“Oh, it’s extremely illegal. But that doesn’t mean it can’t also be a lot of fun.”
“Fun,” said Dooley unhappily. “Fun is having a nice nap on the couch. Fun is having a great night at cat choir. Fun isn’t being caught by a cat-eating maniac, or breaking into people’s homes.” He sighed. “I just hope this guy doesn’t think cats taste like chicken, too.”
CHAPTER 34
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
I have to say I wasn’t all that keen on accompanying Gran on this excursion. She has a tendency of overdoing things and letting her zeal get her into trouble. Then again, Marge and Tex had also signed off on the plan, so perhaps it wasn’t as crazy a scheme as I thought it was.
And so the evening’s entertainment began. Marge and Tex were the first to leave, as they had to act as the distraction that would enable the rest of us to sneak in and do our business.
We rode with Gran and Scarlett, and as we approached the house, the old lady parked across the street, keeping a close eye on the Pooles, who at that moment had already gotten out of their car and were walking up to the house.
“This is it, you guys,” said Gran excitedly. “It’s happening!”
And it was. Tex applied his finger to the doorbell of what was arguably an impressive house, though not as impressive as some of the mansions I’d seen.
“It’s not as big as I thought it would be,” said Scarlett.
“No, it’s definitely not as big as Charlie Dieber’s house,” said Gran. “Or Donna Bruce’s old place.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like big houses?” Scarlett suggested.
“Or maybe he’s stingy,” Dooley suggested. “And that’s why his daughter ran off with her boyfriend to join the circus. Because he wouldn’t fund her lavish lifestyle, and allow her to live in the lap of luxury.”
“Let’s just wait and see what it looks like inside,” I suggested. “These places always look much bigger on the inside than the outside suggests.”
“Of course,” said Gran. “These billionaires try to be discreet and not attract too much unwanted attention.”
Whatever the case, Marge and Tex had been allowed into the house, and as they entered, Marge half turned and gave us a look of significance.
“And we’re on,” said Gran.
We got out of the car as quickly as possible, and moved up to the house.
“Looks like Marge managed to do as I asked,” Gran whispered, as she gently pushed against the door, which yielded to the pressure and easily swung open.
“Are you sure about this, Vesta?” asked Scarlett, experiencing those last-minute jitters.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Gran snapped, and without further ado entered the house.
We all followed in her footsteps, and when she told us to spread out and meet her back there in ten minutes, we didn’t waste any time, and did as we were told.
“I just hope he doesn’t have dogs,” Dooley intimated. “I like dogs, but not all dogs like cats.”
Gran and Scarlett disappeared upstairs, and Dooley and I decided to investigate the ground floor.
I could hear voices coming from somewhere nearby. Undoubtedly Marge and Tex were getting better acquainted with our Mr. Dexter.
“What are we looking for, exactly, Max?” asked Dooley.
“No idea. Anything that strikes us as interesting, I guess.”
“Gran wants us to find something increaminating,” said Dooley. “So maybe we should check the kitchen. Most humans keep their cream in the fridge.”
“I don’t think she was referring to cream,” I said. “She wants something she can use to blackmail the guy.”
“Why does Gran want to blackmail Mr. Dexter?”
“Because she believes he’s having an affair with Odelia, which he’s not.”
“It’s all getting very complicated, isn’t it, Max?” Dooley lamented.
We’d arrived at what looked like a study of some kind, with plenty of bookcases lining the walls, and a large desk with a laptop computer, that was humming pleasantly in the background.
“Oh, look,” said Dooley. “Mr. Dexter’s computer. Maybe it’s mining shitcoins.”
“Bitcoins, Dooley, not shitcoins,” I corrected my friend. “And I don’t think that’s what this laptop is doing. To mine bitcoin you need a much bigger computer.”
Still, my interest was attracted by that laptop. I just hoped it wasn’t protected with a password. It’s a very annoying habit humans have to protect everything with a password.
So I hopped onto the office chair neatly placed in front of that desk, and tapped the spacebar of the laptop with my paw. Immediately the computer sprang to life, showing a picture of a very large and very orange cat. I stared at the cat for a moment, wondering why Mr. Dexter would have put my image up on his computer as a screensaver, but then I realized this wasn’t me but some other orange cat. I just hoped this particular specimen wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity, for it looked huge!
As it was, though, the laptop was locked, as I had expected, and needed Mr. Dexter’s finger to unlock it. And since I didn’t have that particular finger at my immediate disposal, I heaved a sigh of disappointment and hopped down again from my perch.
And that’s when it happened: there was a loud snarl, a sort of whizzing motion, and suddenly our exit was blocked by a very large, very orange cat!
“Gotcha!” this cat announced, displaying a vicious sort of grimace as it uttered these fateful words.
“Oh, hey, there,” I said, trying to keep my cool, though inside I wasn’t feeling at all sanguine about this fateful meeting. If this cat started meowing and alerting its master, we were definitely in a pickle.
“My name is Max,” I said, by way of introduction, “and this is Dooley.”
The cat stared from me to Dooley and back again, and broke into a sort of wide grin.“Max! Of course! We’ve met before, remember? At cat choir? I was supposed to sing with the basses but Shanille told me my pitch was too high, so she put me with the tenors instead, and I ended up standing next to you. You were even kind enough to show me the ropes.”
“That’s right!” I said. “Now I remember. You have a very nice singing voice… um…”
“Dex Dexter,” said the cat, and held up his right paw. “Put it there, brother.”
And so I put it there, and so did Dooley, though the latter did so with a touch of trepidation. Dex was a big cat, easily twice my size, and I’m not a kitten myself.
“So Mr. Dexter is your human,” I said. “I didn’t know.”
“Oh, it’s a long story,” said Dex. “He wasn’t always my human, you know. But I won’t bore you with the details. So how have you guys been? It’s been too long since I managed to squeeze cat choir into my schedule. Busy busy, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, though I didn’t. Then again, these billionaires probably jet around the world on a continuous basis. Tokyo today, St Barts tomorrow.
“We’re looking for something incriminating on your human,” said Dooley, who hadn’t forgotten our mission. “So that we can make him break up his non-existing relationship with our human. It’s all very complicated,” he admitted. “I don’t understand it myself.”
“Your human and my human? Hey, what a blast,” said Dex. “That means we’re going to be housemates from now on. How about that?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Mr. Dexter hired Odelia to find his daughter for him, and now Odelia’s grandmother thinks they’re having an affair, just because Odelia gave Mr. Dexter a hug. It’s all one big misunderstanding,” I explained.
“I’ll bet it is,” said Dex, looking puzzled all of a sudden. “Cause as far as I know, my human doesn’t have a daughter.”
CHAPTER 35
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
“What do you mean, he doesn’t have a daughter?” I asked.
“It’s part of that long and complicated story I didn’t want to bore you with,” said Dex as he took a seat. “But if you insist, I might be persuaded to tell you all about it. But not now, and not here. Frankly I’ve been hoping to join cat choir again, and now with you guys showing up, I’m thinking this must be some kind of sign.”