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“Have you seen my mom?” Odelia asked the guard standing outside Madame Solange’s trailer. “She was right there just now, and now she’s gone.”

“I’m sorry,” said the guy, a little gruffly.

“But… did she go off somewhere?”

The bulky man shrugged, and it was obvious he either didn’t know or didn’t care.

So Odelia decided her mom must have gotten bored waiting for her daughter to return, and must have walked off somewhere to look at some of the other stalls—and there certainly were many of them—dozens or maybe even hundreds—and all of them well-frequented by Hampton Covians having come out in droves for this festive occasion.

Especially kids seemed to be having a ball with the shooting galleries, and the bumper cars and the merry-go-round or even the big Ferris wheel.

So Odelia wandered around a little aimlessly, hoping to bump into her mom again, but when she didn’t, took out her phone and tried her mom’s cell instead. There was no response, and after a moment Mom’s voice invited her to leave a message after the beep.

Weird, she thought with a frown. Mom never neglected to pick up her phone when her daughter called. Could be, of course, that she simply wasn’t hearing the ringtone over the din. And soon Odelia found her thoughts returning to the strange events surrounding her uncle’s disappearance. First the man was kidnapped from Charlene’s home, and now Madame Solange claimed he’d simply taken off to start a new life?

It just didn’t make any sense, though of course Solange would say something like that. Odelia wasn’t a big believer in fortune tellers, and so she didn’t for one minute think Solange was right.

Uncle Alec would never take off like this. Not without talking things through with his nearest and dearest first. Besides, he loved his job, and he loved his new life with Charlene. And though that wedding announcement had been bogus, Odelia wouldn’t put it past the couple to tie the knot at some point in the future.

And just when she figured she’d better call it a day and go home, she suddenly thought she saw her uncle’s lookalike again: the man was walking not fifty feet in front of her, licking from an ice cream cone and taking in the sights. So this time she decided to play it cool and stalk the man before he skedaddled again.

She didn’t think the man’s appearance was related to her uncle’s disappearance at all, but the resemblance was so uncanny she felt the need to have a little chat with him.

So she carefully trailed the man and soon discovered he was wending his way back to where Madame Solange’s trailer was parked. And before she had the chance to talk to him, he’d set foot for a trailer right next to Solange’s, and disappeared inside.

For a moment Odelia wavered, then she steeled herself and walked up to the trailer and knocked on the door.

Moments later, the door opened and the man appeared, looking at her a little dumbly.

“Yes?” he said finally.

“Hi, sir,”’ said Odelia. “I know this must sound strange to you, but you look so very much like my uncle that I was wondering if perhaps—”

“Your uncle? Who’s your uncle?” asked the man, speaking bluntly.

“Alec Lip. He disappeared two days ago, and I’ve been looking for him, and when I saw you earlier, I just thought…”

“Yes?” said the man, not very invitingly.

She suddenly felt very silly. Plenty of people resembled other people, and just because this man shared a certain resemblance to her uncle didn’t mean anything.

“What’s your name, sir, if you don’t mind my asking?” she said finally.

“Wolf Moonblood,” said the man, “and I’m afraid I’ve never seen you before, miss…”

“Poole,” she said, holding out her hand. “Odelia Poole.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Poole,” said the man, taking her hand and giving it a quick and unenthusiastic shake. “But I don’t think I’ve ever met this uncle of yours—this Alec Lip. And you say he’s gone missing?”

“Yes, he was kidnapped.”

“That’s too bad,” said the man, not displaying much sympathy. “Well, if there’s nothing more…”

“No, I’m sorry for taking up your time,” said Odelia, feeling exceedingly stupid now and taking a step back.

“Goodbye, Miss Poole,” said the man, and withdrew inside the trailer once more.

Odelia stared at the closed door for a moment, and marveled at the striking resemblance both men shared. Though Uncle Alec would never want to be seen dead looking like an aged and much heavier version of John Travolta in Grease.

Then she decided she was wasting her time, and walked away.

Wherever her uncle was, it definitely wasn’t here.

Chapter 30

“Come on, Brutus,” said Harriet. “There has to be someone in this town who knows something.”

“I know, but how do we find them?” asked Brutus miserably.

They’d been paying visits to all of their usual haunts but so far had found no one who could shed some light on Uncle Alec’s disappearance, or the man with the crooked nose and the cauliflower ears. Usually the modest size of Hampton Cove worked against these crooks and gangsters, as there was always some dog walker or pensioner who’d caught sight of their misdeeds. But not this time.

“We haven’t talked to Buster yet,” Harriet pointed out. “If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

Buster was the cat belonging to Fido Siniawski, the hairdresser, and as such usually very well-informed indeed.

Harriet and Brutus walked into Fido’s shop, where already plenty of people were waiting to have their hair removed. Harriet had always thought this human habit of allowing other people to mess with their hairdo was one of that particular breed’s stranger quirks. She’d never want anyone to touch her nice and perfect fur. Then again, no human could ever hope to have fur as nice and shiny as hers.

“Hey, guys,” said Buster when they glanced around to see where the Main Coon was hanging out. “Did you hear the latest? Fido is selling his business and moving to Florida.”

“Florida?” asked Harriet, shocked. Fido was such a fixture in Hampton Cove it would be weird to see him leave.

“Yeah, he went to see some woman yesterday, some fortune teller? And she said he’d inherit a winery soon and would go and live in Florida. Now I have to add it’s always been Fido’s dream to inherit a winery and move to Florida. I think he got it from some movie he once saw, or a book he read. And even though I could have told him that we’ve got a pretty sweet life up here, of course he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Probably because he can’t understand a word you say,” Brutus pointed out.

“Yeah, there’s that, too,” Buster admitted. “So this morning, picture my surprise when Fido got a letter in the mail announcing the recent death of some uncle or whatever in Florida, leaving him his winery!”

“Amazing,” Harriet marveled.

“This Solange keeps getting it right,” said Brutus, equally impressed.

“Yeah, so it looks like it’s adieu from me, you guys.” Buster sighed. “I’d much rather stay here, though. I like Hampton Cove. And who knows if I’ll find friends as nice as you down there in Florida.”

“I hear they’ve got very nice alligators,” said Brutus with a grin.

“Yeah, that’s not exactly the same.”

“Oh, I’ll bet they’ve got cats, too,” said Harriet. “There’s cats everywhere, Buster. Even in Florida.”

“I hope so,” said Buster, but he didn’t look happy. “You know the weirdest thing, though? Fido didn’t even know he had an uncle in Florida.”

“Huh. That is weird,” said Harriet.

“So the reason we’re here,” said Brutus, “is to find out what happened to Chief Alec. He’s been kidnapped, and we can’t seem to find him.”

“Kidnapped! You don’t say.”

“Yeah, I do say,” said Brutus. “So do you have any idea where he might be? Anything you might have overheard or seen?”

The Main Coon thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head.“Nah, I don’t think so. In fact this is the first I’ve heard of this kidnapping business. Fido hasn’t mentioned it either, that’s for sure.”

“Ok, thanks, buddy,” said Brutus.

“If you do hear something, let us know,” Harriet added, feeling a little dispirited now that even Buster was a bust.

“Oh, sure,” said Buster. “And let’s get together before I take off for Florida.” He smiled a wistful smile. “I don’t want to leave before saying goodbye to all of my friends.”

“Buster didn’t seem happy about the big move, did he?” said Harriet once they’d left the barbershop.

“I don’t blame him,” said Brutus. “If Odelia suddenly decides to move to Florida I wouldn’t be happy either. Leaving all our friends behind.”

“Yeah, but that’s life, isn’t it? Sometimes you just have to go with the flow. And a winery in Florida? I think that would be a great new adventure.”

Brutus gave her a curious look.“You’re not secretly hoping Odelia wins a winery in Florida, are you?”

“I’m just saying if it did happen, I’d happily go along with it.”

“So what now?” asked Brutus, sinking down on his haunches. They were sitting on the corner of Main Street and Downing Street, and wondering where to go from there.

“I don’t know,” said Harriet. “I’ve run out of ideas, snow pea.”

“Me, too,” said Brutus, glancing around.

Suddenly Harriet saw a man with a funny-looking straw hat across the street and thought he looked familiar.“Hey,” she said. “Isn’t that Ted Trapper?”

“He looks… happy,” said Brutus, referring to their neighbor, the mild-mannered accountant Mr. Trapper.

Ted was coming their way, and as he passed was halted in his tracks by a bald man with bulbous eyes.“Trapper!” said the bald man. “I came to see you at the office and they said you weren’t there! What gives, man?”

“I just resigned, Matt,” said Ted, a big happy grin on his face. “I quit my job!”

“Quit your job? Are you crazy? A nice steady job like that?”

“We just won the Powerball! One hundred million dollars if you please! We’re rich!”

“Well, congratulations,” said Matt, shaking the ecstatic ex-accountant’s pudgy hand. “Say, could I perhaps trouble you for a small loan?” he asked as both men walked on. “How about a hundred thousand? Or better yet, make that two hundred.”

Harriet and Brutus shared a look of surprise.“It’s raining lottery winners these days,” said Brutus.

“Yeah, looks like,” said Harriet. “Hey, watch it!” she yelled when a woman practically stepped on her tail.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” said the woman, speaking into her phone while she waited for the lights to turn green. “I just talked to Madame Solange yesterday and today I got word that the adoption papers will be filed next week. We’ve been waiting two years, Maggie, and all of a sudden it’s happening next week!”

The lights did turn green then and the woman walked on, still excitedly chattering into her phone.

Harriet and Brutus shared a look, then nodded.“Let’s pay a visit to this Madame Solange,” said Harriet, saying what they were both thinking. “We could use a bit of luck.”

Chapter 31

“Max?”

“Yes, Dooley?”

“If Madame Solange is so smart, maybe she’ll be able to talk to us.”

“I doubt it, Dooley. It takes a very special skill to talk to cats, and I very much doubt whether Madame Solange possesses that particular skill.”

“We can always ask her,” Dooley suggested.

Sometimes Max was a little conservative in his views, he thought, and he liked to think it was his task to make him a little more open-minded.

They were staring up at the trailer that appeared to be the home of Madame Solange. A very large man stood sentry in front of the trailer, and looked like the kind of person who brooked no nonsense. As usual, though, he wasn’t paying any attention to them, and why would he? Two cats and a fly probably didn’t pose a threat to the instructions he was dutifully carrying out.

“I’ll bet she can talk to flies,” said Norm. “So what say if I go in first and start asking questions?”

Flies had such an easy time, Dooley thought. They could just come and go undetected, whereas cats, because of their size, were usually noticed right away.

“Let’s stick together,” Max now suggested. “It wouldn’t do to split up the team now.”

“Fair enough,” said Norm a little begrudgingly. “So how do you want to play this, Max?”

“We simply slip through the legs of that big man over there, and go and talk to Solange.”

“Great idea!” said Dooley, who hadn’t thought of that. But then that was why Max was in charge, of course: he always got the best ideas. A kernel of doubt suddenly entered Dooley’s mind, though. “What if this big man catches us, Max?”

“Yeah, he looks like the kind of guy who wouldn’t mind wringing your necks,” said Norm, carefully studying the man, “and stuffing you in his stew.”

“Stuff us in his stew!” said Dooley. “He wouldn’t!”

“Oh, yeah, he would,” said Norm. “Humans eat everything, Dooley, haven’t you learned that by now? If it lives and breathes, they don’t mind killing it and putting it in their stew.”

“But they’d never put us in their stew!” said Dooley, absolutely horrified at the prospect of ending up in the big man’s stew tonight. “Besides, we’re too hairy. Humans don’t like hairy things.” He’d witnessed this strange aversion of all things hairy only a couple of days ago, when Odelia had screamed the house down when she caught a hairy spider in the shower. Chase had had to catch it and put it outside.

“I didn’t say he’d eat you with hide and hair now did I?” said Norm. “First they skin you and then they put you in the stew.”

“Oh, no!” said Dooley, starting to panic. “Max! Let’s get out of here! I don’t want to lose my skin and end up in that big man’s stew!”

“Relax, Dooley,” said Max, as usual the epitome of chill. “No one is ending up in anyone’s stew. Not you, not me, and not Norm.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me,” said Norm. “Humans don’t eat the likes of me. On the contrary, they can’t wait to get rid of us when they find us floating in their soup.”

He was right, Dooley thought. He’d heard the expression ‘A fly in the soup’ before, and always it was spoken with a certain distaste. As if flies in the soup were a bad thing.

“Look, I’m sure Madame Solange doesn’t eat cats,” said Max, “and neither does her bodyguard, or whatever this guy is to her. So let’s just keep our cool and follow the mission plan, shall we?”

Dooley nodded, but his mind wasn’t at ease as he closely watched the big muscular man for any signs of cat-eating behavior. If there was one thing he’d learned about humans after associating with the species for all of his life, it was that they were highly unpredictable.

So as they approached the trailer now, and got ready to slip between the man’s legs, Dooley had to really screw up his courage to the sticking point, and follow Max’s lead lest he chickened out and ran for his life.

But as luck would have it, just then the man was distracted by a passerby saying hi, and as he was smiling at the woman, who was very pretty indeed—at least by human standards—Dooley and Max easily slipped into the trailer and then they were inside!

“We did it!” said Dooley. “And we didn’t get eaten!”

“Or maybe he let you pass, and now you’re stuck in here,” said Norm, ruining the moment with his pessimistic views.

“Let’s just go and find this Solange person,” Max suggested, “and we’ll worry about the rest later, shall we?”

“Good idea, Max,” said Dooley, casting a dark look at Norm, who was already buzzing off to inspect every nook and cranny of the trailer.

They were in some sort of waiting area, where several chairs had been placed. One woman sat waiting there, along with what looked like her daughter, both staring at their phones, and a curtain was hung where presumably Madame Solange held forth.

So they simply slipped through the curtain and then they were in the presence of greatness—or at least the now famous Madame Solange.

From up close and personal she looked even younger than from afar, and not like the kind of fortune tellers Dooley had seen on TV. For one thing she didn’t have a hook nose or a wart on the tip of that nose. And she didn’t smell of sulfur and camphor either.

“Are you sure this is Madame Solange?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I think so,” said Max as they both studied the fortune teller.

She was staring into a crystal ball, and sitting across from an older woman whom they both recognized as Ida Baumgartner, one of Tex Poole’s most loyal patients. Ida was intently studying a pot of cream, turning it over in her hands.

“Are you sure this will get rid of my rash?”

“Absolutely,” said Solange in melodious tones.

“Mh,” said Ida, clearly not convinced. “So can you tell my husband that his Picasso was stolen but then retrieved? Oh, and also tell him that my sciatica is much improved, no thanks to Dr. Poole, who sometimes seems to think I make up these many medical maladies I’ve been suffering from these last couple of years.” She’d opened the little pot of cream, dabbed a stubby finger in and applied some of it to her face, which was indeed very ruddy-looking, Dooley thought. “It doesn’t smell very nice,” she said critically.

Madame Solange darted a look at Ida that wasn’t all that friendly, Dooley thought, but then maybe that was simply her way.

“So if I understand you correctly your greatest wish in life would be for your husband to return from the dead?” said Solange now.

“Of course I know this is quite impossible,” said Ida primly, rubbing the cream all over her face now. “Though to be quite honest I don’t see why. I mean, they have people frozen and kept on ice until such time as their diseases can be cured, so I keep thinking I should have done the same with my dear, dear Burt.”

“I thought you said he died in a car crash?” asked Solange.

“Yes, he did. But still. Future scientists probably will be able to save his life—not the incompetent fools that worked on him at the hospital.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Well, at least I can talk to him now, through you, Madame Solange, for which I’m eternally grateful to be sure.” She leaned forward. “So has he told you already where he hid that diamond ring he always said he’d buy me?”

Madame Solange’s eyes suddenly glittered—a little mischievously, Dooley thought. “What if I tell you that your husband wants to come back to you, Ida? And what if I tell you that maybe—just maybe—he has found a way to do just that?”

Ida seemed taken aback by this.“Burt? Come back to me? But how?”

“Let’s just wait and see, shall we?” said the fortune teller, and abruptly placed the doily on top of her crystal ball. “That’ll be fifty dollars. And another fifty for the cream.”

And as Ida walked out, looking a little discombobulated, Max took this opportunity to jump up onto the chair the woman had vacated and said,“Can I please have a word with you, Madame Solange?”

Dooley held his breath as he watched Madame Solange slowly glance up at Max, then suddenly she frowned and said,“How did you get in here, you filthy creature? Out!”

And to show them that she meant what she said, she got up and made a sweeping motion in Max’s direction. “Out, I tell you!” she screamed. “I hate cats—hate them!”

And so Dooley and Max took their leave, hurrying out the same way they’d arrived: by slipping through the legs of that burly guard, who still stood chatting to the pretty young woman.

“I don’t think she could understand you, Max,” said Dooley once they’d put some distance between themselves and Madame Solange’s trailer.

“No, I don’t think so either,” said Max, panting from both the exertion and the emotion.

Then they both glanced around.“Um…” said Dooley, “so where is Norm?”

Oh, no! They’d left Norm behind! In the hands of that awful Madame Solange!

Chapter 32

“We can’t just break into her house in broad daylight,” said Scarlett.

“Of course we can,” said Vesta as she glanced across the street at the house in question.

“You seriously want to break into the Mayor’s house right now? When we’ve only just been released from prison for breaking into Town Hall?”

“Look, you don’t have kids, Scarlett, so you don’t understand,” said Vesta. “But I’d do anything to find my son, even if I find him chopped up and stuffed in Charlene’s freezer.”

Scarlett pursed her lips.“Well, if you put it that way…”

They were in Vesta’s little red Peugeot, parked across the street from the Mayor’s house, thinking up ways and means of doing exactly what the neighborhood watch tried to prevent: breaking and entering a house that wasn’t theirs.

“Okay, so why don’t we simply break a window?” Scarlett suggested now.

Vesta slowly turned to her.“Now you’re talking! I like this new and improved Scarlett Canyon.”

Scarlett simpered a little.“I just thought of it. I mean, why make things complicated, right?”

“Exactly! And if we get caught we’ll simply say we’re the neighborhood watch and we were informed burglars were burglarizing Charlene’s house and we got there too late to catch the culprits.”

“Brilliant!”

“I know,” said Vesta, feeling pretty good about her idea herself.

Why she hadn’t thought of that last night when they were caught breaking into Town Hall she didn’t know. But at least she’d thought of it now. Not that there would be cops around. Not with her son having been ‘kidnapped’ by kidnappers only Charlene had seen, which told her all she needed to know: thewhole story was completely bogus.

“Let’s go,” she said, and then she and her fellow watch member were darting across the street and making a beeline for the back of Charlene’s house. Vesta had brought along the club she’d acquired for watch patrol purposes, and as they arrived on Charlene’s terrace, they discovered a wealth of glass they could easily break: there was the sliding glass door, there was the glass kitchen door, and there even was another window that offered a good view of the living room. A regular embarras de richesses!

“So which one do you want to break?” asked Scarlett, eagerly glancing at the large window that led into the living room.

But then Vesta noticed that a window had been left open on the second floor, and she figured that maybe they could manage without causing too much damage for a change.

“If you give me a boost, I think I might be able to reach there,” she said, indicating the window.

“Or ifyou giveme a boost,I might be able to reach there,” Scarlett countered.

“I thought of it first, so you’re boosting me.”

“Yeah, but I’m taller so I’ll be able to reach that window a lot easier than you.”

“Exactlybecause you’re taller you’ll be able to give me a boost much quicker.”

“Okay, fine. Let’s toss a coin,” said Scarlett.

“Fine. Let’s,” said Vesta, and took a coin from her purse, then tossed it. The moment it landed, she said, “Heads.”

“Hey, no fair—you can’t call it after it lands!”

“Who cares! I won so you’re boosting me. Let’s go!”

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?”

“Stop yapping and start boosting already.”

So Scarlett got into position and moments later Vesta was reaching for the window.

