She slipped her feet into her slippers and tied the sash of her dressing gown around her and then slouched out of the room, her hair a mess, and her eyes puffy.
She didn’t care. If her neighbors wanted to snap pictures of her and post them on their Instagram or Facebook, they could go right ahead and do it.
She noticed how two of the cats didn’t have collars, so she took a couple of dog collars from her closet, part of a shipment destined for the animal shelter, and tied them to the cats’ necks. If they weren’t totally at ease with the procedure, she decided to ignore them. She couldn’t risk them running off. The Pooles would kill her if they did.
And so it was that ten minutes later Charlene Butterwick, Mayor of Hampton Cove, could be seen wandering around the neighborhood, walking four cats, who were plaintively meowing all the while, looking like something the cats dragged in—or out.
“Look,” said Mom, pointing in the direction of a pink-clad figure on the sidewalk. “It’s Charlene. Oh, and she’s walking our cats!”
Odelia stared at the lonely figure. “She looks terrible,” she said, and that was an understatement. Charlene’s hair was a mess, and she was wearing a pink housecoat that had seen better days, her feet stuck in a pair of old slippers, her eyes half closed.
The cats, meanwhile, looked distinctly unhappy and were tugging at their leashes.
“I don’t think she’s a cat person,” said Mom with a shake of the head.
“No, definitely not,” Odelia agreed.
She quickly parked the car and both women got out. They’d waited until now to go and fetch their cats, even though Odelia had wanted to drop by Charlene’s house the moment she’d learned Gran had ‘given away’ their cats to the Mayor. But Mom had convinced her that showing up on the woman’s doorstep in the middle of the night was a bad idea, so she’d decided to wait until morning.
At the crack of dawn she’d gotten up, met her mom in front of the house, and they’d set off on their cat rescue mission.
“I can’t believe Gran would give away our cats,” said Odelia for the umpteenth time.
“Yeah, of all the stunts she’s ever pulled this one takes the cake,” said Mom. “Charlene! Hi!” she said, waving at the Mayor.
“Oh, hiya, Marge,” said Charlene. “Odelia. Any news?” she asked eagerly.
“Nothing yet,” said Odelia. “But we’re working on it.” Or rather Chase was working on it. “Um, so I see you’ve got our cats there?”
Charlene glanced down, as if seeing the cats for the first time. “Oh, that’s right. Vesta dropped them off yesterday. She said they were a wedding gift, and the other two I found wandering in the street last night so I took them in.”
“The thing is, Charlene,” said Mom, “that my mother has an eccentric streak.”
“What she means is that Gran didn’t ask our permission to give away the cats,” Odelia specified.
“Oh,” said Charlene, and frowned as she processed this.
“Are you all right, honey?” asked Mom, her voice laced with concern. “You don’t look so hot.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” said Charlene, shaking her head as if trying to clear it. “I’ve been feeling really weird ever since Alec was taken. Not myself, if you know what I mean. Foggy in my mind.”
“Yeah, I can see you’re not yourself,” said Odelia. “Do you want us to take you to see my dad?”
“Your dad?” asked Charlene vaguely, her eyes glazing over and swaying like a reed in the breeze.
“We better put you in the car,” said Mom, and supported the Mayor before she toppled over. “Take her other arm, honey. That’s it. Nice and easy. There we go.”
And together both women escorted Charlene into Odelia’s pickup. The moment they had, the woman simply keeled over on the backseat and became unresponsive.
“Oh, dear,” said Mom. “I think she lost consciousness, honey.”
“Let’s take her to see Dad,” said Odelia, then gestured for her cats to jump into the car, and they didn’t hesitate one moment but all eagerly did as she suggested.
“Shouldn’t we lock up Charlene’s house or something?” asked Mom, darting a quick look at the Mayor’s residence.
“She locked it before she set out for our morning walk,” said Max.
“Yeah, she locked it up tight,” said Harriet, sounding distinctly unhappy.
A fly had managed to sneak into the car, and Odelia swatted at it now, before Max said, “Please don’t kill my friend. That’s Norm,” he explained to the stunned women. “Norm has been helping us find Uncle Alec.”
And as Odelia started the engine, she shared a look of concern with her mother. Talking cats was one thing, but a fly? Life was quickly becoming very interesting indeed.
Chapter 22
I was so happy to see my human again I would have jumped into her arms if she hadn’t been trying to steer her car through morning traffic.
“We thought we’d never escape,” I said eagerly.
“Yeah, Charlene is a nice person and all,” said Harriet, “but that house of hers is like a fortress. No way in or out!”
“She does have some nice meat to offer,” said Brutus, stressing one of the Mayor’s many positive points.
“She’s no Odelia, though,” said Dooley, pointing out the main negative aspect of the matter.
Odelia shot us a look of concern through the rearview mirror. “If I’d known Gran was going to give you away I would have stopped her. You know that, right?”
“Problem is that my mother never announces her crazy ideas before she sets them in motion,” Marge explained in an apologetic tone. “So I’m truly sorry you guys had to go through this, and I wish I could promise you it will never happen again, but I’m afraid I can’t.”
“But we are going to have a long talk with Gran and explain to her that our cats are not chattel. You’re part of the family, and you simply don’t give away family members as if they were a mere toy or gadget.”
Odelia sounded upset, and so did Marge, and I shouldn’t wonder. I did have one minor point to add to the conversation, though. “I don’t think she actually meant to give us away for good, though,” I said. “It’s entirely possible this was just a ruse on her part to smuggle us into Charlene’s house, along with the rest of the bugs.”
“Bugs? What bugs?” asked Marge, turning to face me. She was riding shotgun while her daughter gunned the engine and practically flew along the road.
“Gran planted a lot of bugs in Charlene’s house,” Dooley explained. “And she said she was going to plant more bugs in Charlene’s car and in her office, too.” He paused. “I asked if these bugs were dangerous but Gran said they weren’t.”
“But why?” asked Marge. “Why bug Charlene’s home and office?”
“And her car,” said Dooley. “Don’t forget about the car.”
Marge smiled as she patted my friend on the head. “I’m not forgetting, honey.”
“The thing is that Gran thinks that Charlene is somehow blackmailing Uncle Alec into marrying her,” I explained. “Which is why she felt the need to smuggle Dooley and myself into the house, and plant all of those bugs.”
Marge turned to face the front again, a set look on her face. “Can I kill her, Odelia?”
“If you want to risk life in prison,” said Odelia.
“Oh, I’m starting to think it’s worth it.”
For a moment, we rode on in silence, and then Norm said, “I think this is so cool, the way you guys can talk to your humans. I wish I could talk to my human.” He paused, then added, “If I had a human, that is.”
“Don’t flies have an owner?” asked Dooley, interested.
“No, I’m afraid we don’t,” said Norm. “We’re free as the proverbial bird.”