’m offering you my two cats,” said Gran proudly, and pointed to Dooley and me, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.

Charlene frowned.“I don’t get it.”

“Max and Dooley!” said Gran. “You can have them from now on. They’re two wonderful cats, house-trained and sweet-natured, and you can consider them an early wedding gift from me—”

“—and me!” Scarlett chimed in, displaying a wide smile that looked just a little unnatural, I thought. Or it could be that Scarlett never smiles, figuring it only adds to collagen loss and possible skin damage she can’t afford at her age.

Charlene still wasn’t fully on board, I could tell. “So… you’re offering me your cats. Why, exactly?”

“Because… I want to welcome you into the family, honey,” said Gran. “And what better way of welcoming you into the family than by offering you these two sweet fellas?”

“It’s a Poole family tradition,” Scarlett intimated, seeing how Gran was struggling and deciding to step in. “Whenever one of the Pooles gets married, cats exchange hands. It’s the way things have always been done—isn’t that right, Vesta?”

“Absolutely.”

Charlene glanced down at Dooley and me, who just sat there looking as sweet as we could. And house-trained, of course, which was a given.

“But… I’ve never owned a cat in my life,” said Charlene with a nervous little laugh. “I’m more of a dog person, really.”

“That’s all right,” said Gran, waving a magnanimous hand. “We all make mistakes. Now are you just going to stand there or are you going to give them a big welcome? I don’t hand my cats over to just anyone, you know. This is a big thing for me, Charlene.”

“Oh, no, of course, of course,” said Charlene, and crouched down next to me, then seemed at a loss at how exactly to proceed.

“Giving them a tickle behind the ears would be a good start,” said Gran censoriously.

So Charlene gave me a tickle behind the ears and I dutifully purred. It wasn’t a great tickle, mind you, but then cats can be great actors, so I just hammed it up a little: I dropped on the floor, rolled over like a dog, and even let her tickle my tummy.

Charlene smiled.“He’s pretty sweet, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is,” said Gran. “Now do the other one. Get a feel for them.”

And so Charlene repeated the procedure with Dooley, who mimicked my movements, and soon we were both lying on our backs for a tummy rub.

“I don’t know about you, Max,” said Dooley after a moment. “But I feel very silly.”

“I know, Dooley,” I said. “I feel very silly, too.”

“Thanks, Vesta,” said Charlene a little awkwardly. “Thank you so much.”

And suddenly she burst into tears!

Chapter 11

“So sweet of her to get so emotional over your gift,” said Scarlett once they were back in the car.

“Yeah, I hadn’t expected her to start blubbering like a baby,” Vesta said. “But don’t let that distract you from the mission, honey. She could very well have been playing us.”

“Her tears looked real to me. And trust me, I know fake tears when I see them.”

Vesta smiled. Scarlett knew what fake tears looked like because she’d probably employed the method herself on more than one occasion in the past, and knew how effective it was. “Did you manage to plant those bugs?”

“Yeah, I put one behind the bed, one behind the toilet and one in her home office.”

“I distributed the rest around the living room,” said Vesta. “So we should be good.”

“Let’s give it a test run,” said Scarlett, sounding upbeat and happy after a successful mission pulled off without a hitch.

And as Vesta steered the car in the direction of Town Hall, Scarlett fiddled with her tablet for a moment, then suddenly Charlene’s voice sounded through the car loud and clear.

“I don’t have cat kibble for you guys,” the Mayor was saying, “but I do have some turkey. Do you eat turkey?”

“Does a fish swim in the ocean?” grunted Vesta. “She really doesn’t know the first thing about cats, does she?”

“What are you going to tell her when you take Max and Dooley out of there again?”

“I’ll make something up. Maybe tell her I miss my babies too much and I underestimated how important they are to me.”

“I think we did a pretty good job back there, pardner,” said Scarlett, and held up her hand for a high-five.

“Damn near perfect job, pardner,” said Vesta, and reciprocated the high-five with a high-five of her own. “Except for the lock picking. I feel like we should practice some more.”

“And here is the perfect opportunity,” said Scarlett as they entered the Town Hall parking lot and found themselves staring up at the modest one-story building.

“We better wait until it’s dark,” said Vesta. “Breaking into Charlene’s house is one thing, but breaking into Town Hall is a different kettle of fish entirely.” Especially since Town Hall, contrary to Charlene’s home, was probably equipped with an alarm. Too bad her son wasn’t answering his phone, or she could have asked him for the combination.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Charlene stared down at the two cats, who were both staring up at her intently, as if expecting her to do something, or to say something, or whatever.

“Um… so do you want me to take you guys for a walk?” she asked now. She was unsure of how to proceed. She hadn’t lied when she’d told Vesta that she was a dog person. She and Alec had recently even opened a dog kennel in town, though in actual fact it was an animal shelter where all pets were welcome, whether great or small, canine or otherwise inclined. She wondered if she should call the manager of the shelter and ask her for some tips and tricks on how to deal with cats, but then decided against it.

How hard could it be to care for these cuddly creatures? And they were so sweet, too.

Though the way they were staring at her, their gaze unwavering, their eyes never moving away from hers for even a second, was frankly making her feel a little uneasy.

“So, um… how do you guys feel about suddenly being donated to a new human? A little weird, right, this Poole family ritual?” She’d known that the Pooles had this thing about cats, but this whole thing about giving away cats to new partners entering the family was something she’d never heard of before. Alec hadn’t mentioned it either.

“Look, if you guys expect me to talk to you, I’m very sorry but I can’t. I don’t speak your language, I’m afraid,” she said when they just kept staring at her, not moving a muscle and not saying a single thing.

“So, um… just make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll go and get you some food and, um…” And as the biggest of the twosome, the cat named Max, smacked his lips a little, she swallowed uncomfortably and quickly turned away. Oh, how she wished Alec was there.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“She seems nice enough,” said Dooley.

“Yeah, she’s great,” I said.

“Nervous, though. And unhappy.”

“What do you expect, Dooley? Her boyfriend just got kidnapped before her eyes and who knows what these maniacs are up to next?” I sighed and glanced around. I already missed my favorite spot on Odelia’s couch, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep as soundly as I usually did. Not tomention the fact that Charlene probably had never heard of the words ‘litter box,’ something Gran conveniently forgot to mention.

“I think we’ll have to do doo-doo and wee-wee in the backyard, Max,” said Dooley, who’d noticed the same thing.

“Yeah, looks like it,” I said. Which posed another problem: no pet flap!

Grandma Muffin had definitely done it this time. Giving us away? That hadn’t been part of the deal. Did this mean we’d have to stay with Charlene forever? I didn’t think I liked that. She was nice enough, sure, but even cats get attached to their own humans.

“Do you think we’ll have to stay here forever now, Max?” asked Dooley as he glanced around. The living room was minimalistically furnished, all black and white, the entire house constructed in plenty of steel and glass. Not exactly the coziest environment I’d ever encountered, as it lent the place more of an office feel than a real home.

“I hope not,” I said.

“I think Odelia won’t be happy when she finds out that Gran has given us away to Charlene,” Dooley surmised.

“And it’s not as if she can take us back either,” I said. “It’s hard to take a gift back once you’ve given it. Especially a wedding gift.”

“I never thought I’d be a wedding gift, Max.”

“Me neither, Dooley.”

But when Charlene returned from the kitchen carrying two porcelain plates heaped high with pieces of turkey, I quickly perked up. So maybe this new human of ours wasn’t so bad after all? We’d just have to break her in, like cats do with all of their humans.

Chapter 12

Odelia glanced around and frowned.“Have you seen the cats?” she asked.

“Didn’t your grandmother take them?” said Chase. He was on the couch surfing on his laptop, busily going through a list of convicts Uncle Alec had collared. It was a long list.

“Yeah, but they should have been back by now,” she said. “Unless she took them along on one of her neighborhood watch patrols.”

“Then that must be it. You know how she loves those patrols.”

Odelia hadn’t seen any sign of Harriet and Brutus either, but then they spent most of their time next door, at her parents’ place.

She decided to wander over there. She needed to talk to her mother anyway. But when she entered her parents’ kitchen, neither her mother or her father were in evidence, and of the cats there was no trace either.

Weird. People just kept disappearing, though of course the case of her uncle being kidnapped had everyone on edge, so things weren’t exactly normal right now.

And as she walked out again, she noticed a flyer her mom or dad had put up on the fridge with magnets. She read it with a rising sense of surprise.

‘Madame Solange will tell you everything you need to know about your future. Schedule a consult now, and find out what the future holds in store for you and your nearest and dearest.’

There was a phone number, and someone had circled it twice, adding a few exclamation marks for good measure.

And just as she was about to walk out of the house, her dad came walking in, his hands laden with bags of groceries, followed by Odelia’s mom, likewise occupied.

“I’m sorry, honey,” said Mom. “Did you want us to get something for you?”

“No, we’re fine,” said Odelia, who’d forgotten it was grocery run day. In spite of her uncle having gone missing, life still went on, of course, and people still had to eat.

“What’s with this Madame Solange thing?” she asked as she idly checked the bags. She’d skipped dinner, as the emergency meeting with Charlene had run late, and then she hadn’t felt like eating and neither had Chase.

“Oh, just something I picked up at the supermarket,” said her mother, waving a dismissive hand.

“So did you call the number?” she asked.

“Mh? Oh, no, of course not. You know I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, honey. And neither does your father.”

“What stuff?” asked her dad, breezing into the kitchen again.

“Fortune telling stuff,” said Mom with a careless laugh that sounded a little forced.

“Baloney,” said her dad sternly. “Every last one of those people should be sued for taking advantage of the naivety of their victims.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as that,” protested her mother as she put the groceries in the fridge, while Dad offered the same courtesy to the pantry. “I’ll bet some of them are the real deal—the genuine article. Though I still have to meet the first one who can actually predict the future,”she hurriedly added.

“So this Solange, where can I find her?” asked Odelia, her mom’s behavior making her curious to find out more. It was the reporter in her. She could never leave well enough alone.

Mom swallowed.“I’m not sure. I don’t think she’s from around here.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t called her?”

“Oh, but I didn’t! I would never spend money on that sort of thing.”

“So how do you know she’s not from around here?”

Her mom shrugged.“Just a wild guess. If she were from around here, we’d have heard of her by now, don’t you think? Or you would have written an article about her.”

“Maybe I will,” said Odelia, and studied her mother’s reaction carefully.

Mom didn’t disappoint her. She looked up in alarm. “You’re going to talk to her?”

“I might,” said Odelia, now absolutely sure her mom was hiding something, which made her want to pursue the matter even more. “I’ll bet there’s a great story there.”

“Oh, no!” said her mother quickly. “I’m sure nobody wants to read about fortune tellers. That kind of thing is so pass?.”

“I’ll bet she’s down at the fair,” said her dad now.

“There’s a fair in town?” asked Odelia.

“Oh, sure. They’ve been setting up for the past couple of days. I think they’ll do a big parade through town any day now, though I’m afraid carnivals and fairgrounds and circuses are becoming a thing of the past. People aren’t into that kind of thing anymore nowadays. They prefer their entertainment more… hip and cool.” He grinned at his daughter as he said it, indicating he was anything but hip or cool.

“Look, who cares about this fair, or Madame Solange?” said Mom, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “What are we going to do about my brother? What do you propose?”

“Chase is working on it,” said Odelia, sobering. “He’s looking through a list of the people Uncle Alec put behind bars and who recently were released, as you suggested.”

“So the police are going to handle it? Even though these kidnappers specifically warned Charlene not to get them involved?”

“Chase is not working the case as a cop. He’s working it as a member of this family,” said Odelia. “Though frankly I think we actually should involve the police. I think that’s what Uncle Alec would want.”

“I hope they don’t hurt him,” said Mom. “And why did they make Charlene announce their wedding? That just doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’ll bet it’s some kind of psychological thing,” said Dad as he leaned against the kitchen wall, looking pensive. “Psychological warfare. To make Charlene crack.”

“How is announcing her wedding going to make Charlene crack?” asked Mom pointedly.

“I don’t know,” said her dad with a shrug. “But it smells a lot like psychological warfare to me.” And he disappeared into the living room.

“Oh, your father with his nonsense explanations,” said Mom. “I didn’t even want to go shopping. How can we pretend life is normal when my brother is somewhere out there, suffering who knows what kinds of torments?” Tears had formed in her eyes, and Odelia took her mother’s hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll find him, Mom,” she said. “Chase is the best at what he does, and I’m not too shabby either.”

“And what happened to our cats?” asked Mom. “I haven’t seen them anywhere—I just hope they haven’t been taken, too.”

Chapter 13

“So, um, you guys?” said Charlene.

Dooley and I looked up. We’d eaten our fill in exquisitely tasty turkey, and our new owner had made us a cozy little spot on the couch by placing down an actual down blanket for us to lie on, and had turned the TV to a channel that showed plenty of cat food commercials. So when she called us, we knew we were in for more treats.

“Let’s go,”’ said Charlene now. She looked and sounded a little subdued, I thought, but then that was to be expected, since her future husband had been rudely taken from her.

“She’s holding something in her hand, Max,” said Dooley. “Are those… dog leashes?”

“I think so,” I said, wincing a little.

“Let’s take you guys for a walk,” said Charlene. Bless her heart, she was trying hard to turn herself into a proper cat lady, but dog leashes? And taking us for a walk? Clearly she had no idea what she was doing.