“You’re much heavier than you look!” said Scarlett, groaning under the strain.

“I’m not. You’re weak, that’s the problem. Now lift me higher, will you?”

“Are you nuts? Do I look like a frickin’ weightlifter to you?”

“Higher!”

“Oh, screw this,” said Scarlett, and gave one last mighty push. Unfortunately Vesta had just positioned her head underneath the open window and now bumped it against the unyielding object, causing her to let out a sharp cry of pain, then topple down to earth, crashing into Scarlett, and causingthe latter to topple over, too.

So when Officer Sarah Flunk rounded the corner ten seconds later, responding to a call from a concerned neighbor who’d witnessed the scene from his balcony window, she found two cursing old ladies trying to extricate themselves from a tangle of limbs.

“Oh, Vesta, Vesta,” said Officer Flunk, who was in a great mood because of her upcoming marriage to Barry Billong, “what is your son going to say when he sees this?”

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Norm, after his friends Max and Dooley had been kicked out of Solange’s trailer, felt it was his duty to stick around, endangering life and limb, to try and complete the mission. It was, after all, what James Bond would have done. Of course James Bond would have tried to seduce Madame Solange and would probably have succeeded, eating up precious minutes of the movie’s runtime, but Norm didn’t think this was in the cards for him. Women rarely fall for fat flies, except maybe when they look like Jeff Goldblum.

“What did I tell you?” the fortune teller was saying to the muscular guard. “No cats!”

“I’m sorry, Solange,” said the security guard. “I didn’t see them.”

“What am I paying you for, Maxim? To always keep an eye out—even for cats!”

“It won’t happen again, Solange,” said Maxim ruefully, hanging his head, as far as a neckless man can hang his head, of course. Having been thoroughly chewed out, the guard took his leave and Norm took advantage of this lull in the proceedings to move into another curtained-off area and discover this was Madame Solange’s private space.

There was a dresser with a large mirror, and the paraphernalia of a woman’s beautifying processes strewn about. He saw several wigs, indicating that Madame Solange liked to change things up as far as her personal appearance was concerned, and also, and most importantly, there were portraits of a certain male bedecking every available surface: the walls, of course, butalso framed pictures festooning the dresser and the little gateleg table next to the small couch and even the TV set where Solange presumably liked to watch some television in between predicting her clients’ future.

The male on display wasn’t a handsome male but he definitely had Solange’s affection: he was a pretty beefy sort of guy, with sideburns and that weird slicked-back coif so popular in the fifties. He sported the same black leather jacket in all the pictures, making Norm suspect he didn’t have enough money to buy himself more than one outfit.

Presumably Solange’s husband, he thought. He then shrugged and decided to skedaddle. James Bond would have interpreted the fascination of a woman for her own husband as a challenge and would have redoubled his efforts of seduction. James would also have discovered a secret lair underneath the trailer, with a hidden access panel, and he would most probably have been attacked by a one-armed assassin with a gold tooth and a pronounced limp protecting said lair, but then Norm’s life was a lot less exciting.

All he’d found were myriad pictures of a rockabilly dude with a weird haircut.

And as he buzzed out through an open window, he hovered over the fairground, gaining some altitude, before buzzing down again when he spotted Max and Dooley.

When he related his recent adventures they were as disappointed as he was.

This investigation wasn’t going anywhere fast, that much was obvious. But at least they’d all escaped with their lives, and that was something to be thankful for.

Chapter 33

As we left the fairground, both Dooley and I feeling a little dejected, we were soon joined by Norm, and as we walked on and he filled us in on what he’d discovered—nothing—we came across two familiar figures in the form of Harriet and Brutus.

“Are you going to see Madame Solange?” I asked. “If so, don’t bother.” And I told them what we’d found—a cat-hating fortune teller and plenty of pictures of Rockabilly Dude—also known as Wolf, Solange’s husband.

Harriet and Brutus both looked a little disappointed by this, and so we soon started our long trek home, to report to Odelia what we’d found—a big, fat nothingburger!

And we would have had only this disappointing news to share if we hadn’t suddenly come across a disheveled woman wandering about in the fields that separated the fairground from the first houses of Hampton Cove. For this woman was none other than Marge!

“Marge!” said Dooley.

Marge looked up in surprise.“Oh, hey, Dooley,” she said, giving us a slightly bewildered look. She was missing her shoes, for some reason, and her hair was a mess.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” said Dooley, observant as usual.

Marge glanced down at her feet as if seeing them for the first time.“You’re right,” she said after a moment, “and they were new shoes, too.” She directed a confused look back at the fairground, whose Ferris wheel and rollercoaster could easily be seen. We could even hear the merry screams of fun of people being jerked around and loving every minute of it.“Um, where am I?” she asked then, a clear sign not everything was as it should be in the world of Marge Poole.

“Did you visit the fair?” I asked, gesturing to the Ferris wheel going round and round.

My human’s mom frowned and said, “I think so—I’m not sure.” She touched her head, and rubbed it. “My head hurts,” she announced.

“So did you lose them?” asked Harriet. “Your shoes?”

“Um… yeah—looks like I did.” She frowned some more. “I wonder what happened.”

“Let’s get you home,” Harriet suggested, and started to lead the way in the direction of home and hearth. Marge followed, looking as dazed as I’d ever seen her.

“You know, I think I was going to do something, and then I didn’t… I think,” she said vaguely, and we all shared a look of concern. Marge clearly wasn’t well.

“Did you visit the fairground?” I asked again, hoping to stir a memory.

“Uh-huh. Probably.”

“Oh, dear,” said Harriet.

And we’d walked a while on a nice asphalt road, which Marge must have enjoyed, for a barefooted human isn’t exactly used to traversing the rough undergrowth us cats are used to navigating, when suddenly a car pulled over and rolled down its window and Odelia’s head popped out and she yelled, “Mom! Where have you been!”

And so moments later we were all inside Odelia’s pickup, four cats lounging relaxedly in the backseat while Marge took up the front seat, still gazing before her with that slightly dazed look in her eyes.

“What happened?” asked Odelia once she’d put the car in gear and we were tootling along the road into town.

“I… don’t know, exactly,” said Marge. “I can’t seem to recall.”

“You remember we went to see Madame Solange, though, right?” said Odelia, looking extremely concerned at the state her mom was in.

“Um… no, I don’t think I do.” But then Marge’s face cleared. “Though now that you mention it… I did visit Madame Solange and she told us we’d win the lottery soon, and go on that nice cruise that Tex is always talking about.”

“That was when you and Dad saw Solange, Mom. But you and I paid her visit just now, remember? To ask her about Uncle Alec?”

But Marge slowly shook her head.“No, I don’t think I remember that.” She glanced over to her daughter. “Are you quite sure that’s what happened, honey?”

“Of course I’m sure. We walked out of Solange’s trailer and I thought I saw a man who looked like Uncle Alec so I followed him, and then when I got back you were gone!”

“No, I don’t think that’s what happened,” said Marge. “I’m sure I’d remember.”

“Marge seems to be completely out of it,” said Brutus.

“Yeah, she must have hit her head and is suffering from amnesia,” Harriet said.

“Amnesia?” asked Dooley. “Is that lethal?”

“No, amnesia isn’t lethal, Dooley,” said Harriet. “It’s just very annoying.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, casting a worried glance at Marge, possibly wondering if she was going to die soon now that she was suffering from amnesia.

“Strange things keep happening, don’t they?” I said. “With the lottery thing and Marge disappearing and then returning, having lost a chunk of her memory, and Uncle Alec’s kidnapping.”

“Oh, and you don’t even know the best part,” said Harriet. “Buster is moving to Florida. Fido inherited his uncle’s winery down there.”

“And Ted Trapper won a hundred million dollars in the Powerball,” said Brutus.

“So weird,” I said. “As if a cloud of good fortune has suddenly descended upon Hampton Cove.” Or Santa Claus arriving early this year, handing out gifts all over. Only Santa had taken on the form of a woman this time, and her name was Madame Solange.

Just then, Odelia’s phone started belting out its ringtone. “Can you pick that up, Mom?” Odelia asked.

Marge took her daughter’s phone and picked up, sounding a little hesitant as she said, “This is Marge Poole speaking?” She listened for a moment, then said, “Thank you, sir. I’ll tell her,” and hung up again.

For a moment, no one spoke, then Odelia asked,“Who was it?”

“Oh, um, a gentleman named Chase Kingsley,” said Mom.

“Mom?” said Odelia, glancing over. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“Why, honey?”

“You honestly don’t remember who Chase is?”

“No. Am I supposed to know him?”

“Mom!”

“He said your grandmother has been arrested,” said Marge, flicking a piece of fluff from her blouse. “She and Scarlett Canyon were caught trying to break into Charlene’s house just now.”

“What is happening!” Odelia cried.

I knew just how she felt.

Chapter 34

Charlene glanced around and for a moment had no idea where she was. Then she remembered. The hospital. Of course. But why? She was feeling fine. In fact she was full of vim and vigor, her energy levels off the charts and ready to hit the road running!

So she practically hopped out of bed and found her clothes neatly folded on a chair in the corner of her hospital room and started getting dressed, humming a tune as she did.

Moments later a nurse walked in and said, alarmed,“Madam Mayor! What do you think you’re doing!”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting out of here,” she said good-naturedly.

“But you’re not well!” said the nurse.

“Says who?”

“But—”

“Look, I’ve wasted enough time already, don’t you think?” said the Mayor, placing her hands on the nurse’s shoulders and giving the woman a reassuring smile. “I have work to do, places to see, people to meet!” And with these words, she walked out, leaving the slack-jawed nurse to stare after her.

Stalking through the squeaky-clean corridors of the hospital, she smiled before herself. She’d never felt this good in her life—what was that silly nurse talking about? And when she fished her phone from her purse and got in touch with her secretary, she barked, “Can you send a car to pick me up at the hospital, Imelda? Thanks!” She was already envisioning great things for HamptonCove. She would boost the local economy with new projects and a plethora of happenings and festivities. She’d tackle the local housing issue, she’d build a new childcare center—she’d put this town on the map!

She only had to wait five minutes before a car arrived and took her straight to Town Hall, the place where it was all happening! And as she stalked into her office, Imelda got up, a startled look on her face.“Madam Mayor!” she said. “Are you all right? I heard about the hospital and I thought—”

“I’m fine,” said Charlene, waving away her secretary’s concerns. “Now let’s schedule another council meeting, shall we? I have a lot of announcements to make. A lot!”

“But, Madam Mayor…”

“What?” she said, halting in her tracks to shoot her secretary a bewildered look. She didn’t understand the woman’s reticence. It was almost as if… Imelda had something on her mind. Which of course was impossible. If you worked for a can-do mayor like Charlene Butterwick, only a can-do attitude would do! “Well? Spit it out, woman!”

“I heard about Chief Alec,” said Imelda, giving her boss a look of uncertainty. “Is it true? Did the Chief get… taken?”

Charlene frowned.“The Chief? What Chief? What are you talking about?”

“Chief Alec, ma’am. Your… boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend, woman. Don’t talk nonsense!” And with these words, she walked into her office and slammed the door. What she really needed, she thought as she took a seat behind her desk, was a new secretary!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Vesta and Scarlett didn’t have to languish in jail for too long. In fact they didn’t have to languish in jail any time at all. Barely had Officer Flunk brought both women in for questioning before Detective Kingsley had taken them off her hands.

“Good luck,” said Sarah with a wink, and Chase returned the wink with an eyeroll.

“So what’s all this about you two breaking into Charlene’s house?” he asked once the two women were seated in front of his desk.

“We weren’t breaking in,” said Vesta, tilting her chin. “We were merely responding to a report about a man breaking in and so we decided this was just the kind of job the neighborhood watch is designed for.”

“Exactly!” said Scarlett.

Chase arched an eyebrow.“You were caught trying to break into a second-story window,” he reminded the twosome.

“We were just trying to ascertain whether the burglars had gained access to the property that way,” said Vesta stiffly.

“It’s what the neighborhood watch does,” said Scarlett. “Rescue the helpless! Raise the hopeless!”

“I think that’s Captain America, hon,” said Vesta.

Chase cleared his throat and placed his phone on the desk, then pressed play on a video displaying the entire scene from the moment Vesta and Scarlett had arrived carrying a large stick, to the moment they’d been arrested and carted off in handcuffs.

For a moment, silence reigned, then Vesta grumbled,“Damn nosy parkers with their damn smartphones. What happened to privacy?”

“Yeah, and the right not to be filmed?” asked Scarlett.

“I think you should sue the person that shot this video,” said Vesta, tapping the desk.

“Yeah, I think we should file charges, Vesta.”

“Look,” said Chase, leaning back. “I get that you’re worried about the Chief,” he said, “and trust me, I am, too. But this is not the way to find him, all right?”

“But Chase—Charlene’s got him!” Vesta cried. “I’m sure of it. She invented this whole home invasion story and in the meantime she’s got my son locked up in the basement!”

“Unless she cut him up into little pieces and stuffed him in her freezer,” said Scarlett.

“Impossible,” said Chase. “And you know why? Because Odelia’s cats spent the night at that house, and they didn’t find anything. Not a trace of your son.”

“Cats aren’t infallible,” said Vesta. “They could have missed something.”

“Also, Harriet and Brutus talked to a dog that lives across the street, and he distinctly remembers three men taking Alec out of the house at the time Charlene says they did. He also offered a very good description of one of the men and of the van they were driving.”

This had Vesta and Scarlett stumped for a moment, then Vesta frowned and said,“These men were probably working for Charlene.”

“Oh, my God!” said Chase, and dragged his hands through his hair. “Look, Charlene is the victim here, okay? She had nothing to do with this. And if you would just stop barking up the wrong tree, maybe you could actually do something useful for a change and actually help me find your son!”

Vesta gave him a rueful look, and so did Scarlett.“Okay, fine,” Vesta said finally. “So what do you think happened?”

“I don’t know, but something really weird is going on. I talked to Barry Billong, and he claims a couple of heavies cornered him at work and threatened to break his legs if he didn’t propose to Sarah—and Barry had already proposed marriage to another girl.”

“I know. He’s been cheating on Francine with Sarah for months now,” said Scarlett.

“And vice versa,” Vesta pointed out.

“So maybe these men did both Sarah and Francine a favor.”

“Maybe,” said Chase. “But Barry’s story unfortunately isn’t unique, and I’m not just talking about Alec’s kidnapping. People left and right have been winning stuff, or seeing their wildest dreams come true, and it just doesn’t add up. Also, I just got a report from the Bridgeport Chief of Police that a valuable model train was stolen from a local collector. He called me because the collector saw that very locomotive appear in a news story.” He showed Vesta and Scarlett pictures of the locomotive in question.

“I don’t get it,” said Vesta. “What are you babbling about, Chase? Just spit it out.”

“The same locomotive that was stolen a couple of nights ago turned up last night in the possession of Dan Goory. He claims it arrived on his doorstep. And now I have the unfortunate task of telling him he’ll have to hand it back, as it concerns a stolen item.”

“So a model train got stolen and turns up in Dan Goory’s hands, and Barry Billong was threatened to have his legs broken if he doesn’t propose to your officer Sarah Flunk,” Vesta summed up the state of affairs. “What has all that got to do with my son?”

“Probably nothing,” said Chase, “only your son and Charlene paid a visit to Madame Solange a couple of days before he got snatched, and so did Dan and so did Sarah.”

“Huh,” said Vesta. “Yeah, looks like you’re onto something there, Chase.”

“I know,” said the cop. “But what?”

Just then, Chase’s phone chimed and he saw that Odelia was trying to reach him. “Hey, babe,” he said. “If you’re worried about your grandmother, I’ve got her right here.”

“That’s great. Listen, there’s something going on with my mom. I lost her for a while back at the fair, after we paid a visit together to Madame Solange, and the cats found her wandering in the fields and now she’s acting really weird.”

“Weird, how?”

“For one thing, she doesn’t remember who you are.”

Chapter 35

“She looks all right to me,” said Tex. He’d briefly examined his wife and now gave her a clean bill of health.

“So why doesn’t she remember Chase?” asked Odelia.

We were all in Tex and Marge’s kitchen, the entire family having gathered around the kitchen table—minus Uncle Alec, for obvious reasons.

“I’m not sure,” said Tex. Then, addressing his wife, “This man over here, honey. You remember him, don’t you?”

Marge glanced over to Chase, then smiled and stuck out her hand.“So nice to meet you, sir. What was your name again?”

“Chase,” said Chase, a little startled. “Chase Kingsley.”

“And you’re a cop, Chase?” asked Marge.

“Yes, ma’am, that I am.”

“He’s also my boyfriend,” said Odelia. “Oh, mom, why don’t you remember?”

But Marge gave her daughter a curious look.“Remember what, honey?”

Odelia threw up her hands in frustration.

“Do you think Marge remembers us?” asked Dooley.

“Yeah, if she hadn’t she would have said so,” I pointed out.

“She seems to have lost part of her memory,” said Tex. “Though I examined her head and I don’t see any evidence of a contusion—no abrasions, bruising or swelling… Could be she suffered a ministroke, but I’d have to take her to the hospital to know for sure.”

“She’ll get her memory back, though, right?” asked Odelia.

“Hard to say,” said Tex. “She might and she mightn’t. Memory is a tricky thing.”

“Is there other stuff she’s forgotten, you think?” asked Vesta. She waved at her daughter. “Marge!” she yelled. “Do you remember me?!”

“She’s not deaf,” said Tex censoriously.

Marge laughed a careless little laugh.“Of course I remember you, Ma. Don’t be silly.”

“That’s fine,” said Vesta, looking satisfied that at least her daughter hadn’t forgotten all about her, too.

“She’s also completely forgotten about our visit to Madame Solange,” Odelia said. “Though not about your visit, Dad.”

“Yes, well, like I said, memory loss is a tricky thing, and extremely unpredictable. She might forget something that happened yesterday, and remember something that happened thirty years ago with incredible clarity, or the other way around.”

“Listen, honey,” said Vesta, patting her granddaughter’s knee. “There’s something we need to discuss. You better tell them what you told me, Chase,” she said.

Chase cleared his throat and opened his notebook.“I would like to read you a brief overview of a number of reports I’ve received in the last twenty-four hours,” he said. “Your boss, Dan Goory, went on television claiming he received a model train, a rare locomotive, in the mail. A train he’d been wanting to lay his hands on for years, right?”

“Yeah, he told me all about it,” said Odelia, nodding.

“That particular locomotive was reported stolen from a collector in Bridgeport.”

“Dan won’t like that,” said Odelia.

“There’s more,” said Vesta. “While Scarlett and I were in Chase’s office the reports kept coming in.”

“Sarah Flunk went on television announcing her engagement to Barry Billong. Only problem was that Barry has already proposed marriage to another girl, and he was coerced into this second proposal by two men showing up at the dealership and threatening him with physical violence. Wilbur Vickery claims he received a wedding proposal from the daughter of Prince Charles, future king of England. Only problem is that Prince Charles doesn’t have a daughter, and the British ambassador, who caught the transmission, has filed an official complaint against Wilbur for making false claims.”

“Oh, God,” said Odelia.

“Ted Trapper claimed in front of the cameras of an WLBC-9 television crew that he won the Powerball. One hundred million dollars. Only the ticket he received was a fake, and the Powerball has filed charges against Ted for fraudulent claims. Fido Siniawski has testified live on WLBC-9 that he inherited a winery in Florida from his deceased uncle Renny Swaitniki. Only problem is that Renny Swaitniki is alive and well, and not related to Fido, and has now filed charges against Fido for false and hurtful claims. Oh, and a woman named Luella Pear testified in front of WLBC-9’s camera that she’d finally been granted adoption of the baby boy she and her husband have been trying to adopt for the past two years. Only the adoption agency have no knowledge about this particular adoption whatsoever and have filed charges against the Pears for false and fraudulent claims.” He put down his notebook. “There’s more but I think you get the gist.”

