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

Odelia slowly turned to face the prissy Persian. “I’m a married person. Are you saying I don’t look happy?”

“Oh, but you just got married,” said Harriet quickly. “Newlyweds always look happy. It’s when they’ve been married for a while that the problems begin.”

Odelia was frowning. A new bride doesn’t like to be reminded that marriage problems exist, let alone are a contingency to watch out for. “Pray tell, Harriet.”

“Well, obviously I can’t speak from experience,” Harriet began.

“Obviously.”

“But from what I’ve seen, the problems usually begin when babies enter the picture. I think you’d do well to consider putting off any ideas of a family expansion in the immediate future. In fact I think having babies is the best way to guarantee the end of that blissful honeymoon stage you’re enjoying so much right now.”

“And how do you figure that?” asked Odelia, who didn’t look entirely convinced by Harriet’s unbidden marriage advice.

“Well, babies drive a wedge between husband and wife, see. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but babies cry. In fact crying is pretty much all they do. They cry at night, they cry during the day, and all this crying makes it so that mom and dad never get a minute of sleep. So this makes them cranky, as most humans need a lot of sleep. And that’s when the shouting begins, and the recriminations, and before long the D word is dropped.”

“The D word?” asked Dooley. “You don’t mean… Drugs!”

“I was actually thinking about Divorce, but drugs might be a factor,” Harriet said, nodding. “So you see? Better don’t start a family, Odelia. Besides, babies are overrated, and with overpopulation and stuff I think it’s wise to simply drop the whole idea.”

“Oh, Harriet,” said Odelia with a laugh. “You’re like a walking, talking contraception ad.”

Harriet, who clearly felt this was praise of the highest order, beamed. “Thank you!”

“I think you should start with babies very soon,” said Dooley, countering Harriet’s gloomy view. “In fact I’m keeping an eye out for that stork for you, Odelia, and the moment I see him I’m flagging him down, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried, Dooley,” said Odelia with a half-smile as she gave my friend a pat on the head. “But between you and me,” she added, leaning in and dropping her voice to a whisper, “babies are the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“Good!” Harriet cried. “Excellent! I suggest you keep it that way!”

“But Odelia!” said Dooley. “What if the stork comes? What do I tell him?”

“You tell him—” Odelia started to say, but whatever Dooley was supposed to tell the stork would have to wait, as just at that moment Melanie Myers came walking out of the agency, swinging a mean purse, sashaying in the direction of Main Street.

“Max, Dooley, Harriet, Brutus!” Odelia snapped. “Follow that woman!”

Chapter 4

Odelia had opened the door and so we jumped out of the car and hurried to follow that woman, and not let her out of our sight even for one second!

“I don’t understand, Max,” said Dooley as he panted a little from the exertion. “Why doesn’t Odelia follow her? Doesn’t she want to take pictures when she meets the boyfriend?”

“Oh, Odelia is following her,” I assured my friend. And when we both glanced back we saw that indeed our human was following at some distance, making sure she wasn’t getting too close. On the other side of the street, meanwhile, Harriet and Brutus had also taken up the pursuit. So now no less than five operatives were on the case! Good thing four of those operatives were paid in kibble, or else this operation would get costly!

“It would probably be a good thing if in the future Odelia outfitted us with some kind of tracking device,” I said, “or a hot mic through which we could all communicate. I think that’s how the professionals do things when they’re in surveillance mode.”

“I don’t think I’d like it if Odelia gave me a hot mic,” said Dooley. “I think it would get very hot against my skin, and I don’t like hot things pressing against my skin.”

“A hot mic isn’t actually hot, Dooley,” I explained. “They just call it a hot mic because it’s recording all the time.”

“Oh. Then I guess it’s fine. She can give me a hot mic, so I can tell her when I see the stork.” He raised his eyes to the heavens to show me what he meant. Though apparently no storks were in evidence just then, for he kept his tongue, hot mic or not.

As luck would have it, Melanie Myers walked into the hair salon, and since the hairdresser’s cat Buster is a close friend, our operative force had just expanded to six!

Dooley and I immediately set paw inside, and slunk into a corner where we took up our vigil, remaining as inconspicuous as a blorange cat of sizable proportions and his gray ragamuffin friend can be. We shouldn’t have worried, though, for Melanie wasn’t the least bit interested in us—or the rest of her surroundings. In fact the moment she took a seat in the waiting area, and picked up a copy of Cosmo, her phone jangled and she expertly fished it out of her purse with long fingernails and clicked it to life.

“She’s very pretty,” said Dooley as he stared at our target admiringly. And indeed Mrs. Myers was very pretty. She had that statuesque thing down pat, and her sense of dress was very elegant and chic. If a woman like Melanie showed me a house, I’m pretty sure I’d immediately say yes and snap it up at any price she wanted for it. Though of course as a cat it’s hard to buy a house since we rarely carry any money on our person or even have a bank account, for that matter. Plus, banks are hesitant to give us a mortgage.

“Hello, darling,” Melanie purred into her phone as she turned her face to the window and stared out. She’d lowered her