“Let’s just humor her,” I said with a shrug.

“But I don’t like a leash, Max. It makes me feel so… like a dog.”

“I know, Dooley, but clearly Charlene isn’t herself today, and I think we should indulge her.”

So we both jumped down from the couch and walked up to our new human.

“Let’s try these on for size,” said the Mayor. “I think they should fit you just fine.”

And they did. They fit exactly right, but that didn’t mean I liked the sensation of a leash being attached to my collar.

At least she hadn’t removed our collars, though thus far there wasn’t all that much for Gran and Scarlett to learn from keeping tabs on Charlene.

“You know the drill,” said Charlene. “We’ll go for a walk around the block, and if you feel the need to do your business, please do it against a tree.” She quickly inspected the pockets of her cardigan. “Poo baggies—check. Tissue paper—check. I think I’m ready to take my new cats for a walk for the very first time. Are you guys ready?”

“Yes, Charlene,” I said dutifully.

“Yes, Charlene,” Dooley chimed in.

Charlene smiled.“So weird,” she muttered, and then walked out of the house, but not before taking a quick glance through the window to see if there weren’t any more of those home invasion people lurking about. “I probably should hire myself some protection,” she said now, talking to herself more than to us. “I’ll call a security company first thing in the morning. I don’t even feel safe in my own home, that’s the worst part. And I can’t stop thinking about poor Alec. He must be going through hell right now.”

“I’m sure Uncle Alec will be fine, Charlene,” I assured her as we walked down the gravel path that split her front yard and through the little gate and out onto the sidewalk. “He’s a police chief, after all, so he’s probably used to dealing with the scum of the earth.”

“Maybe he’s managed to escape already,” said Dooley, “and he’s on his way home as we speak.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Dooley is right,” I said. “Uncle Alec will probably be home soon, and then he’ll put all of those nasty home invasion people in prison where they belong.”

But of course Charlene couldn’t understand a word we said, poor thing, so our comforting speech fell on deaf ears.

We walked around the block, and I have to admit it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Of course cats aren’t used to being walked like a dog, but that bit of fresh air was doing me the world of good after having been cooped up inside the house all evening, and frankly I did feel the need to do a little doo-doo and a little wee-wee, and so did Dooley.

And so we gave Charlene quite a bit of work cleaning up after us. I would have done it myself, but it’s tough digging a hole in the sidewalk, just as it was tough for me to have to deposit it there. Then again, I didn’t have a choice in the matter, and neither did Dooley.

And we’d walked probably half a block when suddenly we saw a parade of some kind heading our way. There were a lot of cars and trailers, fancifully painted in bright colors, and I could even see an elephant walking along, and a cage containing an actual lion!

“Hey, look. It’s one of our relatives,” I told Dooley.

More people had come out of their houses, leaving their televisions to watch the spectacle that was being announced by a sort of carnival barker riding on top of the elephant.

“Hey, cousin!” I said, waving at the lion. But he either couldn’t hear me, or wasn’t interested in making my acquaintance, for he totally ignored me.

Clowns were also there, and jugglers, and what looked like trapeze artists, judging from their Spandex outfits, though they’d left their nice and trusty trapezes at home.

“Alec and I went there yesterday,” said Charlene now. “It was wonderful.” She gave a wistful sigh, clearly thinking about those halcyon days of yore. “The fair will be there for another two weeks or so and then they’ll move on to the next town.”

“Charlene talks to herself a lot, doesn’t she?” said Dooley.

“I think it soothes her,” I said. “It makes her feel less anxious about what happened to Uncle Alec.”

So maybe it had been a good idea for Gran to give us to Charlene as a present, even though her intentions had been less therapeutic and more born from deep suspicion.

One of the final trailers in the parade had the words‘Madame Solange’ painted across the side, and up in front sat a woman dressed in a sort of flowing robe. She looked to be in her early thirties, had long fair hair with two small braids, and was really pretty.

And oddly enough, next to the woman sat a man, who looked like the spitting image of… Uncle Alec!

Charlene must have seen it, too, for she did a double take, then said,“Isn’t that Alec over there?” And then without awaiting our response—and why would she?—she started frantically waving at the man, who sat stoically staring before him.

Madame Solange, who must have thought Charlene was waving at her, returned the wave with a vague smile on her pretty face.

But then Charlene was yanking us forward and in the direction of the trailer.

“Alec!” she yelled. “Alec, it’s me!”

But this Alec lookalike didn’t even look up at the sudden commotion.

And then, before Charlene could reach Madame Solange’s trailer, suddenly a couple of burly men showed up, and physically held her back. They must have been parade security, protecting the fair and circus people from overzealous fans like Charlene.

And as Charlene kept jogging alongside the trailer, dragging us along with her, I noticed something else. Cameras! Everywhere I looked I saw cameras filming the parade, and now also filming the crazy woman dragging two poor cats and yelling‘Alec’ all the while.

“Please, ma’am,” said one of the security people. “For your own safety, please stay behind the barrier.”

“But that’s my boyfriend up there!” said Charlene.

“Where?” asked the burly man, giving her a look of confusion.

“Up there with that woman. His name is Alec and he’s my boyfriend.”

“That’s impossible, ma’am,” said the security guy. “That’s Wolf, Madame Solange’s husband. And now I’m going to have to ask you to please return behind the barrier.”

So Charlene did as she was told, even though clearly she wasn’t happy about it.

And it has to be said, the guy only shared a vague resemblance to Uncle Alec. For one thing, this Wolf sported a funky rust-colored mustache. And for another, he had a full head of hair, something Uncle Alec hadn’t been able to claim for many, many years.

“Poor Charlene,” said Dooley. “Now she’s starting to see things.”

“It’s normal,” I said. “She’ll start seeing Uncle Alec everywhere she goes from now on. It’s the strain from the kidnapping that’s starting to make itself felt now.”

“I really thought it was him,” our new human now murmured softly. “Sweet Alec…”

And then she started the trek home, and frankly not a moment too soon, too. People were starting to point at her, and those camera crews that had captured her frantic intervention would probably be transmitting that footage of a mayor gone berserk.

If Charlene wasn’t careful, soon she would be mayor of Hampton Cove no more.

Chapter 14

Marge compared the numbers on her lottery ticket with the ones on the television screen and had to admit they didn’t match—not one single number had she gotten right.

Disappointed, she crumpled up the ticket and thought dark thoughts of that woman—that Madame Solange, who’d promised she’d win the lottery in the next couple of days.

Three days had gone by since she and Tex visited the fortune teller at the fair and still nothing. So far she’d only lost money, not gained a single cent, and Tex’s prediction hadn’t materialized either.

“Better luck next time, hon,” said her husband, rubbing her back consolingly.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she said.

“If Madame Solange said you’re going to win, you’re going to win. I’m sure about it.”

“I think Odelia is on to us,” said Marge as she darted a quick look at the family room door. Odelia had a habit of dropping by unannounced. That was the disadvantage of having a professional reporter for a daughter: snooping around and listening at keyholes came naturally to this breed of nosy parkers, even when it concerned their own family.

“I think I made a convincing case though, didn’t I?” Tex said.

“Oh, yeah, I thought you were great, honey. She’d never think you were as keen on Madame Solange as I am.” Though her excitement was waning fast.

Just then, there was a rattle of the mailbox, and she frowned. The postwoman never came by this late. But since her favorite show was about to start, it was up to Tex to take a look. When he returned, he just stood there, frowning at a piece of paper in his hand.

“What were those winning lottery numbers again, honey?” he asked.

“Um… Five, four, and the rest I don’t remember.”

His shoulders sagged.“Nope. I thought for a moment…” And he walked over to place a lottery ticket into her hands.

She stared at it, then frowned as recognition dawned.“I think those are the winning numbers from two days ago,” she said slowly. She locked eyes with her husband, and then they were both frantically grabbing for their phones to look up the numbers.

“You’re right!” said Tex, a little quicker off the mark than her. “You’re absolutely right!”

“How much?” she asked. “How much did we win?”

“Fifty thousand, it says here,” said her husband, slowly looking up at her, then down at the ticket lying in her lap.

“Fifty thousand? But…”

“I don’t get it,” he said, taking a closer look at the envelope the ticket had arrived in. It was just a blank envelope, with nothing written on it. “How can this be?”

“Who cares?” said Marge, a smile slowly lighting up her face. “Madame Solange was right: we won the lottery, Tex! We won!”

“Yoo-hoo! Finally!”

And then they were both getting up and hugging it out before Marge realized being happy and celebrating their lottery success, no matter how strangely it had come about, was inappropriate with her brother still missing.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and they first looked at each other, then in the direction of the door. This time they both walked the short distance to open it, and they found a thickset cameraman standing before them, and an excited-looking young reporter with purple-framed glasses and a yellow goatee sticking a microphone under their noses.

“WLBC-9—your best source of local news! Tex and Marge Poole?”

Tex and Marge nodded dumbly.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” said the guy, “but I believe you’re both familiar with a person named Madame Solange?”

Once more, Tex and Marge nodded dumbly.

“I’d like to ask you a couple of questions. But first, the most important one: did you or didn’t you recently win the lottery?”

“We did,” said Marge, finally finding her voice.

“We just found out,” added Tex.

“Wonderful! Amazing! Great! You will remember that your visit to Madame Solange a couple of days ago was being taped, right?”

Vaguely Marge remembered that Madame Solange had warned them the consult was being recorded. She hadn’t minded, figuring it was probably some security thing.

“We’ve been following Madame Solange around for the past six months, all part of a series on fortune tellers and paranormal phenomena, and as a follow-up we also like to talk to the people whose fortunes she predicted. People like you, Marge and Tex Poole.”

“Okay,” said Marge, understanding dawning. “So you want to see how accurate Madame Solange’s predications are, is that it?”

“Exactly! So tell us, Marge Poole, how much did Madame Solange predict you’d win?”

“She didn’t give us a specific number, but she did say it would be a hefty sum.”

“And how much did you win?”

“Fifty thousand,” said Tex with a big smile, and showed the camera crew the winning lottery ticket in question.

“And as far as your prediction goes, Tex Poole, what did Madame Solange tell you?”

“She said I’d go on a Caribbean cruise,” said Tex, his smile fading a little.

“And have you made plans in that direction?” asked the reporter.

“Not yet,” said Tex, then glanced down at the lottery ticket, then at his wife, and his smile returned in full force. “But I guess now we can finally take that cruise we’ve been talking about, honey!”

“Oh, my God!” said Marge. “Of course!”

“Oo-wee!” said the reporter. “Looks like Madame Solange was right on the… money!”

Marge would have told the guy that the ticket had magically appeared in their mailbox, but in the face of their big win that seemed like such a minor detail now. And since it would only detract from the bigger picture, which was that they’d won a big bundle of cash, and were finally going on that cruise, she decided not to bother.

Madame Solange had been right. Twice! That was the main takeaway here.

Chapter 15

Harriet and Brutus had been wandering through town, and had finally arrived at their destination: the house where Charlene Butterwick lived.

“So this is the place, huh?” said Brutus, panting a little. It had been a long walk, and his paws were hurting.

“Yep, this is it,” said Harriet. “So let’s start hunting around for clues, snuggle pooh. I’m pretty sure these kidnappers must have left some.”

Brutus would have reminded Harriet that clues weren’t like breadcrumbs: you couldn’t just strew them around here and there, but felt that Harriet was right in another regard: surely these kidnappers had been seen by someone? So what they needed to do now was find these someones and grill them for information until they cracked.

“Let’s go talk to that big guy over there,” Harriet suggested, and pointed to a very large canine who stood barking at them from behind a fence.

Brutus, who disliked dogs as much as the next cat, wasn’t all that keen on making this particular dog’s acquaintance, but then again, a clue was a clue, and they needed to find Uncle Alec, didn’t they?

So they both traipsed across the street and joined the large dog, who was yapping even louder now that two cats looked like they were about to invade his territory.

“Cool it, buddy,” said Harriet. “All we want is some information.”

“No way are you setting paw in here,” said the dog in response. He was a big brown dog, and if Brutus wasn’t mistaken belonged to the Danish Dog variety.

“What makes you think we’re even remotely interested in setting paw in there?” asked Harriet. “We have our own homes, dog, so you can keep yours, all right?”

“Oh,” said the dog, not expecting this comeback. “So what do you want, exactly?”

“A crime was committed across the street,” said Harriet. “A man was kidnapped, and we were wondering if you saw something.”

“Yeah, I saw something,” said the dog, giving Harriet a curious look. It probably wasn’t every day that cats came inquiring after kidnapped people. “So what’s it to you?”

“That man is our human’s brother,” said Brutus, “and she would like to get him back before these bad men hurt him beyond repair.”

“Well said, Brutus,” said Harriet. “So how about it? What can you tell us?”

The dog sank down on his haunches and gave them a sly look.“What’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of having solved a crime, that’s what,” said Harriet, and it was immediately clear the dog wasn’t all that happy with her answer, for he made a face.

“I’m not into solving crime, cat, so I don’t really care if you find your human or not.”

Harriet cocked her head.“You don’t care if Alec Lip is found? Chief of police and the person in charge of the police station?”

“Nope. I don’t care one bit,” said the dog, and yawned cavernously to show them exactly how little he cared about Uncle Alec’s fate.