“And all of these people made these claims after they’d paid a visit to Madame Solange,” said Vesta, nodding to Chase.

“Which leads me to think that this Solange just might be behind the whole thing,” Chase concluded.

“I like Madame Solange,” Marge said chipperly. “She’s the kindest, sweetest, most lovely woman I’ve ever met. And the most generous, too. I think we should invite her.”

“Oh, I’m going to invite her,” said Chase. “To the police station for an interview.”

“I don’t like Madame Solange,” said Dooley. “She wasn’t very nice to us.”

“Yeah, she hates cats,” I said, taking in what Chase had just said. Clearly Madame Solange was at the heart of some kind of fraud, but what I couldn’t figure out was how the whole thing worked, exactly.

Marge patted Chase’s knee affectionately. “Are you married, Officer Kingsley?”

“Um, no, ma’am, I’m not,” said Chase.

“Why don’t I introduce you to Solange? She’s a very nice young woman, and I’m sure you and her will get along famously. Do you want me to set it up?”

“Mom!” said Odelia.

“What? I’m just trying to be nice to your friend, honey,” said Marge with a shrug. “Spread a little sweetness and light, just like Madame Solange does.”

Looked like Solange was spreading more than just sweetness and light, though. She was also spreading a few tactics of wish fulfillment. And I sincerely hoped Chase would get to the bottom of the whole affair.

At least if Marge didn’t marry him off to Solange first.

Chapter 36

“I say we go in there and demand that she give us Uncle Alec back,” said Brutus, who’s the kind of cat who prefers the heavy-handed approach.

“We can’t just go in there and make her do anything,” I said. “We’re just cats, Brutus. And Solange is a lot bigger and a lot stronger than we are.” And if she wasn’t, her burly associate definitely was. “Besides, nothing in this whole story tells me that Solange is involved in Uncle Alec’s kidnapping.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me, Max. Of course she’s involved!”

“And how do you figure that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why would a fortune teller abduct a local police chief? Give me one good reason.”

“Um…”

“See?”

“I think Chase is wrong,” said Harriet. “I think Solange is perfectly innocent of all these crimes he’s accusing her of. All I see is a woman who likes to spread a little happiness wherever she goes.”

“So how do you explain that a couple of heavies leaned on Barry Billong to make him propose to Officer Flunk?” asked Brutus.

“Probably Sarah’s cousins getting sick and tired of her waiting around for this no-good Barry to finally leave his other girlfriend,” said Harriet with a shrug.

“And Dan’s stolen toy train? And Ted Trapper’s fake lottery ticket?”

“I’ll bet that Dan Goory arranged the theft of that locomotive himself,” said Harriet. “He’s been wanting to lay his hands on that thing for so long. You know what collectors are like. Sometimes they go a little berserk.”

“And Ted’s Powerball ticket?”

“Oh, honey plum. Don’t you know by now that people will go to any lengths to get their hands on a little bit of money?”

“Even nice Ted Trapper?”

“Of course! Human nature is what is. They simply can’t help themselves, the poor dears.”

“Do you think Fido also arranged his so-called inheritance himself?” I asked.

“Of course! Can you imagine having to cut people’s hair all your life! I think Fido is probably ready to tear his own hair out by now, and so he made up this entire inheritance story to give himself an excuse to start a new life without people asking him a lot of annoying questions.”

“And Wilbur and his princess?”

“Oh, Maxie,” she said with a smile. “You know Wilbur. Of course he made the whole thing up. It’s just the kind of thing he would do. The man can’t get a woman to give him the time of day so now he invents an actual princess to save face in front of his friends and customers.” She shrugged. “Like I said, it’s all a simple case of human nature. And if you’re a keen study of humans, like I am, this is all very easily explained.”

“I don’t know,” I said, not entirely convinced.

“I think you’ll find that these people all want something so badly that they’ll go to any lengths to get it—even lying and cheating and stealing.”

“People are weird,” said Dooley, nodding.

“I just wish we could be there when Chase interviews Madame Solange,” I said.

“Oh, if you want I’ll do the honors,” said Norm. “I can be your fly on the wall,” he added with a sly little grin.

“Would you, Norm?” I asked. “I’m really curious what she’s going to say.”

“She’ll say the exact same thing I just told you,” said Harriet. “Just you wait and see.”

Harriet’s theory sounded very plausible, but it still didn’t explain why Marge had suddenly lost all recollection of who Chase was, or why Uncle Alec was still missing. But of course my friend could be right, and Madame Solange could be absolutely uninvolved in all of these strange occurrences.

I guess we’d soon find out—or at least our resident spy fly Norm would.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Norm the fly was on a mission again, and this time the mission was even more hairy than his previous ones. He’d been given the order straight from the head of the secret service himself: Max, or, as Norm liked to call him: M.

M had tasked him with a mission to eavesdrop on Chase as he interviewed Solange, and come hell or high water, Norm was going to see this dangerous mission through.

Dangerous because any mission involving humans was fraught with a certain measure of peril, as humans don’t like flies, and enjoy swatting them at any occasion.

But Chase looked like the kind of guy who would stand a fellow a chance, even when that fellow was a fly. And besides, the cop was so preoccupied with his do-or-die interview that he presumably wouldn’t even notice the fly observing the proceedings.

So Norm flew on down to the local police station like a bat out of hell, then straight in through the window and took up position in a corner of Chase’s office, ready for action.

And he didn’t have to wait long, for he’d only just arrived when the suspect was led in. Madame Solange, or Caprice Cooper as her real name apparently was, much to Norm’s disappointment, looked almost like a regular person. Gone were the flowing robes, and the low voice, even the smoky makeup. She now looked like any other young woman, one Norm wouldn’t give a second glance if he passed her on the street.

Not that he ever gave any human a second glance, unless they came after him with a fly swatter.

“Please take a seat, Miss Cooper,” said Chase.

“Mrs. Cooper,” the woman corrected him.

“Oh, that’s right,” said Chase, consulting a file on his desk. “Your husband is Geoff Cooper? Likes to call himself Wolf Moonblood?”

“Yes.”

“The owner of Circus Moonblood.”

Mrs. Cooper nodded, and glanced around a little uncomfortably.“So why am I here?”

“The thing is, Mrs. Cooper, that a number of complaints have been made.”

“Complaints? About me?”

“I’ll just run down the list, shall I? And you can tell me what you think.” And Chase read out the entire list of strange occurrences that had taken place of late, and stressed that each time the people it happened to had previously visited Madame Solange.

Solange shrugged.“I don’t know anything about that, Detective. Basically I just tell people what they want to hear, and they pay me very handsomely for the privilege.”

Chase sat back.“So you tell the people what they want to hear…”

“Yep. That’s my big trade secret. I hope you won’t blab about it,” she added with a half-smile.

“But… so how do you explain that people actually get what they want… but in evidently fraudulent ways?”

“No idea. I guess you’d have to ask them.”

“Take Dan Goory for instance,” said Chase. “He wants a certain model train, he tells you he wants this model train, you tell him he’llget his model train, and a couple of days later it arrives on his doorstep… stolen from a collector in Bridgeport. How do you explain that?”

“Simple. Mr. Goory wanted that train so badly he stole it. And now he’s blaming me.”

“Have you been to Bridgeport lately, Mrs. Cooper?”

“Nope. I’ve been right here in Hampton Cove since I arrived in town a week ago.”

“Where were you on the evening of the fifteenth at ten o’clock?”

“Like I said, I haven’t left town since I arrived—me and my husband.”

“Mr. Russ Mulling, the collector of this very valuable locomotive, claims to have been the victim of a burglary on that particular night. He even got a snapshot of one of the thieves.” The cop placed a picture in front of Madame Solange, who glanced at it without much interest.

Norm, who liked to do things properly, buzzed down from his hiding place, and did a quick flyby to get a closer look. M would want him to memorize all the details.

Madame Solange, or Caprice Cooper, frowned at him and even made to swat him! Luckily he was a trained spy fly, and managed to escape unscathed. The man in the picture was very large, had a crooked nose and cauliflower ears, and looked like a boxer. He also looked exactly like one of the three men who’d abducted Uncle Alec!

“I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” now said Solange.

“Or what about this man?” said Chase, and placed another picture next to the first one. “He was caught on CCTV leaving the Toyota dealership where Barry Billong works, after threatening Barry that he’d break his legs, arms and neck if he didn’t propose marriage to my colleague Officer Sarah Flunk.”

Once again Norm did a flyby, and this time he saw that this second man was the same man as the first man, the knowledge of which would have saved him a dangerous stunt, as once again Solange tried to slay him with a swatting motion of her hand!

“Like I said, I don’t know this man, have never seen this man, and have no idea why he would do such a thing,” said the fortune teller.

“Look, I’ll be blunt with you, Mrs. Cooper,” said Chase.

“I thought you already were being blunt, Detective Kingsley,” said the woman with a smile. She was charming, Norm thought. Very charming—and potentially deadly!

“You promise people the world, and then all of a sudden, and seemingly out of the blue, people get exactly what they asked for. Only it’s not the hand of Lady Luck making their dreams come true but this man and his associates. So that leads me to think—”

“That I run some kind of wish-fulfillment racket? Why would I do that, Detective? Why would I risk going to prison just to collect a measly fifty bucks from my clients? You’ll have to admit that doesn’t make any sense.”

Chase stared her down for a moment, but Solange easily held his gaze.

“All right,” said Chase finally. “You can go. But I’ll be watching you, Mrs. Cooper. And if I find that you do know these people, I will find you.”

“Oh, please do, Detective,” said Solange, her voice almost a purr. “In fact I hope you do drop by sometime. I’m sure there are things you wish for that I could easily make come true.” And with these words, which practically amounted to a gauntlet being thrown down, wrapped in flirtatiousness, she walked out.

The moment she had, Chase glanced up at Norm.“Did you get all that, buddy?”

“Oh, yes, Chase, thank you,” said Norm, pleasantly surprised at this acknowledgment.

The cop shook his head.“I can’t believe I’m talking to a fly. I must be losing it.”

Chapter 37

The four of us had decided to stick close to Marge. Obviously the poor woman wasn’t well, and it behooved us, as the family pets, to keep an eye on her.

She was seated on the couch, watching the Kardashians, and laughing loudly in all the wrong places, while her husband kept darting anxious glances in his wife’s direction.

Vesta was also there, though she seemed less worried about the whole thing. But then Gran is a tough old bird, and probably has been through a lot worse than her daughter forgetting a few minor details about her life, such as the entire existence of Odelia’s boyfriend.

And it was as we were watching the shenanigans of Calabasas’s first family that Norm came buzzing in, and we all turned to him, eager for some news from the front lines.

“She didn’t do it,” he said immediately. “No motive.”

“Oh,” I said, deflating a little.

“Yeah, Chase grilled her pretty hard, but she didn’t crack. Did you know, by the way, that Solange isn’t her real name? She’s really called Caprice Cooper, and she’s a lot plainer-looking without all that makeup and those funky witch’s robes.”

“Great,” said Brutus. “So now we have a crime but no suspect. What are we going to do?”

“I have no idea,” I said.

“Honey?” said Marge all of a sudden.

“Yes, sweetheart?” said her husband.

“Did we always have this many cats?”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” said Gran. “Don’t tell me now you can’t remember our cats!”

“Oh, I remember we had one—but four? That seems like an awful lot of cats, don’t you think?”

“Which one do you remember?” asked Tex.

“Well, that pretty white one, of course. Her name is Princess, right?” She waved at Harriet. “Hi, Princess. You’re a real cutie pie, aren’t you? Sweet, sweet Princess.”

Dooley turned to me with a look of alarm.“Max, Marge has forgotten us—she’s totally forgotten we even exist!”

“Yeah, it certainly looks that way,” I agreed, studying the forgetful woman closely. She was looking far too chipper, I thought. As if she was high on some unknown substance.

“Marge, that pretty white cat’s name isn’t Princess, it’s Harriet,” said Tex slowly.

“Are you sure?” said Marge. “I could have sworn her name was Princess. She certainly looks like a Princess to me.”

“No, definitely Harriet,” said Tex.

“Though I like the name Princess, too,” said Harriet now, preening a little.

Marge stared at Harriet.“So sweet.” She patted ‘Princess’ on the head, then returned her attention to the reality show blaring away on TV.

Gran gave her daughter a look of alarm.“Marge? Don’t tell me you can’t understand what Harriet just said.”

Marge looked up with a sweet smile.“Mh?”

“Harriet, say something,” Gran instructed.

“What do you want me to say?” asked Harriet.

“Ask Marge to name the capital of China.”

“I don’t even know what the capital of China is.”

“Just do it, will you?”

Harriet sighed.“Marge, what is the capital of China?”

But from Marge there was no response. Gran groaned.“I knew this would happen.”

“Honey, did you hear what Harriet just said?” said Tex.

Marge laughed.“But, sweetie, how can I understand Princess? You know cats can’t talk. And now please let me watch the show. I like it. It’s very entertaining.”

Now we all shared a look of alarm.“She was able to understand us before,” I told Gran. “I mean, when we found her wandering in the fields she talked to us just fine.”

“It’s her mustache,” said Gran. “Scarlett warned me that if you let those hairs grow unrestrained they will affect your brain.”

And then she abruptly rose from the couch and stalked out of the room. Moments later we heard her stomp up the stairs.

“Gran is clearly upset,” said Dooley. “She’s probably gone off to cry in her room.”

“Yeah, can you blame her?” asked Brutus. “Marge doesn’t remember us—and she can’t talk to us anymore either. This is a nightmare.”

“Can a ministroke do so much damage?” asked Dooley.

“Yeah, looks like,” I said.

“So maybe she should have another ministroke?” Brutus suggested. “That way she’ll snap out of it. We could knock her on the head, for instance. I’ll bet that would do it.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” I said. “Brain trauma and memory loss are very tricky things. Tex said so himself.”

We all stared at Tex, who sat staring dumbly at his wife, who sat staring gleefully at Khlo? Kardashian complaining about her complexion.

It was a surreal scene, to say the least.

Moments later Odelia walked in, followed by Chase, and they both had that glum look on their faces that spoke of an investigation stuck in the doldrums.

“And?” said Tex hopefully. “Did you make an arrest?”

“Nope,” said Chase. “No motive to speak of, and nothing that directly links her to the string of fraudulent claims. I am going back to the fair tomorrow. Dig a little deeper.”

“I’m also going, and so are you guys,” said Odelia, addressing us.

“Can I come, too?” asked Norm excitedly. “I feel like I’m on a real streak here.”

“Sure you can come,” I said. “In fact we couldn’t do this without you, Norm.”

Norm glowed with pride, as far as a fly who’s not a firefly can glow, of course.

“So there’s been a complication,” said Tex. “Your mother doesn’t seem to remember the cats, except for Harriet, who she thinks is called Princess. She’s also forgotten she can talk to her cats, which is a bad sign.”

“Oh, dear,” said Odelia, sinking down next to her mom and rubbing her back.

Marge gave her daughter a radiant smile.“I like these Kardashians,” she said. “Is this a new show? I hope they keep it going. It’s very funny.”

“It’s been on TV for years, Mom,” said Odelia. “And what is this about you not being able to talk to our cats?”

“Talk to our cats!” said Marge with a tinkling laugh. “Honey, you really have to stop pulling my leg. You know I’m not well—or at least your father seems to think so.”

“Oh, Mom,” said Odelia, casting a look of concern at her boyfriend.

“Oh, hi, dear,” said Marge, noticing Chase. “So did you and Solange go on a date?”

“Yeah,” said Chase after a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“And did sparks fly?” asked Marge with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, sparks flew, all right,” said the cop.

“Good. That girl deserves to be happy. She lost her husband, you know. Sad case.”

“Did Solange lose her husband?” asked Odelia.

“No, she assured me her husband is alive and well,” said Chase.

“I met him,” said Odelia, nodding. “Though I didn’t know he was her husband.”

“Yeah, he runs the circus. According to what I could find out they’ve been married for years. Though it’s hard to be sure, as records are a little sketchy on both Mr. and Mrs. Cooper—seeing as how they travel around a lot.”

Just then, Gran came stomping down the stairs again, holding some mysterious object in her hand. And before we knew what was happening, she’d glued a strip of something under her daughter’s nose, then said, “This hurts me more than it hurts you, honey, but it’s for your own good!”

And then she yanked the strip off, causing Marge to screech out a loud cry, and Tex yelling,“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Waxing her mustache!” Gran held up the strip, now containing lots of minuscule hairs, while Marge sat rubbing her upper lip and giving her mom a look of horror. “Your memory will start coming back now, honey,” said Gran, patting her daughter’s head. “It’s the hairs, you see. They grow straight into your brain and make you forget stuff.”

“Oh, I’ll makeyou forget stuff!” said Marge, and lunged for her dear old mother, who expertly managed to dodge this attack.

And soon Marge was chasing her mom around the family room, with Gran waving that strip of waxing paper like a banner.

“This is fun,” said Norm. “Is this the way you guys spend all your evenings?”

Chapter 38

Tex wasn’t exactly feeling on top of the world when he walked into the New York Lottery Customer Service Center the next morning. There was a line of people waiting as he settled in at the back, holding his winning ticket in his hand. His plan was to cash in and head straight to the travel agent to book that Caribbean cruise for him and Marge.

Marge might be suffering from severe memory loss now, but once she was aboard that fine and luxurious vessel and cruising along the Caribbean, he hoped that bracing ocean air would do her good, as well as being away from Hampton Cove for a while.

The door opened again and a familiar figure walked in and joined the line.

“Oh, hi, Charlene,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

The Mayor frowned and sized him up as if she’d never seen him before in her life, then said, “Tex Poole, isn’t it? Doctor Tex Poole? I never forget a face.”

Tex laughed a light laugh.“Very funny, Charlene.”

“Why do you keep calling me Charlene? It’s Madam Mayor to you, Dr. Poole.”

“But…”

“Look, I know there’s this tendency nowadays to call public servants by their Christian name, probably exacerbated by social media and its pernicious influence, but I for one am absolutely against that sort of familiarity. I worked hard to become Mayor of this town, and I think I deserve the respect that comes with the job, Dr. Poole.”

“Oh, sure,” said Tex, wondering if the whole world had gone stark raving mad.

“Now please tell me, Doctor. Is this where I can buy tickets for the Bruce Springsteen concert?”

“Bruce Springsteen?”

“I’m a big fan of Bruce Springsteen, and I just have to get tickets for his next show.”

“This is the claim center for the New York Lottery,” said Tex, choosing his words carefully, lest Mayor Butterwick suddenly stage an attack on his person—she looked a little manic, he thought.

“Lottery?”

“Yep,” he said, pointing to a large banner that said, ‘New York Lottery—We Always Go For Your Win!’

“Oh,” said Charlene, then seemed to give herself a little shake. “Then I guess I made a boo-boo,” she said, and promptly walked out again.

And Tex was still thinking about this strange conversation with Charlene when it was his turn to turn in his ticket. The woman behind the counter gave him a welcoming smile, indicating she was there to go for his win, and scanned his ticket in her little scanning gizmo. Her smile faltered when the results of the scan appeared on her screen.

“Is something wrong?” asked Tex.

“Where did you get this ticket, sir?” she asked.

“I bought it at the General Store,” he lied through his teeth.

The woman gave him a quick glance, then seemed to press a button underneath her desk.“I’m afraid there’s been some kind of mistake, sir. This ticket is a forgery.”

“A what?” he asked, aghast.

The woman nodded, then darted a look behind Tex. And when he turned, he saw they’d been joined by two very buff-looking gentlemen, who didn’t look like they were going to do whatever it took for Tex to get his win.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Chase was on his way to the station when he got the call.“Yeah, Dolores,” he said, after pressing a button to activate his wireless headphones so he didn’t have to take his hands off the steering wheel. “Shoot. But not with live ammo, please.”

And he was still smiling at his corny joke when Dolores’s raspy voice announced, “Just got a call from the lottery office, sweetie. Looks like your future father-in-law was just caught trying to cash in on a forged lottery ticket.”

