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“Um, I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I ventured.

“It’s a great idea!” Dooley said. “Just like a merry-go-round!” And before I could stop him, he’d darted up to the door and was streaking inside.

I shared a weary look with Brutus, and we both shook our heads.“Let’s just do this,” he grunted. Brutus went first, and I followed a close second. There was a momentary confusion when I had no idea if I’d missed my exit, but when I found myself in a plush-looking lobby, my claws digging into a nice high-pile burgundy carpet, I knew I was in the right place.

Dooley was already high-tailing it to the sweeping dual staircase, and lucky for us there weren’t many people in the lobby, so no one stepped on my tail or kicked me in the ribs. Yep, the life of a cat can be brutal.

We hopped up the stairs, making great time, and found ourselves on the third floor without incident. Now to find the right room—and get inside!

“So which room is it?” asked Brutus, seeming to have perked up. A little adventure had done him a world of good. I swear he was already starting to forget all about Harriet and Diego.

“According to Odelia, Stacie is staying in room three-twenty-seven,” I said, checking the numbers on the doors.

The carpeting in this hotel was very nice, and I couldn’t resist digging my claws in for a moment and kneading it, sending clumps of carpet flying all around. Brutus and Dooley did the same. What? You can’t fight instinct.

We arrived at Room 327 and plunked down on our haunches, staring at the closed door.

“Now what?” Brutus asked.

“Maybe we knock?” Dooley suggested.

“Yeah, why don’t we knock? She’ll let us in and maybe even give us a can of chicken liver,” Brutus sneered.

“Do you really think so?” Dooley asked excitedly. He likes chicken liver.

“Of course not, you dumb-ass!”

And just like that, the old Brutus was back.

Suddenly, the door to Room 326 opened and an older man came shuffling out, leaning on a walker. I gave Dooley a glance and he nodded. So we quickly scooted over and slipped inside.

“Hey, wait for me!” Brutus yelled.

I held the door for him and he moved inside cautiously, his ears up and his whiskers trembling, ready for action. Immediately, I moved to the window and walked out onto the balcony. Phew. We were in luck. The balconies connected. So I hopped up onto the balustrade and made the smooth jump to the next balcony, then down to the floor and I was in!

Dooley and Brutus followed my lead, and then the three of us sat staring at the sliding door to Stacie Roebuck’s room. Behind it, a very big, very hairy black dog sat staring at us, looking completely flabbergasted.

We’d found Puck.

Chapter 16

Puck stared at us. We stared at Puck. This was one of thoseThe Good, the Bad and the Ugly type of situations. I had no idea who I was in this constellation. Definitely not the ugly one, and definitely not the bad one either. I think I was Clint. Yeah, definitely Clint.

The dog barked once, and I saw that the window was open a crack. Not a big crack, mind you. Big enough for us cats to slip inside, but not big enough for Puck to join us on the balcony.

“Um… so now what?” Dooley asked.

“Yeah, how do we know this yapper isn’t homicidal?” Brutus asked.

I glanced down, and saw that I had a clear view of the pool down below. People were already prancing around, splashing in the pool. I wondered if Stacie was home. If she was, she might object to three cats entering her room. Then I had the bright idea of asking,“Is. Stacie. Home?”

I enunciated very clearly, cause I know from experience that dogs aren’t the smartest species.

The dog barked again, and I took it as a sign that Stacie was home. Then he became more eloquent.“She’s in bed. She had a rough day yesterday and she’s sleeping in.”

“Thanks for making that clear,” I said, still speaking slowly and clearly.

Puck frowned.“So why are you yelling, buddy?”

“I thought you might have trouble grasping my meaning.”

“I’m grasping your meaning just fine. There’s nothing wrong with my ears. Why don’t you come in?”

I hesitated. This could be a trap. Then again, no dog has ever been able to catch a cat. We’re built for speed, they’re built to lumber along on a leash.

I put one paw forward, and Dooley asked, panicked,“You’re not going in, are you, Max?”

“Why not? He doesn’t look dangerous to me.”

We stared at the dog, who gave us a dumb grin.“I know what this is,” he said. “Candid camera, right? Am I being punked? Huh? Is that what this is?”

“Yeah, he’s not dangerous,” Brutus decided, and beat me inside. I went in second, with Dooley a close third.

The room was nice, in a generic hotel sort of way. These places all look the same to me. It was a small room, nothing fancy. Niklaus definitely hadn’t splurged on his assistant’s travel budget. He probably stayed in the suite, while Stacie had to make do with the crumbs.

“So we’re investigating the murder of your human,” I said. “Niklaus?”

“Yeah, I know who my human is,” said Puck. “I mean, was.”

He didn’t look too broken up about the chef’s death. “So what do you think happened?” I asked.

“Not so fast, Max,” said Dooley. “You can’t just waltz in here and start asking a bunch of questions.” He nodded at Puck. “Hi, my name is Dooley, and these are Max and Brutus. We live with a woman named Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter investigating the murder of your human. And we’rehere to help her.”

“I’ve heard about you,” said Puck. “Your human can communicate with you, right?”

“Where did you hear that?” Brutus immediately asked.

“There was a cat at the restaurant Niklaus was doing, um… what was her name again? Oh, that’s right. Montserrat. She kinda belonged to one of the girls that worked there. She told me about this cat that talks to his human, and helps her solve murders and stuff. Max. That’s you, right?”

“Yeah, that is me,” I admitted, starting to swell a little with pride. So I was famous, huh? Cool.

“Did she also talk about me?” Dooley asked. “Cause we’re buds, Max and I. We solve all these murders together.”

“And don’t forget about me,” Brutus chimed in. “We’re a trio now.”

“Nah. She only mentioned Max. Said you were a big orange cat.”

“Blorange,” I was quick to correct him. “Yes, it’s a color,” I added before he could ask. “So what about Stacie? Do you think she killed Niklaus?”

“Max!” Dooley cried. “You can’t just spring a question like that on him! Can’t you see the dog is grieving?”

“I’m not grieving,” said Puck, his soft brown eyes mellow and bright. He’d plunked his big, hairy body down and was resting his head on his front paws. He had a funny-looking white fringe that hung over his eyes. The guy clearly needed a trim.

“You’re not?” Dooley asked. “But your human died.”

“Yeah, and I’m happy he did. He was a pretty lousy human. Stacie is a great person, and so much nicer to me than Niklaus ever was. Did you know he used to beat me? Yeah, that’s right. He was one of those humans. A nasty one.”

“That’s just terrible!” Dooley cried. “He beat you? How awful!”

“He treated Stacie pretty badly, too. Used to yell at her all the time. She used to cry a lot, but only when no one was watching. Except me. So I guess you could say we went through the same ordeal and came out the other end.”

“You have a shoulder to cry on and so does she,” Dooley said. “How moving.”

“Are you crying, little buddy?” asked Puck.

“No,” said Dooley in a strangled voice. “Just a speck of dust.”

“Don’t cry for us,” said Puck. “We’re great now. Stacie has already told me she plans to keep me, so I’m in dog heaven right now. Stacie is the best.”

“So…” I glanced at Dooley, wondering if now was the time to ask the question. But he was so busy wiping his eyes that he didn’t notice. I shrugged. “So did Stacie kill Niklaus?”