“You do know that the chief of police in this town is also in charge of the rules and regulations governing the use of our parks and sidewalks, don’t you? And so far I think Chief Alec has been very lenient when it comes to dogs being able to do their business both on those same sidewalks and in those same parks. But what if I tell you his second-in-command, Chase Kingsley, who now stands to take over, takes a much harder line?”

“He does?” asked the dog, showing signs of concern.

“Oh, sure. Chase Kingsley hates dogs with a vengeance. He was once bitten by a dog, you see, and he’s made it his mission in life to make your lives as miserable as he can.”

The dog glanced at Brutus, who nodded solemnly.“You’re in for a very bumpy ride, buddy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about the new ordinance forbidding dogs to be walked,” said Harriet. “Forcing their owners to make them do their business in litter boxes from now on. So no more walks in the park for you, sir. No more refreshing rambles along the sidewalks and the roads of our town. And most importantly no more walks along the beach.”

“No more walks along the beach!”

“Oh, for sure. You’ll be cooped up inside for the rest of your natural life, Mr…”

“Buddy,” said Buddy sadly.

“No more running wild and free. No more doing your business al fresco. No more—”

“All right, all right! I get your point! What do you want?”

“If we can find Chief Alec, and he’s reinstated as Chief of Police, Kingsley won’t be able to carry through his frankly apocalyptic plans, and your life will go on the way it always has. So are you going to help us find Chief Alec or do you prefer Kingsley to be the new chief?”

“No! Please not Chief Kingsley! I like to run along the beach, and I love to do my business al fresco! I’ll tell you everything I know!”

Harriet gave her friend and partner a cheeky wink and he grinned. Harriet would have made a great police cat.

“So tell us what you saw.”

“Three guys, heavily built, all wearing masks when they came out of the house. But then one took off his mask, and he had a shaven head, cause it reflected the light from that lamplight over there. He looked like a real tough guy, with a crooked nose and a jutting chin. He also had cauliflower ears.”

“Excellent powers of observation, Buddy,” said Brutus appreciatively.

“Thanks. The nights get pretty lonely out here, so I like to spend them people watching.”

“Anything else?” asked Harriet.

“Well, they came out with a fourth guy, who didn’t seem to like what was going on, for he kept struggling. He had a hood over his head, and his hands were tied behind his back.”

“That was Chief Alec,” said Brutus.

“They put him in a panel van and drove off, and that’s all I know.”

“Did you catch the license plate?” asked Harriet.

“Lady, I’m not a cop, all right? I don’t care about license plates, unless my owner gives me one I can chew on. All I know is that the van was the same type of van my owner’s got. An old Ford van. Looks like a big box on wheels?”

“Color?”

“Dark green. And did I say it was an old model? You should have heard the racket that thing was making, and the fumes spewing from that exhaust!” He shook his head. “They should probably have that looked at.”

“I’ll tell them when I see them,” said Harriet laconically. “Well, Buddy,” she said, holding out a paw. “Thank you so much for the information.”

Buddy tapped her paw, then tapped Brutus’s paw, and said, “For a pair of cats you guys ain’t half bad.”

“And for a dog you ain’t so bad either,” Harriet said with a smile.

Buddy laughed.“Wait till I tell the boys that I saved their lives by helping out a couple of cats! They’ll never believe me!”

And as they turned away from Buddy, they almost bumped into… Max and Dooley, tied to leashes, and being walked by… Charlene Butterwick!

Chapter 16

I was more than a little surprised when we returned from our walk and saw none other than Harriet and Brutus suddenly showing up.

“What are you doing here?” asked Harriet.

“What areyou doing here?” I countered.

“Hey, aren’t you the rest of Odelia’s cats?” asked Charlene, who’d also spotted the new arrivals.

“Gran gave us to Charlene as a present,” said Dooley sadly. “We belong to Charlene now, me and Max.”

“Are those… leashes?” asked Brutus, staring at the strange contraptions.

“And… collars?” asked Harriet.

I could have sunk through the pavement from sheer embarrassment. It’s never a pleasant experience for a cat to be seen wearing a collar, or, God forbid, a dog leash, and so I reluctantly acknowledged the fact. “Charlene isn’t familiar with cats,” I said. “She thinks we have to be walked two or three times a day, like dogs, hence the leashes.”

“And Gran has given us these collars,” Dooley explained. “She put bugs in them, though they don’t bite.”

“Bugs as in electronic listening devices,” I clarified. “She wants to listen in on Charlene, still thinking she somehow tricked Uncle Alec into marriage.”

“She put the house full of bugs, too,” said Dooley, “but she assured us they’re not the kind of bugs that will multiply like crazy and make us sick.”

“Wow,” said Harriet. “And here we thought Gran had chosen you for some cushy job. And all the while you’re more to be pitied than envied, I must say.”

“Yeah, but at least we got fed turkey,” I said a little defensively. “So there’s that.”

“And there’s plenty more where that came from,” added Dooley.

Harriet and Brutus shared a look.“I like turkey,” said Harriet.

“Ilove turkey,” said Brutus.

And both directed a very obvious but very effective pleading look at Charlene, who now smiled and said,“I think I’ll take you guys inside with me. You missed your friends, didn’t you? Of course you did.”

I could have told her that cats are solitary creatures who only very rarely miss their friends, but I had to admit she had a point. I had thought about what life would be like without Harriet and Brutus from now on, and it had seemed a little bleak, to be honest.

So the four of us followed the Mayor into her home, and before long we were all snacking on that delicious turkey meat, that must have cost her an arm and a leg.

“I think I know what happened to Uncle Alec,” said Harriet between two bites of the delicacy. “Buddy from across the street saw the men that took him. He says one of them had a shaven head and cauliflower ears, and they were driving an old dark green Ford van with a busted exhaust pipe. He didn’t catch the license plate but now I’m thinking: how many dark green Ford vans can there possibly be driving on these streets, right?”

“We have to tell Chase,” I said.

Only problem was: how were we ever going to talk to Chase now that we were pretty much locked up inside Charlene’s home?

“Oh, and Charlene thinks she saw Uncle Alec,” said Dooley. “Only it wasn’t Uncle Alec but someone who looked just like him but with more hair. His real name is Wolf and he was riding on a trailer next to his wife, a woman named Madame Solange.”

“Marge and Tex visited someone called Madame Solange a couple of days ago,” said Harriet. “They were pretty excited when they got home. Couldn’t stop talking about it.”

“This Solange promised they’d win the lottery,” said Brutus.

“And a Caribbean cruise,” said Harriet.

“So she’s a fortune teller,” I said with a shrug.

“What’s a fortune teller, Max?” asked Dooley.

“It’s a woman who can tell you about your future,” I said. “Though I’m not sure it’s not just a trick.”

“This Madame Solange can tell us about our future?” he asked, looking up from his close inspection of the substance on his porcelain plate.

“That’s what she claims, anyway.”

“Maybe we should go and talk to her. I would like to know about my future.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Brutus. “What if she predicts something bad? I don’t want to know something bad is going to happen to me.”

“I think I’d want to know if something bad will happen,” Harriet mused. “That way I can make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“Oh, it will happen,” said Brutus, “and not much you can do about it.”

“No, but what if she predicts, like, that I’ll be run over by a truck on April the 14th at three o’clock in the afternoon? All I have to do is stay home that day, and I’ll be fine.”

“It’ll happen some other day,” Brutus said. “You can’t cheat death, Harriet. It’ll find a way to make that prediction come true. So it’s better not to know, so you don’t worry.”

“I still say we pay a visit to this Madame Solange,” said Harriet stubbornly.

“So I’ve made the bed in the guest room for you guys,” said Charlene. “I hope that suits you. I’m sorry, but I have no idea how to take care of four cats,” she added, and then abruptly disappeared again.

“She seems a little frazzled,” said Harriet.

“Completely out of it,” said Brutus, shaking his head.

“That’s only to be expected after what she went through,” I said. “I think she should probably go and see a shrink.”

“What does a shrink do, Max?” asked Dooley.

“They shrink people’s heads,” said Brutus with a grin. “So their heads don’t bother them so much anymore.”

Dooley stared at him.“Shrink their heads! But how?”

“Well, shrinks have special machines that turn people’s heads the size of a peanut.”

“Oh, no!”

“Don’t listen to him, Dooley,” I said. “A shrink is a person who digs deep into a person’s psyche and tries to help them come to terms with certain traumatic experiences, like their boyfriends being snatched right from under their noses.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, nodding, and gave Brutus a slightly offended look, which the latter totally ignored.

“That was great, you guys,” said Harriet. “But now I’m afraid Brutus and I have to get going. We need to tell Chase what we discovered, so he can find Uncle Alec.”

And so she and Brutus walked over to the front door, only to discover that it missed one very important addition: a pet flap.

So they moved over to the back door, which was a sliding glass door, just like the one Odelia has, but of course there was no pet flap there either. And when they both started whining, and then started scratching the glass to be let out, Charlene merely said,“Oh, how cute!” and went about her business without bothering to open the door.

She probably thought this was normal behavior for cats.

And so we were all locked in there with a slightly loopy Mayor—possibly for eternity!

Chapter 17

“So what do you hear?” asked Scarlett.

Vesta, who was frowning and listening intently, said,“Shush!” then listened some more. “I hear exactly nothing! Nothing!” she said finally, and took off her earphones. “Are you sure this stuff works?”

“The guy at the store said it works just fine. You plant the bugs, then you download the app, and you listen! How hard can it be?”

“Huh,” said Vesta, and picked up the brochure Scarlett had gotten when she bought the surveillance equipment. She leafed through it. “So… you put the batteries in, right?”

“Oh, sure. The guy at the store put in all the batteries.”

“So did you turn them on?” When Scarlett didn’t respond, Vesta glanced over to her friend. “You did turn on the bugs, right?”

“Um…” said Scarlett, studying a long fingernail.

“Oh, Scarlett!”

“I forgot, okay!”

“I turned on mine, and we know they work, because we got a clear signal from them before, which means we can only hear Charlene when she’s downstairs in the living room.” She gave her friend a hard look. “So no feed from the bedroom, the bathroom, or Charlene’s home office—that’s justgreat!”

“Look, I’m not a professional bug person, okay? If you wanted a professional bug person you should have asked your granddaughter to tag along.”

“Odelia probably doesn’t know the first thing about bugs either,” Vesta grunted.

“Who does?!”

“Okay, so this is not a problem. We simply go back in there tomorrow and turn on all of the bugsyou planted.” She hadn’t mentioned this to Scarlett, but unfortunately she herself had completely forgotten to turn on the bugs she planted on the cats, too! Aargh!

“And what are you going to tell Charlene? We forgot to turn on our listening devices so just give us a minute and we’ll go and do that now?”

“No, you just lure her into the backyard with some excuse while I check on the bugs. And at least now we know we need to double-check the bugs we plant at Town Hall.”

“Fine. So when do you want to do this?”

“We better do it now. I’m getting tired of sitting in this damn car.”

They’d returned from Town Hall to sit in front of Charlene’s house for a while, hoping to get the goods on the Mayor, but the bug fiasco had thrown a spanner in the works. First they’d heard the woman loud and clear, but probably she’d retired to bed, and since Scarlett hadn’t turned on the bugs upstairs—end of broadcast! The two elderly wannabe spies had already ordered pizza, delivered to the car by a pizza delivery kid who gave them funny looks, and they’d also ordered a big meal from a Chinese food delivery guy, who’d given them even funnier looks. Their sanitary needs had been taken care of by using a local park, where they’d ducked behind some bushes to do their business.

All in all this whole spy business was a lot less glamorous than it was on TV!

And since there was nothing more to be gleaned from staking out Charlene’s house, Vesta drove them across town and parked in front of Town Hall once more. This time all was dark inside, and so the time for some action-packed shenanigans had finally arrived!

“Okay, let’s do this!” said Scarlett, and when Vesta didn’t move, she frowned. “What is it? Having second thoughts?”

“No, I’m just wondering why my son still hasn’t returned any of my calls.”

They’d even walked over to the police station before to catch him in his office but he hadn’t been behind his desk, and when they’d asked Dolores where the Chief was, the dispatcher-slash-receptionist had said she had no clue, which was pretty weird.

Almost as if Alec had simply… disappeared.

“You don’t think Charlene killed him, do you?” asked Scarlett now.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s like one of those Praying Mantises: the ones that kill their mate once they’ve squeezed all the juice out of them.”

“Ugh. Please don’t talk about your son’s juice, Vesta. It’s gross.”

“It’s just a metaphor!”

“Even so, it’s gross.” They both sat there for a moment, then Scarlett said, “When we pay another visit to Charlene tomorrow we need to search that place top to bottom. If she did kill your son, we need to find him so we have proof.”

“I know,” said Vesta, the thought of her son having been murdered by this Praying Mantis Mayor weighing heavy on her.

“Because if we don’t have proof, she’ll simply pretend nothing happened, and we’ll never be able to pin his murder on her.”

“I know.”

“She’s a politician, and she’ll get away with it.”

“I know, okay?”

“I don’t think you do, Vesta,” said Scarlett, turning to her friend. “If she killed your son, and we find out, she’ll come for us, too!”

Vesta gulped a little.“I knew she was bad news the minute I laid eyes on her.”

“I thought you said she was the best thing that ever could have happened to Alec?”

“I never said that!”