“Oh, God,” he said, and promptly made a U-turn.

“No, still Dolores,” said the station dispatcher, now chuckling at her own corny joke. “Maybe it would save us time if you just went and arrested your entire family, Chase,” she added. “We already booked Vesta yesterday, now it’s Tex’s turn, so I’m just wondering when we’ll have to haul in Odelia and her mom.”

“Very funny, Dolores,” he grunted, squeezing that accelerator closer to the metal.

“I knew I should have become a standup comedian,” she said and disconnected.

Moments later he was parked in front of the lottery office and heading inside. After introducing himself to the lady at the desk, he was buzzed into the office behind her, and the scene he found next was a little disconcerting: there Tex Poole sat, two very large security guys hovering over him, the good doctor looking very embarrassed indeed.

“I didn’t do it, Chase!” said Tex. “I didn’t doctor a fake lottery ticket!”

“I’ll take it from here, shall I?” Chase suggested, and escorted the doctor out of the office.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” said Tex once they were outside. “First Alec is abducted, then Marge loses her marbles, and now I’m arrested—am I under arrest, Chase?”

“No, you’re not,” said Chase. “Though the New York Lottery might press charges so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to call your lawyer.”

“Word will spread,” said Tex miserably, “and my patients will think I’m a cheat and a fraud. How am I ever going to face them?”

“Just tell them what you told me. That you’re not a fraud. Do you still have the envelope the ticket came in?”

“No, I threw it away.”

“Can I see the ticket?”

Tex handed him the ticket in question.

“Looks genuine,” said Chase, studying the winning lottery ticket that should have netted Tex fifty thousand smackeroos but had instead landed him in hot water—and not the Caribbean kind either.

“It’s a fake,” said Tex. “Those guys in there? They told me it’s not even a good fake. They say people try to defraud the lottery all the time, and as far as fakes go, they’ve seen it all, and this one looks like it was made by a ten-year-old.” He sighed. “So even as a fraud I’m atotal failure.”

Chase placed his hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Dad. I’m going to get to the bottom of this thing, and when I do, we’ll be able to clear your name, all right?”

Tex nodded.“These are strange times we live in, Chase. I just saw Charlene in there, and she didn’t even know who I was. Can you believe it? Looks like she lost her memory, too—just like Marge did.”

And as Chase watched the doctor walk down the street, on his way to his office, his shoulders stooped and looking distinctly dejected, the cop figured now was as good a time as ever to follow up with the Mayor.

Chapter 39

Charlene Butterwick was busy at her desk when Chase walked in.

“Yes, yes, YES!” the mayor practically screamed, which caused the cop to raise one eyebrow incrementally and wonder if perhaps the doctors at the hospital had discharged the burgomaster a little early.

“Hi, Charlene,” he said warmly. “Just thought I’d drop by to give you an update on the investigation.”

“What investigation?” said the Mayor, turning a feverish eye on him. “WHAT INVESTIGATION!”

“Um, the one about the home invasion?”

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “WHAT HOME INVASION!” she screamed, and suddenly picked up a small bust of the previous mayor and threw it at his head!

Chase expertly ducked the bust, and watched it crash against the wall behind him.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Charlene?” he asked. “You look a little… stressed.”

“What’s with people calling me Charlene!” she said. “It’s MADAM MAYOR to you, sir. MADAM MAYOR to all! And who are you?”

“Chase… Kingsley?” he said, starting to recognize the same signs Odelia’s mom was displaying. “Detective Kingsley,” he added, figuring that maybe using his official title would protect him from more busts being aimed at his noggin.

“DETECTIVE Kingsley,” said Charlene between gritted teeth. “Look at me. I’m a professional woman with a very, VERY busy schedule. So why did you think it was a good idea to BOTHER ME WITH THIS NONSENSE!”

“But—”

“GET OUT!”

“But Madam Mayor!”

“OUT!” she screamed, and lifted up a slightly heavier version of the first bust. Before she could throw it, though, he’d already followed her advice and hurried out of the office.

There was a dull clunking sound when the bust hit the closed door behind him, and a loud scream of frustration and then all was quiet again.

Chase cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Charlene’s secretary Imelda, who gave him a distraught look.

“She’s not herself, Detective,” said the woman, stating the obvious. “I don’t think she even remembers who I am anymore. One moment she calls me Mildred, the other Deirdre. And she keeps telling me to gather the troops for an emergency meeting. I figured she meant the council members, butI really can’t expose her to their scrutiny when she’s behaving like this. They’ll have her carted off to the nearest loony bin!”

“I think she probably needs to see a professional,” Chase agreed. “She never should have been discharged so quickly.”

“Oh, but physically she’s perfectly fine,” said Imelda. “She’s got the strength of an ox. Only this morning she threw a bust of Mayor Moss through the window that must have weighed at least thirty pounds. It narrowly missed the head of one of the gardeners.”

“She threw a bust at me, too,” said Chase. “Two, even.”

“Maybe she should pursue a career in basketball when politics doesn’t pan out,” Charlene’s loyal secretary said, darting a worried look at the door of her employer.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Father Reilly gave the cord attached to one of the bells in the church bell tower an extra vigorous pull, making it spread its sound far and wide and inviting parishioners to join the priest for mass. Very soon now the church would not only have the new roof he’d been pestering anyone who would listen about, but a brand-new set of bells, too!

So it was with a swing in his step that the white-haired priest now set foot for his office, where he’d been working on a jubilant sermon to rival the Pope’s Easter homily.

Father Reilly wasn’t usually the kind of person to believe in fortune tellers or psychics or tarot readers or people of that ilk, but he’d been seduced to the dark side when one of his parishioners had returned from a visit to Madame Solange and had sang that talented woman’s praises. This particular parishioner had suffered from a very stubborn form of toe fungus and Madame Solange had told him that very soon now he’d come into the possession of a cream that would clear up that fungus once and for all.

And lo and behold, the very next day just such a cream had found its way into his possession in the form of a UPS delivery, and the first results were promising indeed.

So Father Reilly had momentarily suspended his disbelief and had paid a visit to the wondrous world of Madame Solange. The woman, after gazing intently at her crystal ball, had told him a new church roof would soon materialize, as well as a new set of bells for his bell tower, and so it was with a sense of anticipatory glee that the priest now opened his laptop and added a few more phrases to his latest sermon—a real scorcher!

“Jesus wants the best for each of us, and so nothing but the best is what each of us should expect,” he murmured as he deftly stabbed at the keyboard in his usual hunt-and-peck approach to typing.

Just then, a messenger suddenly appeared in the door, looking bored.“Package for Francis Reilly—please sign here,” the messenger intoned in a monotone, and held out a stylus for Father Reilly to use. After having jotted down a scribbled affirmation that he was, indeed, Francis Reilly, the priest eagerly began unwrapping the package. It couldn’t be a new church roof, as usually church roofs are a little bigger than the five-pound package that was now on his desk. But it could be a bundle of cash, or a sheaf of checks.

But when finally he’d opened the package, he found that it contained a set of bells—very, very small ones.

He sank back on his chair as he stared at them.

But before he could wonder who was playing this cruel joke on him, suddenly two more people appeared in his office, this duo hoisting a microphone and a camera.

And as he glanced up, still struggling to contain his disappointment, the one with the microphone asked,“So did your wish come true, Father Reilly? Did Madame Solange work her miracles again?”

He would have thrown them out on their ear, or given them a piece of his mind, but a good Christian doesn’t let his anger get the better of him, and so he said, in measured tones, “I think there’s been some kind of mistake.”

Chapter 40

Usually when people announce that they’re going to spend a fun day at the fair, this is greeted with loud cheers and happy faces all around. When Odelia had told us last night that she wanted us to join her at the fair, only grim faces set with resolute looks of determination greeted her announcement.

It had, after all, been one of those weeks, where tragedy meets misery, and bumps shoulders with terrible misfortune.

For a short rundown I’d like to remind you that this was the week Uncle Alec had been kidnapped, Marge Poole had lost her mind, Tex Poole had been accused of lottery fraud, Charlene Butterwick had gone cuckoo, Gran had been arrested numerous times, Dan Goory had been accused of theft, Sarah Flunk had been proposed marriage by a car salesman and wannabe bigamist under duress, Wilbur Vickery had been accused of lies and deceit by the British royal family, Fido Siniawski had been accused of deceit by an uncle who wasn’t even his uncle, and I’m probably forgetting a host of other stuff.

All in all, it had been a pretty eventful couple of days for Hampton Covians, and it all seemed to be connected to the fair in some way that Odelia vowed to figure out before the day was through.

Lucky for us, we had a powerful ally in Norm, or Buzzing Bond as he was now calling himself. So it wasn’t without a certain sense of hope that we piled into Odelia’s aged pickup, and made the trip down to the fair.

“So you guys spread out and try to pick up some of the chatter, all right?” said Odelia, giving us some of those last-minute instructions any good coach knows mean the difference between winning or losing.

“Yes, Odelia,” said Dooley dutifully.

“Meanwhile I’ll go and have another word with Madame Solange. There simply has to be a connection between what she claims to see in that crystal ball of hers and what’s been happening to the people of this town.”

“Do you think she’s a witch?” asked Harriet now, introducing an interesting new theory.

“I’m sorry, Harriet, but witches don’t exist,” said Odelia with a smile.

“But… how about Harry Potter?” asked Dooley, looking disappointed. “Doesn’t Harry Potter exist?”

“Harry Potter is fiction, Dooley,” said Odelia. “He’s not real, and neither is the world of wizardry described in those books.”

“Are you sure?” my friend asked, looking stricken by this revelation.

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Odelia. Her smile then was replaced with the look of determination that had been there before. This was clearly a woman on a mission—a mission to find her missing uncle, and her mother’s missing memory.

“I just hope that we won’t lose our memory, too,” said Brutus, striking the morbid note. He turned to Harriet. “If I forget who you are, honey bunny, I just want you to know that the last couple of months have been the best years of my life.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you, honey plum,” said Harriet. “But don’t worry about losing your mind. If you forget who I am I’ll simply hit you over the head until you remember.”

Brutus gulped a little at this, and I think it was safe to say he swore a solemn oath right then and there never to lose his memory.

“Chase just called,” said Odelia as she cruised along the small roads that traverse the fields surrounding Hampton Cove. “My dad tried to cash in his fifty-thousand-dollar lottery ticket and was almost arrested for fraud. Turns out the ticket was a fake, and now they’re considering pressingcharges against him. And Chase was chased out of Charlene’s office—he says she doesn’t remember who he is.” She sighed. “Things just keep getting worse and worse, don’t they?”

“You’ll figure it out,” I assured my human. “And we’ll help you as much as we can.” I was drawing the line at entering Madame Solange’s trailer, though. The woman was a cat hater, and there was no telling what she might do when she laid eyes on us again.

“So what is my mission, M?” asked Norm.

“Your mission, if you choose to accept it,” I said with a smile at the industrious fly, “is to sneak into Solange’s trailer once more and try to find out as much as you can about her operation. There must be something we’re missing, Norm. There just has to be.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said the fly. “One more question if I may, sir?”

“Shoot, Norm,” I said, perhaps a little injudiciously.

He dropped his voice an octave, to indicate the gravity of his request.“Do I have a license to kill?”

“Yes, you do,” I said, just as gravely. Extreme situations demand extreme measures, and even though I didn’t believe in executive force, as far as I was concerned we needed to go to any lengths now to find Uncle Alec and restore law and order in our small town.

“So what are you going to do, Norm?” asked Brutus. “Kill your target by buzzing them?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me, Brutus,” said Norm, swelling up a little from sheer self-importance. “Agent Buzzing Bond always hits his target.”

“Oh, boy,” said Harriet, shaking her head. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve landed in the middle of a vaudeville act. And a pretty lame one, too.”

“I think it’s great that Norm is offering to help us,” said Dooley. “We need all the help we can get on this one.”

“Rightly spoken, Dooley,” I said.

“I feel like we’re up against a formidable enemy,” my friend continued. “An enemy whose name just might begin with Volde and end with Mort, if you see what I mean.”

“Oh, Lord,” Harriet groaned. “Please kill me now.”

“I could, if I wanted to,” said Norm seriously. “But even though I now have a license to kill, I like to use it with extreme caution, so you’re off the hook, Harriet.”

For a moment I thought Harriet would use her license to kill to swat Norm, but she restrained herself with an extreme effort, restricting herself to giving me a very dirty look indeed. It was obvious what this look said: when this is over, that fly’s ass is grass.

Chapter 41

Solange, when she entered her trailer, was surprised to find her husband of fifteen years gazing steadily out the window, staring at nothing in particular.

“Wolf, honey,” she said. “Are you all right?”

Wolf turned.“Mh?” he said. “Oh, sure. Fine, fine.” Then he frowned. “It’s just that…”

“More strange dreams?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I dreamt last night that I was a cop.” He chuckled at this. “Can you imagine? Me! A cop!”

Solange gave her partner a look of concern.“You know what you should do? Go and have a long talk with Selena. Like you promised you would.”

“I don’t want to talk to your sister,” said Wolf, his smile vanishing. “Every time I talk to her I end up with a splitting headache.”

“That’s because you fight her,” said Solange. “If you’d simply go along with her and do what she says, you would be just fine.”

Wolf’s face had taken on the mulish look she’d seen there so often these last couple of days. “I don’t think I like your sister. She always looks at me funny.”

“Funny, how?”

“Like… she thinks I’m not firing on all cylinders or something.”

“No, she doesn’t. She’s just concerned about you, that’s all. Like we all are.”

“Areyou concerned about me?” asked her husband, now turning away from the window and giving her a quizzical look.

“Of course I am. You’ve been behaving really strangely, honey. You know you have.”

“It’s these dreams,” he muttered, and patted his gelled hair, which soon looked like a bundle of porcupine quills sticking in every direction. “These dreams I’ve been having.”

“Stop touching your hair,” she said, annoyed.

“I like touching my hair. It makes me feel good.”

“I just wish you’d stop. You’ll ruin your perfect coif.”

He nodded obediently and heaved a deep sigh.“I’ll go and see your sister.”

“Thank you,” said Solange, much relieved. “You’ll feel much better once you do.”

“I wonder, though…” said Wolf with a frown.

“Yes?”

He stared at her for a moment.“A woman came to see me yesterday. She said her name was Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter.”

Solange’s expression darkened. “Yes, and?”

“Somehow she looked… familiar. Though for the life of me I can’t seem to place her.”

“Then don’t. She’s just a nosy parker—snooping around and asking a lot of annoying questions.” Not for the first time Solange felt they probably should shake Hampton Cove’s dust off their feet. In their line of work overstaying their welcome usually led to trouble. “If she comes back,just let the boys handle her, all right?”

“All right,” said Wolf vaguely.

She walked up to her husband and planted a gentle kiss on his lips.“Promise me,” she said, fixing him with an intent look.

“She’s just a reporter, sweetie. I can handle reporters.”

“Promise me,” she insisted when he tried to avoid her gaze.

“Okay, okay, I promise. I don’t see what the big deal is anyway.”

“Trust me, it’s important,” she said, placing her hands on his sideburns. “You’re going to need another touch-up soon,” she announced with a smile. “After you’ve talked to Selena,” she quickly added.

“Oh, all right,” said her reluctant husband.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Odelia met Chase in the fairground parking lot. The cop had brought a couple of colleagues, and they’d already drawn up their plan of campaign: Chase had finally decided that there was no use hiding the truth from his fellow officers any longer, and had gathered them together in the police precinct main office that morning after returning from his visit to Charlene, and told them that Alec Lip,their beloved boss and chief, had been abducted.

Since the kidnappers hadn’t been in touch since the abduction, it was safe to assume that their demand that the news of his abduction remain a secret was now null and void.

So this had officially become a rescue mission, and the main investigation Chase and the rest of the Hampton Cove Police Department would pursue from now on.

“Do you really think Uncle Alec is being held here somewhere?” asked Odelia.

“I have no idea, babe,” said Chase. “But I’m willing to bet my badge that he is. And if we find this guy,” he added, holding up a picture of the man with the crooked nose and the cauliflower ears, “we’ll be much closer to the truth.” He’d distributed the picture among his officers, and he’d vowed to leave no stone unturned to find the guy today.

“I want to have another word with Solange,” said Odelia. “Though I doubt whether she knows anything. I’m starting to think someone is using her to set up some kind of scam operation.”

“Which begs the question: what do they hope to gain from making people’s wishes come true? Solange was right: for a measly fifty bucks she promises people all kinds of things, so where is the benefit?”

She patted her boyfriend’s chest. “I’m sure you’ll find out, Detective.”

“All right, people!” Chase yelled to his collected colleagues. “Let’s do this!”

And thus Operation Save Chief Alec was finally underway—officially this time.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

The fairground was buzzing with activity. It wasn’t just a fair, but also a circus, and since Madame Solange and her cohorts were part of the circus setup, and circuses, as far as I’d ascertained from extensive research—all the hours spent watching movies and television shows—employ at any given time any number of heavily built men, possibly outfitted with crooked noses and cauliflower ears, I decided this should be our focus.

So it was with a certain measure of resolve that Dooley and I headed that way, while Brutus and Harriet, who had other opinions on how to run an investigation, went the other way, vowing to take a closer look at some of the other attractions, such as there were a hot dog stand, a funnel cake stand, a cotton candy stand, a deep-fried Twinkie stand, an ice cream stand, a jalapeno popper stand, a fried chicken stand, a lobster corn dog stand… In other words: Brutus was probably hungry, and so was Harriet.

“Do you know I’ve never been to the circus, Max,” said Dooley as we approached the area where the large and potentially dangerous circus animals were kept—the man with the cauliflower ears hopefully one of them—all of them preferably behind lock and key.

“No, me neither,” I admitted.

“Circuses really aren’t that popular anymore, are they?”

“No, I guess people nowadays favor other forms of entertainment,” I said.

“Such a pity,” he said. “Circuses are a lot of fun. With the trapeze artists and the clowns, and all the wild animals.”

We’d now arrived at the spot where the cages containing these wild animals were located, and as we walked past them, I felt pity for the poor creatures. “Lions really shouldn’t spend their time traveling around in circuses, though,” I said. “They probably would be much happier in their natural habitat.”

A particularly sleepy-looking lion now stared back at us from his cage, and opened his mouth to yawn.

“Hi, there,” I said. “My name is Max and this is Dooley. Could we perhaps have a moment of your time, good sir?”

“Sure,” said the lion. “What do you want?”

“Well, we’re actually looking for one of our humans who’s gone missing.”

The lion laughed at this.“You misplaced your human, huh? Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.”

“Yeah, he’s gone and got himself kidnapped,” I said. “So now we’re trying to find him.”

“And what does this human of yours look like may I ask?”

“Oh, he’s big and a little heavyset, with a paunch and not much hair on top of his head.”

“You’ve just described pretty much every single male over fifty that walks around this place all day,” said the lion. “So I’m afraid you’re gonna have to be more specific, cat.”

“Max,” I said. “The name is Max.”

“Uncle Alec is a cop,” Dooley specified. “He’s chief of police and is usually dressed in his police uniform, complete with a holster where he likes to keep his gun safely tucked away, and his badge on his chest, and a cap on his head, and he drives a police car, too.”

The lion smiled.“I’m afraid I haven’t seen him, fellas. But maybe ask Bella over there. She gets around more than I do.” He gestured to an elephant who was getting a nice scrub from one of her carers.

“Thanks, Mr. Lion,” I said.

“Leo,” the lion said. “And I hope you find your human. I wouldn’t like losing my own human, to be honest.”

I gave the lion a look of concern.“Do they–do they treat you well here, Leo?”

“Oh, sure,” said Leo. “Can’t complain. Plenty of food and plenty of exercise if that’s what you mean. And the people taking care of me are nice enough. And if I promise not to chomp their heads off when they stick it between my teeth I get an extra snack in the evening, so life is pretty sweet as far as I’m concerned.”

