“Looks like your son’s new wife got a green thumb,” said Scarlett appreciatively.
“Mh,” said Gran, regarding the floral display with a critical eye. “Not enough perennials. Her garden will look terrible come wintertime.”
“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” said Scarlett. “She’s not the worst possible daughter-in-law, is she now? In fact I think I remember you telling me not all that long ago how lucky Alec was to have found himself such a lovely lady as his new life partner.”
“You must have misheard,” said Gran, sticking her nose in the air and traipsing up to the door. She pressed her finger on the buzzer and inside the clanging echoed through the house. Patiently we waited on the doorstep, not exactly eager to start our mission, but not all that un-eager either, as we looked forward to launching into our investigation.
“Great,” said Gran. “Nobody home. Let’s do this, buddy.”
And Dooley and I watched in confusion how our law-abiding human suddenly morphed into some kind of criminal mastermind and hopped it round the back, Dooley and myself in her wake, and then started messing around with the backdoor, applying what surely were illegal methods of gaining access!
“What is Gran doing, Max?” asked Dooley, as he watched on with surprise etched on his features.
“I think she’s trying to break into Charlene’s house,” I replied, equally surprised.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of scene a cat owner would want to subject their innocent pet to: Scarlett was holding up her phone, where a YouTube video was playing titled ‘Breaking and Entering for Dummies,’ while Vesta, her tongue sticking out of her mouth, was doing something with what looked like a toothpick and her Visa card.
“I can’t watch this, Max,” said Dooley, shaking his head.
“I know how you feel, Dooley,” I said, though I was experiencing exactly the opposite: I simply couldn’t look away from the scene!
“Can you play that last bit again?” asked Gran. “I think I missed something.”
“Here, let me try,” said Scarlett.
“No, it’s fine,” said Gran. “I can do this. I practiced at home and it worked just fine.”
“Every lock is different, though, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure your lock is different than this one.”
“It’s fine I’m telling you. I can do this. Just scroll back a couple of seconds.”
With a sigh, Scarlett returned to an earlier moment in the video where the man, who looked like an ex-con, had shown what a lock looked like if you possessed X-ray vision.
“Why don’t they just wait until Charlene gets home?” asked Dooley.
“I think they’re going to plant those bugs now,” I said. “They want to bug Charlene’s entire house, remember? And her office, her phone and her car, too.”
“This is not going to end well, Max.”
“I have a feeling you’re absolutely right, Dooley.” Though who was going to arrest two old ladies when the Chief of Police himself had been kidnapped? The police force was effectively leaderless right now, even if it didn’t know it yet.
“I think I heard a click,” said Gran, pressing her ear against the lock.
“What kind of click?” asked Scarlett.
“How should I know? A click. Didn’t he say something about a click?”
“Just let me try. You’re doing it all wrong.”
“No, I’m doing it exactly right!”
“He says first to insert that little metal thingy and then the other little metal thingy and wriggle!”
“I’m sure it’s just the other way around.”
“No, you’ve got it all wrong, Vesta, I’m telling you!”
“Get your hands away from me,” said Vesta, slapping Scarlett’s eager hands away.
“You have to put that there and that thing over there and then wiggle!”
“I’m wiggling my ass off here, all right? So if you just let me—”
And just when things were about to get physical, suddenly the door was opened and Charlene Butterwick appeared, looking at the two older ladies with a look of surprise.
“What’s going on?” asked the Mayor, visibly taken aback by this surprising scene.
“We were just trying to ascertain if your security measures are on point,” said Gran quickly, holding the tools of her burglarious trade behind her back where Scarlett equally quickly took them from her and dumped them into her purse. “Just one of the services your neighborhood watch likes to offer,” she added with a beaming smile.
“It’s what we do,” Scarlett added. “We burglar-proof people’s houses. Make sure they’re safe.”
Charlene still looked mildly suspicious, but finally nodded. “Thanks,” she said. “So I guess your daughter and granddaughter decided to tell you what happened, huh?”
“Oh, sure,” Gran lied. “They told us everything.”
“If only I’d asked you to do this sooner,” said Charlene as she stepped aside to invite both women into her home. “This could all probably have been prevented.”
“Sure, sure,” said Gran, and gestured for me and Dooley to follow her into the house. “And speaking of burglar-proofing your place, I’ve got the perfect gift for you, Charlene.”
“What is it?” asked Charlene, who still looked extremely pale and drawn.
“I’m offering you my two cats,” said Gran proudly, and pointed to Dooley and me, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat.
Charlene frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“Max and Dooley!” said Gran. “You can have them from now on. They’re two wonderful cats, house-trained and sweet-natured, and you can consider them an early wedding gift from me—”
“—and me!” Scarlett chimed in, displaying a wide smile that looked just a little unnatural, I thought. Or it could be that Scarlett never smiles, figuring it only adds to collagen loss and possible skin damage she can’t afford at her age.
Charlene still wasn’t fully on board, I could tell. “So… you’re offering me your cats. Why, exactly?”
“Because… I want to welcome you into the family, honey,” said Gran. “And what better way of welcoming you into the family than by offering you these two sweet fellas?”
“It’s a Poole family tradition,” Scarlett intimated, seeing how Gran was struggling and deciding to step in. “Whenever one of the Pooles gets married, cats exchange hands. It’s the way things have always been done—isn’t that right, Vesta?”
“Absolutely.”
Charlene glanced down at Dooley and me, who just sat there looking as sweet as we could. And house-trained, of course, which was a given.
“But… I’ve never owned a cat in my life,” said Charlene with a nervous little laugh. “I’m more of a dog person, really.”
“That’s all right,” said Gran, waving a magnanimous hand. “We all make mistakes. Now are you just going to stand there or are you going to give them a big welcome? I don’t hand my cats over to just anyone, you know. This is a big thing for me, Charlene.”
“Oh, no, of course, of course,” said Charlene, and crouched down next to me, then seemed at a loss at how exactly to proceed.
“Giving them a tickle behind the ears would be a good start,” said Gran censoriously.
So Charlene gave me a tickle behind the ears and I dutifully purred. It wasn’t a great tickle, mind you, but then cats can be great actors, so I just hammed it up a little: I dropped on the floor, rolled over like a dog, and even let her tickle my tummy.
Charlene smiled. “He’s pretty sweet, isn’t he?”
“Of course he is,” said Gran. “Now do the other one. Get a feel for them.”
And so Charlene repeated the procedure with Dooley, who mimicked my movements, and soon we were both lying on our backs for a tummy rub.
“I don’t know about you, Max,” said Dooley after a moment. “But I feel very silly.”
“I know, Dooley,” I said. “I feel very silly, too.”
“Thanks, Vesta,” said Charlene a little awkwardly. “Thank you so much.”
And suddenly she burst into tears!