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Soon we arrived home, and but instead of heading into our own house, we moved into the house of Tex and Marge instead, and as Dooley filled me in on the new state of affairs, I found myself curling up at the foot of Tex and Marge’s bed, which had now been occupied by Odelia and Chase. Humans. Hard to keep up with their crazy stunts, right?

But I was sure glad to be home again, even if I’d lost a couple of gnashers in the process. I even got to snuggle up to Odelia. And then, right before I dozed off, she said, “I’m glad you’re back, Maxie,” and I nodded happily. And then she added, as she closed her eyes, with me tucked into her armpit. “Tomorrow we’ll start you on your diet.”

Oh, God. And here I’d hoped she would have forgotten all about that!

Chapter 9

The next morning life had returned to normal. Hampton Cove woke up, its population going about its business as usual. Marge, for one, had decided to throw a nice dinner that night, now that Max was home again, and decided, as usual, to invite her brother Alec to the feast. She secretly hoped that throughout dinner tensions between her husband and Gran would somehow be resolved, and that the good doctor and his recalcitrant mother-in-law could amicably settle their differences and reach some truce.

In fact she’d hoped that conclusion could have been reached the night before, but even though she’d left her brother numerous messages on his phone, he hadn’t returned any of them—or even see them, for that matter. Usually whenever Gran was acting up, Alec was the one who could sit her down and make her see reason, or work out a compromise that made everybody happy.

Marge didn’t give it much thought, though. Alec had probably been watching a game on TV and had left his phone in his jeans pocket. He’d see her messages and call her as soon as he arrived at the police station.

Since the library only opened at eleven on Wednesdays, she still had time to put in some grocery shopping, and today had decided to drop by that local institution: the Duffer Store, that famous butcher shop. Known for its high-quality meat and especially for its sausages, the Duffer Store had been a mainstay in Hampton Cove for decades. Founded by the current owners’ grandfather, then passed into the hands of the next generation and after that into the current, it was still doing gangbuster business.

The shop’s reputation had spread far and wide over the years, and it now attracted customers from all across the Hamptons, who often came into town with the express purpose of buying one of those famous Duffers: the family’s trademark salami. The recipe had been kept a secret for three generations, andthe saucisse was so famous it had won culinary prizes from every culinary magazine and institution in existence.

Marge didn’t often favor the store, as its prices were as exorbitant as its reputation was wide-spread. But on special occasions like today, and to mellow Vesta’s mood and make her more amenable to compromise, she decided to splurge on the Duffer salami.

The delicatessen and butcher shop was packed, as usual, and she took a number from the number dispenser near the door, then glanced at the meat display, where an assortment of the most delicious meats and cold cuts were laid out. The store had been updated numerous times throughout its long history, and now looked modern and light and airy, a delight and an invitation to shop. When it was finally her turn, she ordered three Duffers, and was surprised when the man behind the counter, whom she recognized as Colin Duffer himself, said that regretfully he couldn’t fulfill her order.

“No Duffers?” she asked in a small voice. Disappointment made her feel weak-kneed. She still had one Duffer left in the fridge, if she remembered correctly, but with six adults around the dinner table, and four cats, that single Duffer would be gone in a flash.

“I’m afraid not,” said Colin’s brother Chris, walking in from the back. A skinny man with a funny little tuft of red hair on top of his scalp, Chris was small and diffident, while his brother Colin was large, boisterous and had a big head of frizzy black hair.

“We hope to have a fresh selection of Duffers in two weeks,” said Colin.

“But… how can you be out of Duffers?” she asked.

“Yeah, how can the Duffers be out of Duffers?” asked the customer immediately behind Marge. She recognized her as Bambi Wiggins, their mailwoman.

“I’m afraid we are a victim of our popularity,” said Chris, spreading his arms in a gesture of apology. “We’ve been selling so much product lately that we can’t keep up.”

“You have to understand this is still a mom-and-pop operation,” said Colin. “It’s just Chris and myself, and not a big conglomerate that produces the salamis in China or the Middle East and then brings them into the country in large containers. No, we do everything ourselves. We cure the meat, produce the salamis, and sell them ourselves, or prepare the shipments. It’s a long and dedicated process to produce the famous Duffer.”