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“You’re a little fighter, aren’t you?” said the man, who was bearded and very big. “Well, let’s get you back to where you came from, little buddy.”

Just then, though, the man suddenly uttered a loud yelp of pain, and dropped Dooley. And as he was dancing on one leg, grabbing for the other, Dooley heard a sweet, sweet sound: it was Max, and he was screaming,“Let’s go, Dooley—run!”

And then he ran, closely followed by Max, right on his tail. In the distance, they could hear the man’s dog yapping up a storm, probably unhappy he’d missed this chance.

And they’d been running for what felt like an hour when they finally stopped, hiding by the side of the road. Max was panting heavily, not really built for this kind of strenuous activity, and Dooley cried, “How did you get out?!”

“Clarice scratched the guard,” he said between two gasps of breath. “Someone opened the hatch that leads into the basement, and she jumped up and scratched whoever was up there. He vanished from view long enough for me to make my getaway.”

“Yeah, I saw that. He arrived to dump a fresh load of cats down the hatch.”

“Clarice should have scratched him much, much harder.”

“So where is she? And where are the others?”

“He caught her and threw her back into the hole. She sacrificed herself, Dooley, distracting the guy long enough for me to escape. She’s a real hero. Just like you.”

“Me? You’re the hero! You bit that guy, even though you don’t have all your teeth!”

“I have to confess it hurts a little,” said Max, tentatively moving his jaw. “But I’m not the hero, Dooley. You are. You volunteered to save all of us.”

“Actually, Clarice volunteered me.”

“Can one cat volunteer another cat? Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?”

“I don’t know what it is, but that’s what she did.”

“Whoever volunteered whom, we’re out of the dungeon now,” he said, patting Dooley on the shoulder. “So let’s find Odelia and tell her what’s going on before it’s too late.”

And thus began Max and Dooley’s long way home…

Chapter 23

Odelia and Chase had decided to team up to try and get to the bottom of this missing person business. Three people had gone missing so far, and still they were none the wiser. As far as the missing cat issue was concerned, Odelia was sufficiently satisfied with Gran’s explanation about the hunger strike. It sounded exactly like what her cats would do when they didn’t get their way. And the fact that a bunch of other people had called in and reported their cats missing didn’t necessarily have to mean anything either. Cats were independent creatures, and liked to roam around, wild and free, until they got hungry and returned to the safety of home, hearth, and food bowl.

Joining them for their investigation was Gran, of course, who felt she needed to make a contribution, and who was feeling on top of her game after her tussle with Scarlett.

“Slow the car, Chase,” said Gran suddenly, and cranked down her window. “Hey!” she yelled. “Hey, you! Yeah, I’m talking to you, cats!”

Two cats were walking down the sidewalk, surprised that a human would address them.

“Have you by any chance seen my cats?” Gran asked. “Their names are Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus. Max is big and orange, Dooley small and gray, Harriet is a white Persian and Brutus is butch and black. No? Okay, carry on, fellas.”

She retracted her head, allowing the cats to continue their journey, but then changed her mind and stuck her head out once more.“Hey! cats!”

The cats halted once again.

“A bunch of cats seem to have gone missing. Any idea where they might have gone off to? No? Ok, fine. Be that way.”

“Come on, Gran,” said Odelia with light reproach. “They can’t help it that they haven’t seen Max and the others.”

“Well, they should. If cats don’t look out for each other, who will?”

They continued their journey, and Chase said,“I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Oh, sure,” said Gran. “Just thought I’d ask, just to be on the safe side.”

They’d arrived at the house of one of the youngest lottery winners in the nation’s history, and Odelia thought it didn’t look like the house of a lottery winner at all. It was a modest little villa that seemed to date back to the seventies, and was slightly run down.

They got out and walked up the short drive to the front door, Chase taking out his police badge and Gran putting on her game face, which apparently consisted of her knitting her brows and dragging down the corners of her mouth, giving her a bulldog look. Chase pressed his finger to the buzzer and moments later a mousy-looking woman appeared. She’d obviously been crying, for her eyes were red-rimmed. Unless she’d been peeling onions she was probably upset over her missing son.

“Mrs. Pope?” said Chase, holding up his badge. “My name is Chase Kingsley. I’m with the Hampton Cove Police Department. And this is Odelia Poole, civilian consultant, and Vesta Muffin, um, also a, um, civilian consultant.”