“OH NO!” Polo turned to Marco, her eyes huge.
“Basement?” Marco said, climbing out of the cage.
Polo nodded.“BASEMENT! NOW!”
“No way. Forget it,” Reginald said, his face stony. “Absolutely not.”
Oscar reeled back a little. They’d gone from “whatever you need” to “no” in record time. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Why not?” Walt said, lashing her tail.
“What’s wrong with the plan?” Butterbean asked.
“What’s WRONG WITH IT?” Reginald demanded. “You want us to GET CAUGHT!”
“Well,” Butterbean said. “Just a little.”
“And not really CAUGHT caught,” Walt said.
“We just need them to know that Madison’s not the one doing this,” Oscar clarified. “That’s all. We don’t want them to actually catch you.”
Reginald glared at them, his eyes cold.“Look, I’ve got a soft heart. I don’t want the kid to go to jail. But do you KNOW what they do to raccoons that get caught?”
Oscar shifted uncomfortably.“Um. Not exactly.”
“ME NEITHER,” Reginald boomed. He seemed 100 percent back to his old intimidating self. “And I DON’T WANT TO FIND OUT.”
“Urk.” Oscar swallowed hard.
“That goes for these guys too,” Reginald said, waving his arm around at the other raccoons, who seemed to be building blanket forts with some bedding they’d found. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. (Butterbean had the distinct impression he was also counting to ten.)
“I see your point,” Oscar said, frowning. It was true, those didn’t look like raccoons who would do well in captivity. And that was the best-case scenario.
Oscar clicked his beak in frustration. If the raccoons got caught in the act, it would definitely clear Madison’s name. But Reginald was right. He hadn’t fully appreciated the risk to the raccoons.
Oscar stepped forward and gave a slight bow.“Reginald, I have to apologize. I wasn’t considering the implications.” He turned to the others. “We’ll have to come up with something else.”
“But what other options do we have? There’s nothing else. What are we supposed to do?” Walt demanded. “Frame someone? Because I can’t think—”
“Well, look at that.” The white cat stalked into the storage area flanked by Marco, Polo, and Wallace. She sat down and shot an accusing look at Walt and the others. “I thought we’d be leading a rescue expedition, but it looks like somebody forgot to invite us to a party.”
Walt and Oscar exchanged a significant glance.
“You left us behind!” Polo complained, stomping up to Butterbean.
“You should’ve told us,” Marco muttered.
“Yeah,” Wallace said weakly. He still hadn’t quite woken up.
“And you’re buddy-buddy with this guy now?” The white cat nodded toward the big raccoon. “Weren’t you saying something about threats, Oscar?”
A raccoon wearing a tutu reached out slowly toward the button around Polo’s neck. Polo shot him a nervous side eye and edged closer to the white cat.
Oscar shifted his weight awkwardly.“Well, see, Butterbean did some therapy…”
“Oh, of course. Butterbean did therapy. It’s all clear now.” The white cat rolled her eyes as she smacked the tutu raccoon’s hand away. “Puh-leaze.”
“It’s true!” Butterbean said. “And the raccoons are going to help us clear Madison.”
“Oh, so they’re confessing to Bob? Is that it?” The white cat twitched her tail. “Again, I say, PUH-LEAZE.”
Walt shot another significant look to Oscar.
“So we were just um, thinking about you, actually,” Walt said to the white cat in her sweetest voice. “About what a talented actor you are.” She nudged Oscar hard.
Oscar snapped to attention.“Right. So talented.” He swallowed nervously. “And we were hoping… well, we were thinking we could um, hire you? Maybe?”
Butterbean’s eyes grew wide. “OOH! RIGHT! I get it! Like last time! That would be perfect!”
The white cat had done them a favor once, giving a showstopping performance to help get the animals out of some trouble. (She’d done an amazing job. Residents of the building were still talking about it. At least, the white cat was still talking about it.)
The white cat inspected her paw.“So let me get this straight. You’re thinking that I’ll step in and save the day for you again by pretendingI’m the one who made this mess? Is that it?”
“Yes?” Butterbean said hopefully.
“No,” the white cat sniffed. “I have an exclusive contract with Beautiful Buffet Cat Food, remember?” She waved the package of caviar treats in the air. “I couldn’t help even if I wanted to. No more side gigs. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry, who is this?” Reginald said, staring at the white cat with a baffled expression.
“Um, excuse me. Could I…” Two small, thin hands were trying to grab at the waving treat package. The white cat looked down to see the small raccoon wearing a tube top wiggling its fingers in anticipation. “Would you mind if…” the raccoon said in a tiny voice.
The white cat tossed the package to the raccoon.“Oh, please, take the whole thing. You’re doing me a favor.”
The small raccoon took a treat, examined it, and hurried over to the utility sink to wash it carefully. Then she took a delicate bite.“Oh yes, thank you. Very nice,” she said, her eyes shining. She took one more and then tucked the package into her tube top.
The white cat’s eyebrows shot up. “At least somebody likes them,” she muttered.
“LISTEN UP!” Reginald clapped his hands loudly. “Here’s the solution. We’ll just stop, okay?” He scratched his stomach. “This place is getting old anyway, what with that lady and that maintenance guy always snooping around. Besides, we’ve already found most of the good stuff.”
Butterbean looked at Walt and Oscar.“That sounds good, right? If they just stop? It’ll be all solved then!”
“Well…” A strange look crossed Oscar’s face.
Reginald nodded.“Done.” He turned to the raccoons behind him. “NEW RULE! No more messing things up, okay? From now on everything goes back where you found it.”
“Oooohhhhh.” The raccoons gave a half-hearted thumbs-up before continuing on with what looked like a costume party. (Except for the group in the corner, which had started what sounded like a barbershop quartet.)
“NO!” Oscar said suddenly. “No no no, that’s the absolute worst thing you could do. Do NOT stop.”
“But that’s what we want, isn’t it? For them to stop?” Butterbean was so confused. It was late, and she’d put in a long night of work already. Being a therapist was harder than she’d thought.
“Don’t you see? If they stop now, it’ll look like it was Madison all along,” Oscar said. “Think about it. She’s not coming down here anymore. So if it stops…”
“They’ll still think it was her!” Butterbean said. “We need to make it worse, right?”
Reginald sighed and clapped his hands again.“LISTEN UP! Change of plans. DO NOT put things back where you found them. Let’s mess this place up!”
“WHOOHOO!” The raccoons gave a much more enthusiastic thumbs-up and cheer and flung various bits of clothing into the air. Chad even clapped from the sink (splashing the harmonica raccoon in the process).
“Thank you,” Oscar said to Reginald after the cheering had ended. “I think this will work.”
“It has to,” Butterbean said.
“We’ll make sure it does,” Reginald said. He nudged Butterbean. “And don’t worry, Doc. We’ll put that lady’s stuff back where she’s sure to see it. Clear the kid’s name.”
“Thanks,” Butterbean said, beaming. “You’re a very good patient.”
Reginald’s ears turned pink. “Well, you know. Felt good to talk to someone.”
“Doc?” Walt stared at Butterbean for a long second and then shook her head.
Reginald picked up a throw pillow and tore it in half with his bare hands.“Now, you guys clear out. We’ve got a mess to make!” he said, throwing the fluff in the air.