The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 by Nic Saint (interesting novels in english txt) 📕

red-eyed bulbul is a gregarious bird, often forming mixed flocks with other species.’

“Cops, Jer!” said Johnny.

He looked up from his magazine. “What?”

“Cops! We should be cops!”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“I mean it, Jer. Who knows more about crime than we do? I’ll bet the cops would pay good money for our expertise.”

“I don’t think so, Johnny.”

“It’s like that show about that guy who likes to wear white collars. And then he starts working for the cops and he catches all those other guys with white collars. I think the show was called—”

“White Collar. Yeah, I remember. I don’t think the cops are interested in our expertise, Johnny,” he said. He hated to disappoint his friend, but sometimes it was necessary to put the big oaf’s oversized feet on the ground again, as his brain tended to float off into space.

“Look, when this job is over, why don’t you and I go and have a chat with Chief Alec? Make him an offer he can’t refuse?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jerry, as he picked up his magazine again, this time turning to an article on the mating ritual of the great hornbill.

“I think you’d make a great cop, Jer. Just look at this.” And he held out his phone. It displayed one of those photo apps where a filter can be applied to your snaps. Johnny had taken Jerry’s picture and applied a filter that showed him in a police uniform, complete with police cap and everything.

In spite of his misgivings, Jerry had to laugh. “Will you look at that! That’s not half bad!”

“See?” said Johnny, grinning from ear to ear. “And I’ve got one of the two of us together.” And he showed Jerry a picture of the both of them dressed as cops. “Starsky and Hutch!”

Jerry’s grin widened. “More like Laverne and Shirley.”

“So who’s Laverne and who’s Shirley?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.”

“What are we waiting for, Jer?!”

“I’m waiting for you to stop talking crap,” he said, his mood making that swift change it often did. “We’ll never be cops, you and me. Not after the stuff we did.”

“But, Jer!”

“Pretty sure you gotta have a clean record to be a cop, Johnny.”

“Records can be expunged.”

Jer threw down his magazine. “I’m going to the can. You keep an eye out, will you? And stop messing around with those damn filters,” he growled and snatched Johnny’s phone from his hands and dumped it on the bed where it bounced a couple of times.

Johnny was a great guy, but sometimes he got carried away.

Becoming a cop. What a joke!

Chapter 20

Marge had arrived in Town Hall for the big reception and was surprised to see her husband walk in, accompanied by her mom and Scarlett. Marge had snagged herself a seat near the front of the large reception hall, right in front of the podium, and beckoned to Tex and her mom and her friend. They soon joined her and she asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I, um, put a sign on the door,” said her husband, but refused to meet her eye as he said this.

“A sign on the door? And what about your patients?”

“Oh, they’ll just have to wait with being sick,” he said airily, going all shifty-eyed on her now. Clearly something was up. You can’t be married to a man for twenty-five years and not notice when that man is lying to you.

“What’s going on, Tex?” she asked. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Acting like what?” he asked, trying to look all innocent but succeeding in making things even worse. He was sweating and his face was flushed and his head looked like it was about to burst into flame.

“You’re not cheating on me, are you?” she asked, taking a wild stab in the dark.

“Cheating on you!” he said, and laughed what was presumably supposed to be a careless laugh but sounded like the croak of an old rooster—a cheating rooster!

“Come on, Tex. Spill,” she demanded, turning to him and fixing him with a stern look. “I know you’re hiding something. I can tell.”

“Hiding something!” he said, still proceeding with that careless look on his face that made him look so silly. “I’m not hiding—”

“Better tell her, Tex,” Marge’s mom advised.

Tex gulped.

“Tell me what? What’s going on!” she cried, starting to feel a little hot under her collar herself now. “If you don’t tell me right this minute I’ll scream, you got that?”

“All right, all right!” said Tex, holding up his hands in an appeasing gesture that only served to get her more worked up. “Look, it’s such a silly thing. So silly in fact that it makes me laugh. Ha ha ha.”

“Tex!” she said warningly.

“Okay, so Emma Bezel came by this morning.”

“Who’s Emma Bezel?”

“Evelina Pytel’s sister.”

“The woman whose boyfriend was found on that potato truck?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I watch the news, Tex. So why did Emma Bezel come to see you?”

“Well, she suggested that I… take her sister out on a date.”

She stared at her husband. “You’ve been cheating on me with Emma Bezel?”

“Not Emma, Evelina,” he said helpfully.

“What?!”

“It’s not what it sounds like!” Tex hastened to say.

But just then, Charlene Butterwick walked onto the stage and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow Hampton Covians, council members, it is my distinct pleasure to see so many of you gathered here today for this singular occasion.”

“You’re cheating on me with Evelina Pytel?!” Marge hissed. “The woman just lost her boyfriend and already you’re canoodling with her behind my back?!”

“No, it’s not like that!”

“Today we have a very special guest,” Charlene said. “And it’s none other than Lord Wilfred Hilbourne!”

“Honey!” Tex pleaded when Marge turned a stoic face away from her husband. “It’s not what you think!”

The room erupted in loud applause, and Lord Hilbourne, or at least Marge assumed that it was him, came walking up the stage and joined Mayor Butterwick.

“I can explain!” Tex tooted in her ear.

“Please don’t talk to me, Tex,” she said coldly.

“But—”

“Evelina Pytel!” she cried, and Evelina must have somehow heard