“Jinx!”
“Jinx!”
Oscar frowned. This was no time for giggling. He cleared his throat. The jinxing stopped.“Walt, entrance and exit facilitation. Logistics.”
“Check.” Walt licked a paw.
“I’ll be monitoring the feeds and assisting as needed.” Oscar paused. “Check.” (He just wanted to say “check” too.)
Oscar patted the remote with one wing. The Strathmore apartment building had security cameras that residents could watch on the Television. Oscar had never been a fan—watching people come in and out of the building was not his idea of fun—but it was exactly what they needed to pull off a successful heist. If there was a stash of treasure hidden in the Strathmore, they would find it. And it would all be his.
Oscar cringed at himself. Theirs. Not his. Theirs.
“She’s coming,” Walt said from her post by the front door. “Polo? You know what to do.”
“This seems weird.” Polo laughed nervously, scurrying over to Butterbean. “Hope you’re not ticklish.”
Polo slicked her forehead and side fur down, then leaned up and grabbed a long piece of the hair on Butterbean’s underside. Luckily, since Butterbean was a short dog, it wasn’t that hard to do.
Polo hesitated.“Wait…”
“Do you need a boost?” Marco whispered.
“A boost? She’s not tall,” Polo scoffed.
“I know I’m short, okay?” Butterbean muttered. “Rub it in, why don’t you.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s not that. It’s… my button! I can’t leave my button!” Polo looked panicked.
“It’ll be fine. Nobody will take it,” Marco whispered, looking at the door. He could hear noises coming from the hallway.
“No, I need it!” Polo was sounding frantic. Marco had seen her that way before. The last time, she’d spent half the day digging in the corner of the aquarium, and all of their cedar chips had ended up in a dune on top of their food dish.
“But you can’t hold a button and hold on to Butterbean at the same time!” Walt said impatiently.
“Here,” Marco said. “How’s this?” He grabbed Polo’s red string and looped it through the hole in the button. Then he tied it quickly around Polo’s neck. “Okay now?”
“Thanks,” Polo sighed. “I just… I didn’t want to leave it.”
“I get it,” Marco said. “I feel the same way about my rat-head corn.”
“Great, problem solved, now get up there!” Walt said, eyes on the door.
Polo patted the sparkling button around her neck and then grabbed Butterbean’s fur again. In one quick motion, she pulled herself up so she was hanging under Butterbean’s tummy.
“I’ve… I’ve got a rat on me,” Butterbean whispered.
“It’s the plan, remember? You agreed to this. It’s what we have to do,” Walt said.
“Yes, but… I have a rat,” Butterbean said. “On me.”
“Don’t make any sudden moves. Your hair is kind of slippery,” Polo said from her position under Butterbean’s stomach.
“I condition,” Butterbean said.
“I can tell,” Polo said. “I just hope we can pull this off.” She hoisted herself up higher and grabbed on tighter with her feet.
A key turned in the lock.
“Showtime,” Walt said under her breath.
Walt had given them all a little acting advice, so they looked much more natural than they had the night before.
Butterbean was standing in the middle of the living room, positioning herself in a way that didn’t show off the rat on her tummy.
Marco was sprawled on top of a pile of cedar chips in the aquarium, doing his best to look like two rats.
Oscar was sitting on his perch reading the clean parts of yesterday’s paper.
Walt was sitting on the coffee table, licking her foot and watching the door. All in all, they were doing an admirable job of looking casual. (Except for Butterbean, that is. But they were hoping she just looked like she really needed to pee, and not like she had a rat suspended from her stomach.)
“Hey, guys.” The girl peered into the room. “Doing okay this morning?”
In her best impression of a regular house cat, Walt ignored her completely.
Oscar hopped on his perch and raked his beak against the bars of his cage. Butterbean wagged her tail enthusiastically.
“Hey!” Polo said in a muffled voice. “Watch it with the tail!”
“Sorry,” Butterbean whispered. She stopped wagging and let her tongue loll out of her mouth instead.
“How ’bout I take you out first and then check on the others, okay?” The girl clipped Butterbean’s leash onto her collar.
“Just as we planned,” Walt said softly. “You know what you have to do, Butterbean! Good luck, Polo!”
Butterbean waddled slowly to the door, trying her best to ignore the weird weight on her stomach.“Wow, you okay?” the girl asked. “Really need to go, huh?”
Butterbean attempted a smile, but just managed to look constipated.
The girl bent down to pet her and then frowned.“Hey, wait. What is—”
“Walt! Distraction!” Oscar said quickly.
Walt stopped licking her foot and started hacking up a hairball.
The girl stood up quickly as Walt convulsed on the edge of the coffee table.
“Um. You okay, cat? Walt?”
Walt’s hairball splatted onto the carpet.
“Okay, so all better now.” The girl looked grossed out. “I’ll take care of that when we get back. Come on, dog.” She tugged the leash and hurried Butterbean out into the hallway.
As the door swung shut behind them, Walt leaped to her feet. Sprinting across the room, she scooped up Butterbean’s rawhide chew and pushed it into the gap, preventing the door from closing completely. The girl didn’t notice.
“Bingo,” Walt said. “Tape, Oscar?”
Oscar flew into the kitchen and tore a piece of tape off the dispenser. Then he flew over to Walt, who carefully took it from his beak and taped it over the latch on the side of the door. They repeated the process until they were sure the latch was completely covered.“Better safe than sorry,” Oscar said.
After patting the tape in place to make sure it was secure, Walt batted the rawhide chew out of the way and let the door swing shut. Then she jumped up onto the handle and opened it again.
“Nice work,” Oscar said, flapping his wings happily. “And totally disgusting distraction, by the way.”
Walt grinned.
Part one of the plan was a success.
Outside at the elevator, Butterbean wasn’t feeling quite so optimistic. There was a weird new stain by the stairway door that she was just itching to investigate, but she didn’t think it was appropriate with a rat hanging from her tummy. Even a nice rat.
In fact, now that she thought about it, there were a couple of other things she wasn’t sure she could do with a rat hanging from her tummy. Two things, in fact. Two very important things.
“Polo,” Butterbean hissed. “What do we do about… you know.”
[Êàðòèíêà: img_16]
“What?” Polo said, trying to maintain her grip on Butterbean’s hair.
“YOU know,” Butterbean said again.
“I don’t,” Polo said.
“If you’re under there…” Butterbean said. “And I need to… you know.”
Polo didn’t say anything.
“I’m on a WALK, Polo.”
“OH!” Polo stopped adjusting her grip and just dangled. “We need to rethink this.”
“I don’t want to pee on you!” Butterbean said in a low wail.
“I appreciate that,” Polo said. “We need to figure this out fast.”
The original plan had been for Butterbean and Polo to go out for Butterbean’s usual walk, and when Butterbean smelled the mystery coin owner, Polo would drop down on the ground and investigate. But they hadn’t really considered the actual purpose of Butterbean’s morning walk. Until now.
For the first time in her life, Butterbean was glad the elevator in their building was so slow.
Polo tried to think.“Okay, so let’s be honest. It’s unlikely that you’ll smell the man outside of the building, right? I mean, you definitely found the coin in the lobby?”