“I’m sorry about this, Chase. My family is crazy.”
“That’s okay,” he said with a grin. “I’m not all that compos myself.”
He placed an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against his chest. Between the murder they had to solve and Max’s diet shenanigans and her grandmother’s Donna obsession, she was glad at least one person in her universe still had his feet on solid ground. And as she watched a red-faced Dad furiously cut up his credit cards, Gran looking on sadly, she had to laugh.
“That’s the spirit,” Chase murmured. “When you can’t beat the crazies, join them.” And he placed a tender kiss on her lips.
“Ouch,” she said, pulling back. “Bee sting.” Right on her bottom lip of all places. Gah.
“Didn’t you hear your grandmother? Your lip will look decades younger in the morning.”
“Oh, to hell with it,” she muttered, and kissed him right back.
Chapter 22
That night, I simply couldn’t hold it anymore. If I ate one more chunk of that diet crap I was going to scream. My stomach was grumbling and I was so hungry I thought I was going to die. The worst thing was that Odelia had put me on the scale that evening after she came home from dinner and I’d actually gained weight! How was that even possible?!
Of course she had her explanation ready. According to her it was because of that meatball I’d scarfed down, and that meatloaf I’d polished off at Mrs. Cranberry’s house. But I called bullshit on both accounts. How could a little bit of meat result in me gaining weight while I’d been starving all the rest of the day?
I roamed around the house, feeling restless and annoyed, and that’s when I discovered that Odelia had left the kitchen window open! So I climbed up onto the sink, careful not to put my paw in the garbage disposal unit, pushed the window open wider, and gracefully hopped down onto the sill and then to the plastic container right underneath it. Odelia uses it tocollect the garbage bags and it’s the perfect landing place for a big-boned cat like me. I know people are always saying how a cat always lands on its feet. Well, if you’re genetically predisposed to be on the more voluminous side, like me, it can be hard to accomplish that feat, especially when jumping down from higher surfaces.
I landed on the container with a heavy thump, and waited for a moment, making sure I hadn’t woken up Odelia. Then I jumped down to the patio and padded off, hoping Dooley still had some tasty morsels he wouldn’t mind sharing with his best friend.
Unfortunately, when I finally had slipped into the house next door, all the bowls were empty: Dooley’s bowl, Harriet’s bowl, and even Brutus’s bowl! How was that even possible?
I quickly made my way up the stairs, careful not to wake up anyone, and nudged open the door to Marge and Doctor Tex’s room. Sure enough, Brutus was asleep on Tex’s side of the bed and Harriet on Marge’s side. So I tiptoed into Gran’s bedroom, which was right down the hall, and found Dooley asleep at the foot of Gran’s bed.
“Psssst!” I said, giving Dooley a slight nudge.
“Hrrrmmbl…” he said in response, and just kept on sleeping.
“Dooley! Wake up!”
The beige cat opened one eye and then closed it again.“Hmmmmmm.”
So I hopped up onto the bed—conveniently a lot lower than Odelia’s—and kicked him off. I watched in wonder to see if he would magically right himself in midair and hit the floor on all fours. Unfortunately for Dooley he hit the floor with his head instead. It made a nice thunking sound as it did. Hollow. Just as I’d expected.
“What’s going on?” Dooley asked as he rubbed the point of impact.
“I’m going foraging,” I told him. “And I need my wingcat.”
He stared at me.“I can’t, Max. My head hurts for some reason.”
“Your head is fine. Let’s go.”
He rubbed the spot for a few beats more, obviously wondering what had happened, then decided to follow me out.“I was dreaming of Harriet,” he said. “She told me to use my dildo to reach her G-spot so I did, but then Brutus showed up and burned me with his V-steamer.”
“You shouldn’t read that kind of stuff before bed, Dooley. You should do like me and dream of steaks and prime ribs and sausages and meatballs and beef tenderloin and…” Well, you get the picture.
We left the house and set out for the great outdoors. I had no idea where we were going but I knew it had to be someplace where we would find food. Lots of food. Any food.
“Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley after a while.
“Where they have food,” I told him.
“And where is that?”
I thought hard, which was difficult as I was so hungry my mental capacity had become impaired. Honestly, how Odelia expected me to catch killers on an empty stomach was beyond me. And then I got it.“Why don’t we go check out Donna Bruce’s place?”
“Do you think they’ll have food there?”
“Well, they have those two mutts. And where there are mutts, there is always food.”
That’s one of those immutable facts of life, and one you would do well to remember. I know I do. Even at my most feeble, like now, when my survival instincts were kicking in, I still remembered that humans love dogs—even more than they love cats—and always make sure they’re well fed. What most humans don’t know is that cats can also eat dog food, especially when they’re on the verge of dying of starvation, like I was now.
“I don’t know, Max,” said Dooley. “Those dogs weren’t very nice to us the last time.”
“They’ll be fast asleep by now,” I promised him. “We’ll just sneak in and out. They won’t even know we were there.”
Dooley sighed.“Good thing you’re my best friend, Max. I would never do this for Brutus.”
“Do what?”
“Risk life and limb to get you some dog biscuits.”
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 d?tente, 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?”