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“I don’t mind,” she said, a smile lighting up her face.

He knew those cats of hers meant the world to her, and he was glad he’d been there to save Brutus. If he’d been even one minute late in responding…

Oddly enough, a small flock of ducks now came floating up, quacking softly. They waddled onto the shore and approached Brutus, first hesitantly, then with more gusto. And then the weirdest thing happened: the ducks quacked, and Brutus meowed. Almost as if they were communicating! Crazy, of course, but then such was life down here in Hampton Cove. As close to a regular Garden of Eden as humanly possible, complete with talking animals. He shook off the thought. Murder and mayhem didn’t happen in the Garden of Eden, but they sure happened in this adopted town of his too often to be dismissed.

“You better go change,” said Alec, who’d also joined them. “Or else you’ll catch a cold. Here.” He shrugged off his light sports jacket and handed it to Chase. “Remove your shirt and put this on.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“That’s an order, Detective Kingsley,” said the Chief, warningly raising an eyebrow.

Grudgingly, he removed his shirt. As he did, there were gasps from their small audience, and women all along the shoreline gripped their smartphones even more intently than before.

Odelia grinned.“Careful, Chase. You don’t want to cause a scene.”

“Yeah, Chase,” Alec echoed. “Disturbing the peace. I’ll have to caution you.”

“You don’t caution the town hero who just saved a cat from drowning, boss,” said Chase, shrugging into his superior officer’s jacket. It was several sizes too big but it was warm and dry. “If you do, then you’ll cause a disturbance.”

Alec took in the swooning women.“I guess you’re right. At least take the man’s picture, Odelia.”

“Why?” asked Odelia, puzzled.

“For your story! For God’s sakes, woman. Are you a reporter or not? I can see the headline now. Hero Cop Saves Drowning Cat.” He clapped Chase on the shoulder. “This is the stuff of legend, son. You’re in the town annals now.”

“I’m just glad the little fellow is all right,” said Chase, giving Brutus a gentle stroke along his fur. Odelia had wrapped him up in her own sweater but he was still shivering violently. “Better take him to the vet,” he suggested, and he could have sworn that at the mention of the word ‘vet,’ all three cats started screaming bloody murder.

Chapter 10

While Chase was showing off his manly humps and bumps to an adoring crowd of ladies, I was recovering from the shock of watching one of my best friends almost end up in a watery grave.

“How are you, Brutus?” I asked.

He looked dazed, and nor did I wonder. If I’d been in his paws, I’d have looked dazed, too.

“I don’t think I’m an honorary duck,” he said finally.

“No, I could see that.”

“Good thing Chase was there to save you,” said Dooley.

We all looked up at the hero savior with admiration written all over our features. This wasn’t the first time Chase had had to save one of us. The last time it had been me, and Chase had rescued me from a ledge. I’d had an epiphany, then. Chase, with his long hair and masculine features, was nothing short of a come-again Jesus. Dooley actually believed he really was Jesus. The only thing missing was his sheep, but Chase had probably ditched his trusty barnyard animal for a Ford pickup truck. Even Jesus has to keep up with the times.

“The man is a miracle worker,” said Brutus reverently. “I didn’t believe you that time when you said he was Jesus, Dooley, but now I see you were right. He’s an amazing human.”

“And he’s your human,” I reminded Brutus.

“Not really. My real human is Chase’s mom, though now I consider your human my human.”

I know. It gets complicated. That’s because humans have a habit of passing their pets around like candy. A bad habit. Lucky for us Odelia is not like that. She’s already told us more than once that she’s our human for life, and I believe her. She’s one of those rare humans who keep their word, and who truly love their pets.

To my surprise, a small flock of ducks now waddled up onto shore and approached us. One duck hesitantly drew away from the pack.“When you said you could swim, I thought you were kidding,” said this duck. Judging from her feathers she was not only the spokesperson but also the leader of the pack. Though truth be told, I’m not an expert on ducks. “But you weren’t. You’re an amazing swimmer,” the duck continued.

“I am?” Brutus asked, surprised.

“Sure. The way you dove right to the hidden depths of this here pond of ours, and went in search of those tasty water bugs that like to lurk in the muck below…” She raised her eyes heavenward. “Amazing. How did you know that was where the best snacks were located?”

“I, um…”

“And you managed to snag two and haven’t even consumed them yet,” she said, gesturing with her beak to two water beetles happily frolicking on Brutus’s belly.

“Aargh!” he said, then quickly brushed them off with a flick of his paw.

They landed right in front of the duck, who stared from the beetles to Brutus.“May I, sir?” she asked, almost reverently.

“Sure. Go ahead. I, um, I’m not hungry.”

The duck gobbled up the beetles with a crunching sound—a horrible sight. “Thanks,” she said, after heaving a soft burp. “I appreciate it, Duck Burt.”

“Brutus,” Brutus corrected her.

“On behalf of our community,” said the duck, “I want to bid you welcome in our home, Duck Burt. Our pond is your pond. Our bugs are your bugs.” She then glanced at Dooley and I. “Are these your friends?”

“Yep. Max and Dooley. My best friends in all the world.”

The duck nodded in our direction.“You’re most welcome, too. Though the fat one should probably restrain himself. This is a small pond, and there are only so many bugs to go around.”

It took me a moment to realize she was referring to me. And I was just about to launch into a very vocal protest when I caught Brutus’s eye. ‘Don’t ruin this, Max,’ his expression said. ‘Just play along. Nice and easy.’

Grudgingly I buried a few choice comments about fat shaming.

“So did you happen to see what happened out there?” Brutus asked, now that the ice was broken and he’d officially been installed as an honorary duck.

“You mean the slaying? Yes, I did happen to see what happened,” said the duck, much to my surprise and not inconsiderable excitement.

“So?” asked Dooley, who couldn’t contain his glee. “Who did it?”

“Who did what?” asked the duck, looking Dooley up and down. She must have liked what she saw, for she smiled. Then again, nobody could ever accuse scrawny Dooley of eating more than his fill.

“Who murdered the girl?” I asked.

Her smile vanished.“Please tell the fat one to be more precise,” she said, much to Brutus’s glee, for he was trying in vain to suppress a giggle.

“A girl was murdered just now,” I said icily. “Her name was Dany Cooper. You said you saw what happened. So who was it? Who killed her?” I must have allowed some of my not inconsiderable resentment to suffuse my words, for she visibly stiffened.

“Duck Burt, perhaps you could tell your fat friend that ducks don’t respond well to mockery.”

“Mockery?” I cried, flapping my paws. “I’m not mocking you.”

“You are, sir,” said the duck haughtily. “I find your tone offensive.”

I clamped my jaws shut. I was starting to dislike this duck.

Brutus said,“Please forgive Max. He hasn’t had his breakfast this morning and he gets grumpy. So what can you tell us about the girl being murdered? Did you see the killer?”

The duck pursed her beak.“I did. I didn’t get a good look at his face, but it was definitely a human male. He was wearing a yellow parka and sunglasses and a Knicks cap. Then again, you know what it’s like. All humans look the same to us.”