“It’s funny,” said Marigold, “that you’re actually talking to your cat.”
“Oh, just an old habit,” said Odelia, feeling caught. “When I’m feeling nervous about a case, or just spitballing some theory, I like to ask Max, and pretend he gives me advice.”
“Just like Francis likes to talk to Jesus,” Marigold commented with a smile at her boyfriend.
“Marigold thinks you’re Jesus, Max,” said Dooley.
“I very much doubt that, Dooley,” I said.
“No, but she does.” He regarded me thoughtfully. “You don’t look like Jesus, though.”
“I know I don’t look like Jesus, Dooley.”
“No, but really you look nothing like him.”
“I know!” I turned to Odelia. “We have to hurry, Odelia. If we’re too late…”
“You better step on it,” said my human.
“You think she’s in danger?”
“I know she is,” said Odelia, giving me a glance of concern.
Apart from Dooley, Harriet and Brutus were also riding with us, and so was Shanille.
“How did you know, Max?” asked the latter now.
“Just a hunch,” I said, still not a hundred percent sure my hunch would play out this time. It was very much possible that I was completely off base again. Which meant I wasn’t just about to make a total fool of myself, but also of Odelia and Chase.
“But you must have had some clue,” Shanille insisted.
“Let’s just wait and see if Max’s theory pans out this time,” Brutus suggested. “Cause his previous attempt to solve this case was a total flop.”
“Poor Father Reilly,” said Harriet. “To think that you thought he would murder and bury his own daughter in an unmarked grave. Just look at the man. It’s obvious that he’s devastated.”
We all looked at the man, and he did look distinctly ill at ease. Though it was entirely possible that the prospect of being reunited with his daughter put him on edge, in light of their recent argument.
“When we find Angel I’m going to tell her, Francis,” said Marigold, patting the priest’s hand affectionately. “Or better yet: you tell her.”
“I will, Marigold,” Father Reilly assured his housekeeper, then gulped nervously, like a bullfrog who’s just swallowed a mosquito.
“It’s time, Francis.”
“I know.”
“In a sense this might be the best thing that happened to us. Angel will finally know the truth, and we’ll have a nice fall wedding, and Angel can be our bridesmaid.”
“Uh-huh,” said Francis, giving the impression of a man facing the firing squad now.
“Why is it, Max,” asked Dooley, who must have noticed the same thing, “that some men think of marriage as a terrible thing?”
“What are you talking about?” asked Shanille.
“Well, just look at Father Reilly. It’s clear that the prospect of getting married scares him to death.”
“Nonsense. He’s just worried about what we will find when we arrive there.”
“I think he’s more nervous about what will happen once he and his daughter are reunited.”
“Oh, Dooley, you’re way off base. Obviously he’ll be over the moon when he sees Angel and he can’t wait to tell her what he should have told her years and years ago.”
I wasn’t so sure, and frankly I thought that Dooley was onto something here.
But for now I was too nervous myself to bother inserting my own views into the conversation. I just hoped this time I was right and that my instincts hadn’t deserted me!
Soon we were veering off the main road and rocking down a meandering dirt road that led straight into the woods. It had only taken Chase a couple of phone calls to locate the place, and it seemed plausible enough. Moments later the car was bumping and grinding across the rutted road, the cop’s sturdy pickup handling the tree roots and potholes exceptionally well. We were deep in the woods now, and when I glanced back I saw that the three police cars following in our wake had trouble navigating this challenging track. Moments later the path finally cleared and before us a small cabinmaterialized, built probably forty or fifty years ago. It was a modest cabin, but looked spacious enough. A big pile of firewood sat stacked to one side, and three cars stood parked outside, a sign the place was inhabited.
Chase immediately pulled to a stop, then put his pickup in reverse until we were back in the woods, unseen by whoever was staying in that cabin. Behind us, the other cars also pulled over, and the small contingent got out, careful not to slam their doors and proceeding cautiously.
In complete silence, with only the occasional sounds of crackling radios accentuating the peace and quiet, the officers all spread out, slowly circling the cabin. Uncle Alec, who was coordinating the operation, now joined us and said,“You’re up, Odelia.”
“Me? Are you sure?”
“They know you’re not a cop, and you’ll be able to keep them distracted while we move in.”
“Try to ascertain if Angel is in there,” said Chase.
“All right, I’ll give it a shot,” said Odelia. She glanced down at me and the rest of our feline squadron.
“We’ll be right behind you, Odelia,” I assured her.
She smiled.“Thanks, Max.” Then she took a deep breath. “Well, let’s do this, shall we?”
And so we moved in the direction of the cabin—single file. Arriving there, Odelia knocked on the door, and moments later it opened to a crack, two eyes taking us in.
“What do you want?” the owner of those eyes asked, not all that friendly.
“I’m sorry, but I seem to have gotten lost. Could I please use your phone?”
There was a moment’s silence, then the person said, “Wait here.” And abruptly closed the door again.
“He didn’t look happy,” said Brutus with a low chuckle.
When nothing seemed to happen, Odelia decided to give the door another knock. This time nobody showed up to open it, though, so I said,“Let’s take a look through the windows. See if we can’t find Angel.”
And so while Odelia patiently waited to be let into the cabin, we circled the modest dwelling, Dooley and myself tackling it from the right and Brutus, Harriet and Shanille from the left. This two-pronged attack would allow us to cover all the windows, according to my calculations. And when I hopped up onto the first windowsill and glanced in, I saw that a number of people dressed in black stood conferring in what looked like the main room.
“What do you see, Max?” asked Dooley, who’d remained on the ground.
I hopped down again, and said,“Let’s try the next window.”
This time we both hopped up to take a peek inside, and found ourselves looking into a smaller room, where a lone woman was nervously pacing the floor. I immediately recognized her from the pictures we’d seen as… Angel Church!
“She’s still alive, Max!” said Dooley happily. “The aliens didn’t kill her!”
Those aliens had looked remarkably human, so I told Dooley,“I think you’ll find that the kidnappers aren’t very alien at all, Dooley.”
“Oh?” he said, sounding disappointed. “So… no aliens?”
“No aliens,” I said decidedly.
Angel must have heard us, for she now approached the window and gave us a frantic wave. I gave her what I sincerely hoped was a reassuring wave in return, and said,“Hang tight, Angel. The cavalry is here to save you!”
All she could hear was me producing mewling sounds, of course, but she still seemed to draw strength and reassurance from my performance, for she gave us a watery smile, and then went right back to pacing the floor. I saw the remnants of breakfast scattered on the floor, and it looked as if a fight had taken place in there. At least she didn’t look hurt.
We hopped back down, and hurried to the front of the cabin, where Odelia was banging the door in a rhythmic fashion now, and yelling,“Hey! I need to use your phone! And, um—the bathroom, too!” She gave us a helpless shrug, and whispered. “I’m improvising here!”