“That’s just something he does,” Mrs. Biscuit said, dabbing her nose with a tissue.
Biscuit jumped off the couch.“Sorry, just one of my dogly duties.”
“Wait, what? Sneeze inspections are a DOGLY DUTY?” Butterbean had never once inspected Mrs. Food’s nose after a sneeze.
“It’s not a requirement, Bean,” Walt said softly. She really didn’t want sneeze inspections to become a thing.
“But if it’s a DUTY—” Butterbean started.
“My PROBLEM, since you’re so concerned,” interrupted Biscuit as he trotted over, “is the INVADERS on the LOADING DOCK!” He jumped up onto the cushioned bench under the window. Butterbean’s eyes widened. It was like his feet were made of springs.
Biscuit pressed his face close to the glass, making more nose smears. Butterbean was surprised he could even see outside anymore.
“Oh no, here we go,” Mrs. Biscuit said, holding her breath.
“Invaders? That’s your problem?” Walt jumped up onto the bench and looked out of the window. “Oh come on, Biscuit. Seriously?”
“What?” Butterbean said, jumping up clumsily after them. She didn’t want to miss out on any invaders. Maybe she could do some therapy on them.
Walt rolled her eyes.“That’s the loading dock. Those invaders? They’re the loading dock rats. Are you seriously freaked out because of a couple of rats?”
“Our friend Wallace knows the loading dock rats,” Butterbean said, finally getting her footing. That bench was taller than it looked. “They’re not bad. Did you just notice them or something? Because I think they’ve always lived there.”
Biscuit made a face.“No, the loading dock rats aren’t freaking me out. I’ve lived here my whole life—you think I care about a couple of rats? No, this is something new. INVADERS. A lot of them.”
“Something new,” Walt said.
“I can hear them, every night. Scratching. Lots of them. And I can see their eyes. THOUSANDS OF GLOWING EYES. I hear them clawing at the walls. Trying to get in. I’VE GOT TO STOP THEM!”
“Calm down, okay?” Walt said, shooting a look at Mrs. Biscuit, who had started to wring her hands in agitation. “They’re not getting in. Nothing’s getting in.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Butterbean said. “Tell me about your mother. Take some deep cleansing breaths. Go to your happy place.”
Walt rolled her eyes.“This isn’t the time, Bean.” She looked at Biscuit. “Butterbean’s going to be a therapy dog.”
“Therapist,” Butterbean corrected.
“Whatever,” Walt said.
Biscuit leaned over and took some deep cleansing breaths. Then he nodded.“Better. That worked.”
From the couch, Mrs. Biscuit suddenly gave a brittle laugh.“I don’t suppose you rent those pets of yours out, do you? To keep mine quiet?” She gave another shrill laugh.
“Um, ha-ha,” Madison said, edging away slightly. “Sorry, that stinks.”
“You said it,” Mrs. Biscuit said.
Madison cleared her throat.“Well, thanks for letting us come over, but I guess I was wrong about playing. Maybe they just wanted to sniff? We should get going.”
“Shoot,” Walt said. “Biscuit, where’s a toy? We have to make this look good.”
Biscuit jumped off the bench and picked up a tube sock half hidden under the couch.“Here, tug on this sock. I love this sock. It’s the best toy ever.”
“Yes, socks are wonderful,” Butterbean agreed, jumping down and gingerly picking up the other end of the sock. “Walt has some compression socks,” she whispered through clenched teeth.
“Yes, but those aren’t for playing,” Walt said. “Too valuable.”
“No kidding,” Biscuit said, tugging gently at the sock. “What I wouldn’t give for one of those.”
“Oh, wait, don’t go yet. Look at that! I haven’t seen him do that in years!” Mrs. Biscuit said, grabbing Madison by the arm again. “You can stay another minute or two, can’t you? Maybe he just wanted some company?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Madison agreed. Maybe if she ran extra fast. And skipped packing her lunch. Maybe if she teleported. That would do it. She’d be at school in no time if she teleported.
Walt kept one eye on Madison.“Look, we’ll see what we can find out, okay? But in the meantime, you have to shut your mouth.”
Butterbean nodded, which was difficult to do while she was pulling on the sock.“What time do you see them? The invaders.”
Biscuit jerked the sock violently.“Night, mostly. But I keep up the guard during the day anyway, just in case. Never can be too sure.”
Walt nodded.“How’s this—we’ll find out what’s out there at the loading dock. And you keep quiet until we do. Deal?” She watched the tug-of-war carefully. Biscuit was definitely winning. But Walt thought Butterbean was holding back.
“Oh, I know what’s out there,” Biscuit said, jerking the sock a little too hard. (Butterbean made a note to check all her teeth later.) “Monsters, that’s what. I saw SLAVERING JAWS. SLAVERING. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had venom. DRIPPING FROM THEIR TEETH.”
“Right. We’ll find out all about the um, venom,” Butterbean said, trying not to lose her grip.
“Just keep your trap shut while we do,” Walt said.
“Okay, deal.” Biscuit sagged. He let go of the sock, sending Butterbean tumbling backward.
“And um, don’t worry about guarding. We’re part of a Secret Spy Organization. We’ll handle the guarding for you,” Walt said. They didn’t need that dog losing any more sleep. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Biscuit sagged even more.“Really?”
“Just hang tight until we report back,” Walt said.
“Maybe, um, take a nap while you wait,” Butterbean said. Naps were always a good way to pass the time.
“You really are a good therapist, Butterbean,” Biscuit said softly. “I feel better already.” He curled up in his basket and closed his eyes.
Butterbean trotted over to Madison and tugged on her pants leg.“Come on, Madison! Let’s go!” They needed to consult with Oscar and the others right away.
“Oh! Look, she wants to go! Wow, great talking to you got to go bye!” Madison babbled as she scooped up Walt and Butterbean.
“Come back anytime,” Mrs. Biscuit said, clutching Madison’s arm again. “ANYTIME.” She hardly took her eyes off of Biscuit as she held the door open for them. “THANK YOU,” she mouthed to Madison as they left.
Madison kept the frozen smile on her face until the door shut. Then she took off in a mad dash toward the elevator.
She didn’t think even teleporting would help her now.
— 5 —
“WE’RE NOT RETIRED ANYMORE, ARE we?” Oscar said, his feathers drooping. “Because we’re supposed to be retired, remember? We agreed?” He thought sadly of his extensive to-do list. That list had so many good plans. It didn’t have investigating intruders on it anywhere.
Butterbean and Walt had told the others what Biscuit had said as soon as Madison dropped them off. And“dropped them off” was the nice way to put it. Madison had practically pitched them into the apartment, grabbed her book bag, and raced off for the bus before their feet even hit the floor. She didn’t seem to remember that Butterbean hadn’t actually been for a walk. Butterbean didn’t mind, though. Walt had given special one-time permission for the use of her litter box. Butterbean appreciated it.
“We’re stealthy spies now, Oscar,” Walt said dryly. “Get used to it. We’re a Secret Spy Organization, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Yes. Okay,” Oscar sighed. “So slavering-jawed invaders are at the loading dock?” He frowned. “That sounds unlikely. Surely Wallace would’ve heard something from the loading dock rats?”
“Unless…” Polo wrung her hands anxiously. “I mean, could something have happened to them? The loading dock rats?”
“Because slavering jaws, that sounds pretty bad,” Marco said. He wasn’t entirely sure what “slavering” meant, but it sure didn’t sound good.