Purrfect Secret

Chapter 42

That evening, a homey scene at Odelia’s masked a deeper, more horrible truth: a usurper was working away in the background, chipping away at the foundations that made ours such a warm nest. I would have warned Odelia, but she was so busy with her investigation, hunched over her laptop, a frown marring her lovely features, that I didn’t have the heart to disturb her.

I was on the couch, Dooley next to me, watching Jeopardy with Gran, while Harriet and Brutus were nowhere to be found, and neither, for that matter, was Milo.

I knew he couldn’t be far away, though, and the fact that he was closetroubled me, making it impossible to relax.

Now cats are generally vigilant creatures by nature, but I was actually ill at ease, my tummy churning and making strange noises, and that had never happened to me before.

“Where is Brutus, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t know.”

“Where is Harriet, Max?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is Milo, Max?”

“I don’t know!”

“No need to shout,” grumbled Dooley. “If you don’t know, just say so.”

I didn’t want to point out that I just had, so I bit my tongue.

“When is Gran going to fix the garden?” asked Dooley, who was in a questioning mood. It generally happened when Jeopardy was on. He probably thought he was Alex Trebek.

“I don’t know, Dooley,” I grumbled.

“There’s nothing to fix,” said Grandma. “The garden is fine just the way it is.”

We both directed a look at the disaster area Gran had reduced the garden to, and both decided it was better not to comment. The mausoleum project had apparently been abandoned, just like the Versailles project that preceded it. I didn’t mind. The piles of sand and the holes were wonderful to dig into and made a nice change from my litter box.

They also provided a great opportunity for Harriet and Brutus to hide when they went on one of their nookie sessions. Though judging from the distant and frankly disturbing way Brutus had behaved today, I had a feeling there wouldn’t be a lot of that going on tonight.

“Did I tell you guys that Tex and I reconciled?” asked Gran now. She was unusually chatty. Possibly because she’d managed to watch all of her soaps and was now fully caught up. Quitting her job had given her oodles of time to do so, and she’d made good use of it.

“That’s great,” said Dooley.

“Does this mean you’re moving back in with Marge and Tex?” I asked.

Dooley’s excitement diminished. He had his doubts about Chase moving in with Odelia, and the prospect of the two of them making lots of babies, which would inevitably push out Odelia’s cats. Even though I told him many times this was not the case, he still wasn’t too keen on the idea.

“Nah,” said Gran. “I like it here. Tex and I have made our peace—he finally apologized for kicking me out of his office and confessed that he needed me—but that doesn’t mean we have to live together. Frankly when two strong personalities like ours spend too much time together we inevitably clash. So it’s better if I stay with Odelia. I never crash with Odelia. She has one of those soft, yielding personalities that suit me a lot better.”

We both directed a curious look at Odelia, but she hadn’t been listening. Phew. It’s never nice to be called a ‘yielding’ personality, which is a fancy word for a pushover.

“So Tex actually apologized?” asked Dooley.

“Pretty much,” said Gran, shoving a Cheez Doodle into her mouth.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Odelia suddenly, and we all looked up.

“Did you finally get those winning numbers?” asked Gran.

“Just something to do with the case,” said Odelia, then abruptly got up. “I’m sorry, you guys. I need to pop out for a bit. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

And with these words she hurried out the door and was gone.

Gran shrugged. “Hormones,” she said knowingly. “They hit you when you least expect it.”