“Fine. So let’s go already, shall we? And let’s search her office, too. She may have killed him in there and stashed his body underneath the floorboards.”

“Oh, Christ,” said Vesta, and they both got out of the car and quickly made their way over to Town hall, which was cloaked in darkness, only the front lit up by halogen lights.

They circled around to the back, and took a concrete staircase down into a recessed area that led to a metal door which gave access to a basement few people knew existed.

The metal door was locked tight, of course, but they’d anticipated this, and as Scarlett put on her protective mask, and so did Vesta, the latter took out the blowtorch Scarlett had bought earlier that day and started burning a big hole in that metal door.

So when five minutes later the night guard did his second tour of the night, and found two old ladies using a blowtorch to break into Town Hall, he immediately called for backup, then proceeded to point a very large gun at the two ladies before yelling,“Put your weapons down now! And put your hands where I can see them!”

And so it was that Scarlett Canyon and Vesta Muffin were being arrested for breaking and entering… again.

Chapter 18

I was starting to get a little worried that we might never be able to escape Charlene’s abode, but luckily I suddenly remembered that I needn’t have worried: we were, after all, in contact with Gran at all times, through the bugs hidden in our collars!

So I simply said,“Gran, if you can hear me, I think now might be a good time to come and get us. Charlene is acting a little weird, and now Harriet and Brutus are also here with us, and they’ve found a great clue as to Uncle Alec’s whereabouts.”

Look, I know I said I wasn’t going to tell Gran what had happened to her son, but necessity knows no law, and we couldn’t simply keep this vital clue to ourselves when Uncle Alec’s life was in danger and the clue could lead us to his kidnappers, could we?

“Gran?” said Dooley, also speaking into his collar. “Are you there?”

“This isn’t a two-way bug, Dooley,” I said. “Gran can hear us, but she can’t talk to us.”

“Oh,” he said, looking disappointed. “But then how do we know if she’s listening?”

“Of course she’s listening,” I said. “You don’t think Gran would send us in here and leave us to our own devices, do you? She’s listening right now, and hearing every word we say.”

“Gran, we just want you to know that Brutus and I found the clue,” said Harriet, speaking into my collar. “We did—not Max or Dooley. Just making that very clear.”

“Yeah, we talked to Buddy and Buddy told us what happened,” Brutus added for good measure. “And by us I obviously mean Harriet and myself—not Max and not Dooley.”

“Okay, you don’t have to rub it in,” I said. “You found the clue, and so all the credit goes to you guys.”

“Gran, did you get all that?” said Harriet. “Max has just admitted that Brutus and I are much, much smarter than he is.”

“I didn’t say that!” I cried.

“No, but you implied it.”

“I did no such thing!”

“It did sound like that to me, Max,” said Brutus, giving me an impish grin. “And I’m pretty sure it sounded like that to Gran, too. Isn’t that right, Gran?!” he practically yelled into my collar.

“She’s not deaf, Brutus,” I said. “These bugs are highly sensitive gadgets and they pick up the minutest sound.”

“I hope she’s recording this. I want it on the record that Max said we’re smarter than him,” said Harriet.

“Oh, God,” I groaned.

“So when is she going to come and get us, Max?” asked Dooley.

“Soon, Dooley,” I said. “Very soon now.”

Harriet checked the big clock over the kitchen counter.“So she’s only a couple of minutes away, right? And if she’s hearing this now, she should be here in… ten?”

“Oh, that’s great,” said Dooley. “I didn’t want to say this before? But I kinda miss home, you know. And I miss my own humans.”

“Yeah, me, too, Dooley,” I admitted. Charlene was nice and all, and she served us up some delicious food, on gorgeous plates, but life is about more than just food and a soft couch, or even a cozy guest bedroom. It’s also about the humans you decide to share your life with, and Charlene was agreat human, but she wasn’t our human.

“Are you guys still up?” the Mayor said, popping her head from the bedroom to see what we were up to. “Don’t you like the space I prepared for you?”

So we followed her into the spare bedroom and when we saw the nice bed she’d made for us, I felt bad that soon Gran would ring the front door and announce that she was taking us home again.

“Okay, so maybe we can stay a little while longer,” I now announced to my collar. “Charlene looks like she could use the company. So please come and get us in the morning, Gran. But wait until we’ve had breakfast. This turkey really is something else.”

And besides, we’d told Gran all about the great clues Harriet and Brutus had found, so it didn’t really matter now if she came to find us or not.

And then Charlene looked so sad that instead of spending the night in the guest bedroom, we followed her into her own bedroom instead, and before long we were fast asleep on the Mayoral bed, the first time I’d ever slept in the presence of a VIP, I have to say.

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Odelia frowned and shook her head.“I don’t get it. They never take off like this. Never.”

“I know, babe. Have you tried your Gran’s phone?”

“Yeah, she’s not picking up.”

They were in the bedroom, but Odelia couldn’t sleep, as she hadn’t seen her cats all day. She’d even gone over to her mom and dad’s, and had found her parental unit looking decidedly happy for some reason, but of their four felines there was not a single trace.

“Maybe they’ve gone to the park?” Chase suggested. “They go there every night.”

“Yeah, but not without saying goodbye, and not before they’ve eaten their fill.”

Max and Dooley hadn’t touched their bowls, and neither had Harriet or Brutus.

No, something was wrong, she could feel it in her bones. Something was very wrong.

She turned on the television, to take her mind off her cats for a moment, and her uncle’s abduction, and great was her surprise when suddenly her mom and dad’s faces appeared right there on the screen!

“What the….” she said as she sat up with a jerk and turned up the volume. And both she and Chase watched with rising indignation as her mom and dad were interviewed by a reporter from WLBC-9, about some money they’d apparently won in the lottery!

“So that’s why Mom and Dad were acting so weird! They saw Madame Solange and now they’ve gone and won the lottery!”

“But why didn’t they tell us?”

“I don’t know!” She swung her feet from the bed. “But I’m going to find out!”

“But, honey, they’re probably asleep.”

“I don’t care! They lied to me!”

“They didn’t exactly lie to you. They just didn’t tell you what they were up to.”

“Withholding information is the same thing as lying!”

“Come on, babe. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“No, it can’t!” she said, and was thundering down the stairs before he could stop her.

Moments later she was charging into her parents’ house, stomping up the stairs, and bursting into their bedroom, where they, too, were watching the same broadcast!

Judging from the sheepish looks they gave her, they knew very well they did something they shouldn’t have.

“Honey, we can explain,” said her mother.

“You hate those fortune tellers, and so you should!” Dad added.

“So when Madame Solange said we’d win the lottery, we decided not to tell you because—”

“—you would have been upset—”

“—and we didn’t want to jinx things.”

“And now we won!” said Dad. “So yay!”

“I don’t believe you played the lottery,” said Odelia, “while Uncle Alec is languishing in some hellhole somewhere, hoping we’re working around the clock to save his life!”

“But, honey, what can we do?” asked her mom.

“Yeah, we’re not cops!” said her dad.

“No, but you’re family,” she countered. Both her mom and dad hung their heads, and suddenly she felt sorry for them, and embarrassed by her outburst. “Look, I’m sorry, all right,” she said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “How much did you win?”

Both heads came up again, and a gleam appeared in her parents’ eyes. “Fifty thousand smackeroos!” said her dad.

“And we’re going to spend it on a cruise!” her mom added.

“And your wedding, of course,” said her dad.

“Oh, Dad,” said Odelia with a sigh. She glanced over to the television. “So Madame Solange is the real deal, huh? Maybe she can tell us where Uncle Alec is?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” said Mom. “We’ll go tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be able to tell us where Alec is in a heartbeat.” She thunked her head. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”

Just then, Chase entered the room, looking a little trepidatious.“Um, I just got a call from Dolores,” he said, holding up his phone. “Your grandmother and Scarlett have just been arrested for trespassing. They tried to break into Town Hall for some reason.”

Now three members of the Poole family thunked their heads.

“Oh, and also?” the cop continued, clearly nervous to be standing in the bedroom of his future in-laws. “They claim Charlene killed Alec, so that’s an interesting development.”

Chapter 19

Look, Charlene Butterwick is a perfectly nice person, don’t get me wrong, but spending the night at the foot of her bed wasn’t exactly the same thing as spending the night at the foot of my own human’s bed.

I’m not saying that in due course I wouldn’t have grown to love and appreciate Charlene, especially since she kept feeding us morsels of the tastiest food I’d eaten in quite a while, but as of this moment I was starting to feel that Gran hadn’t done us a great service by giving us away to her future daughter-in-law.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this, Max,” said Harriet, clearly of the same opinion. “I mean, Charlene is a great person and all, and the food is just to die for, but honestly? I’d much rather be home right now and eating some of our regular kibble.”

“Me, too,” Brutus grunted. “And the first chance I get I’m staging an escape.”

“Oh, can I come, too, Brutus?” asked Dooley. “I miss my usual spot on the couch.”

“Sure. I think if we’re going to do this, we should all work together.”

“But what is Gran going to say?” I said, still feeling under the obligation to the woman who’d put us there. “She’s not going to like it when Dooley and I blow this assignment simply because we feel homesick.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand,” said Harriet. “After all, she couldn’t possibly have been serious when she handed over ownership to Charlene—or could she?”

We shared a speculative look, then cut a glance to Charlene, who was tossing and turning in her sleep and clearly not having a great night.

“Poor Charlene,” said Harriet. “She’s clearly suffering.”

“We really should be out there looking for Uncle Alec, not in here,” said Brutus.

“All right,” I said finally, having come to a decision. “Gran won’t like it, but that can’t be helped.” I spoke into my collar again. “Gran, if you’re still listening, we’re getting out of here. So no need to come and get us in the morning because we won’t be here. We want to keep looking for Uncle Alec, and we can’t do that being cooped up in here with Charlene.”

“But won’t Charlene be upset if she wakes up in the morning and finds us all gone?” asked Dooley, showing what a considerate cat he really is: even in this, not our finest hour, his thoughts went out to Charlene Butterwick, who wasn’t even our own human.

“I think she’ll understand,” I said.

And so it was decided: we were going to stage the great escape, and bust out of this benign prison cell. Like the proverbial bird in the gilded cage, it was time to find our freedom.

So we tripped down the stairs and into the spacious living room, then started searching for an avenue of escape. We soon discovered it wasn’t going to be as easy as we’d anticipated: as I’ve already indicated Charlene doesn’t believe in the concept of the pet flap, and all the doors and windows were tightly sealed.

“This place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox,” Brutus had to admit after a cursory inspection of the modes of access and egress. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get out.”

Just then, a fly came buzzing past, and I recognized him as Norm, my airborne buddy.

“Hey, Norm,” I said. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Max!” said Norm, panting a little. “You’re a hard cat to find! I’ve been looking all over the place!”

“Yeah, we got transferred here this morning, and have been pretty much stuck.”

“Um, Mr. Norm?” said Dooley. “Can I ask you a question, please, sir? Is it true that you spread a lot of germs and bacteria and make a lot of people and pets very sick?”

“Now don’t start with that, young cat,” said Norm censoriously. “I can assure you that’s all fake news.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, nodding. “Okay.”

“Flies only spread happiness and good cheer. Now have I got news for you guys!”

“Pray tell,” I said. I frankly could use all the happiness and good cheer I could find.

“So first I followed your Grandma Muffin around for a while. She and Scarlett Canyon are on a mission to prove that Charlene Butterwick is trying to blackmail your Uncle Alec into wedlock.”

“Old news,” said Harriet. “Uncle Alec was kidnapped, and the wedding was announced because the kidnappers demanded it.”

“Oh,” said the fly, slightly taken aback. “Okay. Well, so then I buzzed back to the house and one of your other humans has just won the lottery—only there’s something really strange going on, as they received the winning ticket in the mail.”

“The mail?” I asked with a frown. “You’re right. That is weird.”

“I thought so, too,” said Norm, clearly happy that at least this bit of news was news to us, too. “So then suddenly a television crew showed up on their doorstep, and seemed to know all about their big win, and claimed Madame Solange had predicted it.”

“See?” said Harriet. “We need to pay a visit to Madame Solange. Maybe she’ll help us win the lottery, too.”

“And that’s not all,” said Norm, who was turning out to be a regular fine little sleuth. “Just before I left, Chase got a phone call from a woman named Dolores, claiming that Gran has been arrested, along with Scarlett, for trying to break into Town Hall.”

“What?!” I said, greatly surprised.

“Yeah,” said Norm with satisfaction. “And also, Gran and Scarlett now think that Charlene killed Uncle Alec.”

“Oh, my God,” Harriet muttered.

“That sounds so like Gran,” said Brutus with a chuckle.

“But if Gran and Scarlett are in jail,” said Dooley, his eyes wide and fearful, “that means they won’t be able to hear us through our bugs. Which means…”

“That we’re stuck in here forever,” I finished his sentence.

“Oh, nonsense,” said Norm. “I managed to sneak in just fine, so you guys will be able to sneak out of here, too.”

We all perked up at this.“Where?” I asked. “Where did you sneak in, Norm?”

And Norm, proud as a peacock, buzzed off and led the way. Soon he took us into the kitchen, and before our very eyes, he flew straight into a ventilation grid located right above the kitchen window. Its holes were a perfect fit for a half-an-inch fly. Not such a good fit for a twenty-pound cat, though.

And so we were back to square one—and still stuck in our gilded cage!

