“We thought maybe we could pass the coins under the door and drag them down in the elevator,” Marco said.
“But we still have to get someone on the inside! And how do we do that? Again, we were thinking Oscar, but how do we get those open?” Polo said, waving her arms at the windows.
“And again, bad back!” Marco squeaked.
Polo slumped against the table leg.“We have a lot of issues to work out.”
“Hold on,” Walt said, pacing back and forth in front of the Television. “Hold on.”
“Okay,” Butterbean said uncertainly.
Everyone watched as Walt stalked across the floor, head down, obviously deep in thought.
“Hold on,” Walt said again, even though nobody had said anything. The others kept watching.
“Hold on to what?” Butterbean said finally.
“I’ve got it.” Walt sat down on the carpet. “Problem solved. We can do this.”
“Wonderful,” Oscar said cautiously. “Mind telling us how?”
“I’ve got a guy,” Walt said. “He can help us. He can handle the inside work.”
“You’ve got a guy,” Oscar said.
“I’ve got a guy.” Walt lashed her tail in satisfaction.
Oscar opened his mouth and then shut it again. Butterbean cocked her head to the side.
“We’ll have to ask him, but if we present it the right way, I think he’ll do it,” Walt said confidently. “It’s perfect.”
Butterbean cocked her head even farther to the side.
“You’ve got a guy,” Oscar said again.
Walt nodded.
Butterbean erupted.
“YOU’VE GOT A GUY?” Butterbean lifted off the ground with every word. “WHO ARE YOU? You’ve got a guy! You’ve got a secret vent! You have computer skills! THERE ARE RATS AND YOU KNEW! It’s like I don’t even KNOW you anymore, Walt!”
“The dog has a point,” Oscar said dryly.
“Calm down, Bean,” Walt said. She’d never seen Butterbean get so worked up. The stress was obviously taking a toll.
“DON’T ‘BEAN’ ME!” Butterbean yelped. “YOU HAVE A SECRET LIFE.”
“Is it Bob?” Marco asked. “Is he your guy?”
Walt blinked.“Bob? No. Why would it be Bob?” The idea that she’d have a secret connection to Bob was more than a little disturbing. What kind of cat did they think she was?
“Just asking. We saw him through the grates. He LIVES here. In the building.” Marco’s eyes gleamed.
Walt made a face.“No, it’s not Bob. I didn’t even know he lived here.” She was going to have to make a note of that. Apparently, she didn’t know the building as well as she thought. “It’s a guy upstairs. He lives on eight.”
Butterbean gave a sputtering, weird bark.“You have a GUY on EIGHT? There’s no GUY on EIGHT. Except for Mr. Axe Body Spray. Is it him?” Little flecks of spit were flying out of her mouth as she barked.
“He’s on eight,” Walt said calmly, flexing her claws.
Butterbean stared at her for a minute, then turned her back and marched huffily to the door.“Then let’s go see him. Right now.” She tapped her feet impatiently.
“Butterbean, wait,” Oscar said. “We don’t know anything about this guy.”
“Trust me. He can get this done,” Walt said dismissively.
“But who is this person, Walt?” Oscar asked, snapping his beak a few times. “This all seems very strange.” He wasn’t going to lose control the same way Butterbean had, but Walt’s attitude was making him very uncomfortable. She was much more secretive than he had realized. It threw the whole heist situation into a new light. Was she a cat to be trusted?
Walt sighed and sat down.“Okay. Remember when I used to slip out to explore the building?”
Oscar nodded.“Mrs. Food was frantic that you’d get into the elevator.”
“Well, I did. And at one point I made some contacts. One contact. This is him.”
“And he is?” Oscar said, hopping closer to her. She seemed sincere, but this was a whole new side of Walt.
“They call him the Octopus.”
“Because it’s like he’s got eight arms?” Butterbean scoffed.
“Because he’s an octopus,” Walt said.
“Right,” Butterbean said. “And I’m a poodle.”
Walt stalked over to the door.“You want to meet him, Bean? Then fine, let’s go. If anyone can help us, he can. And if he can’t… well, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
Butterbean looked at Oscar. His shoulders sagged.“Report back what you find out. And please, try not to get caught.”
Butterbean nodded. Her tail started to quiver, but she suppressed the impulse to wag. She was going to get to the bottom of Walt’s secret life. But more importantly, she was going OUT. WITHOUT A LEASH.
“Bean!” A tiny whisper came from the direction of the aquarium.
Butterbean looked around. Polo was waving her arm and whispering at her in a really hissy, spitty kind of way.“BEAN!”
Butterbean gave Walt a chilly look.“I need a moment.” She trotted over to Polo. “What? Do you want to come? I guess we could do the tummy thing again.”
Polo shook her head.“Oh heck no. But if you’re going to eight… you know that weird empty apartment?”
Butterbean nodded.“With the pretzel smell?”
“That’s the one.” Polo looked around before drawing Butterbean aside. “We looked inside the grate,” she whispered. “Madison was there.”
Butterbean’s eyes widened. “Madison? The girl?”
“Yeah, and there’s something wrong there—I just know it. Maybe you could check it out? See what you can smell?” Polo looked uncomfortable. She didn’t want to interfere in Madison’s life, but she had a big feeling it was something important. “I’m… I’m worried.”
“She was acting suspicious on our walk, too,” Butterbean said, frowning. “I’ll see if I can find anything out.”
“Good,” Polo said. Madison had always been nice to her, giving her the button and all. She didn’t like the idea that there was something bad going on there.
“Butterbean?” Walt called from the doorway. “Let’s go.”
Butterbean gave Polo a significant look.“You can count on me.”
Walt and Butterbean sat in the shadows, waiting for an empty elevator. They’d already had to pass up four because of the people inside, and Butterbean was fed up.
“Next one, I’m just going. I don’t care if there’s somebody inside. I’m a resident. I’m entitled to use the elevator,” Butterbean muttered under her breath.
“Keep cool, Bean,” Walt said quietly, twitching her tail. Elevator waiting was an art. You had to lose yourself in the stillness of the empty hallway. Butterbean wasn’t very good at stillness.
The elevator dinged.“That’s it. I’m on this one. It’s mine,” Butterbean said, standing up.
“Sit down, Bean,” Walt said. She really hoped Butterbean wasn’t going to blow this. And barging into an occupied elevator? That would be the quickest way to blow it.
The elevator doors opened. An elderly lady wearing a neon track suit and headband was walking in place inside.
“Oh good. One of the power walkers. Coming, Walt?” Butterbean trotted into the elevator without a backward glance, stood up, and pressed the button for eight with her nose. She sat down quietly and looked up at Mrs. Power Walker, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth.
“Bean!” Walt meowed, slipping into the elevator just as the doors closed.
Mrs. Power Walker watched Butterbean warily but kept walking in place.“Um. Hello, doggie,” she said after a minute.
Butterbean gave a low woof.
“I don’t believe this,” Walt said, trying to make herself invisible in the corner of the elevator.
“Seventh floor,” the elevator voice said as the doors opened.
Mrs. Power Walker gave Butterbean and Walt a quick wave and then power walked out of the elevator at top speed. She seemed disconcerted about something.
“Never do that again,” Walt said as the doors closed.
“What? It worked, right? Like she’ll say anything,” Butterbean said, grinning. She was glad it had been Mrs. Power Walker. She would never admit it to Walt, but if it had been someone else, like Mrs. Hates Dogs on six, she wouldn’t have tried it.