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“We have a pool girl,” Roulston said.

“Of course you do. I’ll call in some more colleagues, and we’ll start the interviews.”

And so it went down. Chase called Uncle Alec, who called more of his people, and for the next two hours they went through the full roster of Charlie Dieber’s staff, which was even more extensive than Odelia had imagined. The guy clearly believed in living the good life.

At least there was coffee. Plenty of coffee. And then she settled in for the duration and assisted Chase in interviewing the two dozen people who might have issued the threat.

Chapter 14

I was singing my heart out, and finally starting to feel like myself again. It was cat choir night, and I was flanked by Dooley and Brutus as I took my place in the choir and joined in the fun. Shanille, our principal conductor, was swinging her paws just so, and for a moment I forgot all my troubles as I belted out cat choir tunes with reckless abandon.

Cat choir gathers in Hampton Cove Park and is one of my favorite social gatherings. Practically every Hampton Cove cat is a member, and it’s the place to be in town once the sun goes down. All around us, night had fallen, which never bothers us one bit, since, as you may or may not know, the feline eyesight is a great deal superior to the human eyesight.

The only minor issue marring this wonderful time for us were the humans who live around the park and who enjoy yelling abuse at us. They obviously weren’t fans of music.

And we were just launching into Uptown Girl—Billy Joel is a local and a fan favorite—when two new arrivals disturbed my equanimity. They were none other than Harriet and… Diego.

Harriet had always been a member of cat choir, but hadn’t attended ever since she started seeing Diego. Probably since Diego had never been invited. Who would invite him? Not me, and definitely not Brutus or Dooley.

When our moving rendition of the Billy Joel hit was done—basically all of us screeching as hard and as loud as we could, and Shanille trying to impose a measure of harmony, Diego clapped his paws. “Beautiful!” he exclaimed. “Wonderful! Such talent!”

Shanille seemed touched. “Why, thank you, Diego. I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “You invited this cat?”

“Of course I invited Diego,” said Shanille. “He’ll be a great admission to cat choir.”

“But… the first rule of cat choir is… you do not talk about cat choir!” said Brutus.

“Unless a rare talent like Diego turns up,” Shanille insisted.

The other cats murmured in agreement, and all around I could sense the mood shifting. They were all looking at Diego as if he was the second coming of Christ, and Brutus, Dooley and I were the Judases standing in the cat’s way. Even Shanille was giving us a look of disapproval. “Go easy on them, Shanille,” Diego said. “They’re good cats. Just… no talent.”

“What?!” I cried. I turned to Shanille. “You’re not listening to this nonsense, are you?”

“I’m sorry, Max. I talked this through with Diego, and I have to agree. The three of you lack the required talent to be in our choir. I always knew something was amiss, I just didn’t know what it was. It took Diego to figure out what was wrong with our sound. It’s you, Max. And Brutus and Dooley. You… well, I’m just going to say it—the three of you can’t sing.”

I gawked at the cat. “You can’t be serious.”

“What is she talking about, Max?” asked Dooley.

“She’s… kicking us out!”

“You can’t kick us out,” said Brutus. “I just became a member.”

“I’m afraid Diego is right. Cat choir should be a place for the enjoyment of music. Only cats with a musical bone in their bodies are welcome. And I’m afraid you three don’t have what it takes.” She sighed deeply. “It is with great regret, therefore, that I must ask you to leave.”

“You can’t do this,” I said. I pointed at Diego. “He’s evil!”

“This hurts me more than it hurts you, Max,” said Diego mournfully. “But we have to think of cat choir. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

“Here, here,” one cat called out.

“Well spoken, Diego!” cried another.

“Diego is right,” said Shanille. “He will take your place, and I’m sure he’ll do great.”

“Bye-bye, Max,” said Diego. “And don’t feel bad. We can’t all be as talented as me.”

“I’m going to get you for this,” Brutus growled as he took a menacing step in Diego’s direction. “I swear to God—”

“No violence, please, gentlecats,” said Shanille, holding up a conciliating paw. “And no blasphemy. If you have any respect for cat choir, you will accept the decision of the majority.”

I turned to the others. “You don’t want us gone, do you? I’ve known you guys forever!”

But they all gave me a stony-faced look. It was clear Diego had gotten to them, too. And then Diego cried, “And just like I promised, Cat Snax for everyone! My treat!”

“You bought them with Cat Snax,” I said, now truly in shock. “You bribed them.”

“To celebrate the arrival of this exciting new talent, Diego has indeed agreed to dispense a little treat amongst the members,” said Shanille, lifting her chin. “No bribery involved whatsoever. Merely a small token of his appreciation.”

Harriet gave us a look of commiseration, but then turned away. It was obvious which side she’d chosen in this escalating cat war.

“Come on, Max,” said Brutus. “We’re not welcome here anymore.”

And as we stalked off, Dooley said, “I liked cat choir. I really did.”

“Me too, buddy,” I said. “In fact I loved it.”

“You know?” asked Brutus. “You and I had some issues when I first arrived in town, Max. But never like this. Never like Diego.”

“No, never like Diego,” I agreed. “That cat is pure evil.”

“We have to talk to Clarice,” said Dooley. “She’s the only one who can save us.”

“At least Odelia is not selling us to the pound, you guys,” I said as we left the park and convened on the sidewalk, under a streetlamp, for an impromptu crisis meeting.

“She’s not?” asked Dooley.

“Nope. I talked to her and she said it’s all rubbish. She would never sell us or get rid of us. Diego has been talking through his hat. It’s all lies. Filthy lies to get our backs up.”

“Unless he’s right and Odelia is lying,” said Dooley.

“Who’s the more likely liar?” asked Brutus. “Diego or Odelia?”

Dooley thought about this for a moment but finally gave up. “Is that a trick question?”

“Diego, of course!” Brutus cried. “Odelia wouldn’t lie to us. Would she, Max?”

“No, she would not,” I said, coming to my human’s defense. “She’s never let me down before, and she won’t now. She said she would talk to Diego, and I hope she does.”

“Fat lot of good that’ll do,” said Brutus, his skeptical nature shining through. “I mean, Diego is such a great con artist he’ll simply wrap her around his little finger again.” He pounded his paw with his other paw. “No, we need to fix this ourselves, you guys. Or, better yet,” he added, gesturing at Dooley, “talk to Clarice again. She will fix this for us.”

And so we set out to Charlie Dieber’s place again. It was a long hike, but since we didn’t have anything better to do, we accepted our fate with equanimity. The nocturnal trek soon soothed the bitter memory of Diego kicking us out of cat choir, and when we finally arrived at the large compound the Dieber occupied, the fresh ocean breeze and the relative quiet of the night had done its healing work and I was starting to feel a little better again.

We met Clarice out on the deck, where she sat gazing up at the full moon as it cast its pale light across the world. She looked forlorn, but that was probably just my imagination.