I was starting to feel like one of those contestants on Big Brother, only we couldn’t even get voted out of the house!

Chapter 20

“What were you thinking, Ma?” said Marge, not very pleased with her mother’s latest stunt. They’d managed to bail both her and Scarlett out of jail, but that didn’t mean they were out of the woods yet.

“I was thinking that Charlene Butterwick is blackmailing Alec, that’s what I was thinking,” said Gran as she rubbed her back, sore from spending the past hour in the slammer.

“You should really invest in some nicer accommodations,” said Scarlett, addressing the duty sergeant who was busy drawing up the release papers. “Maybe a nice sofa, and a television. This is the twenty-first century, you know, not the middle ages.”

They were still at the police station, waiting for the final hurdles to be passed before Gran and her friend were free again.“You should be glad they’re releasing you now,” said Odelia, like her mother very unhappy with her grandmother’s shenanigans. Not least of all because she hated spending the night at the police station and not in her warm bed at home. “They could have easily kept you here until you appeared in front of the judge.”

“Oh, nonsense,” said Gran, waving an irritable hand. “All we did was try to make sure my son doesn’t get caught in a loveless marriage with a manipulative bride. And since when is that a crime?”

“It’s a crime when it involves breaking into Town Hall in the middle of the night,” said Chase, not unreasonably. He’d been most instrumental in securing the two elderly ladies’ early release, but so far they hadn’t exactly shown him any gratitude, only a lot of lip.

“Look, it’s pretty obvious that Charlene’s got something on my son,” said Gran now. “Or else he wouldn’t rush into this marriage without bothering to tell his mother first.”

Odelia shared a look with her own mother, and her dad, too.“I think we better tell her,” she said now. “Before she gets into any more trouble.”

“Tell me what?” said Gran. Then stomped an irritable foot. “I knew it! I knew there was something you weren’t telling me! She’s pregnant, isn’t she? And that’s why they’re going ahead with this shotgun wedding!”

“Ma, you better sit down,” said Odelia’s mother as she led her mom to a nearby bench.

“Oh, it’s that bad, huh?” said Gran, giving her daughter a worried look. “What is it? Did Alec kill someone and Charlene found out about it and now she’s blackmailing him?”

“No!” said Mom, rolling her eyes. “Why do you always have to assume the worst?”

“Because I know my son, and I know he’s probably got a lot of bodies buried all over the place. Buried them and threw away the keys.”

“What keys? What bodies!” Mom cried.

“Ask him—he knows,” said Gran, giving Chase a pointed look.

“Lord give me strength,” said Chase, closing his eyes and rubbing his face.

“The thing is, Ma,” said Mom, “that Alec was abducted. He and Charlene were home last night when suddenly three men forced their way in and took Alec.”

“What?” said Gran, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“Uncle Alec was taken, Gran,” said Odelia, crouching down in front of her grandmother and taking her hands in hers. “But we’re doing everything in our power to get him back, so please don’t worry, all right?”

“My son? Taken?” asked Gran, looking distinctly startled. “I don’t get it. What’s this gotta do with this wedding thing?”

“Well, one of the demands the kidnappers made was that Charlene had to announce the wedding in the local paper,” Mom explained.

“That makes no sense whatsoever,” said Scarlett, who’d also taken a seat and was rubbing her calves now. “Who are these kidnappers? Huey, Dewey and Louie?”

“It is a little unorthodox,” Odelia admitted.

“Unorthodox?” said Gran. “Unorthodox is when Father Reilly invites Morris dancers to liven up his service. This is just plain nuts.”

“How long have you known about this?” asked Scarlett.

“Well, since it happened,” said Mom, a little ruefully.

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” asked Gran.

“We didn’t want you to worry,” said Dad. “Your heart—”

“My heart is fine—better than yours!” Gran made to get up, but Mom sat her down again.

“Now promise me you won’t do anything stupid, Ma. Promise.”

“I never do anything stupid,” Gran growled. “It’s you that does all the stupid stuff, like not telling me my son has been kidnapped by Donald Duck’s nephews. Let’s get out of here, Scarlett. We’ve got a police chief to find.”

“Wait a minute,” said Odelia. “Have you seen the cats? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.”

“I gave them to Charlene as a wedding present,” said Gran, before walking out of the police station, leaving the rest of her family to stare after her.

“So much for not doing anything stupid,” murmured Odelia’s dad.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Wolf Moonblood stared out across his domain. Standing in the trailer he shared with his one true love Solange Moonblood, he’d built himself an empire: the biggest and most popular circus on the East Coast. The fact that he now saw the big top of Circus Moonblood rise above the rest of the fairground, dwarfing the many other stalls and trailers and attractions filled him with a distinct sense of pride.

He’d done all that. He’d made Circus Moonblood the success story it was today.

“Wolf?” asked a sleepy voice from the bed. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep,” grunted the tall and imposing circus director.

“Come back to bed, sweetheart,” said Solange, patting the space beside her.

Wolf gazed out at the fairground, its lights twinkling invitingly in spite of the late hour, and drained the last of his herbal tea, then stomped through the trailer he and Solange shared and sat down on the edge of the bunk.

“What’s on your mind?” asked Solange, rubbing his broad back.

“Strange dreams,” he grunted. “Dreams of a life I didn’t even know existed.”

“What kind of life?” asked Solange, a tinge of worry in her melodious voice. With her long fair hair and her striking green eyes she was a remarkable appearance.

“I can’t recall,” said the circus owner. “Something about… cats.”

“That’s not so bad, is it? Cats are important.” Circus Moonblood prided itself in its collection of big cats: they had tigers, lions, and even a puma, whose roar could often be heard in the middle of the night.

Wolf nodded, and rubbed his rust-colored mustache. His rugged features and sizable bulk never failed to impress. He was a father figure to the group of entertainers the circus traveled with, but also a force to be reckoned with—a giant of a man.

“Go back to sleep,” said Solange. “Did you drink the tea my sister made you?”

“I did.”

“It’ll help you sleep. Just lie down and soon those dreams will be a thing of the past.”

“I hope so,” he said, stretching himself out on the bunk. “I don’t like these dreams, Solange. They make me feel… uneasy in my mind.”

Solange smiled and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek.“It’s this town,” she said. “I’ve told you from the beginning there’s something very strange about this town. Soon we’ll move on, and those dreams will disappear.”

“Good,” he growled, and soon was asleep once more.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Solange stared down at her partner, and as soon as he’d tumbled into a restless sleep, her smile disappeared and a frown appeared on her alabaster brow. The tea was working, but still she wasn’t satisfied. These dreams Wolf kept having troubled her. She vowed to talk to her sister again tomorrow, to see if nothing further could be done.

The circus depended on Wolf’s good health and untroubled state of mind, and frankly her own personal happiness depended on him, too.

She hated seeing him like this. And as she lay down next to her husband, she considered moving along before their time in Hampton Cove was up. Clearly this town was having a detrimental influence, and the sooner they left it in their rearview mirror, the better.

Chapter 21

Charlene had slept but fitfully. She was, of course, used to dealing with stress and the pressures that came with being mayor of a small town, but she’d never been the victim of a home invasion before, and she didn’t really think she was handling things very well.

And as she opened her eyes, she became aware of four cats’ eyes staring at her intently from the foot of the bed, and groaned.

Just what she needed right now: the added responsibility of four pets.

At least two of them she could hand back to their owners, but the others? How had she ever allowed herself to be convinced it was a good idea to suddenly adopt two cats?

And as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the plaintive meows of the biggest cat of the bunch made itself heard. It was a sound that cut through her like a knife, and was not to be ignored.

So maybe this was a good thing? At least now she’d have to get out of bed and deal with her newly acquired pets’ bathroom needs.

The second cat added its voice to the choir, and soon all four cats were meowing and creating quite the spectacle. A private concert, in her own bedroom!

“All right, all right,” she said, and threw off the comforter and got up. “Let’s get you outside first, before you do your business all over my carpets.”

The cats looked at her as if she’d just personally insulted them, and she now wished she was just like Odelia Poole and her mom and grandma: they could talk to these strange creatures, and probably understand everything they said.

She slipped her feet into her slippers and tied the sash of her dressing gown around her and then slouched out of the room, her hair a mess, and her eyes puffy.

She didn’t care. If her neighbors wanted to snap pictures of her and post them on their Instagram or Facebook, they could go right ahead and do it.

She noticed how two of the cats didn’t have collars, so she took a couple of dog collars from her closet, part of a shipment destined for the animal shelter, and tied them to the cats’ necks. If they weren’t totally at ease with the procedure, she decided to ignore them. She couldn’t risk them running off. The Pooles would kill her if they did.

And so it was that ten minutes later Charlene Butterwick, Mayor of Hampton Cove, could be seen wandering around the neighborhood, walking four cats, who were plaintively meowing all the while, looking like something the cats dragged in—or out.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“Look,” said Mom, pointing in the direction of a pink-clad figure on the sidewalk. “It’s Charlene. Oh, and she’s walking our cats!”

Odelia stared at the lonely figure.“She looks terrible,” she said, and that was an understatement. Charlene’s hair was a mess, and she was wearing a pink housecoat that had seen better days, her feet stuck in a pair of old slippers, her eyes half closed.

The cats, meanwhile, looked distinctly unhappy and were tugging at their leashes.

“I don’t think she’s a cat person,” said Mom with a shake of the head.

“No, definitely not,” Odelia agreed.

She quickly parked the car and both women got out. They’d waited until now to go and fetch their cats, even though Odelia had wanted to drop by Charlene’s house the moment she’d learned Gran had ‘given away’ their cats to the Mayor. But Mom had convinced her that showing up on the woman’s doorstep in the middle of the night was a bad idea, so she’d decided to wait until morning.

At the crack of dawn she’d gotten up, met her mom in front of the house, and they’d set off on their cat rescue mission.

“I can’t believe Gran would give away our cats,” said Odelia for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, of all the stunts she’s ever pulled this one takes the cake,” said Mom. “Charlene! Hi!” she said, waving at the Mayor.

“Oh, hiya, Marge,” said Charlene. “Odelia. Any news?” she asked eagerly.

“Nothing yet,” said Odelia. “But we’re working on it.” Or rather Chase was working on it. “Um, so I see you’ve got our cats there?”

Charlene glanced down, as if seeing the cats for the first time.“Oh, that’s right. Vesta dropped them off yesterday. She said they were a wedding gift, and the other two I found wandering in the street last night so I took them in.”

“The thing is, Charlene,” said Mom, “that my mother has an eccentric streak.”

“What she means is that Gran didn’t ask our permission to give away the cats,” Odelia specified.

“Oh,” said Charlene, and frowned as she processed this.

“Are you all right, honey?” asked Mom, her voice laced with concern. “You don’t look so hot.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” said Charlene, shaking her head as if trying to clear it. “I’ve been feeling really weird ever since Alec was taken. Not myself, if you know what I mean. Foggy in my mind.”

“Yeah, I can see you’re not yourself,” said Odelia. “Do you want us to take you to see my dad?”

“Your dad?” asked Charlene vaguely, her eyes glazing over and swaying like a reed in the breeze.

“We better put you in the car,” said Mom, and supported the Mayor before she toppled over. “Take her other arm, honey. That’s it. Nice and easy. There we go.”

And together both women escorted Charlene into Odelia’s pickup. The moment they had, the woman simply keeled over on the backseat and became unresponsive.

“Oh, dear,” said Mom. “I think she lost consciousness, honey.”

“Let’s take her to see Dad,” said Odelia, then gestured for her cats to jump into the car, and they didn’t hesitate one moment but all eagerly did as she suggested.

“Shouldn’t we lock up Charlene’s house or something?” asked Mom, darting a quick look at the Mayor’s residence.

“She locked it before she set out for our morning walk,” said Max.

“Yeah, she locked it up tight,” said Harriet, sounding distinctly unhappy.

A fly had managed to sneak into the car, and Odelia swatted at it now, before Max said,“Please don’t kill my friend. That’s Norm,” he explained to the stunned women. “Norm has been helping us find Uncle Alec.”

And as Odelia started the engine, she shared a look of concern with her mother. Talking cats was one thing, but a fly? Life was quickly becoming very interesting indeed.

Chapter 22

I was so happy to see my human again I would have jumped into her arms if she hadn’t been trying to steer her car through morning traffic.

“We thought we’d never escape,” I said eagerly.

“Yeah, Charlene is a nice person and all,” said Harriet, “but that house of hers is like a fortress. No way in or out!”

“She does have some nice meat to offer,” said Brutus, stressing one of the Mayor’s many positive points.

“She’s no Odelia, though,” said Dooley, pointing out the main negative aspect of the matter.

Odelia shot us a look of concern through the rearview mirror.“If I’d known Gran was going to give you away I would have stopped her. You know that, right?”

“Problem is that my mother never announces her crazy ideas before she sets them in motion,” Marge explained in an apologetic tone. “So I’m truly sorry you guys had to go through this, and I wish I could promise you it will never happen again, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

“But we are going to have a long talk with Gran and explain to her that our cats are not chattel. You’re part of the family, and you simply don’t give away family members as if they were a mere toy or gadget.”

Odelia sounded upset, and so did Marge, and I shouldn’t wonder. I did have one minor point to add to the conversation, though. “I don’t think she actually meant to give us away for good, though,” I said. “It’s entirely possible this was just a ruse on her part to smuggle us into Charlene’s house, along with the rest of the bugs.”

