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

“It’s nice of them, don’t you think, Max?” said Dooley. “That they don’t want to hurt Tex’s feelings?”

“I think ultimately they’re doing him a disfavor, though,” I said. “After all, if only someone stood up and told him he’s probably the worst chef in the history of chefhood, maybe he’d take steps to remedy the situation, instead of making it worse.”

We watched as Tex intensely studied a piece of fish, frowning as if willing it to reveal its culinary secrets.

“How can you ruin sushi?” I heard Scarlett whisper back. “It’s raw fish!”

But when we glanced over to Odelia and Chase, they both looked so obviously happy Tex could have served them roadkill and they’d have savored it with relish, thinking it was the finest gourmet dish.

“Why was that priest dressed so funny, Max?” asked Dooley. “And why did he break into song in the middle of the service?”

“He was dressed as Elvis, Dooley,” explained Harriet. “It’s a local custom here in Vegas.”

“Yeah, plenty of Elvis impersonators here,” Brutus confirmed.

“Are you sure they’re really married, though?” asked Dooley. “That guy didn’t look like a priest to me.”

“He wasn’t a priest, but yes, they’re officially married,” I confirmed. “You don’t need a priest to be married in the eyes of the law. All you need is an officiant who’s certified.”

“Well, he certainly looked certifiable to me,” Dooley said, nodding.

We all laughed, except for Dooley, who didn’t realize he’d said something funny.

“So you caught the real killers, did you?” asked Charlene.

“Yeah, we did,” Uncle Alec confirmed. “Bojanowsky and Bonikowski will do time.”

“But how did you find out that they were the ones behind all this?”

“Um…” Uncle Alec paused and glanced in my direction. “Well, part of it is good old-fashioned police work, of course. The other part…” He shrugged. “If I tell you that Max solved the case, along with some friendly assistance from Evelina Pytel’s pet snail, you’re not going to think I’m funny in the head, are you?”

Charlene laughed, then stared at her boyfriend with a touch of incredulity. “No,” she finally said, when she realized he wasn’t pulling her leg. “No, of course not. A cat and a snail, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what do you know?”

“And what about Johnny and Jerry?” asked Marge, who seemed to have a soft spot for the two crooks who had such a hard time getting and staying on the straight and narrow.

“Johnny and Jerry are fine,” Chase assured his mother-in-law. “They’ve been released and they’ve promised to stay out of trouble from now on.”

“Did I tell you they were in my office the other day?” said Uncle Alec.

“What did they want?” asked Odelia.

“To ask what the procedure was to become a cop.”

Chase uttered a bark of incredulity. “No way.”

“Yeah, way,” said Uncle Alec with a touch of somberness. “Johnny wanted to know all about job openings at the station, and Jerry was particularly interested in pay scales. I told them they didn’t stand a chance of becoming cops, as you need a clean record and their record is probably about as long as my arm. But that didn’t seem to deter them.”

“So we might see them patrolling our streets soon?” asked Tex as he flipped a piece of pale pink fish onto the Chief’s plate. At least I think he was aiming for the Chief’s plate. Instead it landed on the Chief’s head with a squishy sound and then just lay there, looking inedible and kinda sad before the Chief plucked it from his brow and… ate it.

Charlene patted her boyfriend on the back. “The hotel has a twenty-four-hour restaurant,” she whispered.

“Yeah, well, I doubt whether they’ll be patrolling our streets any time soon,” the Chief grunted, giving his girlfriend a grateful look.

“They could always become parking enforcement officers,” Marge suggested. “You don’t need to have a clean record to do that, or do you?”

“Please, Marge, don’t encourage them,” the Chief pleaded with his sister. “It’s bad enough that they’ve been regular visitors at the station holding cell. I don’t want them to start infesting the rest of my precinct as well.”

“Well, I firmly believe in the power of rehabilitation,” said Marge stubbornly.

“Good for you, Marge,” said Scarlett, who was intently studying a piece of fish, probably wondering what it was. She then glanced surreptitiously in my direction. I got the message. She wasn’t my first customer of the evening. So I quickly padded over and accepted the piece of fish from her hand, which she proceeded to use to give me a grateful pat on the head. I gave her hand an equally grateful lick.

“I wanna make a toast,” said Gran now as she got to her feet a little unsteadily. She’d discovered saké at the beginning of the evening and had taken a distinct liking to the brew. “To the gride and broom,” she said, raising her glass high and spilling some of the clear liquid. “May they live happily ever after and, and, and… and all of that good stuff!”

“Hear, hear!” said Marge.

“And to our cats,” Gran added as she turned to us. “May they keep being the best helpers that ever solved a crime in our fair town. To Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus!”

Loud cheers rang out, and more fish was aimed at our humans’ plates by an enthusiastic father of the bride—soon to be redistributed to us, conveniently located nearby!

“Why am I always the last one to be mentioned?” Brutus lamented.

I gave him a gentle nudge and said, “Have you never heard the expression ‘The last will be first?’”

“No, I haven’t. You just made that up, didn’t you?”

“No, it’s a thing,” I assured him. “And I’m sure that next time you’ll be the one to crack the case. You’ve got the brains, you’ve got the skills, and you certainly got the brawn.”

“Very kind of you to say so, Max. You’re absolutely right. I’ve got both the brains and the brawn. So I’m ready to start cracking some tough cases. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even let you be