I gulped a little. I wouldn’t want to be the person sticking my head between this big lion’s teeth, but then humans are a little weird, as I think I’ve reiterated more than once.

“I wonder what life must be like for a lion like Leo,” said Dooley as we walked on. “To have to do all kinds of tricks for food, I mean.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be in his place,” I said.

“Though in a sense Odelia expects us to perform tricks in exchange for food, too, right?”

I hadn’t looked at it that way, but Dooley was right. We were playing detective in exchange for board and lodging. “I guess so,” I said therefore. “Though at least she doesn’t lock us up in a cage.”

We’d arrived at Bella’s dwelling, and I recognized her from the parade we’d seen the day we spent in the company of Charlene.

“Hi, Bella!” I said, raising my voice a little, as Bella was towering over us. She was an impressive animal, and now sat in a large tub, her back being scrubbed with a big brush.

Bella looked down at us with a curious look.“Hi, cats,” she said finally.

“Leo told us you might be able to help us,” said Dooley. “Our human has gone missing. He’s a police chief who wears a police chief’s uniform, a police chief’s cap and drives a police chief’s car. He’s also very large and has no hair on his head. So have you seen him maybe, Miss Bella?”

The elephant laughed.“I’m sorry, you guys, but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone answering to that description, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, visibly disappointed.

“The thing is, strange things have been happening, Miss Bella,” I said. “People have been going to see Madame Solange and their wishes have all been granted, but then it turns out it’s all bogus. Fake lottery tickets, stolen items, and cases of outright fraud. And it all started when the fair set up in Hampton Cove. So now we’re thinking there might be a connection.”

“Oh, and our human doesn’t remember us,” said Dooley, deciding to reveal all to this elephant.

“Sounds like you guys are in a real pickle,” said Bella. “Lucky for me my human hasn’t forgotten me yet. For if he did, there would be hell to pay.” And to show us what she meant, she lightly patted her carer on the head.

I gulped, thinking I wouldn’t want to risk the wrath of this particular elephant. “So you can’t help us, then?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not, cat,” said Bella, “though if you want to talk about strange happenings taking place, I can absolutely relate. For one thing, the circus director disappeared a few months back, only to suddenly turn up again a couple of days ago. So go figure.”

“And who’s the director of the circus?” I asked, though of course I already knew this.

“Solange’s husband. Guy called Wolf Moonblood,” said the elephant. “Solange was really sad when he disappeared, and she’s been very happy since his triumphant return, so at least that story has a happy ending.” She smiled down at us. “I hope your story will have a happy ending, too.” And to show us she had her big heart in the right place, she suddenly showered us with a spray of soapy water.

So we quickly skedaddled, but not before trying to shake off this impromptu shower!

Chapter 42

When Odelia walked into Madame Solange’s lair for the second time in two days, she didn’t exactly know what to expect. At the very least she wanted to dig a little deeper into the mystery of her mom losing part of her memory the day before, after their joint consultation.

As she walked in, the guard gave her the same unfriendly glare he’d awarded her the day before, and she saw that a sign had been hung up in the waiting room, a disclosure that the consults were being filmed and if you didn’t want your consult to be filmed you had to tell Madame Solange before the session began.

Moments later the curtain shifted and the fortune teller beckoned her in.

“Back again, huh?” said Solange with a smile. “Couldn’t get enough of my predictions?”

“Not exactly,” said Odelia as she took a seat, and watched how Solange removed the doily from her crystal ball. “Look, something happened to my mom after we came to see you yesterday. She’s been acting very strange.”

“Strange, how?”

“Well, she doesn’t remember my boyfriend, for one thing, and now she insists he goes out on a date with you instead.”

Solange grinned at this.“I’m sorry, hon, but I’m a happily married woman, so…” Then she turned serious. “Has she suffered memory loss before?”

“No, but I lost track of her yesterday for a while, and when we finally found her she was wandering around in the fields near here, barefoot and obviously confused. She also doesn’t remember what happened.”

“So maybe she took a stumble and hit her head?” Solange shrugged. “I don’t think you can hold me responsible, Miss…”

“Poole,” said Odelia. “Odelia Poole. And I’m not holding you responsible, but lots of strange things have been happening since you set up shop in my town, so…”

“So now you’re blaming me for… what exactly?” asked Solange, her smile having been replaced by a slight look of annoyance.

“I’m not blaming you for anything. Just saying it’s an awfully strange coincidence, that’s all.”

Both women faced off for a moment, then the fortune teller said,“Fine. Wait here a moment, will you? I think I might be able to help you.” And abruptly she took off through another curtain and into a part of the trailer Odelia assumed were her private quarters. She heard Solange talking on the phone, and moments later the curtains through which Odelia had entered moved and a woman walked in. She looked a little like Solange, but was older and her face sported a hard look.

“Hi, I’m Solange’s sister Selena,” said the woman. “She told me you have some kind of complaint?”

“I have no complaint,” said Odelia as Solange joined them and now both women stared down at her, none too friendly. Suddenly she didn’t feel entirely safe anymore, and wished she hadn’t come.

Selena took a seat on Solange’s chair and said, “Now look here, Miss Poole…”

“Yes?” said Odelia, and made the mistake of looking straight into the woman’s eyes. They were a very dark green, she saw. And all of a sudden she was feeling a little weak. And before long a sense of nausea and dizziness started washing over her.

She was vaguely aware that the woman was talking to her, though for the life of her she couldn’t tell what she was saying.

And then the floor was racing up to her and darkness closed in from all sides…

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Dooley and I were more or less aimlessly wandering around the fairground. Our interviews with the animals making up the wild animal contingent of Circus Moonblood hadn’t exactly given us much to go on—if anything. And since we didn’t want to set paw inside Madame Solange’s trailer again, we decided to take a look around, hoping to stumble upon the kind of clue leading to the unraveling of this deepening mystery.

“Do you think Marge will get her memory back, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I hope so. It wouldn’t be nice if she didn’t.”

“She can’t even talk to us anymore. Which is really strange, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“What if Odelia also loses her memory? Or Gran? Then none of our humans would be able to talk to us.”

“That wouldn’t be good,” I agreed. “Though the chance of Odelia forgetting who we are is very slim, Dooley. Nonexistent, even.”

Just then, I suddenly thought I saw Odelia being ushered out of Madame Solange’s trailer, and so we both quickly made our way over to report—though really there wasn’t all that much to say.

“Odelia!” I said as we trailed after her. She was acting a little strange, I thought, not at all steady on her feet and staggering around like a drunken sailor.

She was leaning against another trailer, this one announcing it sold the most delicious caramel apples in the Western hemisphere, and the moment we caught up with her, Dooley happily said,“So did you get your fortune told, Odelia?”

Odelia stared at us for a moment, then said,“Oh, hi, cats. I like cats,” she announced, then promptly threw up right then and there!

“Looks like she ate a bad caramel apple,” Dooley said.

“So we talked to the lion and the elephant,” I said, “and they both say they haven’t seen Uncle Alec. They’re also not aware that anything out of the ordinary is going on.”

“I gotta get out of here,” Odelia muttered, wiping her lips. “Bye, cats.”

“Bye, Odelia,” I said, confused. Then, on a hunch, I added, “You can still understand us though, can’t you?”

But instead of responding, she just walked off!

So I quickly followed her and said,“Odelia? Talk to us, please?”

But she continued to simply ignore us!

“Odelia?” I said, concern making me a little anxious. “Is everything all right?”

Then, suddenly, she said,“What’s with all the meowing, cat? Can’t you see I have no food for you? Now get lost. Go back to your owner—if you have an owner.”

And with these words, she stumbled off.

Dooley and I shared a look of shock.

“She forgot about us, Max!” said Dooley, summing up the state of affairs very succinctly. “She’s completely forgotten that we exist!”

Chapter 43

Chase was starting to feel like an automaton after having shown the picture of that boxer type fellow to anyone he saw. All of the people working at the fair gave him the same reply:‘Never seen the guy before, Detective.’

They did it with a certain shifty-eyed cautiousness that made him think that they knew perfectly well who the guy was but were either too intimidated to tell him the truth or were simply circling the wagons and giving this nosy cop the runaround.

And he’d just walked away from an awkward encounter with a juggler who gave him a very unfriendly stare in response to his question when suddenly he found himself coming face to face with… Chief Alec!

“Chief!” he cried, surprise making him a little squeaky-voiced. “Hey, there, buddy!”

But Alec wasn’t responding with the same joyful surprise at this happy reunion. On the contrary, he simply stared at Chase as if he were a bug he’d just discovered in his potato salad. He didn’t look like the Alec he knew, either: he was sporting some sort of ridiculous outfit: black leather jacket and black leather pants, and on top of his head was a wig of some kind and his face had been festooned with sideburns and a mustache.

“Do I know you?” asked the Chief coldly.

“Alec, it’s me—Chase!” he said, patting his own chest, then holding out a welcoming hand, which the other pointedly ignored.

“I’m afraid you must be mistaking me with someone else,” said Alec. “My name is Wolf Moonblood, not… what did you call me?”

“Alec Lip,” said Chase, sobered to some extent. He was pretty sure he wasn’t mistaken, so he approached the guy and grabbed his ridiculous hair and yanked it off.

As he’d surmised, it was just a wig.

“Hey!” said Alec, grabbing at his now hairless head. “What do you think you’re doing!”

“What’s going on, Alec?” asked Chase. “Don’t you remember me?”

“Give me back my hair,” said Alec coldly.

Chase frowned, then decided to take things a little further still, and took a good grip on the man’s mustache and gave it a yank. It easily came off, and now he was holding both the man’s hair and his mustache. Only those ridiculous sideburns were left.

“Hey! This is assault!” said the Chief. “I’ll have your badge for this, you ridiculous…”

“Alec, buddy!” said Chase. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you gotta snap out of it!” And for good measure he snapped his fingers in the man’s face a couple times.

Alec blinked, then frowned.“I would like to have my hair and mustache back now.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” said Chase, and took a firm grip on the man’s sideburns and pulled. There was a slight ripping sound, and both came off in his hands, too!

And there he stood: Chief Alec Lip, large as life, and looking decidedly dazed after having been divested of all of his facial hair.

But before Chase could slap the man on the back and invite him for a drink to tell him what had happened, suddenly three burly men arrived on the scene and attached themselves to his arms and started to drag him off instead!

“Let go of me!” he bellowed, and fought them off as well as he could. Now Chase was a powerfully built man, but he was no match for three brutes like this, and before long he was being muscled off the premises and deposited squarely at the entrance to the fair.

“And stay away!” warned the biggest and toughest of the trio.

“I’m a cop!” he said, and showed them his badge. “And you’re holding a man prisoner!”

“Oh, buzz off, cop,” said one of the goons with a shrug.

“I’ll be back,” he warned.

“Promises, promises,” said the guy, who had a cleanly shaven head, was wearing red Converse shoes, had a crooked nose, cauliflower ears, a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on his neck and spoke with a Boston accent. And only then Chase realized thatthis man resembledthat man very closely indeed—the man he was looking for!

He now took the picture he’d been showing around out of his pocket.

“This is you,” he said.

The man glanced at the picture, then at Chase, and said,“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is!”

The man looked over to his musclebound colleagues, and they must have exchanged some sort of secret silent code, for moments later they had attached themselves to Chase’s arms again, and this time proceeded to drag him in the opposite direction!

“Hey, you can’t do this to me!” said Chase.

“Oh, shut up already,” grunted Cauliflower Ear. “Why is it you people always have to come and ruin things for us.”

“Heeeeelp!” Chase yelled, feeling a little annoyed he had to ask for help from others while he was usually so capable of taking care of himself. “I’m being abducted!”

But then Cauliflower Ear grunted something, hauled off, and planted a meaty fist on Chase’s jaw, and all of a sudden the lights went out and the world turned dark.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Officer Sarah Flunk was feeling a little blue. Her boyfriend of several months had finally proposed, only for him to tell Detective Kingsley he’d only proposed after being coerced, which made the whole thing leave a very sour taste in the young police officer’s mouth. In fact she wouldn’t mind smacking Barry in the face right now, the bastard.

And as she showed the picture of that unsavory character who’d forced Barry into proposing marriage to her while also having a hand in Chief Alec’s kidnapping to another stallkeeper, she suddenly became aware of a fracas or altercation (or even a skirmish), so she heaved a deep sigh and headed on over to see what was going on.

Great was her surprise when she found none other than her commanding officer Detective Kingsley staggering around, looking as if he’d drunk more than he was used to.

“Detective Kingsley, sir,” she said while bystanders laughed at the drunk cop. “Let’s get you out of here.” And she started leading the inebriated cop away from the scene.

He was leaning heavily on her, which was a little inconvenient as he was almost twice her size, but she still managed to put some distance between themselves and the onlookers.“What happened, sir?” she asked once they were on their way to the parking lot.

“Who are you?” asked Chase, a distinct slur to his speech.

“What do you mean?” Oh, God, he was completely off his face, wasn’t he?

“What do you mean what do I mean? Who are you and who am I?”

“I’m Sarah, sir. Sarah Flunk? And you’re Chase Kingsley. Detective Chase Kingsley with the Hampton Cove Police Department.”

“Who?”

“How much did you have to drink, sir?” she said, shocked at his behavior. Chase usually was so well-behaved, and a stickler for protocol and correct procedure, too.

“Where am I?” the cop asked now.

“At the fair,” said Sarah in clipped tones. She really liked Chase, both as a colleague and a human being, but there were limits to what she could tolerate from anyone, and she drew the line at public drunkenness, and certainly drinking on duty. “We’re looking for Chief Alec, remember?”

“Who’s Chief Alec?” slurred Chase, his eyes swiveling in every direction.

Just then, Sarah saw Odelia Poole.“Odelia!” she called out. “Can you please help me put Chase in a car? He’s completely wasted.”

Odelia gave her a strange look, then said,“Who are you and what are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend is drunk!” said Sarah emphatically. She didn’t like to be put in this situation.

Odelia looked at her, then looked at Chase, then said,“I’ve never seen this man before in my life. Now leave me alone!”

Chapter 44

To say that we were feeling a little under the weather was an understatement. First one of our humans had lost her mind, and now the second one! If this kept up, Dooley’s fear that all three of the humans who could talk to us would soon be lost to us was going to become a reality!

“It’s this Madame Solange, Max!” said Dooley. “She must have done something to Odelia—she simply must have!”

“I think you’re right, Dooley,” I said. “But how do we prove it?”

We’d taken up position not far from Solange’s trailer, trying to figure out how to proceed. So far we hadn’t come up with a single plan, the emotion of seeing our favorite human in the world looking at us like a dead fish having completely discombobulated us.

Just then, Norm came buzzing over.“Have I got news for you guys!” said the spy fly.

“And we’ve got some news for you,” I said. “Odelia has suddenly developed an acute case of memory loss and now she doesn’t even know who we are!”

“Or is able to understand a word we say!” Dooley added, looking distinctly down in the dumps, as did I, for that matter.

“I think I know what’s going on here, fellas!” said Norm. “I was in there just now, when Odelia was being hypnotized!”

“Hypnotized?” I asked, staring at the fearless fly.

“Hypnotized!” he repeated. “Apparently Solange didn’t like the questions Odelia was asking, so she called her sister, who came over immediately, and proceeded to put some kind of spell on her. Odelia blacked out, and when she came to, they kicked her out!”

“But… how is that even possible!”

“Oh, it’s possible,” said Norm. “I saw them do it, and while Odelia was under, they were saying how she wouldn’t remember a thing—not who Solange was, or why she was there—or even her own name!”

“So that’s how they do it,” I said. “Hypnosis!”

“I’ve seen a documentary on hypnosis,” said Dooley, “on the Discovery Channel. It’s not very nice. They can make people do almost anything. In the documentary they made a man eat worms, after convincing him it wasn’t worms but potato chips. He thought it was delicious but it looked really, really gross!”

Norm stared at Dooley for a moment, then shook his head.“No, they didn’t feed Odelia worms. But they did convince her to forget anything to do with the fair, or Solange or the investigation.”

“Oh, this is so not good,” I said. “Now she’ll never be the same again.”

“They can be cured, though,” said Dooley. “There is some kind of code word they use and when they say it, the person snaps out of it.” He smiled. “You should have seen the look on the man’s face when he realized he’d eaten a whole plate full of worms!”

“Nice, Dooley,” I said, though I was relieved to hear that Odelia could be cured, and so could Marge, who probably had been the victim of the same tactic.

“Oh, and they just did the same thing to Chase,” said Norm. “A couple of really big guys brought him in, completely unconscious, and this sister of Madame Solange, whose name is Selena, by the way, revived him, and then, while they held him down, did the same thing to him she did to Odelia. So I’m afraid now you have two humans who won’t even remember their own names, you guys.”

“Oh, God,” I said. I darted a glance at the trailer of this Solange person, and wondered how we were going to stop her from hypnotizing the entire town of Hampton Cove! Just then, a man hoisting a camera on his shoulder, and another man holding a microphone, downed tools right next to where we were hiding under the trailer. They shook a couple of cigarettes out of a packet and lit them, then took a long drag.

“I hate this job,” confessed the cameraman. “When is it going to be finished?”

“Not until the brass figure we’ve got enough footage,” said the microphone guy.

“And when will that be? I reckon we’ve got plenty of footage already.” He ticked it off on his nicotine-stained fingers. “We’ve got hours and hours of Solange doing her trick, dozens of clients on tape, and we’ve interviewed the entire staff of this stupid circus and everyone else involved. The only ones we haven’t talked to are the animals!”

“Look, we just gotta keep on going,” said his colleague. “We sure get paid enough.”

“You think? Peanuts, man, compared to what Solange and her family are netting.”

“You know something I don’t?”

“A hundred and fifty million bucks!”

Microphone Man whistled through his teeth.“Woo-wee. That’s a lot of dough.”

“You bet it is. Hotflix is clearly betting on a runaway hit, and I’ll bet they’ll get it, too.”

“Another Kardashians, only this time with a slightly more unusual family.”

“Keeping up with the Moonbloods,” said Camera Guy with a grin, then took another long drag from his cancer stick and dumped the butt right next to Dooley and me, stubbing it out with his foot.

“There’s been talk of the miracles all being bogus, though,” said his colleague. “Cops are getting involved.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too. But who cares, right? It’s just a show. And as long as the ratings go through the roof, Solange and company will keep raking in the millions.”

And then he dumped his cigarette butt, too, and both men were off.

We watched them enter Solange’s trailer, presumably to film some more footage of unsuspecting Hampton Covians being promised the moon by Solange and her sister.

Before Dooley and I could discuss what we’d just discovered, a man suddenly came hurrying in the direction of the trailer. It was Wolf Moonblood—only he had a wig haphazardly placed on top of his head, sideburns equally haphazardly pasted to his cheeks, and his mustache was completely askance.

He entered the trailer, crying,“Solange! Solange! Some guy messed up my hair!”

Dooley and I shared a look of understanding.

“Dooley,” I said. “I think we just cracked this case.”

“And me!” said Norm excitedly. “I cracked it, too, right?”

“You did the heavy lifting, Norm,” I said with a smile.

And for a tiny fly that was a real feat.

Chapter 45

Gran was reluctantly ambling along, taking in the sights and sounds of the fair that had graced her town with its presence. Next to her, Scarlett was teetering along on her high heels, and alternately nibbling and sucking at an ice cream cone.

“You have to lick it,” said Vesta, watching the spectacle with distaste.

“What are you talking about?” asked her friend, smacking her lips.

“You lick ice cream, not bite it or suck it—you lick it. With your tongue.”

“Look, it’s my ice cream so I’ll do what I want with it.” Scarlett attacked the thing again, making horrible sucking sounds as she did. “If you don’t like it, get your own.”

“I hate fairs,” Vesta grumbled.

“That’s because you hate everything.”

“No, I don’t. I like TV. And I like…” She paused, trying to think of what else she liked, until she caught Scarlett’s grin and grunted, “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But you were thinking it!”

“Oh, so now I can’t even think what I want?”

