Chapter 3
“I’m getting very hot, Dooley,” I said.
As you may or may not know, cats don’t sweat, unless it’s through the soles of their paws. But since the available acreage for sweating is so limited we usually seek other ways of cooling our overheated bodies down, like placing ourselves on top of a cold surface, seeking shade, or drinking cooling liquids. But since none of those avenues were available to me, I was suffering.
“That means it’s working, Max,” said Dooley. “Just hang in there.”
I was frankly melting, so if that’s what Dooley meant when he said it was working he was probably right. But I was still stuck in that door, and if anything I had the feeling I was expanding, not shrinking.
“I think you’ve got this all wrong, Dooley,” I said. “I shouldn’t be heating up, I should be cooling down. Physical objects exposed to heat expand, and when exposed to cold, they contract. So you should be turning down the heat and turning up the AC full blast.”
He thought about this. “There’s something in that,” he admitted. “So what are you saying, Max? That we should turn this house into a freezer?”
“I think what I’m saying is that I’m about to expire,” I said, puffing some more. “And if you don’t turn off the heat you won’t even have to bother getting me out of this door. The county coroner will do it for you before arresting you for murder by central heating.”
“Just hang in there a little bit longer,” he encouraged me. “I’m sure it’s working. Have you tried to move again?”
“Yes, Dooley. What do you think I’ve been doing? I’m completely stuck!”
“Let me give it another try,” he said, and put his paws on my nose and pushed.
“Owowowow!” I said.
“What?” he asked, pausing to listen to my complaint.
“Retract your claws already, will you?!”
“Oops, sorry. Force of habit.” So he tried again, only this time without claws.
“It’s not working!” I cried as I wriggled to get some traction.
“Uncle Alec should have made that door a lot bigger,” said Dooley, giving up.
“Uncle Alec, Tex and Chase,” I said.
For a moment, we both lay there, staring at each other, then he said, “I’ve got it. Repeat after me, Max. ‘Every day, in every way, I’m getting thinner and thinner and thinner.’”
“Every day, in every way, I’m getting thinner and thinner and thinner,” I said.
“Now say it like you believe it!” he said, like a regular new age guru. “And try to visualize yourself getter thinner, too. The power of the mind, Max. It’s all about the power of the mind. I saw it on the Discovery Channel. This is what Olympic athletes do. Before they start their routine they visualize success. Picture it in their minds.”
“Every day, in every way…” I muttered. Just then, the door started moving. My eyes popped open. “It’s working!” I cried. “I’m not doing anything and my body is moving!”
Unfortunately it wasn’t me popping out of that door as if nudged by the invisible hand of Louise Hay, but someone actually opening the door. And since the door swung inwards, any moment now I could be squashed between door and kitchen wall.
Lucky for me Dooley had the presence of mind to yell, “Stop! You’re squishing Max!”
My progress towards the wall halted, and I heaved a sigh of extreme relief.
“Max!” said Odelia, for it was she. “What are you doing down there?”
“I’m making a study of the floor,” I said. “What do you think I’m doing? Your uncle, dad and boyfriend made this door much too small.”
“He got stuck again,” said Dooley.
“I knew it,” said Odelia, crouching down and placing her hands underneath my armpits. “I should never have fed you all of that soft food. I knew it would make you balloon up in size again.”
“I’m not a balloon!” I cried. “The door has shrunk since the last time I passed through.”
With expert hands she pulled, and finally the flap released its hold on me.
“You did it!” cried Dooley. “You saved him!”
“I don’t know about that,” said Odelia, “but at least he’s not stuck in the door anymore. How long have you been down there?”
“Oh, just a couple of minutes,” I said.
“Over an hour,” said Dooley.
“And why is it so hot in here?”
“That was my idea,” said Dooley. “I turned up to heat so Max would lose weight.”
“Dehydration, huh? Clever pussy,” said Odelia as she gave Dooley a pat on the head.
He looked like a million bucks while I merely gave him a dirty look. I was the one who’d practically sweat his entire body weight out through his paws and was now leaving soggy paw prints all across the kitchen floor. I made a beeline for my water bowl and began to drink with big, greedy gulps.
“We found a dead body, you guys,” said Odelia.
“A dead body?” I asked. “Where? Who? Why?”
“Well, a dead skeleton, to be more precise. And I want you to sniff around and try to figure out whose skeleton it might be, and how long it’s been stuck there.” She was rooting through a kitchen drawer in search of something. “So ask around, will you? I know the house next door used to belong to the Bakers, but I doubt they were the first owners. Besides, I don’t think the Bakers were capable of murder, or burying a body in their basement. My family have known the Bakers for a long time and they’re not killers.”
“Is this a new case, Odelia?” asked Dooley.
“Yes, a cold case,” she said.
I was in desperate need of a cold spot to sit, but I refrained from mentioning this.
“A cold case?” asked Dooley. “Because the body is cold, you mean?”
“No, because the case has probably been dropped by the police a long time ago, if it was ever a case at all. It could be that no one ever bothered to report this person missing, in which case we don’t even know who they might be.”
“Sounds very complicated,” I grumbled. I was in no mood to take on a case, cold or otherwise, having just suffered through such a harrowing and embarrassing ordeal.
“Well, you’re going to have to help me,” she said. “Ah, I’ve found it.” She picked what looked like an old diary from the kitchen drawer.
“What’s that, Odelia?” asked Dooley.
“My old diary. I remember once wanting to write a story about the history of this neighborhood, and doing some preliminary research, before Dan told me to drop the story.” She opened the old diary and sat down at the kitchen table. “Can you turn down that thermostat, Dooley? It’s like an oven in here.”
Dooley did as he was told, and Odelia frowned as she studied her notes.
“This entire block of houses was built in the early fifties,” she said. “One of the first neighborhoods of its kind ever to be built in this part of Hampton Cove, in fact.”
“Maybe Dan remembers who lived here in the fifties?” I suggested.
“Or Gran,” said Dooley. “She’s probably as old as the house. Or older.”
Odelia smiled. “Don’t let her hear you say that. Gran is very sensitive about her age. But you’re right. Gran may know something we don’t, and so may Dan.” She got up. “I’m going next door again. I want to be there when the coroner shows up to take that skeleton out of the wall. Meanwhile, I want you guys to go out there and find out anything you can about that house and its occupants. Anything that might help us figure out what happened.” And as she moved to the door, she added, “Oh, and Max? Please don’t try to fit through the pet door again. I’ll open the window. You can come and go that way.”