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

her, for just at that moment she came hurrying up the aisle and took a seat right next to Marge.

“Did I miss anything?” the woman asked.

Marge slowly turned to her husband and said, “Do you want to switch seats?”

“Oh, God,” Tex muttered.

“I told you to come clean straight away,” said Marge’s mom.

“You told me not to tell her!” said Tex.

Marge leaned over. “You told my husband not to tell me he was having an affair?”

“No!” said Ma. “That’s not what happened!”

“Oh, Ma,” said Marge, shaking her head.

“I can explain!” Ma cried.

“Please be quiet,” said Marge, and turned a deaf ear to both her husband and her mother and focused on the happenings as they proceeded on stage.

“It’s a great honor for me to be standing here in front of you today,” said Lord Hilbourne, who was very young, Marge thought. Extremely young to be a lord. Then again, what did she know about English lords? They probably could be young or old or whatever. He was also very handsome, in spite of his weird sideburns. He had one of those floppy hairdos Hugh Grant used to have at the beginning of his career, before he chopped off his nice hair and opted for a regular haircut.

“Hampton Cove has been my favorite vacationing place for ages,” Lord Hilbourne was saying as he held up the key he’d just received, as well as a nice shiny watch. “Of course it’s much more than a place to go on holiday. As you all know my mom was born here, so it’s like a second home to me. And it was with distinct pleasure that I learned that the town council and its wonderful mayor decided to do me this singular honor and bestow the keys to the city on me. And if it means I can come and go as I please from now on I’m sure I’m tickled pink, for that’s exactly what I had in mind!”

And what Marge had in mind was to give her husband a piece of her mind the moment this baby Lord stopped gibbering.

Chapter 21

We’d arrived just in time—or just too late—for the big to-do at Town Hall. Odelia had snuck in quietly while the Mayor was giving her speech, and Dooley and I had followed suit. Glancing to my left, I suddenly saw, hiding under a chair… Harriet and Brutus!

“Look who’s here,” I told Dooley, and directed his attention to our two friends.

“Oh, let’s go over and say hi!” said Dooley, always the most sociable cat anywhere.

So we trotted over, hiding under the chairs and making sure no one kicked us, and soon came upon the prissy Persian and her butch male mate.

“Hey, you guys,” I said. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And why not, may I ask?” said Harriet, clearly unhappy to be there.

“I thought you didn’t like crowded places?”

“I don’t, but I thought it was our duty to show up and provide Odelia with those important little nuggets of reporter gold that spruce up her daily columns.”

“We were thinking exactly the same thing, weren’t we, Dooley?”

“Oh, sure,” said Dooley. “Listen, we talked to Mr. Ed again, and he says he’s absolutely convinced that Bob Rector was a very bad guy, and that he set up his own abduction so he could swindle Evelina Pytel out of that ransom money. So you see, Brutus? A snail can be a good and loyal pet. Mr. Ed is being a very good and very loyal pet to Evelina, and will probably save her seventy-five thousand dollars—if Odelia ever succeeds in getting that money back from Bob Rector’s partner in crime, whoever he or she is.”

“Well, for your information,” said Brutus, “your friend Mr. Ed snuck into both of our homes while you guys were out and ate all of your food. So not so nice after all, is he?”

“Brutus!” said Harriet, clearly surprised by this denouement.

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” said Brutus.

“Mr. Ed ate all of our food?” asked Dooley, looking flabbergasted.

“Yes, he did. Must have happened soon after you left,” said Brutus.

“I don’t believe this,” I said. “Are you sure it was him?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Brutus, sounding and looking a little too pleased with himself for my taste. “We found trails of slime all over the place, didn’t we, snuggle pooh? Of course we cleaned them all off. Took us a long time, too. Difficult to get off, slime.”

Harriet was conspicuously quiet, but her eyes were blazing. Clearly there was more to this story than met the eye.

“How could a small snail like Mr. Ed, who doesn’t weigh more than a few grams, possibly eat four bowls of kibble?” I asked.

“Eight bowls,” Brutus corrected me blithely. “He emptied the bowls in both homes.”

“Even worse! Mr. Ed’s stomach isn’t big enough to even provide space for a single piece of kibble! In fact I’ll bet that if you gave him one nugget he’d be fed for weeks!”

Brutus stared at me. Clearly he hadn’t considered this.

“So how do you explain that, Brutus?” I repeated.

He clamped his mouth shut with a click of the teeth, then muttered, “I know nothing.”

“What?”

“I know nothing,” he said quietly, and the shake of the head Harriet gave at this surprising statement told me all I needed to know.

“You ate our food, didn’t you? And you’re trying to put the blame on Mr. Ed.”

“I know nothing,” the butch black cat repeated.

“Oh, Brutus, you’re such a terrible liar.”

“I know nothing?” he tried once more.

“Harriet, say something.”

“It was the dogs!” Brutus suddenly blurted out.

“Brutus!” Harriet yelled. “Shut up!”

“No, but it was the dogs, wasn’t it? Fifi and Rufus? They snuck in through the pet flap and ate all of our food. Must have been real hungry, too. I didn’t want to say anything cause I know how much you guys love Fifi and Rufus, but there it is. They should probably face the consequences of their actions. A crime like this can’t go unpunished.”

“Fifi would never steal our food,” I said. “She’s too well-bred.”

“And too well-fed,” Dooley