“Bugs? What bugs?” asked Marge, turning to face me. She was riding shotgun while her daughter gunned the engine and practically flew along the road.

“Gran planted a lot of bugs in Charlene’s house,” Dooley explained. “And she said she was going to plant more bugs in Charlene’s car and in her office, too.” He paused. “I asked if these bugs were dangerous but Gran said they weren’t.”

“But why?” asked Marge. “Why bug Charlene’s home and office?”

“And her car,” said Dooley. “Don’t forget about the car.”

Marge smiled as she patted my friend on the head.“I’m not forgetting, honey.”

“The thing is that Gran thinks that Charlene is somehow blackmailing Uncle Alec into marrying her,” I explained. “Which is why she felt the need to smuggle Dooley and myself into the house, and plant all of those bugs.”

Marge turned to face the front again, a set look on her face.“Can I kill her, Odelia?”

“If you want to risk life in prison,” said Odelia.

“Oh, I’m starting to think it’s worth it.”

For a moment, we rode on in silence, and then Norm said,“I think this is so cool, the way you guys can talk to your humans. I wish I could talk to my human.” He paused, then added, “If I had a human, that is.”

“Don’t flies have an owner?” asked Dooley, interested.

“No, I’m afraid we don’t,” said Norm. “We’re free as the proverbial bird.”

“Who are you talking to, Dooley?” asked Odelia.

“Norm,” said Dooley. “He’s a fly who’s as free as a bird.”

“Crazy,” Odelia muttered. “Absolutely nuts.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “Norm told us about the lottery win, Marge. So how much did you win?”

“Um, fifty thousand,” said Marge, darting a quick look at her daughter, whose face had taken on the same set look her mom had displayed before.

Harriet cleared her throat.“I have a little bit of news to share, too,” she said.

“Go ahead, honey,” said Marge. “What is it?”

“Well, Brutus and I took a witness statement last night from a witness who witnessed the kidnapping of Uncle Alec, and this witness witnessed three men taking Uncle Alec out of Charlene’s house. Our witness also had a very good description to offer.”

And she proceeded to fill Marge and Odelia in on all the details pertaining to the case. She didn’t mention that her witness was a dog, but then that was probably a given.

Odelia was tickled pink by this development, and promised to tell her boyfriend straight away. Harriet looked extremely happy, and gave me a look that spoke volumes.“So you see, Max, Brutus and I are really coming into our own as detectives,” she said, rubbing it in as much as she could.

“I know,” I said, not begrudging her this success.

“Pretty soon we’ll be Hampton Cove’s premier feline sleuths,” she continued with an airy glance out the window.

“That’s great,” I said.

“Overtaking you and Dooley,” she added.

“This is not a competition, sweetie,” said Marge from the front seat. “Though you did really good there, I must say. You and Brutus both.”

“For your information, Marge,” said Harriet decidedly, “lifeis a competition.”

“No, it’s not,” said Marge. “Cooperation is what we need to find my brother, and I hope you don’t forget that.”

Harriet gave her human a look of confusion.“You mean…”

“I mean that the best results are often achieved when we all work together, not try to best one another. So try to work as a team, Harriet, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Oh,” said Harriet, taken aback by this strange advice. “Work as a team?”

“Yep. Cooperation, not competition, that’s the secret of success. Park right there, honey,” she told her daughter, and soon Odelia had parked behind a very large SUV and we were getting out. Charlene, who’d been dozing, was gently awakened by Odelia, and assisted out of the car and across the street, then marched into Tex’s doctor’s office.

“Teamwork,” said Harriet, still ruminating on Marge’s words as we all waited patiently on the sidewalk for our humans’ return. “Cooperation, not competition,” she murmured, as if the concept was completely alien to her. Then she glanced up at me. “Do you think Marge was joking, Max?”

“No, I think she was absolutely serious when she said that,” I intimated. “We’re much better when we all work together as a team, Harriet. And you know that.”

“Huh,” she said, then shrugged. “Okay, fine. So let’s join forces from now on, shall we? You and Dooley go this way, and Brutus and I will go that way. And may the best team win.” And with these words, she was off in the direction of Hampton Cove’s Main Street.

Dooley and I stared after her, and then Dooley said,“I don’t think Harriet has entirely grasped the meaning of the word teamwork yet, Max.”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think she has.”

Chapter 23

“Whatcha doing, Chief?”

Chase looked up from his computer to see that Dolores Peltz, the police station dispatcher, was standing next to his desk. She was holding a steaming mug of coffee in her hands that said,‘World’s Greatest Cop,’ and was taking occasional sips.

“Oh, just looking at mug shots,” he said, and gestured to his screen, where a gallery of the world’s skeeviest-looking criminals was on display.

“Who ya looking for?” asked Dolores, narrowing her eyes at the screen.

“All I’ve got is a description,” said Chase, and read from his notebook, “Heavy build, crooked nose, shaven head, cauliflower ears, Boston accent. Oh, and drives an old dark-green Ford van.”

“I’d start with the van,” said Dolores. “What case is this?”

“Um…” He couldn’t very well tell her it was actually the case of their missing Chief, so he said, “Burglary. On Grover Street.”

“Burglary? I don’t know anything about no burglary. Who’s the victim?”

“Um…” He closed his computer. “You know, Dolores, I was going through the calendar and I saw that your birthday is coming up soon.”

Dolores grimaced.“Don’t remind me. Once you get to be my age any birthday is a birthday too much. Why, are you and the guys cooking me up a surprise?”

“Aren’t we always? I was just wondering if there’s something special you would like.”

“Oh, there’s plenty,” said the dispatcher. “Where do I start?”

“Maybe make a list? And then we can get you something you really want, instead of some corny gift you don’t need.”

“Like last year, you mean. I could have done without that balloon ride, buddy. You know I hate heights.”

“I know now,” Chase said. When Dolores had discovered she’d been gifted a free ride in a balloon, she’d screamed the entire precinct down, until they’d agreed to exchange the gift for a day at the spa instead.

And as Chase watched Dolores stalk off, he breathed a sigh of relief. If Dolores found out what was going on, so would the rest of town. And he didn’t want to endanger his superior officer’s life by blabbing about his kidnapping.

Suddenly a cry rang out through the police station main office, and Chase quickly walked out of his own office to see what was going on. When he got there, he saw that all of his officers stood gathered around Officer Sarah Flunk, who was… crying!

“What’s going on?” he asked, joining the throng. “Sarah? Are you all right?”

“Better than all right, boss,” said the copper-haired officer, wiping her freckled face. “I’m getting married!”

“Oh,” he said, not expecting this. “And you’re not happy about it, is that it?”

“I’m very happy! Very, very happy!” said the young officer. “I never thought Barry would propose. I kept hoping, and wishing, and now, all of a sudden, he sent me a text. Here.” And she pressed her phone into his hands. On the screen the message read, ‘I know I should have done this a lot sooner, but… will you please marry me? Barry.’

“It couldn’t be happening to a nicer person,” Dolores grunted.

“I’m going to marry Barry!” Sarah squealed, and drew cheers from her colleagues.

Chase smiled, and joined the others in congratulating his young colleague.

Which is why he was so surprised when he returned to his own office and found Barry Billong sitting in front of his desk, looking distinctly unhappy.

“Barry, I believe congratulations are in order!” said Chase, and extended his hand to the moon-faced young man, who took it limply, and shook it without much enthusiasm.

“Please close the door, Detective Kingsley,” said Barry, darting nervous glances at the door.

Chase, wondering what was going on, closed the door and took a seat behind his desk.

“I managed to slip in unseen,” said Barry, now chewing his fingernails and looking like a man hunted by a posse of bounty hunters. “But I’m not sure I’ll be able to get out without being noticed. And that’s okay. But first I wanted to talk to you, sir.”

“Okay,” said Chase, smiling at the guy. “What’s going on, Barry? Why aren’t you happy? You’re getting married to a lovely girl.”

“That’s just it,” said Barry, leaning forward and swallowing nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down like a jack-in-the-box. “I don’t want to get married to Sarah. You see, I’m engaged to be married to… another girl. You don’t know her, but I already met her parents and everything. So now I’m engaged to two girls, and it’s simply too much.”

Chase would have agreed that being engaged to two girls was probably one too many, but since he liked and respected Sarah Flunk tremendously, the overwhelming emotion he now felt was one of anger.“You’ve been two-timing Sarah all this time? Stringing her along? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Detective,” said Barry in a whiny voice, holding up his hands in a gesture of defense. “I fell in love with Francine around the same time I met Sarah, and one thing led to another and… I never thought things with Sarah would actually develop into… whatever it is we have. But every time I tried to break up with her, she seemed so heartbroken, and so I could never actually go through with it. I tried to, but…” He hung his head. “I guess I’m just a coward.”

“But if you didn’t want to get married to Sarah, why did you propose to her?”

“That’s just it—I never wanted to propose. It’s just that these two guys… They said if I didn’t send that message they’d break my legs, and I like my legs, Detective. I like them the way they are. So they watched as I typed, and even gave me suggestions as to the exact wording of the message. They were very… insistent.”

Chase frowned.“What guys? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know who they are. I never met them before! They showed up at the dealership this morning and asked if they could take the new Toyota Yaris for a spin, and so they did, and then they parked along the road and said that if I didn’t propose to Sarah right there and then they’d break my legs, and then they’d break my arms, and maybe my neck, too—they hadn’t decided.”

“Can you describe these men?” asked Chase, thinking this was one hell of a story Barry was telling him.

“Well, they were very big, both of them, and very hairy, too, and one of them had a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on the side of his neck. Um… Oh, yeah, and they said that if I told anyone about this they’d break my legs, and my arms, and maybe my neck, too.” He sighed. “I had the impression they’d done this sort of thing before.”

“Organized crime?” Chase suggested.

Barry nodded.“It was a very stressful experience, Detective, and they didn’t even buy the Yaris, so I’ve got nothing to show for my trouble, which caused my boss to yell at me.”

“I think you better come clean to Sarah, Barry,” said Chase. “You can’t keep stringing her along, and now you’ve gone and made things worse with this bogus proposal.”

“But if I tell her they’ll break my legs and my arms… and my neck!”

“They’ll never know, Barry. Just tell Sarah the whole story, and leave nothing out.” He leaned forward. “Because if you don’t? I’ll be the one breaking your legs, and your arms, and your neck—is that understood?”

The car salesman inadvertently touched his neck and nodded furiously, then got up.

The moment the guy had left his office, Chase thought for a moment, gazing out the window of his office at the parking lot right outside the station, and then at Town Hall beyond it. Strange things were happening in this town of his, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He certainly wished the Chief was there to help him figure it out, though.

Chapter 24

Tex looked up in surprise when his wife and daughter entered the room, a dazed-looking Charlene Butterwick supported between them.

“You better take a look at her, honey,” said Marge. “I think something is very wrong.”

“She collapsed in the middle of the street just now,” Odelia added.

Immediately he instructed the Mayor to be laid down on his consultation table and as he shone a light into her eyes, he immediately saw that Marge was right: Charlene’s pupil response was not what it should be.

“It looks like she’s been drugged,” he said after a moment. “Charlene? Charlene, honey, did you take any pills in the last twenty-four hours? Sleeping pills maybe?”

But Charlene shook her head.“I hate sleeping pills,” she said sleepily, slurring her words a little. “They make me feel so… sssleepy.”

“I think we should take her to the hospital,” said Tex. “Do a blood test to find out what she’s taken. She’s clearly under the influence of something, that much I can tell you.”

“Do you think the same people who took Uncle Alec gave her something?” asked Odelia. “Maybe injected her with something?”

“Could be,” said Tex, as he sat Charlene upright again and did a few more tests to ascertain if the Mayor needed an ambulance or if she would be able to make it to the hospital under her own steam. “Her vital signs are good,” he murmured after checking her pulse and having a listen to her heart. “I don’t think she’s in any immediate danger. But I’d like to have her admitted just in case.”

“We’ll take her,” said Odelia. “Charlene? Can you walk?” she asked, and the Mayor nodded.

“Oh, sure,” she said. “I’m a big walker. You should see me walking. I’m great at walking.” And as she got up off the table, she immediately went down and fell flat on the floor.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

When they got out of her dad’s doctor’s office, Odelia noticed to her dismay that her cats had all skedaddled. At least this time they probably hadn’t been kidnapped and given away as a wedding present—she hoped!

They drove Charlene to the hospital, where they promised them they’d take really good care of her, and then Odelia dropped her mom off at the library so she could finally start her working day, before heading into the office herself.

Dan Goory, when she arrived, was waiting for her, looking distinctly concerned.

“You didn’t have to come in, honey,” he said when he saw her. “I would have understood. What with your uncle having gone missing and all.”

Dan was the only person outside of the family Odelia had confided in, knowing he wouldn’t blab about it.

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I better keep working. Otherwise I just keep running through the whole sequence of events in my mind over and over again, and there’s nothing I can do anyway.”

“Is Chase making any progress?” asked her boss, caressing his long white beard, a look of concern in his lively eyes.

“There have been some developments,” she said, “but nothing concrete, I’m afraid.”

Dan nodded.“I don’t know what this town is coming to, when the chief of police himself gets kidnapped. Maybe you should arrange for some extra security for your family?”

