“I think they want to tell us something,” said Odelia.
“Yeah—that much I understood. But what?” He glanced back at me. “You know? Wouldn’t it be fun if we could understand what they are saying? I read about some professor who’s developing a machine that would translate cat language into plain English. If he ever manages to get that thing operational I’m going to get me one of those. Talk to my cats.”
I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to spend good money on some stupid machine. He just needed to talk to Odelia and she could tell him exactly what we were saying.
Soon we were leaving the town center, and for the first time I started to wonder where we were going. We were clearly not homeward bound. And when I saw Odelia’s expression of concern, I suddenly realized exactly where we were going: to the pound!
“You guys!” I hissed. “They’re taking us to the pound! Diego was right!”
“Oh, crap,” said Brutus. “I knew that creep wasn’t lying. We have to escape!”
“Odelia would never take us to the pound,” said Dooley. “Would she?”
“Where else could they be taking us?!” I cried.
We glanced up at the windows, but they were all rolled up. And when I tried the door handle, the stupid thing wouldn’t budge. We’d just have to escape the moment Chase stopped the car!
“We’ll escape into the woods,” Brutus said, already drawing up a plan of campaign. “If she’s still alive, we’ll simply join Clarice and ask her to teach us the ways of surviving in the wild.”
“I’ve never survived in the wild, you guys,” said Dooley. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Of course you can,” said Brutus. “It’s just a matter of… adjusting your taste.”
“No more Cat Snax,” I said, feeling even more dejected than before. “And no more of that delicious paté.”
“Hey,” said Brutus. “Cheer up, Max. If Stephen King and Dan Brown and JK Rowling are really out there, I’m sure they’ll have some great snacks to dispense. Maybe they’ll even adopt us. Give us a life of unparalleled pampering and luxury. Paté up the wazoo and maybe even a visit to the cat spa from time to time.”
“What’s the cat spa?” asked Dooley.
“It’s a place where cats go to relax,” Brutus explained. “I saw it on TV. They’ve got a playpen and a massage parlor and manicurists and hairstylists—the works. It’ll be fun.”
“But we won’t be together,” Dooley lamented.
“I don’t want to go and live with Dan Brown,” I said miserably. “I mean, I know I said before I wanted to star in a movie with Tom Hanks, but all I really want is to stay home with Odelia. Wake her up in the morning by sticking my nose into her armpit, help her with her articles, hang out in front of the TV and catch an episode of The Voice together…”
I was going to develop my theme further, but the car suddenly lurched off the road and came to a full stop in front of a large wooden gate, a man carrying what looked like a weapon of some kind giving us a penetrating scrutiny by sticking his head in the window.
“Hampton Cove PD, buddy,” Chase said, and showed the man his police badge.
The guy waved us through, and Chase took us along a long and winding driveway until a large house loomed up at the end of it, and he parked in the circular driveway, crushed gravel crunching underneath his tires.
“This is it, you guys!” I said. “Let’s make a run for it!”
“I don’t know,” said Brutus, studying the house. “It doesn’t look like a pound.”
“And how would you know what a pound looks like?”
“Well, not like this. Pounds usually look like the last place on earth you want to be seen in. This place? It looks like something the Kardashians would rent if they came to town.”
He was right. The house we’d arrived at was one of those large McMansions, with private pools and private Jacuzzis and private cinemas in the basement and stuff. We’d seen plenty of them in the course of our investigations and this one looked just like the others.
“We’re here,” said Odelia after Chase had exited the car and stood stretching. She then turned to us. “Look, I don’t know what Diego told you, but I have no intention of getting rid of you. When we get home I’m going to have a long talk with that cat. Secondly, I’m never going to take you guys to the pound. You’re my cats and you’ll always be my cats. Is that understood? Thirdly, we’re here because someone has tried to shoot Charlie Dieber this morning and we’re trying to figure out who did it. So do what you do best and mingle, all right? Try to talk to Dieber’s cats and dogs—of which I’m sure he’s got plenty—and find out what’s going on.” She shook her head as she shot us a look of gentle concern. “How could you possibly think I’d want to get rid of you? I love you guys so much.”
Without waiting for a reply, she quickly got out and allowed us to hop down to the ground before slamming the door shut.
Chapter 9
A sense of elation and warmth spread through my weary bones at Odelia’s little pep talk, and suddenly it was as if life returned to its full splendor. Once again the sun shone and the birds chirped and the cloud of doom and gloom that had hung over me like a pall lifted.
“I’m sorry for ever thinking you’d abandon me, Odelia,” I said as I fell into step beside my human.
“I would never abandon you, Max,” she said, but when Chase gave her an odd look, she clamped her lips together.
“You know?” he said. “I could swear that sometimes you can actually talk to those cats of yours. It’s the darndest thing.”
She laughed. “Talk to my cats? If only. I would love that.”
“Yeah. Me, too. Imagine the stuff they could tell us. For instance, they could talk to Dieber’s pets and tell us what the hell is going on. Find out if the Dieber’s got enemies—if people have made threats against his life and stuff.”
“Yeah. If Max and Dooley and Brutus could talk—imagine how they could help us.”
The three of us fell back. “We’re not being put out to pasture!” Brutus cried. Then he frowned. “I knew that cat was lying. He was trying to get into our heads. Psych us out!”
“Oh, he’s nasty,” I said. “Nasty and wily.”
“So he was lying?” asked Dooley.
“Yep!” said Brutus. “Our humans aren’t trying to get rid of us. Our humans love us! I’ll bet even that big lug Chase deeply cares—even though he can’t understand a meow we say.”
I felt as if I were suddenly walking on air, and as I filled my lungs to capacity, I said, “Let’s not disappoint Odelia. Let’s show her we’ve got her back—just like always.”
“What’s the mission?” asked Dooley. “Why are we here, exactly?”
“Someone is trying to kill Charlie Dieber and we need to find out who.”
“Who’s Charlie Dieber?”
“He’s that singer Odelia likes so much.”
Dooley thought for a moment, then his face lit up. “Oh, the one who sounds like a cricket with the flu.”
“That’s the one.”
While Chase and Odelia had walked up to the front of the house, the three of us had veered off course and were now making our way along a paved path to the back. When we arrived there, we found ourselves in a pool area, not unlike some of the other houses we’d visited in the course of our investigations. It reminded me of the house of John Paul George, the famous British pop star, and of the Kenspeckle place, the well-known reality show family. Just like at the Kenspeckles, a party was in full swing when we arrived at the back.
“Wow,” said Dooley, and I think he spoke for all of us.
Music pounded from the speakers as a few dozen people were lounging around the pool, several semi-naked young women playing some kind of ball game in the water and having a blast. People were drinking, laughing, dancing and generally whooping it up. And in the center of it all, I saw a heavily tattooed Charlie Dieber sucking from a very large bong.