I gave him a warm smile. “I know, Dooley. And I’m glad you’re my friend.”
“I would do it for Harriet,” he continued musingly. “But only if she asked me. Once upon a time I would have done it without asking, but those days are definitely over.”
“Wow. Love doesn’t live there anymore, huh?”
“Where?” he asked, puzzled.
“It’s an expression. It means you’ve stopped loving Harriet.”
“I never loved Harriet,” he said annoyedly. “I liked Harriet a lot. There’s a difference.”
“Of course there is.”
We were trotting along the main road, cars passing us by, making great time, and I was actually starting to perk up a little. The prospect of digging into Rex and Rollo’s bowls and fishing out the best bits almost made me feel giddy. A woman like Donna, rich beyond compare, probably spent a fortune on dog food, reserving only the best and most expensive stuff for her beloved mutts. I just hoped they hadn’t eaten all of it.
“Do you think Harriet will ever break up with Brutus?” asked Dooley.
“Why? I thought you only ‘liked’ her?”
“I do. That’s why I feel it’s my duty to look out for her. And I don’t think Brutus is right for her, Max. I really don’t.”
“I think he is. Those two deserve each other,” I said. And if I sounded bitter that’s because I was. Harriet was trying to steal my thunder. Presenting herself as the prime sleuth in the Poole household. Well, I wasn’t having it. There was only one prime sleuth and that was me. At least when I was properly fed and my brain was working at full capacity.
“Brutus has changed,” Dooley admitted, still harping on the same theme. “He’s become more sedate. Less of a bully.”
“I told you. He’s henpecked now. Domesticated. He won’t give us any more trouble.”
“Do you really believe that, Max?”
“Yes, I do.” No, I didn’t. Bullies like Brutus never really change. Though we had reached some kind of understanding lately. A détente, like the US and the USSR had in Cold War days.
“Tell me something, Max.”
I grunted, hoping he’d finally change the subject. All this talk of Harriet and Brutus was getting on my nerves. “What?”
“When Harriet kissed you, what did it feel like?”
“Wet.”
“Did you feel butterflies fluttering around in your tummy? A choir of angels singing in the sky? The scent of blossoms filling your nostrils? A feeling that all was well with the world?”
“I felt an urge to slap her, if that’s what you mean.”
He gave me a dark scowl. Obviously that wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for.
Lucky for me we’d finally reached the Donna Bruce place. All was dark, which was a good sign. I just hoped Rex and Rollo would prove as dumb as they looked and wouldn’t chase two innocent cats trying to steal their food after hours. We approached with stealth and bated breath, and walked around the back, just like that morning. The pool area was deserted, and there was no sign of the two hyped-up poodles.
“Looks promising,” I whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Dooley whispered back.
Some questions are just too dumb to dignify with a response so I didn’t respond. Instead, I padded up to the back door but found it locked. Obviously. And thus the tedious task of finding an access point began. I finally found a ground floor window that was ajar and attempted to get in that way. Unfortunately, because of my big bones, I didn’t fit. So I told Dooley to give it a try. It was a tight fit but he managed. Once he was inside, he whispered, “What do I do now?”
“Now you go in search of food and bring it to me,” I instructed my feeble-minded friend.
He gave me two claws up and disappeared from sight. I waited patiently for his return, all the while trying to ignore my rumbling stomach. I’d never known hunger before, and now I understood what all the hungry animals in the world must experience on a daily basis. It wasn’t a lot of fun.
And I’d just wandered off in the direction of the pool, when I caught movement inside the house. I walked up to the glass doors and peeked inside. One of the many advantages us felines have over humans is that we can see in the dark. And what I saw in the dark was… Donna Bruce!
I staggered back in shock and horror. What the... After gathering my courage, I approached the window once more. And sure enough, Donna Bruce was walking around inside, dressed in a white nightgown, carrying some kind of smoking contraption in her hands and flitting to and fro as she waved the smoky thing along the walls, moved it past the furniture, and generally seemed to be performing some kind of strange ritual.
I’d never seen a dead person walking around before, so I had my face glued to the glass all the while. Now that I was over my first reaction of fear, the phenomenon was kinda fascinating. So this was what a ghost looked like, huh? Cool!
Then she disappeared from sight and the show was over.
Lost in thought, I moved back to where I’d left a Dooley eager to find food for me. What I found was a Dooley scared stiff.
“I saw a ghost!” he cried.
“Me too. Where’s my food?”
“I saw the ghost of Donna Bruce!”
“I know. So where’s my food?”
“She’s dead and she’s still walking around!”
“My food, Dooley!”
He stared at me, not comprehending. Then he got it. “Oh, there is no food. I think they moved the dogs. There’s no sign of Rex and Rollo. But I saw the ghost of Donna Bruce!”
Crap. I didn’t know much about ghosts, but what I did know was that they didn’t eat. So we’d come all this way for nothing? Crappity crap! But then it dawned on me. If I told Odelia we’d seen the ghost of Donna Bruce she might be so happy she gave me some Cat Snax!
And as Dooley and I began the long trek back to home and hearth, that thought was the only thing that kept me going. That and the notion that we’d finally bested Harriet at the sleuthing thing. Cause if that really was Donna’s ghost, she’d be able to tell us who killed her, wouldn’t she? Of course she would. Case closed! Cat Snax here I come!
Chapter 23
Odelia woke up from the scuffle of paws and the clicking of claws against the side of the bed. There were hushed voices and she knew what was going on. Max was trying to jump up on the bed, proving he wasn’t too fat, and Dooley was giving him a boost but failing to apply sufficient thrust to propel the overweight cat up and away.
She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was still dark out and she so did not want to get up. After the bee incident there had been a lot of shouting and recriminations being hurled about, and it had taken forever to calm down all parties and clear the house and garden of the last straggling bees. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.
“Pssst! Odelia!”
“Just lemme sleeeeep,” she murmured.
“Push harder, Dooley!”
“I’m pushing as hard as I can, Max!”
“Odelia! We’ve got news for you!”
“Tell me in the morning.”
“This can’t wait! We saw a ghost!”
“Max, I’m getting squished here.”
“That’s not possible. You’re just not pushing hard enough.”
“You’re too heavy!”
“No, I’m not. You’re just being lazy is all.”
There was the sound of a heavy object dropping to the floor and Dooley squealing in pain. Odelia sat up with a jerk. “Will you two cut it out already? I’m trying to get some sleep here.”
“Max sat on me!”
“I did not! You dropped me!”
With a loud groan of exasperation she switched on the light and peered over the edge of the bed. Max was sitting on top of Dooley’s face and Dooley did not seem happy about it.
“Max. Get off Dooley. Dooley, you should know better than to try and lift Max.”
“I know,” Dooley said once Max had shifted his butt. “But he insists it’s what friends do.”