“I’m sure that Chase will protect us,” she said, taking a seat behind her desk.

“I saw your mom and dad on TV last night,” said her editor, a smile making his beard waggle. “Did they really win the lottery?”

“Yeah, they did,” she said, also smiling a tired smile now. “Though they didn’t exactly win it fair and square,” she added, her frown returning. And she told the Gazette editor about what happened.

“So the winning ticket arrived in the mail? That’s odd.”

“Yeah, clearly someone wanted them to win.”

“But who?”

She shrugged.“A well-wisher? One of Dad’s patients, expressing their gratitude?”

“Something peculiar happened to me, too,” said Dan as he took a seat on the edge of her desk. “You know how I’ve always wanted to complete my train set, right? The one I started years ago?”

Odelia remembered he’d built an elaborate train set in his attic. He’d once shown it to her, and it was pretty amazing. It took up half the space, and consisted of an entire town built around the train set now, complete with hills, bridges, tunnels and small houses and cars and people. He’d spent the best part of a decade building it.

“Well, the key part of my collection had been missing until now: the D-4560 locomotive.”

“Only three remaining models exist,” she said, nodding. He’d told her the story many times, how he’d tried to buy it but failed, since the price of the coveted model locomotive was upwards of a hundred grand now.

“Last night I got a delivery,” said the aged newspaper chief, his face splitting into a smile, “and lo and behold, it contained the D-4560! And in pristine condition, too!”

“But… how is that possible?”

“I don’t know, but it looks like some secret admirer must have sent it to me.”

“No address on the package?”

“None. But I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Odelia. I’m keeping it and sending my silent thanks to whoever shipped it to me.”

“Well, that’s great,” she said. He looked as happy as a kid on Christmas morning, and she thought it couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.

“And the strange thing is,” said Dan as he got up, “that that woman predicted this would happen, and then it did!”

“What woman?”

“Well, Madame Solange, of course. Didn’t I tell you I went to see her a couple of days ago? I told her about this hobby of mine, and she said I was going to come into possession of the locomotive very soon now. I didn’t believe her at the time, of course,” he said, patting the doorjamb as he walked out. “But now I definitely do!”

Odelia stared after her boss as he turned into his own office, whistling a merry tune as he did, and blinked. Madame Solange. First she predicted Mom and Dad’s lottery win, and now Dan’s locomotive. Maybe it was time she paid a visit to this mysterious fortune teller, and asked her if she knew where Uncle Alec was. She wasn’t a big believer in that sort of thing, but frankly she was willing to try anything to get her beloved uncle back.

Chapter 25

“I like this espionage business, Max,” said Norm as he buzzed along over our heads. “I think maybe I missed my calling in life. I should have been a spy.”

“That’s great, Norm,” I said as we pranced along the sidewalk in search of a potential witness who could tell us what had happened to Odelia’s uncle.

“So is it true that flies feed on the kind of stuff that us cats think is a little gross?” asked Dooley.

“What do you mean, gross?” asked Norm.

“Well, things like garbage, and, um, horse manure?”

“And pig shit,” I said. “And cow dung.”

“Oh, sure. I love me a good helping of cow dung,” said Norm, showing no shame at his choice of nourishment whatsoever, and nor he should, as far as I was concerned. “Though what I like most, of course, is a good, thick pile of elephant dung.”

“Elephant dung?” I asked with a laugh. “Where do you find elephants around here?” And then I remembered the parade from the day before. “Oh, you mean the fairground?”

“Sure. I’ve been spending a lot of time over there, and the food they’ve got at that place is simply to die for. Yum-my!”

“Better you than me, Norm,” I said, the thought of elephant dung not exactly filling me with relish.

We’d arrived at the General Store, where one of our main sources of information was lazily lounging on his owner’s checkout counter, not a care in the world.

Wilbur Vickery, meanwhile, sat ringing up the wares his customers were dumping on the conveyor belt. He was looking pretty chipper, I thought.

Kingman opened a lazy eye when we approached and then closed it again.“Come back later, fellas,” he said. “I’m just having the best dream of my life and you’re ruining it.” Then, moments later, he opened his eyes again with a sigh. “Yeah, it’s gone. What do you want? And can you please get rid of this horrible fly?”

“Oh, this is Norm, Kingman,” said Dooley. “He’s our friend.”

Kingman gave Dooley a critical look.“I think I must have misheard you, buddy. For a moment there I thought you said you’re friends with a fly. But that’s impossible, because as we all know flies are the harbingers of death and decay. They feed on crap and then carry that same crap onto our shiny coats of fur, which is a very rude thing to do indeed.”

“I promise I’ll never carry any dung onto your fur, good sir,” said Norm now.

“And it speaks,” said Kingman with a sigh. “Of course it does.”

“Our human has gone missing, Kingman,” I said, deciding to cut right to the chase and develop the theme I’d come to discuss. “Uncle Alec? He was taken from the home of his girlfriend two nights ago and hasn’t been seen since.”

“I thought he was getting married? Wasn’t there something in the paper yesterday? It’s gotten a big buzz all around town. Even Wilbur couldn’t shut up about it. I think he’s got a thing for the Mayor himself, so the announcement hit him pretty hard.”

“Yeah, that announcement was bogus,” I said. “One of the demands the kidnappers made was to print it in the Gazette. We have no idea why.”

“The weirdest thing,” Kingman agreed. “But then things have gotten a little weird around here lately. Did you know that Wilbur received a wedding proposal from an English princess? Girl named Frances. She’s supposed to be Prince Charles’s third child, though as far as I’m aware Prince Charles only has two kids, both boys. But this Princess Frances wrote a long letter, saying how she saw Wilbur’s picture on his Facebook page and immediately fell head over heels in love with him and now she wants to marry him.”

We glanced up at Wilbur, whose stubbled jaw was working furiously as he watched a Droopy cartoon on the small television he keeps next to his cash register, and abruptly burst into raucous laughter, spitting out a piece of beef jerky he’d been chewing on.

“Why anyone would want to marry that guy is beyond me,” said Norm, and I think he spoke for all of us.

“An English princess?” I said, figuring I hadn’t heard right.

“Yah,” said Kingman.

“The only daughter of the future king of England.”

“Yah.”

“Has fallen head over heels in love with Wilbur?”

“Yah. Pretty damn weird, huh? And even weirder? Just before this letter arrived, carrying the official letterhead of Buckingham Palace and everything, Wilbur had gone to see this psychic at the fair? And she’d told him he would meet a genuine blue blood soon and would marry into one of the mostfamous royal families in the world. So now Wilbur figures it was all meant to be.” The spreading cat sighed and placed his head on his paws. “I just hope I’ll get along with these Corgis. I hear they’re pretty tough little buggers.”

I’d met the Queen’s corgis, and I could confirm that they were, indeed, pretty tough, but since I didn’t think Wilbur stood a snowball’s chance in hell of getting hitched with the nonexistent daughter of Prince Charles, I didn’t even want to waste my breath telling him about this. Instead, I said, “So no news on Uncle Alec, I presume?”

“Nope. Haven’t seen the guy, and haven’t heard anything about this mysterious disappearance either, I’m afraid.” He glanced at Norm, who’d taken a seat on a loaf of bread placed behind the counter. “Don’t you dare, Norm,” he said warningly.

“Oh, hold your horses, big cat,” said Norm, taking flight again. “I wasn’t going to relieve myself if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I know what you flies are like,” grunted Kingman.

“Well, I happen to be a clean fly,” said Norm. “And so I don’t simply relieve myself on any old object I come across.”

“Good for you,” said Kingman, and closed his eyes again, indicating our audience was at an end.

So we took our leave, and as we walked along, Dooley said,“Do you really think Wilbur will be moving to England soon, Max? And maybe become the next king?”

“No, I don’t, Dooley,” I said. “I think someone is playing a cruel trick on Wilbur, and I’d very much like to find out who is behind this letter from this so-called Princess Frances.”

“It’s true, you know,” said Norm. “I pick the places I do my business in or on very carefully. I have strict rules about that—rules I learned dandling on my mother’s knee.”

“Do flies dandle on their mother’s knee?” I asked, surprised.

“Oh, sure. And she never failed to tell me that the best way to earn the respect of my peers is to do my business where no one will notice. Like on black toilet seats. Or in people’s stews, or in a baker’s freshly prepared dough. Or on the hood of dark sedans. Or even in a cup of coffee. People never notice when I take a tiny dump in their cup of coffee, and I like to think it adds that little bit of extra flavor a nice cup of coffee needs.”

I swallowed away a lump of uneasiness. Somehow I had a feeling that our newly formed friendship with Norm the fly was akin to dancing with the devil. Or worse!

Chapter 26

Vesta Muffin and Scarlett Canyon were seated in the outdoor dining area of the Hampton Cove Star again, their usual haunt when they weren’t trying to break into Town Hall, or planting bugs in mayoral homes.

“I think Charlene did it,” said Vesta now as she took a sip from her hot chocolate, a layer of foamy cream taking residence on her upper lip.

Scarlett stared at the phenomenon, then said,“Have you thought about shaving off that mustache of yours? If you want I can do it for you.”

“What mustache? I don’t have a mustache.”

“Yeah, you do. I would have a mustache, if I didn’t kill the sucker every week or so.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vesta grumbled as she licked the foam from her upper lip and inadvertently touched a finger to the spot under discussion.

“Waxing is best, of course,” said Scarlett, taking a sip from her own flat white, to which she’d added a small helping of liquor from a flask she kept in her purse. After the events of last night she needed a pick-me-up. “Though you could try shaving, of course.”

“Let’s not get distracted here,” said Vesta. “Did you hear what I just said or not?”

“Yeah, now you’re peddling the theory that Charlene kidnapped your son. But why in heaven’s name would she do that?”

“Because she’s that kind of woman! Some women are nurturers, and others are kidnappers, and Charlene clearly belongs in the latter category. I think she wants my son to marry her, and Alec, who’s no fool, said no way in hell, and so she’s got him locked up in her basement until he cracks and in the meantime she printed the announcement in the papers to add pressure.”

Scarlett cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her friend.“You think Charlene is keeping your son locked up in her basement.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Like a serial killer.”

“Absolutely. She’s got that look in her eye.”

“I thinkyou’ve got that look in your eye, honey. The look that says you’re going bananas. And I’m blaming it on that mustache. Those hairs have probably penetrated your brain and are doing some serious damage up there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Yank those suckers out, Vesta, before they make you go completely cuckoo! It’s a proven fact that ingrown hair is making people lose their minds. Dementia? Alzheimer’s? It’s all because of those nasty little hairs. So if you just let me,” she said, and leaned forward with a pair of tweezers in her hand.

“Where did those come from?” asked Vesta, recoiling.

“Let me just yank one of those suckers out and tell me how it feels.”

“Don’t come near me with that thing!”

“Just one, and if you don’t feel an immediate relief on the brain my name isn’t Scarlett Marie Gracie Canyon.”

“If you touch me I’m going to smack you in the face, Scarlett—I mean it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I would.”

Scarlett retracted the tweezers and tucked them into her purse.“Suit yourself. But if your brain suddenly starts going soft don’t come crying to me.”

“I won’t. Now are you with me on this or what?”

“With you on what?”

“That’s what I just said.” Vesta stared at her chocolate and then took a sniff. “Did you add that filthy liquor of yours to my hot cocoa?”

“Sure,” said Scarlett, slurring her words a little. “I figured you needed it, and so do I.”

“You’re trying to get me drunk!”

“I’m not!”

“You’re the worst friend in the world, Scarlett, you know that?”

“I am not. Would the worst friend in the world try to save you from dementia, Alzheimer’s and that nasty mustache?”

“Good God,” said Vesta, shaking her head.

“Close, but no cigar,” said Scarlett, and drained the rest of her coffee, then smacked her lips. “You know what? I think I’ll have another.”

Just then a camera crew suddenly materialized in front of them, and both women stared at the cameraman and the reporter who was holding his microphone aloft. The guy was wearing the most ridiculous glasses, and the most ridiculous goatee.“Do you ladies know by any chance where we can find Wilbur Vickery?” he asked chipperly.

“Over there,” said Vesta automatically, pointing in the direction of the General Store located right across the street.

“Thanks,” said the guy, flashed her a toothpaste smile, and started in the direction indicated.

“Hey, aren’t you going to tell us what’s going on?” asked Scarlett, liquor always making her a little belligerent.

“Tune into WLBC-9, darling,” said the reporter.

“Or check our website,” said the camera guy with a bored expression on his face as he trudged along behind the reporter.

So Scarlett and Vesta both got out their phones and checked the local TV station’s website, and sure enough Wilbur Vickery was the lead article.

They both stared at their phones for a moment, then Vesta read, in a thick voice,“Hot-blooded local shopkeeper to marry blue-blooded English rose—Madame Solange strikes it out of the park again.” She glanced up at her friend. “What the hell?”

“I think it’s time we go and see this Madame Solange,” said Scarlett. “I want to marry a hot-blooded blue blood, too, dammit!”

“And you will, Scarlett, honey,” said Vesta, patting her friend gingerly on the arm, then accidentally missing her approach shot and almost falling out of her chair. “But first we need to save my son,” she added, wagging a finger in Scarlett’s face and almost poking her eye out. “It’simportant to me. I’m all that poor boy’s got, you know.”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” said Scarlett, “but only if you let me yank out that big sucker right under your nose!” And she got out those damn tweezers again!

