“And all for a little bit of money,” said Scarlett. “So sad, right?”
“Not a little bit,” Charlene corrected her. “Last time I talked to the developers they mentioned some pretty big numbers. Too bad the deal fell through.”
“Maybe it’s all for the best,” said Marge, who looked happy and healthy again. “Money seems to bring out the worst in people, as we have all been able to witness firsthand.”
“Money would have bought me a nice new car,” grumbled Gran, who was picking at a piece of fish filet. “A nice Escalade for the watch.”
“How is your Gofundme going, Gran?” asked Odelia.
“Oh, don’t ask,” said Gran. “So far we only got one donation. Ten bucks. Ten bucks won’t buy me a new car.”
“If you want I can get you a good deal on a secondhand police cruiser,” said Uncle Alec.
“No, thanks,” said Gran. “The watch isn’t going to drive around in an old cop car. We’re going to stand on our own two feet, showing everyone we’re just as good at catching criminals as you cops are.”
“Suit yourself,” said Uncle Alec with a shrug, and squirted a goodish helping of tartar sauce on his steak.
Clarice, who was also lying on the porch swing, now yawned and said, “I think I’ll get going, you guys. All this hominess and coziness is making me antsy.”
“See ya, Clarice,” I said.
“Thanks again for saving our lives,” said Harriet.
Clarice held up a paw in response, then wandered off.
Rambo, who was lying at our feet, opened a lazy eye. “Oh, is Clarice going already?”
“Yeah, she’s got things to do and cats to see,” I said with a smile.
“If it hadn’t been for her instructions, I would never have gotten you out of that couch,” said Rambo.
Clarice had said she returned when she got a bad feeling about this whole Dudley business, and figured she might as well give Odelia another chance—which was very nice of her. And very… compassionate, which had become Harriet’s favorite new word.
“Look, I think we should suggest to Odelia that she adopt Clarice,” said Harriet now. “I mean, it’s the compassionate thing to do, right?”
See what I mean?
“Clarice will never do it,” said Brutus. “She’s an independent soul and doesn’t want to be tied down.”
“Maybe if we ask her nicely?”
“She won’t do it, I’m telling you.”
“Maybe if you ask her?”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because she likes you, Brutus. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
“I’m sure that’s all in your head, sweet peach.”
“No, it’s not. A cat knows these things.”
“Just your imagination.”
“Oh, Brutus, don’t you deny that you like her, too. I’ve seen how you look at her.”
“I don’t look at Clarice!” said Brutus with a light laugh.
“Yes, you do. Just admit it!”
“I’m not admitting anything!”
“Because it’s true!”
And as Harriet and Brutus jumped off the swing, to pursue their ‘compassionate’ conversation elsewhere, I heaved a sigh of relief. I like Harriet and Brutus, I really do, but sometimes a cat just wants to have a little peace and quiet.
And I’d just closed my eyes for a nap, when Dooley said, “Max?”
“Mh?”
“So Dudley wasn’t really Tex’s son, right?”
“No, he wasn’t. Just pretending to be his son so he could pocket those mall millions.”
“So… why did Tex believe he was his son?”
“Because Dudley claimed that one of Tex’s old girlfriends was his mother.” This was the reason Dudley had been going through Tex’s old photo albums: looking for an old girlfriend he could believably cast in the role of his mother. And the reason he tried to kill us was because Frank Butterwick had mentioned some of the rumors surrounding Odelia’s cats: that we acted as our human’s unofficial guards. So he figured he’d better get rid of us before we could cause him any trouble, just the way he tried to get rid of the entire Poole family, figuring those millions would end up in his pocket that way.
Okay, so Dudley was a killer—I never said he was a clever killer, though.
And of course he’d gotten rid of Charlene’s uncle because he was the only person in town who knew him under his real name. And he would have spoiled his big plan.
“So… maybe this so-called mom of Dudley—this Jaqlyn Checkers—really did get pregnant? And maybe she really did have a son or daughter whose dad is Tex?”
I looked up at this. “You really think so?”
Dooley shrugged. “Tex believed it. So something must have happened back then to make Dudley’s story so plausible.”
We both looked out across the backyard at Odelia’s dad, who now sat chatting happily with Chase about the barbecue course they were going to take together.
I shook my head. “I really hope no more kids come crawling out of the woodwork.”
“I’m just saying, Max.”
“I know, buddy. And maybe you’re right.”
“Humans are always full of surprises, aren’t they?”
“Oh, yes, they are.”
And as we both glanced at Odelia, we wondered how she would react if Tex’s real son suddenly showed up on our doorstep. I had a feeling she’d welcome him with open arms, because that’s the kind of person she is. That’s the kind of people all the Pooles are. And that’s probably why I like them so much.
They’re good people, and sometimes bad people try to take advantage of them. But that’s what they’ve got us for, right?
To keep an eye on them.
To be their watchcats.
Because watching out for our humans is what we do.
“Max?” asked Rambo.
“Mh?”
“I’m hungry.”
I smiled. “Of course you are.”
“Can you ask Odelia for more food?”
“Absolutely, buddy.”
In fact we don’t just watch out for our humans, we even watch out for our humans’ dogs. Now how weird is that?
“Thanks,” said Rambo when Odelia dropped a pork chop between his front paws.
She patted his head. “You know?” she said. “Maybe we’ll adopt you.”
Wait… “What?!”
“Chase is always going on about having a dog, so let’s adopt Rambo,” she said.
“I wouldn’t mind,” said Rambo with a casual shrug. “As long as the food’s good? Sure.”
Odelia must have noticed how Dooley and I were staring at her, absolutely flabbergasted, and she grinned. “Don’t look at me like that, you guys. It’ll be fun. And you like Rambo, don’t you? Sure you do.”
And with these words, she returned to her family, still grinning, and proving once and for all that humans don’t understand the first thing about cats. Nothing!
“Max?” said Dooley.
“Yes, Dooley?”
“Let’s elope.”
“Why not?” I said, and hopped down from that swing.
“We can live off our urine,” said Dooley as we walked off and left that treacherous and very uncompassionate Poole family behind. “Just like Gandhi. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy: you drink the pee, then you pee, then you drink the pee, then you pee, and then you drink the pee, and so on and so on.”
“That’s not a self-fulfilling prophecy, Dooley.”
“A pee-petuum mobile, then?”
“Oh, Dooley,” I said.
THE END
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Excerpt from Purrfect Fool (The Mysteries of Max 28)
Chapter One
It could have been the perfect nap. The nap to end all naps. Unfortunately there was one thing that detracted from absolute perfection. Or I should probably say one bug: a big, fat fly kept buzzing around my head, making it impossible to enjoy the full benefit of my slumber.