“You know what I mean.” Her granddaughter had convinced her to tag along while a big police operation was being conducted to find Vesta’s missing son. She didn’t have high hopes. The cops in this town didn’t exactly have a great track record catching the bad guys. Instead they kept arresting Vesta and Scarlett, even when they hadn’t done anything wrong!

So when she caught sight of a couple of officers sticking a piece of paper with a mug shot of the suspect under people’s noses, she sniffed annoyedly. “What? You don’t think they’ll find your son?” asked Scarlett.

“They couldn’t find my son if he danced in front of them dressed in nothing but a hula skirt,” she said. She frowned as she suddenly saw Sarah Flunk escorting Chase off the scene, the latter looking a little ill-footed for some reason. “Will you look at that? I think Chase just went and gothimself in trouble.”

“I like Chase. I think he’s a great cop, and he’s not bad-looking either,” said Scarlett.

“Watch it, you,” said Vesta, wagging a bony finger in her friend’s face.

“What did I say this time?!”

“Chase is spoken for, you know that.”

“I just said—”

“I know what you said, and I know how your mind works, and you’re not going to—holy cow, what’s going on over there?”

She’d suddenly spotted her cats, waving frantically at her from underneath a trailer.

She hurriedly joined them, as did Scarlett, though at a slower pace, due to those damn high heels she always insisted on wearing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked once she’d crouched down, her knees creaking as she did.

“It’s Odelia,” said Max. “She’s been hypnotized.”

“And Chase, too!” said Dooley.

“And so has Uncle Alec!” Max added.

“And he’s lost his hair and his mustache and his sideburns!”

“And can you even understand what we’re saying or have they gotten to you too?!”

She stared down at her cats.“I can understand you loud and clear,” she said. “And what’s all this stuff about hypnotizing?”

“Who’s been hypnotized?” asked Scarlett.

“Will you please be quiet? I’m trying to talk to my cats.”

“In any other universe that sentence would earn you a one-way trip to the nuthouse,” Scarlett announced.

“Madame Solange has a sister,” said Max. “And that sister has been going around hypnotizing people, and making them forget who they are. She hypnotized Odelia just now, and Chase, too, and probably also Marge and Uncle Alec.”

“And now Uncle Alec thinks he’s a man named Wolf and he’s married to Solange!” Dooley finished.

“What are they saying?” asked Scarlett.

“Can you just be quiet for two seconds?”

“We also overheard two men talking,” Max continued, darting anxious glances around, “and the family of Solange has signed a contract with Hotflix for one hundred and fifty million dollars for an exclusive reality show. Which is going to show how she makes people’s every wish come true. Likea modern-day Santa Claus, only the female version. And so Solange and her family have been going around making sure those wishes all come true—only they haven’t. Not really. They’ve been faking the whole thing. But the network doesn’t care. As long as the ratings go through the roof, they just don’t care.”

“Oh, my God,” said Vesta, getting up and rubbing her painful knees. She turned to her friend. “Bad business, honey. Very bad.”

But Scarlett was looking the other way, her arms crossed in front of her chest and pointedly ignoring her.

“Now what?” asked Vesta.

“Do I have permission to speak, General? Are you absolutely sure, Your Highness?”

“Yeah, you have permission to speak.”

“Well, now I don’t wanna—so there.”

“Solange’s sister has been going around hypnotizing people to forget they exist.”

“Who exists?”

“They! Solange and her family! And they’ve been making people’s wishes come true for this big reality show they’re doing—a contract worth nine figures if you please!”

“Nine figures!”

Vesta nodded.“So how do we handle this is what I want to know. This Solange is clearly a very dangerous woman, and her sister even more so.”

Scarlett then slowly turned to her, a smile forming on her lips, and Vesta could just see the thought forming in her friend’s head, and the same smile soon spread across her own features.

“The watch is on this, buddy,” said Scarlett, holding out her hand.

“Yeah, we got this,” Vesta confirmed, and tickled Scarlett’s fingers with her own. She then looked down at Max and Dooley, and the fly that kept buzzing around their heads. “I’ve got a very important assignment for you guys. Are you game?”

“Just don’t forget about us, Gran,” said Dooley. “Please don’t forget who we are!”

“Oh, I can promise you that I won’t, Dooley,” she said.

“That’s what Odelia said,” said the small gray cat sadly. “And look what happened to her.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Solange had just promised a middle-aged woman that any day now she’d come into the possession of a very large sum of money when suddenly the curtain of her domain was thrown wide and a very irate-looking Ida Baumgartner came charging in, a smallish man in tow.

“You promised me my husband would return to me!” Ida bellowed. “And look what I found on my doorstep this morning. This weird-looking creature!”

“My name is Burt Baumgartner,” the small guy intoned. “And I have returned from the dead to love my wife for all eternity!”

“This is not my husband!” said Ida. “This is Barney Grogan—the butcher!”

“I love you, Ida,” said the little guy, and puckered up his lips for a kiss, earning himself a ringing smack around the head from Ida.

“He doesn’t even look like my husband!” Ida cried.

“I’m very sorry,” said Solange, throwing an apologetic glance at her other client, who stood watching the scene with interest. “For customer complaints I’ll have to refer you to my sister. She’s over in the next trailer. She’ll happily assist you in this matter.”

“I will always love you, Ida, dear,” said the smallish man, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, go away, Barney,” said Ida, and both of them walked out.

Solange rolled her eyes. Clearly her sister was starting to miss the ball lately. First this whole business with Wolf’s family, and now this? If she kept this up even Hotflix would start doubting the fat check they’d written them.

The client left her trailer, after Solange once more promised her that the money would arrive any day now, and she quickly glanced into the waiting area, and saw she had no more customers. Great. She needed a break.

But before she could withdraw into her private lair, suddenly the sound of a cat mewling made itself heard right outside the trailer door.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” she said, and stalked over. “How many times do I have to tell you not to let—” But the man she’d been scolding for gross negligence wasn’t standing sentry as he usually was. “Maxim?!” she called out. Where the hell was that no-good lazy bum now? So she opened the door to take a look, and suddenly felt a jolt like she’d never felt before. It was as if she’d been struck by lightning. And then she was going down, her face hitting the ground before she knew what had hit her.

And just before she passed out, she thought she caught a glimpse of a little old lady with white hair, holding a very big Taser in her hand, and giving her a big toothy grin.

Epilogue

I lazily opened one eye to take in the scene. Odelia was there, of course, and so was Chase. In fact our human’s entire family was there: Tex and Marge, Uncle Alec and Charlene, and Gran and Scarlett.

All of them were seated around the garden table, with Chase expertly flipping burgers and making sure his (future) family members were all taken care of—food-wise.

Marge and Odelia had had their memories returned to them, and so had Uncle Alec, though the latter still had a tendency from time to time to touch his hair, presumably hoping to find it thick and lush and gelled in place. What he found instead were the few stray wispy strings that had been there for a while—much to his disappointment, too. I didn’t doubt that at some point in the future he’d order himself a nice toupee or wig.

Chase, too, had had his memory restored, and now remembered who he was and where he was and how he’d gotten there. And our humans could talk to us again, imagine that!

It had taken some arm-twisting on Gran’s part to make that miracle happen, but Solange’s sister Selena had finally agreed to reverse the spell she’d put on the Poole family members, and they’d soon snapped out of their hypnotism-induced funk.

Charlene, too, had been saved from the kind of feverish spell she’d been under, and it was safe to say things had mostly returned to normal. In her case it had been a little trickier, as Selena had hypnotized her over one of her goons’ phones. As a consequence the spell had taken longer to take hold, but was more pernicious, and harder to reverse.

“So all this for a little bit of money?” asked Harriet.

“Not a little bit,” I said. “Unless you think one hundred and fifty million is nothing.”

“It is a lot,” she allowed, “but they never would have gotten away with it, would they?”

“I think they might have,” I said. “If they could have just kept on hypnotizing people and sending their goons around to make people’s wishes come true.” Like Santa’s elves, if Santa’s elves had joined the Mob.

“Amazing,” said Brutus, but he was referring to the piece of delicious turkey meat Odelia had handed us, not the case of Solange and Selena.

“I still think it’s a sad story,” said Dooley. “Solange must really have missed her husband to go to such lengths.”

“Yeah, but she shouldn’t have kidnapped Uncle Alec just because she missed her husband,” I said.

As it happened, Solange’s husband Wolf had died six months before, breaking his neck when he fell from the roof of his circus tent. And because he had no insurance, Solange and her sister decided not to tell anyone he’d died. They simply buried the body in the town where Circus Moonblood had been set up at the time, and pretended he’d skedaddled after a fight with his wife. She’d missed her husband, of course, and so had the circus, which had to go on without its leader. There had been some grumblings in the ranks about the leadership the sisters were extending, and it became clear they needed a new boss tofirmly take the reins. And then one day Uncle Alec and Charlene dropped by Madame Solange for a session. Solange had immediately noticed the resemblance to her late husband, and so she and her sister decided on a wild scheme: they’d abducted the Chief, dressed him up as Wolf, and with some of Selena’s hypnotic trickery, Chief Alec had actually believed he was Wolf Moonblood and so had everyone else!

“Do you remember anything?” asked Scarlett now. “Anything at all?”

The Chief gave her a rueful look.“Not much. I do remember I had to feed the elephant one day and he must have smelled that I wasn’t Wolf for he gave me a really weird look and then smacked me in the face with his trunk!”

They all laughed at that, but I thought it was pretty smart of Bella. At least she hadn’t been hoodwinked the way the others had. Of course if Dooley and I had managed to get up close and personal with ‘Wolf’ I’m pretty sure we would have known he was in fact Chef Alec, too.

I placed my head on my paws again. I’d eaten my fill and now it was time for a nap.

“Chase is a much better grill master than Tex,” said Dooley, chewing delightedly.

“Yeah, he certainly is,” I muttered sleepily.

“I thought he and Tex were taking a barbecue cooking class?” asked Brutus.

“Oh, they did,” said Harriet. “But Tex set fire to the kitchen on his first day, so they banned him from the class.”

“Too bad,” said Dooley. “I think Tex really likes to grill—only he has zero talent.”

“Just like I love to act, but I have zero talent, too,” I mumbled.

“So is Hotflix going to air the new show?” asked Brutus.

“Nope,” said Harriet. “And WLBC-9 have cut all ties with them after the whole fiasco.”

Hotflix had struck a deal with the network, filming the whole thing under the local station’s banner and pretending they were creating a documentary, not wanting the new show to be announced before it was in the can. But the two companies had fallen out after Solange and Selena had been arrested. Now only the lawyers would benefit.

“Do you think I should grow a mustache, though?” asked Uncle Alec, thoughtfully rubbing his upper lip.

“No, I don’t,” said Charlene crisply, and promptly slapped his hand away.

The Mayor still hadn’t completely forgiven her boyfriend for spending time in another woman’s bed—even though he claimed to have no recollection whatsoever.

“Burger up!” Chase yelled, and loud cheers rang out all around the table.

The sun was shining, birds were tweeting, our humans were happily prattling, meat was sizzling on the grill, spreading its delicious aroma, and all in all I thought all was well with the world. And I would have dozed off, if Norm hadn’t suddenly buzzed up to me, and announced happily, “Max! Buddy!”

I opened my eyes and heaved a deep sigh.“Norm, hi,” I said. We hadn’t seen the big fly around for a while. “How are things in the world of the flies?”

“Oh, great!” said the indomitable spy fly. “You remember how you told me I’d always have a home in your home?”

“Of course,” I said. “As long as you don’t touch my food you can buzz around as much as you want.” I’d even told Odelia as much, and she’d specifically instructed her family members not to take out the fly swatter if they saw Norm buzzing about.

“So do you remember you also told me I could bring along my family if I wanted to?” Norm now asked, still buzzing in front of my nose.

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“Oh, Max, you didn’t,” said Harriet.

“Oh, yes, I did,” I said. “Norm has done so much for this family that it’s only right for us to give something back.”

“But, Max—”

“It’s done, Harriet.”

“But, Max!”

I held up my paw, to indicate that as far as I was concerned, the discussion was over. She closed her lips with a click of the teeth, and proceeded to give me a furious look. I know I probably should have discussed this with my housemates, but it was the right thing to do!

“Thank you so much, Max,” said Norm, buzzing up and down with obvious glee. “So I’ve brought my family over, and they’re all anxious to meet my benefactor, the great M.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” I said with a tired smile. This case had taken a lot out of me, and I frankly needed to catch up on my sleep. Then again, I didn’t want to be rude, and so I was more than willing to say hi to Norm’s mom and dad, and his siblings, too.

“Come on over, you guys!” Norm yelled. “Meet my best friend Max!”

But before Norm’s family could join us for this happy occasion, suddenly a large cloud blocked out the sun. It was so large that the entire backyard was plunged into darkness, and the Pooles all glanced up in surprise.

“What’s going on?” asked Charlene.

“I didn’t know it was going to rain,” said Uncle Alec, holding out his hand.

“’Sunny,’ it says here,” said Marge, referring to the weather app on her phone.

“It’s because you didn’t let me near the grill,” said Tex moodily. “Nature is feeling my mood.”

“We didn’t let you near the grill, honey,” said Marge, “because we don’t enjoy being poisoned on a weekly basis.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“I still love you, though,” said his wife, and planted a kiss on the sulking doctor’s cheek.

“It’s not a cloud,” said Gran suddenly. “It’s…”

“Flies!” Scarlett yelled. “And I’m wearing my brand-new white dress!”

She was right. Before our very eyes, hundreds of flies suddenly came buzzing over to where we were pleasantly lounging on the porch swing. Did I say hundreds? I meant thousands—maybe even millions!

They were suddenly everywhere: on our fur, on the table, on the potato salad, the coleslaw, the baby carrots, on the nice sausages, the steaks, the ribs, the burgers, swarming around our humans, and generally acting like an invasion army!

“Heeeeelp!” said Scarlett, swatting them away. “They’re in my hair!”

They were in everyone’s hair!

“Well, Max!” said Norm, over the deafening droning noise of the swarming insects. “Now these are my brothers and sisters—and my aunts and uncles—and my cousins and my nieces and nephews… on my mother’s side. My dad’s side got held up when a farmer dumped a truckload of manure on hiscornfield and they couldn’t resist a free buffet so they’ll get here a little bit later. Guys, this is Max! Or M as I like to call him!”

“Norm—how many are there!” I yelled, afraid to open my mouth for fear they’d simply swarm in and start buzzing around inside my tummy!

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said with a smile. “I have a big family, but then that’s flies for you—we love our crazy, big fly families.”

I glanced over and saw that Harriet was eyeing me furiously.“Flies breed like… flies, Max, didn’t you know? There are probably millions! And now they’ll all come and live with us. In our house! Eating our food! And… defecating all over the place!”

Oh, dear. I’d really gone and done it this time, hadn’t I?

“It’s all right, Max,” said Dooley, though it was hard to make out his features through the haze of flies. “You did it out of kindness, and the universe rewards acts of kindness.”

Our humans were frantically clearing the table and escaping inside, and Harriet and Brutus were escaping in the direction of the bushes at the bottom of the garden, and soon it was just me and Dooley and Norm and his million-strong family.

“Ma!” Norm yelled. “Come over here and meet Max!”

A very large fly materialized out of the swarm and greeted me warmly.“Thanks for being such a good friend to my Norm, Max. He’s a good boy, my Norm is. A little rambunctious, maybe, but he’s got his heart in the right place. Now could you please tell him to find himself a nice girl and settle down—maybe he’ll listen to you. He certainly doesn’t listen tome, the little rascal!” And she proceeded to give her son a stern look. At least I think she did. It’s kinda hard to read a fly’s facial expressions, if you know what I mean.

“Oh, Mom. There’s plenty of time for that sort of thing!” Norm said laughingly.

And as Dooley and I watched on, Norm’s family attacked the food our humans had left on the table. I think it’s safe to say this was not my finest hour, but at least, as Dooley had suggested, the universe would probably reward me for my kindness, right?

“Maybe we can ask Solange’s sister to hypnotize them,” said Dooley after a while. “Make them forget we exist, you know. She seems to be really good at that sort of thing.”

I watched as Marge’s nice white table cloth quickly turned a muddy brown.

And then we decided to flee the scene, too. So we hopped down from the swing and hurried inside through the pet flap. But who was I kidding? Flies are hard to keep out, and soon they were following us inside, buzzing around everywhere we looked.

Our humans were all seated around the kitchen table, and giving me hard looks.

“Max,” said Gran suddenly. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“Um…” I said, prevaricating mightily. But Gran’s stare is something else, so quickly I hung my head. “Yeah, it is,” I admitted. “I told Norm he could bring his family over—and he has.”

“Oh, dear,” said Marge, watching as her clean kitchen window was now speckled with hundreds of tiny dark spots.

But then Gran and Scarlett shared a look, and suddenly Gran brought out a stun gun, and Scarlett what looked like a can of mace. They both got up, and Gran bellowed,“Flies! You have ten seconds to leave this house or we’ll zap you straight back to where you came from! We are the neighborhood watch, and we are not kidding around!”

Norm came buzzing up to me, looking a little nervous.“What’s going on?” he asked.

“New assignment, Norm,” I said, darting an anxious look at Gran and Scarlett, who were now counting down from ten to one. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to head on over to the other side of town, and… and…”

“See what Bella and Leo are up to,” Dooley added.

“Yeah,” I said, giving Dooley a grateful smile. “And better take your family with you.”

“My entire family?!” Norm said excitedly.

“Of course. If they’re cut from the same cloth as you are, they’ll prove invaluable to the service. Wonderful spies, one and all.”

“Oh, Max—that’s so generous of you! So what’s the file on Bella and Leo?”

“Um… well, we’ve received credible intel that they might be foreign agents.”

“We’re on it, sir!” said Norm, and before Gran’s countdown had ended, he and the rest of his family had all buzzed off.

“See!” Gran cried as she watched the swarm of flies all disappear. “The watch rules!”

We decided to let her enjoy her moment of triumph. After all, she had saved this family from certain doom, not to mention several family members of eternal memory loss. The watch might not be the success story Gran had envisioned when she started it, but it wasn’t a total failure either.

“What are you going to do when Norm returns from his ‘mission?’” asked Odelia as she gave us a cuddle. Contrary to her grandmother, she knew who’d saved the day.

“We’ll just give him another one,” I said with a smile.

She hugged us close, and we both hugged her right back. We’d almost lost our human to Solange’s shenanigans, and it had made me realize just how lucky we were to have Odelia—and the rest of her family, too. There might not be millions of them, like Norm’s impressive swarm, but when it comes to family I guess it’s not about the quantity, but about the quality. And I can proudly say we had the best family any cat could hope for.

Suddenly Odelia stared at me with a frown.“I’m sorry,” she said. “But do I know you?”

I looked up at her in alarm, and so did Dooley.

“Oh, no!” my friend said. “Max, it’s happening again!”

But then Odelia’s face broke into a wide grin. “Just kidding, you guys!”

Yep. The best human in the world.

And she’s funny, too!

Or at least she thinks she is.

29. PURRFECT FITNESS

Chapter 1

There’s a story someone once told me about not judging a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes. And I remember thinking at the time that this story doesn’t really apply to cats, since we don’t wear shoes. Still, the gist of the thing has always stuck with me, and when I now watched Odelia and Chase sweating and grunting their way through some sort of aerobics routine, I was reminded of this neat little aphorism or idiom.

It’s hard for a cat to feel a lot of sympathy when humans put themselves through the wringer like this. I mean, no cat would willingly subject themselves to such silliness, but then that’s humans for you. They must have some sort of masochistic streak, and like to torment themselves for no good reason whatsoever.

The shoes Odelia and Chase were wearing were sneakers, so I tried hard to picture myself wearing those same sneakers and jumping around like a crazy person, losing about a gallon of sweat in the process. Try as I might, though, I simply couldn’t see it.

“What are they doing?” asked Dooley, who’d been observing the scene with the same stupefied expression on his face as no doubt I was wearing on mine.