When the waiter in charge of the Star’s outside dining area came to see if his customers were satisfied, he found Scarlett chasing her friend around, armed with some kind of weapon, and screaming, “It’s for your own good, Vesta! Let me save your life!”

Chapter 27

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Odelia as she watched a couple of kids come skipping out of a trailer, giggling all the while.

“Yes, honey. Trust me,” said her mom. “Now let’s do this.”

It had been Odelia’s idea to visit this Madame Solange and enlist her in the quest to find her uncle and Mom’s brother. She hadn’t told Chase, as the cop would probably think that enlisting psychics or whatever Madame Solange was, probably was taking things too far. But at this point Odelia felt that any help would be appreciated, as neither her cats nor Chase had been able to locate the missing police chief so far.

“Okay, let’s just get it over with,” she said and set foot for the trailer.

A burly male suddenly materialized in the doorway and gave them a look that wasn’t exactly inducive to repeat customership.

“We would like to see Madame Solange,” said Odelia primly. “We can pay her,” she added, indicating her purse.

“Step inside,” said the man. “Madame Solange will see you now.”

“Thanks,” said Odelia, and negotiated the three steps that led into the trailer. It was one of those brightly colored contraptions, made out of wood, painted a cheerful green, yellow and blue, and once inside she discovered it was a lot roomier than she’d expected. “This looks nice,” she said. “I wonder who Madame Solange’s interior decorator is.”

There was a modest little waiting area, where a few chairs had been placed, and a curtained-off area where she assumed the fortune teller conducted her business.

“Um, I guess we’re supposed to wait here,” she said, and took a seat.

“Oh, darn,” said her mom. “I forgot to bring cash. I hope she takes Visa.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Odelia, glancing around. All along the wall testimonials had been framed, and she read a couple of them. ‘Madame Solange predicted I’d become a millionaire before my nineteenth birthday, and I did!’ one read. ‘Madame Solange said I’d marry my childhood sweetheart, and guess what? I’m getting married next month!’ another excited testimonial read. “This Madame Solange sure has a high success rate,” she said as she read a few more messages.

“Do you think she’ll take a check?” Mom murmured as she rummaged around in her purse. “Looks like I forgot to bring my credit cards, too.”

Odelia placed a hand on her mom’s arm. “Relax, Mom. You were here before, weren’t you? So you know the drill.”

“Yeah, but your dad took care of everything. We should have asked him to come along.”

“It’ll be fine,” Odelia repeated, though she was feeling a little nervous herself. She’d never been to one of these fortune tellers before, and didn’t know what to expect. “So does she work with cards or a crystal ball or what?” she asked.

“Crystal ball,” said Mom with a nod. “Though she hardly even looked at the thing.”

Just then, the curtain was shoved aside, and Madame Solange appeared. She was younger than Odelia had expected, and prettier. Somehow she’d thought a fortune teller should be an old crone, with a hook nose, a big fat wart, and looking like an evil witch.

“Come in,” said Madame Solange, giving both women a warm smile, and so Odelia took a deep breath and walked into the inner sanctum of the teller of all fortunes.

They took a seat at a small round table, and Madame Solange adjusted her robe, which was a nice brocade with gold thread, and must have cost her a pretty penny.

All around, the walls were papered with an expensive velvet wallpaper with the same gold thread, and on the floor a thick carpet lay. Subdued lighting lent the small room an intimate atmosphere, and the lack of windows made Odelia feel slightly claustrophobic, which was probably intentional. They’d clearly entered a completely different world.

“Now what can I do for you?” asked Solange, still that faint smile playing about her lips. “Oh, and before we begin, I have to warn you that this session is being filmed.” She gestured to a camera that was mounted against the wall behind her, and which Odelia only now saw. “I’m being followed for a whole year,” Solange explained, “as part of a documentary. They’re doing a six-part series on me and the fairground in general—but me in particular,” she said with a touch of pride. “So I hope you have no objections?”

“No, that’s fine,” said Odelia, who didn’t care. “My uncle has gone missing,” she said. “And I was wondering—my mom and I were wondering if you could help us find him.”

“Your uncle…” said Solange, nodding, and revealed a neat crystal ball by pulling away an intricately stitched doily. She touched the ball with her hands and closed her eyes. “Name?”

“Alec Lip,” said Odelia. “He’s our chief of police, and he went missing two nights ago.”

“Kidnapped,” said Mom, glancing intently at Solange and drinking in the woman’s every move.

“Yeah, three men took him,” Odelia explained, “from the home of his girlfriend, Hampton Cove’s mayor Charlene Butterwick.”

Solange nodded imperceptibly, her eyes still closed, then murmured,“I see him… large man, imposing… humble and well-liked in the local community…”

“Yeah, my uncle is pretty popu—”

“He’s gone,” said Solange abruptly, opening her eyes and adopting a more prosaic tone as she covered up her crystal ball again.

“Gone?” asked Odelia, surprised by this sudden change of demeanor. “What do you mean, gone?”

“Just that. He’s gone. And he doesn’t want to be found. Your uncle,” said Solange with a sigh, “wasn’t happy with the life he lived, so he decided he needed a break and took off.”

“Took off?” asked Mom, alarmed. “Where to?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Solange. “Your brother doesn’t want me to.”

“But… you know where he is?” asked Odelia.

“Oh, sure. Madame Solange knows all. But I have to respect your uncle’s wishes, so I can’t tell you where he is. That’ll be fifty bucks,” she added, holding out her hand.

The moment they were ushered out of Madame Solange’s camper, Odelia shared a look of shock with her mother. “He took off?” she said.

“I don’t believe this,” said Mom.

“Something’s not right,” said Odelia. “Obviously Solange doesn’t have a clue what happened to Uncle Alec and she’s inventing some crazy story about him taking off.”

“But she was right about the lottery,” Mom pointed out.

Odelia was shaking her head, directing annoyed glances at the van where Solange now sat counting her money. That big burly guy was back, standing in the entrance and pointedly ignoring them. He was some kind of security person, she reckoned, making sure Madame Solange’s unhappy customers couldn’t lodge a complaint with the fortune teller, or demand their money back.

Just then, Odelia thought she saw a familiar figure. It was a man, built like her uncle, only this particular person had a full head of hair and a thick, red mustache.“Look at that guy over there, Mom,” she said.

“Hey, he looks just like Alec,” said Mom. “Only with more hair. A lot more hair.”

He was dressed differently, too, with black leather pants, black leather vest, and cowboy boots. His hair was also black and slicked back with gel. And he was the possessor of a pair of impressive sideburns, and generally rocking a rockabilly style.

“Sir!” said Odelia, calling out to the man. “Can we have a word, please, sir!”

But the man, if he’d heard them, wasn’t heeding her call. Instead he kept on walking.

“Sir, Hold up, sir!” Odelia yelled, and made to follow the man. But soon he’d disappeared in the maze of trailers and stalls and the mass of people milling about.

Weird, she thought. He must have heard her.

Then she shrugged. Probably just a coincidence. So she returned to her mom.

Only when she got back to Solange’s trailer… Mom was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 28

Norm was happy. In fact the busily buzzing fly was ecstatic. Not only had he found himself a couple of great new friends but he’d also discovered his purpose in life: to be the bug equivalent of James Bond. A spy fly. Handsome and debonair. In other words a pretty fly fly. And so he’d been practicing his line all morning: ‘My name is Fly. Norm the Fly.’

It was a catchy line, and he was pretty sure it would attract a great deal of attention from lady flies. And in fact his wandering eye—all 4500 facets of it—had already spotted just such a deserving lady fly sitting on a shop window, busily cleaning her wings.

She was a shapely fly, he thought—one of those green flies that like to sit on a nice slice of steak, then sit on a pile of cow dung, then sit on a nice piece of cheese, and so on and so forth. Flies like to change things up, and have some variety in their diet, after all.

So Norm now flew in the direction of this lady fly, keen to make her acquaintance, and he was already practicing his line when suddenly he saw a familiar face appear on one of the many television screens lined up behind the shop window: it was none other than Tex Poole, the father of his new friends’ human.

“Hey, you guys,” he said therefore, for the moment neglecting his role as the new Lothario amongst flies and putting his duty to his newfound friends before carnal desire.

Max and Dooley came trotting up, and were as surprised as he was to see Tex Poole’s face reflected in two dozen televisions. Of course Tex Poole’s face was also being reflected in Norm’s multi-faceted compound eyes but that was neither here nor there.

“Hey, look, Max,” said Dooley, the large orange cat’s not-so-smart sidekick. “It’s Tex.”

“Yeah, and Marge,” said Max.

And indeed the chunky orange cat wasn’t lying: Marge Poole now also featured on the televisions, being interviewed alongside her husband.

“Let’s find out what’s going on,” said Max, and hurried in through the open shop door, followed by Dooley and of course Norm, buzzing right in.

For a moment they sat and watched the interview. It seemed to revolve around a lottery the couple had won, and a cruise they were going to take. Not all that earth-shattering, Norm would have thought, as he wasn’t particularly interested in cruises—much too windy for his taste, but Max and Dooley drank it all in. And when next a man was featured named Barry, announcing his upcoming nuptials with a cop named Sarah Flunk, the cats’ excitement increased. The interview with the happy couple—though Norm thought the man looked distinctly nervous indeed—was followed by an interview with Wilbur Vickery, the guy whose cat they’d just talked to. Wilbur announced he was now engaged to be married to an actual live princess and would just as soon like to be addressed from now on as Prince Wilbur if it was all the same to his clientele, whom he unfortunately would have to leave soon to take up residence at a castle in England.

Finally the series of interviews concluded with a man named Dan Goory, who looked like Father Time with his long white beard, and whose sole joy in life seemed to be to play with his trains, and especially a very fancy new locomotive he’d just come into the possession of.

By then Norm was already glancing in the direction of that lady fly again, but unfortunately for him she’d taken off, presumably to go sit on some dog poo.

And as they walked out of the shop again, Dooley excitedly said to his friend,“This Madame Solange is amazing, Max. Maybe we should go and pay her a visit. She seems to make everyone’s wishes come true!”

“Yeah, she does seem to be some kind of wonder woman,” said Max, though he seemed a smidgen less excited than his comrade.

“You don’t have a secret wish you would like to see fulfilled, Max?” asked Norm.

“Oh, sure. Lots of wishes. But I’m of the principle that when something looks too good to be true, it generally is. And this Madame Solange looks like such a miracle worker I’m starting to think there’s something not completely on the up and up.”

“That’s because you’re a cynic, Max,” said Dooley. “And being a cynic is not good for you, you know. You should be open to what life has to offer, and not look a gift cow in the mouth.”

“I think the animal you’re referring to is a horse, Dooley,” said Max.

Dooley thought about this for a moment, then said,“No, definitely a cow, Max.”

“I do think maybe we should pay a visit to this Madame Solange,” said Max, “but not to ask her to make our wishes come true but to see what’s going on. Her name keeps popping up, and I would like to know why.”

“Because she’s a miracle worker, Max,” said Dooley. “Just like you said. And miracle workers should be cherished, not looked upon with suspicion.”

“All right, Dooley,” said Max. “I promise I’ll go in with an open mind, all right?”

“An open mind and an open heart, Max.”

“Fine. An open mind and an open heart.”

“And let’s not forget to keep an open stomach, too,” said Norm, who liked to have his priorities straight at all times.

And so it was decided: they’d pay a visit to the fair and learn about the wonders Madame Solange could work for two cats and a fly. At the very least there would be some nice elephant dung to be sampled.

Chapter 29

Marge woke up feeling nauseous and wondering where she was. The room was small but cozily furnished, the couch she was lying on soft and comfortable, but one thing was for sure: she wasn’t home. Then she heard a noise and made to get up, only to sink back down again, a dizzy spell forcing her to take it easy.

Finally, when the dizziness subsided, she slowly got into an upright position and glanced out through the window and saw that she was still at the fair: people were walking around outside, and she now figured she’d probably fainted for some reason and some nice folks had put her here to recover.

So where was her daughter? Probably gone to get some professional help, she figured, and so she got to her feet.

And she was just testing her ability to stand upright without toppling over when a dark-haired woman entered the small space and gave her a radiant smile. She closely resembled Madame Solange, only a little older, her face more weathered than Solange’s.

“I see you’ve regained consciousness?” said the woman in a silky voice that sounded very pleasant to Marge’s ears.

“What happened?”

“Oh, you passed out,” said the woman. “So they brought you here.”

“Where is my daughter?”

“She’ll be here soon,” the woman assured her, and invited her to take a seat again, “before you hurt yourself falling down.”

“Thank you so much for this,” said Marge, taking a seat as indicated.

“Oh, nonsense,” said the woman. “I’m here to help, Marge. So where is your husband? Didn’t he join you today?”

Marge wondered how this woman knew she had a husband, but then figured Solange must have told her.“He’s at work,” she said. “Tex is a doctor,” she added for good measure.

“That’s nice,” said the woman vaguely, and added, “Now let me take a closer look at you, dear. Yes, just look into my eyes for a moment. That’s it. There we go…”

Marge didn’t know why, but as she gazed into the woman’s dark green eyes, she suddenly started feeling very hot indeed, and then before she knew what was happening, she was tumbling down into that same abyss she’d just woken up from. Tumbling and tumbling and tumbling…

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