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

“Nah,” I said. “Never seen her before in my life.”

“You have no idea where she goes at night?” asked Odelia.

“Not a clue,” said Mrs. Bunyon as she pressed play on a video she’d shot of her fur baby playing with a sponge. “The neighbor says he sees her walking in the direction of the park when he walks his dog, and that’s usually around eleven o’clock at night.”

“Cat choir,” I said knowingly.

“I haven’t seen her either,” said Dooley, who’d taken a long time to come to a definite position on this. “If she’s a member of cat choir she’s one of the less noticeable ones.”

Not every member of cat choir likes to stand out, of course. Some of them like to be the star of the show, like Harriet, our Persian housemate, but others simply show up and stay in the background.

“Look, I’ll see what I can do,” said Odelia with a pointed look in my direction.

I rolled my eyes. “Really?” I said. “She’s probably just wandering around having the time of her life. She’ll be back before you know it.”

“Don’t you worry, Mrs. Bunyon, I’ll find your Chouchou for you” said Odelia, widening her eyes at me.

“Oh, all right,” I said with a groan. “I’ll go look for her. But if she’s home safe and sound while we’re traipsing all over town looking for her…”

“The moment she arrives home you’ll tell me though, right?” said Odelia.

“Oh, yes, of course.” Mrs. Bunyon had clasped her hands together in a gesture of silent prayer. “You’ll find her for me, won’t you, Miss Poole? You’ll do whatever you can to bring my baby home to me?”

“Yes, absolutely,” said Odelia, making a promise I knew she was going to hand over to me as soon as Mrs. Bunyon had left—it’s called delegating and humans are experts at it.

“Thank you,” said Kathleen Bunyon. “Thank you so much!” She’d clasped Odelia’s hand and squeezed it, then vigorously shook it, almost removing it from its parent socket. “I knew I could count on you.”

The moment the woman had left, Odelia gave me and Dooley a smile. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, boys,” she said, then pointed to the door. “So chop, chop. Don’t dawdle. Go and find Chouchou.”

“We’re not dogs, Odelia,” I said with an exaggerated sigh as I got up from my perch.

“I know you’re not dogs, but you saw how devastated Mrs. Bunyon is over the disappearance of her cat. And just imagine if you guys went missing, how devastated I would be.”

“We’d never do that to you, Odelia,” said Dooley earnestly. “If we went missing we’d first tell you where we went missing to.”

“Come on, Dooley,” I said. “Let’s go and find ourselves a Chouchou.”

Chapter 2

Traipsing along the sidewalk, I must confess at that moment I had no idea the mess we’d soon find ourselves in. As I said, cats go missing all the time, and in due course they always come back. So I had no reason to assume that this time things would be different.

“Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley.

“Well, let’s first talk to Kingman,” I suggested. In our town Kingman is also the king of gossip. I’m not sure if that’s why he’s called Kingman, but he is the cat we all turn to when we need to find out what’s going on in our local little feline community.

Kingman is a very large and frankly slightly obese cat, who likes to hold forth outside his owner’s grocery store, where he enjoys both an endless supply of cat food, courtesy of Wilbur Vickery, his human, and an equally endless supply of pretty lady cats prancing by. Kingman isn’t just the king of gossip, you see, but also something of a ladies’ cat.

“Max! Dooley!” he said by way of greeting. “Just the fellas I wanted to see!”

“Hello, Kingman,” I said as I returned his hearty greeting. “What did you need us for?”

“I’ve got a favor to ask you. See, Wilbur wants back in.”

“Back in what?”

“Back in the neighborhood watch, of course. He’s been reading about how Vesta has been so successful dealing with this recent crime wave, catching bad guys all over the place, and he wants a piece of the action.” He lowered his voice as he darted a quick look at his human, busily ringing up wares for his never-ending line of customers. “Wilbur is bored to his eyeballs. And he fondly remembers his time, however brief, as a member of the watch. He feels he’s not doing enough for this town so he wants back in. What do you say?”

“What do you want me to say?” I said, not sure what it was that Kingman expected from me.

“Talk to Vesta! Tell her to let Wilbur back on the team!”

“You know Vesta, Kingman. She’ll never go for it.”

“Come on, Max, don’t be like that. You hold sway with the woman. If you ask her to let Wilbur back on the team, I’m sure she’ll give it some serious consideration.”

Frankly, I wasn’t sure that letting Wilbur back on the watch team was such a good idea. The last time he’d been a member he’d made a real nuisance of himself.

“Oh, and you better ask her to let Francis Reilly back in, too.”

“Father Reilly wants back in, too?”

“Sure! You know that he and Wilbur are like this.” He intertwined twin nails to show us how close the shop owner and the parish priest were. It was an unlikely friendship, I must admit, since Wilbur isn’t exactly a paragon of virtue. More like a paragon of vice, the way he likes to ogle any person of the opposite sex, whether eligible or ineligible.

“Look, I’ll talk to Gran, all right?” I said. “But first you’ve got to help us, Kingman.”

“Ask me anything! Frankly, between you and me, if Vesta doesn’t take Wilbur back that man is going to drive me nuts. All he does all night is sit on his couch and whine!”

“Look, a cat has