“It’s called aerobics,” I explained. “Humans do it to stay in shape.”

“What shape? Square or round or…”

“It doesn’t matter as long as it’s slim. Humans like to be slim.”

“It looks extremely painful,” Dooley said, wincing a little as Odelia practiced a high kick that looked very dangerous indeed.

“Humans like to suffer,” I explained.

“So weird,” Dooley said with a shake of the head.

On the television a man was showing our humans how it was done. He was a man with a big curly head of hair, a pink sweat headband and very bright spandex clothes. Behind the man were five women mimicking his every move, just the way Odelia and Chase were, and the music pumping through our living room speakers accompanying the man’s instructions was loud and energetic. It also made my ears bleed.

Well, maybe not literally, but you know what I mean. Cats have a very sensitive sense of hearing, and the noise from the TV was very unpleasant to say the least.

I liked that Odelia wasn’t alone, though. In case she pulled a muscle, her boyfriend could immediately call for a doctor—and she could do the same for him. Also, they say couples who suffer together, stay together, and judging from the pained grimaces on our humans’ sweat-soaked faces, they were suffering a lot, which boded well for their future.

“You would think that after spending so much time with our humans we would understand what they’re up to,” said Dooley. “But the opposite seems to be true. The longer I’m with them, the less I understand them.”

“You certainly have a point, Dooley,” I said, as I felt exactly the same way.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened and Grandma Muffin walked in. She cast one look at her profusely sweating and grunting granddaughter and boyfriend, shook her head in dismay, and walked out again. Gran doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and whatever she had to tell us could probably wait.

Suddenly the doorbell chimed, and since Odelia nor Chase reacted, I easily slid down from my perch on the couch and ambled over to see who it was.

Cats can’t open doors, unfortunately, but they can take a peek through the letterbox and ascertain the identity of the person making a house call, which is what I did now.

Much to my surprise, the person standing in front of the door was the same person now working up a sweat on our television screen and shouting a good deal as he did.

For a moment I thought I was seeing things, for he looked exactly the same as he did on TV: that same curly head of hair, that same garishly colorful spandex outfit, and the same sneakers. Only the man at the door had a careworn expression on his face while the man on TV looked like he was about to reach his personal peak of pleasure.

So I padded into the living room again, and tried to attract Odelia’s attention. It took me a while to accomplish this feat, as she was just demonstrating a very complicated routine that involved jumping up and down while waving her arms just so. Finally she dragged her eyes away from the screen and saw I was also waving my paws, only without defying gravity theway she was.

Immediately she turned down the sound.“Yes, Max?” she said, panting heavily while planting her hands on her hips. “What do you want, buddy?”

“There’s a man at the door,” I said. “The same man that’s on TV, in fact.”

“Maybe he’s here to give you some extra instructions,” Dooley suggested.

“Yeah, that could be it,” I said, nodding.

“He probably thinks you did something wrong and he wants to correct you in person,” Dooley added as he placed his head on his front paws.

“What’s going on?” asked Chase, who’d also become aware of this sudden lull in the proceedings.

Just then, the man at the door made his presence known once more by pressing his finger on the bell and this time keeping it here, causing it to jangle freely—usually a sure-fire way of making sure whoever is inside comes to the door post-haste.

Odelia now grabbed a towel and as she dabbed at her face hurried into the small hallway and opened the door. She must have been as surprised as I was to see her television fitness instructor in the flesh, for she stammered,“Mr. H-H-Hancock!”

“Odelia Poole?” asked the man, looking distinctly ill at ease. “The detective?”

“That’s right—I mean, my name is Odelia Poole, but I’m not a detective. I’m a reporter, actually. With the Hampton Cove Gazette.”

“I’m in trouble, Miss Poole. Big trouble. And I’m hoping you can help me.”

“Yes–yes, of course,” said Odelia, still visibly dazed by this strange coincidence.

When mere mortals meet their heroes in the flesh, they usually respond by turning both tongue-tied and weak-kneed, and I could observe this phenomenon up close and personal in my own human, who looked star-struck by this funny-looking fitness man.

“Can I come in?” asked Mr. Hancock after a moment in which Odelia did nothing more than goggle like a lovesick teenager meeting Justin Bieber for the first time.

“Yes! Yes, please do!” said Odelia, snapping out of her momentary stupor.

“Who is it, babe?” asked Chase as he came to see what was going on. When he caught sight of Mr. Hancock his jaw actually dropped and he just stood there, gawking.

Mr. Hancock smiled nervously, and since his onlookers were now both struck dumb, he did the honors himself by walking into our modest little home, closing the door. Then he said,“I only have four more days to live, Miss Poole, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to find out who’s doing this to me… and maybe stop them from murdering me.”

Chapter 2

Harriet gazed before her into the middle distance, a worried look marring her usually smooth brow.

Next to her, Brutus glanced over, and when he caught the look of worry, reciprocated with a pang of concern himself.“The eyes?” he said.

Harriet nodded.“Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening, smoochie poo, but it looks like I don’t see as well as I used to.”

“Maybe we should tell someone?”

“No!” said Harriet immediately. “I don’t want anyone to know. Promise me you won’t tell a soul, Brutus. Not a single soul!”

“All right, all right,” he said.

Harriet opened and closed one eye, then the other, but the object she was staring at didn’t become any clearer. On the contrary, the rose bush on the other side of the backyard only seemed to become more blurred. Finally she shook her head in dismay. “I don’t know what’s happening, tootsie roll, but if this keeps up soon I won’t be able to see a thing.”

“I’m sure it’s just temporary,” said her partner, giving her a sweet little nudge.

Harriet’s eyesight had been diminishing for the past couple of weeks now, and even though it wasn’t something she liked to discuss with anyone—in fact only Brutus was aware of the baffling malady—it did give her great cause for concern.

Harriet prided herself in her twenty-twenty vision, like most cats do, and this sudden deterioration of what she’d always considered a natural ability was frankly worrying her to no slight degree.

“It could be our diet,” she said now. “Maybe I’ll ask Marge to put some more fresh meat in our diet. All that kibble and packaged food probably isn’t very healthy.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Brutus with a nod. “Or maybe Marge could feed us some of those vegetables humans like so much? Broccoli and, um, tomatoes?”

“Carrots!” said Harriet suddenly. “I’ve always heard carrots are good for the eyes, as they contain beta-carotene, so maybe I should start eating more carrots from now on.”

“Uh-huh,” said Brutus, though he clearly wasn’t a big proponent of this theory.

“You know what? Maybe we can go on a diet together,” she suggested now. “If I’m going to do this, it will be a big sacrifice, snickerdoodle. No more Cat Snax, and no more of those delicious wet food pouches. So let’s do it together. It’ll be much easier for me to keep up with my new dietary regimen if I have you right there doing it along with me.”

Brutus gave her a startled look.“You mean… no more Cat Snax? No more… wet food?”

“That stuff isn’t good for you anyway, sugar lump. And this way you’ll join me on this health kick.” She smiled as she gave her partner a loving nudge. “Thanks, snookums. I owe you one.” And with these words, she disappeared inside to look for Marge and give her the good news.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

A turtle was making its way through the undergrowth. She wasn’t in a hurry, and when she came upon a fresh leaf that had recently fallen from an overhanging tree, she ate it at her leisure. It hadn’t been long since she’d escaped her home, and this sojourn through the wide and open spaces was a real pleasure.

So when she came upon a black cat, muscular and built for action and speed, she eyed it with interest. Turtles, as a rule, are built for taking things slow and at their leisure, and coming upon this supreme specimen gave her a moment’s pause, and even caused her to put down the tasty leaf so she could speak.

“Hi, there, sir,” said the turtle. “Could you please tell me where I am? I seem to be lost.”

The butch black cat glanced down and did a double-take.“I hadn’t seen you there, buddy,” said the cat. “You being the exact same color as the lawn and all… What do you want to know?”

“Where I am, exactly,” the turtle repeated. “You see, I seem to have gotten lost.”

“Who do you belong to?” asked the cat.

“I don’t belong to anyone, sir,” said the turtle, slightly offended. “I’m a free turtle.”

“A free turtle?” asked the cat with a frown. “You mean… you’ve walked all the way here from the ocean?”

“The ocean?” asked the turtle, licking her lips delightedly. “You mean to tell me there’s an ocean nearby?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. But then you probably already knew that, seeing as you come from there.”

“Oh, no. I’ve never seen the ocean in my life, cat.”

“Brutus,” said the cat.

“Nice to meet you, Brutus. My name is Pinkie.”

“So if you weren’t born in the ocean, what do you call home?”

“The pond, of course,” said Pinkie, wondering if all cats were as slow on the uptake as this one.

“Pond? What pond?”

“Well,the pond. Is there any other?”

And seeing as this cat named Brutus hadn’t even heard of the pond before, Pinkie figured she might as well return to her slow but sure-footed progress in the direction of wherever it was that her tiny feet were taking her.

“Wait,” said Brutus. “Where are you going?”

“You clearly have no idea where the pond is, Brutus,” said the tiny turtle, “so I’m guessing you don’t know where the ocean is, either.”

“Oh, I know where the ocean is, all right.”

“You do?”

“Of course.”

She mulled this over for a moment.“Would you mind taking me there, Brutus?”

“Um… yeah. Yeah, why not?”

Pinkie smiled. She was a sociable turtle, and appreciated all creatures, great and small.“Thank you, Brutus.” She then glanced around and noticed the nice backyard, the nice house, and wondered why a cat would want to leave all that behind to go on a trip with a turtle he barely knew. “Don’t you like it here anymore, Brutus?”

“Oh, I like it, I do. But my girlfriend wants to put me on a diet of carrots, and between you and me I’m not all that crazy about carrots, so I figured I might as well lay low for a little while, until this latest craze of hers passes—they tend to pass pretty quickly.”

“Plenty of food in the ocean,” Pinkie said.

“You think?” said Brutus hopefully.

“Oh, sure. Plankton, seaweed, algae, sponges, worms… A regular all-you-can-eat buffet.”

Brutus gulped a little. He didn’t seem to share Pinkie’s excitement for seeking out the ocean, the source of all life, but Pinkie didn’t mind. She was sure that Brutus would grow to love the ocean as much as she did. First they had to get there, of course. But she wasn’t in any kind of hurry—turtles rarely are. And they’d walked about a foot in ten minutes when Brutus said, “This’ll take forever. Why don’t I ask one of my humans to take us?”

And so it was that Pinkie was safely seated on the front seat of a nice car, a little old lady behind the wheel, Brutus in the back, the three of them on their way to the ocean.

Life, Pinkie thought as she happily hummed a merry tune, was pretty darn fun.

Chapter 3

“What is a fitness guru, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I think this guy is one, Dooley,” I said.

We both sat staring at this new arrival, this star who’d suddenly graced us with his star-studded presence. Odelia and Chase certainly were still in awe, judging from their slack-jawed appearance, and their unusual reluctance to utter a single intelligent word.

“I love your workouts, sir,” said Chase, who couldn’t stop grinning like a kid now that he’d gotten over his initial shocked surprise at meeting his hero in the flesh. “I’ve watched all of your YouTube videos and my mom owns all of your videos on VHS—she used to play them to me as a kid, and I just loved watching her work out to them.”

“Is that so?” said Mr. Hancock, who’d taken a seat at the living room table, and took this hero-worship in stride with the ease of a man who’s been in the limelight for most of his adult life. “They’ve all been transferred to DVD,” he said now. “So you might want to give them to your mom as a birthday present so she can continue her fitness routine.”

“Oh, but Mom doesn’t work out anymore,” said Chase.

“No? And why is that?”

“Her health doesn’t allow her to, so…”

“Yeah, I can see how that would complicate things,” said the fitness guru politely.

Odelia gestured to the television.“We were just doing one of your routines, sir.”

“Just call me Randy, will you?” said the man. “And good for you, Miss Poole.”

“Odelia,” said Odelia quickly. “And this is Chase. We’re your biggest fans, sir—Randy.”

“Yes, this is such an honor,” Chase gushed.

“That’s great,” said Randy with a tired smile, then swallowed with a slight sense of unease. He was probably wondering if he’d done the right thing by ringing Odelia’s bell. Talking about his workout tapes clearly wasn’t what he’d come here for.

“It’s so weird to see a person on TV and then to see them in the flesh, Max,” said Dooley. “I think he looks better on TV, though.”

“That’s probably because he was years younger when he taped that video,” I said.

“He looks gaunt and pale. And not very fit.”

“He just told us he’s about to die, Dooley. You wouldn’t look too hot when you only had four more days to live,” I pointed out.

A look of concern clouded my friend’s face. “Is it cancer, Max? Is Randy Hancock dying from cancer? Or maybe because he did too many of his own workouts and his body simply couldn’t take it anymore?”

“I don’t know, Dooley,” I said. “But the moment Odelia and Chase stop telling him how great they think he is, I’m sure he’ll tell us all about it.”

Odelia had provided the fitness giant with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and Chase had finally switched off the workout video still playing on the TV, and Randy, who seemed to have calmed down a little, cleared his throat and said,“First off, you have to promise me you won’t write a single word I’m going to tell you, Odelia.”

“Oh, no, sure,” said Odelia, though she looked a little disappointed. The worst thing for a reporter is to have a national celebrity and cultural icon walk into their home and then tell them they can’t write all about it in an article.

“If it’s medical advice you need, Randy,” said Chase, who’d planted one leg firmly on the floor and the other one on a chair, airing his nether regions after the intense workout he’d enjoyed, “just tell us. Odelia’s dad is a doctor, you see, and he’ll be more than happy to give you a free checkup. Isn’t that right, babe?”

“Oh, sure. And I can promise you my dad is very discreet, Randy. Absolutely.”

“My health is fine,” said Randy with a weak smile. “Though thanks for your concern. No, it’s my entourage I’m having trouble with.” He heaved a deep sigh. “It’s like this. A couple of months ago I accidentally fell from a stepladder and broke my pelvis. The whole thing was extremelypainful, and very inconvenient. As you can imagine, a fitness instructor who can’t teach his classes anymore, and can’t shoot any instructional videos is not much of a fitness instructor. The situation forced me to take it easy for several months while I convalesced at home.”

“That must have been terrible, Randy,” said Chase with feeling. He looked taken aback that his personal hero proved fallible and had, like all mortals, bones made of, well, bone, and not rubber, as he’d clearly supposed.

“Yeah, well, the incident forced me to take it easy for a while, and it got me thinking. You know, I’m sixty-five years old. I’ve been in this business for over forty years. Taught thousands and thousands of classes, did more workouts than any other human alive, and so I found myself wondering if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t time for me to take a break.”

“A break?” said Chase, looking shocked at this strange conceit. “What do you mean?”

“Retirement, Chase. Hang up my sequin spandex gym shorts and call it quits.”

“But… you can’t quit, Randy,” said Chase. “You’re an icon, a monument, a national treasure. As you always say yourself: we should practice fitness until the day we die!”

“Yeah, and of course it’s important to stay fit, but the kind of life I was leading wasn’t exactly conducive to good health. All this running around, traveling the globe, shooting videos, entertaining people—it’s worn me down, Chase. Anyway,” he said, waving a hand. “That’s not important. What is important is that I told my people that I was quitting. Or at least taking a year or so off to have a think. And that’s when all hell broke loose.”

“What do you mean?” asked Odelia.

“I’m not sure. All I know is that from the moment I said I was taking a well-deserved break, I started getting threatening letters in the mail, weird phone calls in the middle of the night, and a barrage of emails and private messages on my social media pages.”

“Saying what, exactly?” asked Chase.

“Wait, I’ll show you,” said the fitness man, and took out his phone. “Here—read this.”

Chase and Odelia leaned in, and read from Randy’s phone. It must have been a doozy, for I saw two jaws drop, and Odelia even clutch a shocked hand to her face in dismay.

“They’re all like that,” said Randy. “Dozens and dozens of them.”

“Randy Hancock we know where you live and you’re a dead man,” Chase read. “Randy Hancock prepare to die.”

“Nice, huh?” He took his phone and scrolled for a moment. “And then last night this came.” He placed down the phone and once more Chase and Odelia leaned in curiously.

“Randy Hancock better make your final arrangements for you will die in exactly five days,” Odelia read from the man’s phone.

“Look at the video,” said Randy, patting his fluffy frizzy-haired mane.

Odelia tapped the phone, and a video started playing. All I could hear was the sound, which was awful enough. Like the score of a horror movie, which it probably was.

“Oh, my God,” said Odelia.

“No way!” said Chase.

“What’s going on!” cried Dooley.

“So you see?” said Randy. “If you don’t help me I’ll be dead in exactly four days!”

Chapter 4

Vesta was happy for this opportunity to spend some time at the beach. When you live all your life in a beach town you’d think you spend every waking minute enjoying the surf, or lazing about on that same beach. The opposite is true. Vesta could count the number of times she’d been to the beach this year on the fingers of a single hand.

“Are you sure your turtle wants to go to the beach, Brutus?” she asked now as she put her foot down on the accelerator, her little red Peugeot hurtling through town.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Brutus. “In fact she can’t wait to take a dip in the ocean. Isn’t that right, Pinkie?”

The turtle probably said something, though it was hard to hear over the noise of the engine whining and complaining about the treatment Vesta was putting it through.

“What did it say?”

“She says she’s never been, but she’s heard a lot of good things!” Brutus shouted over the din.

“Never been? I thought turtles lived in the ocean?”

“She was born in a pond,” said Brutus. “Though I have no idea what pond she’s talking about. None of our neighbors have ponds, have they?”

“Nah, not that I’m aware of,” said Vesta as she overtook a particularly slow driver—a real turtle—then yanked the steering wheel abruptly to the right to get back to the correct lane as one does, almost causing the turtle to crash into her, the doofus. If there was one thing she hated it was bad drivers. “So didn’t Harriet want to come?” she asked. Brutus and Harriet were usually inseparable, and it surprised her to see them apart now.

“No, Harriet is trying out a new diet,” said Brutus.

Vesta darted a keen eye in the rearview mirror.“Had a fight again, huh? Should have known.”

“No fight,” said Brutus. “It’s just…” He sighed and said, “Can you keep a secret, Gran?”

“Does a dog like to lick its own ass? Course I can keep a secret. Come on—out with it.”

“Harriet is having problems with her eyesight.”

“Her eyesight, huh? Join the club!”

Brutus gave her a worried look.“You are wearing the right glasses, aren’t you, Gran? The ones you need to drive?”

“Absolutely,” she lied, having once again forgotten to take off her reading glasses and put on her regular ones. “So what does Harriet having trouble with her eyes have to do with you wanting to take your turtle to the beach?”

“She wants to go on a diet,” said Brutus. “A carrot diet. She figures it will clear up her eyesight once and for all. And she wants me to join her.” He directed a forlorn look at her. “But I don’t like carrots, Gran. I’m not a rabbit. I can’t live on carrots alone.”

“Nor should you,” Vesta grunted. “I’ll take Harriet to Vena tonight, don’t you worry.”

“Vena?” said Brutus as if she’d just told him he was about to die. “Please don’t.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Brutus. I’m taking her to the doctor and that’s all there is to it. Now tell your buddy that we’re nearly there and ask her if she’s got her bathing suit. This is not a nudist colony and they don’t like skinny-dippers around these parts.”

She chuckled lightly as Brutus related her message to the tiny turtle, and laughed loudly when both cat and turtle looked at her in surprise. Oh, how she loved pulling people’s legs—and cats and turtles, too!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Harriet had been searching around for her mate for a while now, and when she couldn’t find him had asked her human Marge Poole if she’d seen Brutus anywhere.

“No, sweetie,” said Marge, a fair-haired forty-something librarian. “Have you looked next door? Maybe he went to pay a visit to your friends.”

So Harriet had passed into the next backyard, the one belonging to Marge’s daughter Odelia, and had come upon a surprising scene: a man she’d never seen before was seated at the living room table with Chase and Odelia, and all three of them were dressed in the same type of outfit, though the unknown male was wearing the most outrageous outfit of all: sequin spandexshorts and a sequined colorful bodice. He also had a thick head of frizzy hair that really stood out from his head and a careworn expression on his face.

