Gabe was now officially Pussy’s guardian, and together they actually ran the company, with a little help from Odelia, who was able via Skype to relay Pussy’s input to Gabe.
Chris had been relegated to jail, with Tank now spending his days in the care of Chris’s mom, who was a strict disciplinarian, and wasn’t taking any nonsense from the nasty little brute. Leonora was also in jail awaiting trial. Her confession had been headline news, and even though she kept screaming fake news, and claiming the whole thing had been created with Photoshop, there wasn’t a person who believed her. Especially since Helga had decided to come clean and confess what she’d done. It ended a particularly sordid history in the annals of Hampton Cove, one we were all glad to leave behind us.
Odelia straightened and joined the humans at their table.
“I still think we should set up a detective agency,” Gran was saying.
“You mean you and me?” said Odelia.
“Of course you and me, and Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus. Whatever that guy Chris Cross was doing we can do, too. Only much, much better.”
“It’s an idea,” said Chase carefully.
“I like it,” said Tex. “The Pet Detective Agency. PDA.”
They all laughed at that, except Tex, who didn’t get the joke.
“It’s going to attract a lot of attention,” said Marge. “And potentially a lot of negative publicity.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s a good idea, Gran,” said Odelia. “We’ll get a ton of crackpots who are drawn in by the publicity. I think we should continue the way we have, out of the limelight, and keeping things as discreet as we can.”
“I guess so,” said Gran grudgingly.
“You don’t want to subject your cats to that kind of scrutiny,” Uncle Alec said. “It will bring in kidnappers and all kinds of weirdos and nutcases who might try to grab the cats and hang them on their walls as trophies.”
I shivered at the word picture Uncle Alec had painted. Not a pretty one.
“What are trophies, Max?” asked Dooley.
“The heads of animals that hunters like to collect so they can show off to their friends how good they are at murdering animals.”
Now Dooley shivered, too. “How terrible!”
How terrible, indeed.
“You know, I can’t thank you guys enough,” said Gabe. “If not for you, I’d still be in prison and the company would have probably been run into the ground by Leonora.”
“Yeah, she was misguided when she thought she would do a better job than you and Leo,” said Odelia.
“Sadly she was misinformed,” said Gabe. “Apparently some of the shareholders had been feeding her the wrong kind of information for years, and she truly believed that Leo and I were destroying the company, and the only way to save it was to get rid of Leo and myself.”
“Sad story,” said Marge as she ladled a large helping of potato salad onto the former hair stylist’s plate.
“Yeah, if only I’d known what she was up to,” said Gabe. “I might have been able to stop her.”
“You can’t think that way, Gabe,” said Marge.
“Marge is right,” said Tex. “Thinking like that will drive you nuts.”
Alec clapped the other man on the back, almost making him choke on a piece of potato salad. “I knew you didn’t do it, buddy. Call it a cop’s hunch.”
“You seemed pretty convinced, Alec,” said Chase.
“Oh, in my heart of hearts I knew all along Gabe wasn’t our guy.”
“Good to know!” said Gabe laconically, eliciting a grin from Chase and a frown from Alec.
“So this is the second time our lack of swimming skills has hampered us,” I said.
“Wasn’t Odelia going to teach us how to swim?” asked Brutus.
“She was, but I’m not exactly looking forward to it,” said Harriet. “Imagine this fur, wet. It’s going to be a tragedy.”
“It’s not a joke,” said Pussy when Dooley laughed. “If I get wet my fur soaks up water like a sponge and I turn into a balloon. Drags me right down.”
“Only short-haired cats should swim,” said Brutus. “Like you and me, Dooley.”
“I’m not sure,” said Dooley, not all that keen on becoming a swimmer.
“By the way,” I said, “when are we going to be able to congratulate you two?”
Harriet frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The kittens,” said Dooley, catching my drift. “You were going to adopt.”
Harriet and Brutus shared a quick look, then Harriet shook her head. “We’ve thought about it and we’ve decided to wait.”
“Wait?” asked Dooley. “Wait for what?”
“For later, all right? And now can you please shut up about kittens already?!”
Dooley shut up. I could have told him that Harriet was the kind of cat who, once she got an idea into her head, could drive everyone crazy harping on about it, but just as soon forgot all about it when a new idea entered her head. I had the impression she’d forgotten about those kittens the moment she’d mentioned them, and didn’t enjoy being reminded of her impetuousness.
“I like kittens,” said Pussy dreamily.
“Hey, I like kittens!” said Dooley.
“What a coincidence!” Pussy cried.
“I like kibble,” said Dooley.
“Me, too!”
The two stared at each other for a moment, then Pussy giggled, and so did Dooley, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he actually blushed beneath his fur.
Oh, dear. This could only mean one thing. Dooley was in love.
“Let’s give these two lovebirds some space, Max,” said Brutus with all the delicacy and diplomacy of an elephant stomping on someone’s toes.
But he was probably right. Still, it was with some reluctance that I followed Harriet and Brutus and left Dooley and Pussy to explore what else they had in common, aside from their self-professed love of kittens and kibble.
And as I walked away I could see the love light shining brightly in Dooley’s eyes.
“Let’s slip next door, snuggle bunny,” said Harriet, on whom young love always had an aphrodisiacal effect.
“Great idea, angel face,” grunted Brutus.
And before I knew what was happening, I suddenly found myself all by myself. And as I wandered into the fallow piece of land lining Odelia’s backyard, I was feeling slightly dejected. If my best friend was going to hook up with the richest cat in the world, what was going to happen to me? And as I aimlessly drifted here and there, I suddenly noticed a pair of cat’s eyes following my every movement. When I looked over, I saw they belonged to a cat I knew very well indeed.
“Hey, Clarice,” I said. “How are things?”
“Things could literally not be better,” she said.
Clarice is a feral cat who likes to live wild and free. She roams the fields and forests surrounding Hampton Cove, and is the best dumpster diver I know. She’s also something of an acquired taste. And she has a standing invitation, extended by Odelia, to consider our house her home.
“Care for a piece of succulent meat?” I asked.
“Is Tex manning the grill?”
“No. They hired a caterer.”
“Then I don’t mind if I do,” she said, and followed me into the backyard.
She watched as Dooley and Pussy got cozy, and clicked her tongue. “Young love,” she said. “It disgusts me.”
I laughed. “Most people wouldn’t agree with that particular view.”
“That’s because most people are idiots.”
“Well, if not for young love no babies would be born, or kittens.”
“And would that be such a bad thing?”
What did I tell you? Acquired taste.
We moved over to Odelia’s side and when Odelia saw Clarice she smiled and petted her. Odelia is the only one who is allowed to do that, and Clarice actually purred with delight!
Odelia then handed down a piece of burger and Clarice gobbled it up. “Keep em coming,” she snarled, and Odelia did just that.
Clarice then jumped up on Odelia’s lap, and the feast continued unabated.
And as I watched on, Clarice being fed and petted by Odelia, Dooley and Pussy gabbing away on the swing, my humans prattling gaily in the backyard, and Brutus and Harriet ducking in and out of the shrubbery, my heart warmed. Who was I kidding? Even if Dooley hooked up with Pussy, which I kinda doubted he would, I wasn’t losing a friend but gaining another friend.