Max and Dooley were on the couch, listening to the conversation with rapt attention, so she walked up to them and asked,“What’s going on? Who is that funny-looking guy?”

“Randy Hancock,” said Max.

“He’s a fitness guru,” said Dooley. “And he’s about to die.”

“Oh, Dooley,” she said with an eyeroll. “You really should stop thinking everyone you meet is about to die.”

“No, but he’s really going to die,” said Dooley. “He said so himself. In exactly four days.”

“Of course he is,” she said with a shake of the head. “Have you guys seen Brutus? He seems to have vanished from the face of the earth.”

“Nope,” said Max. “Haven’t seen him.”

“Maybe he’s gone out for a walk?” Dooley said.

“No way,” said Harriet. “Brutus would never leave without telling me.” She frowned as she glanced over to the man talking to her humans. He did look sick, she thought, so maybe Dooley was right for a change. After all, even a broken clock gets it right twice a day. “Why is he here?” sheasked. “If he’s dying he should be in hospital, shouldn’t he?”

“He wants Odelia to stop him from dying,” said Dooley.

“I don’t get it,” said Harriet. “Odelia is not a doctor, so why ask her?”

“We don’t get it either,” said Max, looking distinctly frustrated. The big orange cat didn’t like to be kept in the dark, and it was obvious he had no idea what was going on.

“Look, if you see Brutus tell him that I’ve asked Marge to buy us a big bundle of carrots and our diet starts tonight without fail.”

“Carrots?” asked Dooley. “Why do you want to eat carrots? You’re not a rabbit.”

“For your information, carrots are very good for you,” she said prissily, sticking her nose in the air. “Full of vitamins and minerals and everything a healthy cat needs.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” said Max. “A healthy cat needs protein, and plenty of it, and since carrots don’t have protein you’re going to get sick if you go on this diet, Harriet.”

“Look, I know what I’m doing, all right? And if I were you, I’d ask Odelia to put you on the same diet as me.” She poked a paw in Max’s pudgy belly and grinned. “You could do with losing a couple of pounds, Maxie, and eating carrots will get you there.”

Now it was Max’s turn to get prissy. “I just went on a diet, and Odelia says I’m fine.”

“You went on a diet months ago. All those pounds you lost you’ve gained again, and a good few extra, too, so if you’re so worried about your health, why not simply join me and Brutus on our carrot diet?”

“Brutus is going on your diet, too?”

“Of course he is. Because contrary to you, Max, Brutus cares about his waistline.”

And with this parting shot, she stalked out.

She hadn’t told her friends about her deteriorating eyesight and she wasn’t planning to either. A couple of days eating nothing but carrots and she was sure she’d have twenty-twenty vision once more. Now if only she could locate her diet buddy…

Chapter 5

“I’m dying of curiosity,” I said.

Dooley gave me a startled look.“You’re dying?!”

“It’s just an expression, Dooley. I really want to know what’s going on—and no one is telling us anything!”

Odelia and Chase had disappeared upstairs with the fitness guru in tow, and we still had no idea what was happening.

“As far as I understand someone is trying to kill him,” said Dooley.

“That’s not completely true,” I said. “Someonesays he is going to die, but how—and why?”

“Probably cancer,” said Dooley.

I glanced at the table, where the man’s phone was still lying. Odelia had taught us how to operate a tablet computer, and had even bought us one, but lately Harriet had more or less monopolized the thing, watching her favorite sites and YouTube videos on the gadget. Still, there wasn’t a lot of difference between a tablet and a phone, right?

So when I heard our humans stumble about upstairs, still busy doing whatever it was they were doing up there, I decided to take my chances and satisfy my raging curiosity and hopped down from the couch, waddled over to the living room table, hopped up onto a chair, then onto the table to take a closer look at Randy Hancock’s phone.

Odelia doesn’t like it when we sit on top of the table. She says it’s unhygienic. I have no idea why she would think that, since the table usually looks pretty clean to me.

I’d arrived at my destination and was closing in on the fitness guru’s phone, when the thing suddenly started to ring out a cheerful tune! Something from the disco era.

I jumped up in surprise and promptly toppled from the table and to the floor below. Luckily I managed to—more or less gracefully—turn in midair and land on all fours then scamper off back to my couch, much embarrassed.

Moments later Randy came hurrying down the stairs and when he saw his phone went white as a sheet. He even recoiled at the sight of the thing, as if it had suddenly developed a set of razor-sharp teeth.

“Randy!” said Odelia, who’d followed the fitness man. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s them!” said Randy, gesturing to his phone. “Look at what they sent me!”

And then Odelia did look, and she, too, gasped in shock and reeled.

“What’s going on?!” I cried, beyond frustration now. “What’s the message? What’s in that video? What’s happening!”

But of course Odelia blithely ignored me. She can’t very well go and blab to all and sundry that she belongs to that rare species of humans who can talk to their cats, and Randy, certainly, probably wasn’t in the frame of mind to take this news well. The man was under a great deal of stress already, after all, and didn’t need the added aggravation.

“Probably his doctor,” said Dooley. “Sending him his latest prognosis. The cancer must have spread, Max.” My friend shook his head sadly. “I don’t think he has four days. Four hours, maybe. Or four minutes.”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said with a sigh as I sank back down on my couch. Looked like I’d have to practice the most difficult thing in the world for a cat: patience!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

“Vesta! Fancy meeting you here!” cried Scarlett Canyon when she caught sight of her friend Vesta Muffin. Scarlett had just spread out her beach towel and was smearing her bronzed skin with a thick layer of sunscreen. She was the same age as Vesta, but looked a decade younger. Good genes, Vesta liked to say, and not having had to raise two kids.

“I’m taking my cat and his pet turtle to the beach,” Vesta announced as she glanced around.

“Of course you are,” said Scarlett with a grin. Wherever Vesta was, her cats were usually not far behind. She caught Vesta staring at her. “What?”

“You’re not going to sit there dressed like that, are you?”

“Dressed like what?” asked Scarlett, glancing down at herself. She was wearing a minuscule bikini, that barely held her sizable assets in place, and an equally tiny thong.

“You’re practically naked!” said Vesta, who was dressed in her usual tracksuit and sensible white sneakers.

“We’re at the beach, Vesta,” she pointed out. “The whole idea is to get a tan.” She gestured to her friend’s outfit. “You’re not seriously going to keep that on, are you?”

“Of course I’m going to keep my clothes on,” said Vesta. “It’s dangerous to expose your skin to those toxic sun rays, or didn’t you know?”

“Oh, puh-lease. I’m using sunscreen so I’m perfectly fine. It’s you who’s not going to be fine in that outfit. You’ll boil to death!”

“I’m okay,” said Vesta as she took a seat right next to her friend and watched her cat and the turtle in question toddle off toward the ocean.

“Take that off,” said Scarlett, who hated to see her friend dressed as if she was ready to fly to the North Pole, and started tugging at Vesta’s vest.

“Leave it!” said Vesta, slapping her hands away.

“Give that skin of yours some air, woman!”

“My skin is fine! It’s your skin you should be worried about. You look like a crocodile with that leathery skin of yours!”

“I do not!”

“Yeah, you do. You’re too tan.”

“There’s no such thing as too tan.”

“You’ll get skin cancer if you’re not careful.”

“And you’ll get vitamin D deficiency.”

For a moment, both women sat side by side, a companionable silence hanging between them. They might have turned bickering into an Olympic sport, but they’d been best friends for a long time, except for the fifteen years they fought tooth and nail after Vesta caught Scarlett doing the horizontal mambo on her kitchen table with Vesta’s husband.

“So are we on for patrol night?” asked Scarlett, having finally finished lathering up her right boob and now starting on her left one. She’d probably need a second bottle soon.

“Oh, yeah,” said Vesta. “Ready and raring to go.”

“Good. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“It’s about Wilbur.”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s got the hots for you, Vesta.”

Her friend glanced over, her eyebrows shooting up into her white fringe.“What?!”

“The man can’t stop talking about you. Says he’s got butterflies in his tummy every time he lays eyes on you. I’m telling you, the man is in love.”

Vesta’s jaw had dropped and her dentures would have fallen out if Scarlett hadn’t gently placed a finger on said jaw and pushed it back into position.

“Wilbur Vickery in love with me. Well, what do you know?”

“I told him to make a move on you, but he’s too chicken.”

Vesta smiled before herself for a moment, then said,“Wilbur might be something of a jackass sometimes, but he does own his own business so he’s got that going for him.” But then she shook her head. “Nah. I’m too old for that kind of tomfoolery.”

“You’re my age!”

“You’re too old, too!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Scarlett, I’m not getting involved with Wilbur, or any man for that matter. Men of Wilbur’s age aren’t looking for a wife, they’re looking for a nurse, and I’m not doing it.”

“Oh, just give him a chance. Wilbur might not look like much, but I’ll bet he’ll surprise you.”

“Oh, he’ll surprise me, all right.”

“Pleasantly!”

“Mh,” said Vesta, her face having taken on that mulish look that Scarlett knew so well.

She smiled.“He says he thinks you’re one of the smartest women he knows.”

Vesta looked up with a frown.“He said that?”

“Sure! Men confide in me, Vesta. They always have. I don’t know what it is about me, but they like to tell me all of their secrets. Or in Wilbur’s case his heart’s desires.”

“I don’t know,” said Vesta, wavering.

“Oh, go on. One date. And if you don’t like it, you tell him and that’s it.”

“Mh.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Maybe.”

“Yesss!” she said, pumping the air with her fist.

Just then, two elderly men walked over, and one of them proceeded to produce a wolf whistle.

Scarlett simpered a little, but Vesta’s dark scowl quickly sent them skedaddling.

“Now that’s exactly what you shouldn’t do,” said Scarlett.

“What?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Come on. Take off that jacket.”

“I don’t wanna!”

“You’re boiling!”

“I’m not! In fact I’m cold.”

But Scarlett had already taken hold of the zipper and was yanking it down. Moments later she managed to divest her friend not only of her tracksuit jacket but also of the pants, and lo and behold: Vesta was wearing a bathing suit underneath. Scarlett grinned.

“I knew it!”

“Oh, shut up,” Vesta grumbled, but she was smiling when she said it, and when the same two guys came by again, this time licking ice cream cones, she didn’t even glower.

Yep. There was hope for Vesta still.

Chapter 6

Brutus stood gazing out across the vast expanse of water, and wondered where it all came from. So much water—who had put it there? But instead of bothering his new friend with these existential questions, he simply said, “Well, it was sure nice to meet you, Pinkie. I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

For a moment, Pinkie didn’t speak, then she said, “The thing is, Brutus, that there are many more of my friends in the exact same situation I was.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll bet this ocean is full of turtles. And you’re about to meet them all.”

“No, I mean back at the pond. I wasn’t the only turtle in that pond, if that’s what you thought.”

Brutus hadn’t thought anything about the pond. Now that he did, he pictured a nice duck pond with ducks and fishes and nice little turtles like Pinkie. “Yeah, I’ll bet that must have been nice,” he said vaguely. To be honest he wasn’t a big fan of ponds. He’d once fallen into one and had had to befished out by Chase. Not his finest hour.

“It was nice, in a way,” Pinkie agreed, “but not nice in another sense.”

Brutus blinked. These philosophical discussions were a little too deep for him.“Uh-huh,” he said therefore, wondering what was taking so long. If he were a turtle he’d have jumped into that ocean the moment he’d taken his first sniff of that briny ocean air. Then again, he was a cat, and not all that fond of water, so what did he know?

“I left my friends behind, Brutus, when I escaped that pond, and now I’m starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I should go back and save them, too.”

“Oh, you do, do you? Very noble of you, Pinkie.”

Brutus glanced behind him, and saw that Gran and Scarlett were still there. Gran had taken off her clothes for some reason, and so had Scarlett. Humans. So unpredictable.

“Do you want to help me, Brutus?” now asked Pinkie, giving him a hopeful look with those beady little eyes of hers.

He stared at the tiny turtle.“Help you? Help you with what?” He thought he had helped the turtle, by taking her to the beach. Apparently it wasn’t enough. Maybe she wanted to go to the country club next? Or skiing in Aspen? Brutus didn’t know much about turtles, and what they did or didn’t like to do.

“Free my friends, of course,” said Pinkie. “I’ll never really be free while my friends are still stuck back there, prisoners of that awful pond.”

Brutus frowned.“I don’t get it. One minute the pond was nice and now all of a sudden it’s awful? Make up your mind, Pinkie, and stick to it is my advice.”

“It was nice because my friends were there, but it was an awful experience to be locked up in there.”

“Locked up? In a pond?”

“You’ll see what I mean once we get there. So will you help me, Brutus? I’ve got no one else I can ask, and you’re so big and strong…”

Brutus swelled a little.“I guess when you put it that way, maybe I will help you.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret it, Brutus. The joy you feel when you do a good deed will make you forget all about that carrot diet your girlfriend put you on.”

And… Brutus’s good mood went straight out the window again. The thought of eating carrots had that effect on him. He sighed. “Let’s just get your buddies out of that pond, shall we?” And hopefully Vena would be able to talk some sense into Harriet. Though when she found out her boyfriend hadbeen blabbing about her eye thing, there would probably be hell to pay.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

Fifi was sniffing at a tree, wondering when Rufus, her owner’s neighbor’s sheepdog, had last dropped by, when she suddenly saw a man with a lot of frizzy hair grab a bulky suitcase from his car, quickly look left and right, then hurry into Odelia Poole’s house.

She knew exactly who the man was, as Dooley had told her all about him, and she was excited now to catch her first glimpse of Odelia’s celebrity guest. But then she picked up the scent of Marcus, the German Shepherd from down the street, and she forgot all about the incident. And when moments later Kurt Mayfield, her human, gave her leash a little yank, she obediently tripped along.

They were on their way to the local park, where Kurt liked to take his Yorkshire Terrier for her daily walks. Kurt didn’t mind. In fact he loved it. The retired music teacher didn’t get out much, and this gave him an excuse to interact with other dog owners.

“Hey, Jackie,” he said as they met one of his neighbors walking her Chihuahua.

Jackie gave him a smile. A widow, she and Kurt had developed a warm friendship, and never failed to find a topic of conversation: the behavior of their little balls of fur.

Kurt let Fifi off her leash, and the tiny white doggie now sprinted along, happily panting and taking in the sights and sounds and, especially, the smells of the dog park.

Fifi had spotted Rufus, and saw that the big sheepdog’s owner Ted Trapper stood chatting with an old lady who owned a Dalmatian.

“Hey, Rufus,” said Fifi. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Rufus laughed his big, booming laugh.“Very funny, Fifi.”

The joke never got old.

“So did you hear about Brutus going missing?” asked Fifi, who loved gossiping about their neighbors as much as Rufus did.

“Missing? What do you mean, missing?”

“Harriet came over to ask me if I’d seen him, and when I told her I hadn’t, and asked her if she’d mislaid her boyfriend, she gave me a dirty look and took off. So what I think,” she said, continuing her exciting tale, “is that they had a fight, and now he’s gone and left her!”

“Impossible. Brutus would never leave Harriet. Those two are in love, Fifi.”

“If that is so, why did he take off? Tell me that, Rufus.”

“I have no idea,” said Rufus with a good-natured smile, “but I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“And then there’s the celebrity guest staying at Max’s place.”

“What celebrity guest?”

“Randy Hancock!”

“The fitness guy?”

“One and the same! He dropped by this morning, all atwitter, and now it looks like he’s going to be staying with them for a while. At least I saw him carry in a big suitcase just now, and Dooley told me that Odelia made an extra bed upstairs in the guest room.” She lowered her voice. “Dooley also told me that Randy Hancock is dying, Rufus. Dying!”

“Dying of what?”

“He doesn’t know! And neither does Max! So it must be pretty bad, and mysterious, if even Max hasn’t been able to find out what’s going on!” Her tail was wagging excitedly. So much news to share, and so little time! “Oh, and I saw a turtle this morning.”

“A turtle?”

“A turtle! Walking through the backyard. And when I asked what it thought it was doing, walking in MY backyard, eating MY grass, and breathing MY fresh morning air, it said it was just passing through. Passing through! Cheeky little bugger.”

“You lead a pretty exciting life, Fifi,” said Rufus with a smile.

“That, I certainly do, Rufus! So how about you? Any news to share?”

“Nothing much,” said Rufus, glancing over to his human, who still stood chatting with the old lady. “Ted got rehired by the same company where he used to work before.”

“Oh, that’s right. He quit his job, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he thought he’d won the lottery, but then it turned out that he didn’t, and so he had to beg his boss to get his old job back. Very humiliating.”

“Listen, I had this idea,” Fifi began, and paused when Rufus barked a booming laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Every time you get an idea, I know there’s trouble ahead.”

“What trouble? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Just tell me. What’s your big idea?”

“Well, you know how the cats always get together for cat choir, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Even though Rufus had never attended cat choir, he’d heard a lot about it. In fact all of Hampton Cove had. “So?”

“So why don’t we launch a new tradition and start a choir for dogs? Dogs like to sing, too, right? And we sure love to socialize.”

“But… how are we ever going to be able to get away?”

“Easy. We dig a hole under the fence. I’ve already dug my hole.” In fact Fifi had dug many holes. Kurt kept filling them up again, but that didn’t stop his dog from digging another one.

“Dig a hole,” Rufus said doubtfully.

“Sure! It’s easy! You know how to dig a hole, don’t you?”

“Of course I know how to dig a hole,” said Rufus. “What do you take me for? Every dog knows how to dig a hole. It’s what we do. But what if Ted or Marcie find out I’m gone?”

“They won’t find out. They’re asleep, and so is Kurt. And by the time we get back they’ll still be asleep—no harm done. So how about it?”

“I don’t know,” said Rufus. “Where would we meet?”

“At the park, where else?”

“But isn’t that where cat choir meets?”

“Who cares! The park is big enough, Rufus. We’ll simply gather at the other side of the park, far away from the cats.”

“You think?” asked Rufus, giving Fifi a look of uncertainty.

“Look, we have a right to sing as much as cats do, don’t you agree? Or do you want to be your human’s sweet pet all your life, and never set paw outside Harrington Street?”

Fifi could tell that the prospect of seeing something of the wide, wide world beyond Harrington Street clearly appealed to the big woolly dog, then finally Rufus’s furry face displayed a set look. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it. What time?”

“How about midnight?”

“Midnight it is,” said Rufus, and held up a big paw. Fifi placed her own tiny paw against it.

“Tonight’s the night,” she said. “The night we bust loose!”

Chapter 7

Odelia wasn’t entirely sure that inviting Randy Hancock to stay with them for the time being was a good idea, but she could hardly turn the man out again after what he’d told them now could she?

While Randy unpacked, she and Chase returned downstairs to discuss the matter.

“Did you see that video?” she said quietly. “Terrible, isn’t it? Who would do such a thing?”

“Yeah, pretty brutal stuff,” Chase agreed, also keeping his voice down lest Randy overhear them talking about his terrifying predicament.

“What do you think we should do?”

“I’ll get on his case straightaway.” He glanced down at the man’s phone. “I’m pretty sure there are ways to find out who’s been sending him these messages. Do you think Randy would mind if I take his phone?”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to be rid of the thing, at least until this is all over.”

“I’ll head into town tomorrow,” said Chase thoughtfully.

“NYPD?”

“Yeah. An old colleague of mine will know what to do with this.” The burly cop glanced up at the staircase. “Though I wonder why Randy didn’t go to them and came to us instead.” He directed a pointed look at his girlfriend. “Or you, to be specific.”

“I have no idea.” Odelia wasn’t exactly the world’s biggest expert on stalkers. But she hadn’t wanted to ask Randy more questions, as the man looked absolutely knackered. “Let’s give him some space,” she suggested. “We can talk again when he feels up to it.”