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“—and me!” Scarlett chimed in, displaying a wide smile that looked just a little unnatural, I thought. Or it could be that Scarlett never smiles, figuring it only adds to collagen loss and possible skin damage she can’t afford at her age.

Charlene still wasn’t fully on board, I could tell. “So… you’re offering me your cats. Why, exactly?”

“Because… I want to welcome you into the family, honey,” said Gran. “And what better way of welcoming you into the family than by offering you these two sweet fellas?”

“It’s a Poole family tradition,” Scarlett intimated, seeing how Gran was struggling and deciding to step in. “Whenever one of the Pooles gets married, cats exchange hands. It’s the way things have always been done—isn’t that right, Vesta?”

“Absolutely.”

Charlene glanced down at Dooley and me, who just sat there looking as sweet as we could. And house-trained, of course, which was a given.

“But… I’ve never owned a cat in my life,” said Charlene with a nervous little laugh. “I’m more of a dog person, really.”

“That’s all right,” said Gran, waving a magnanimous hand. “We all make mistakes. Now are you just going to stand there or are you going to give them a big welcome? I don’t hand my cats over to just anyone, you know. This is a big thing for me, Charlene.”

“Oh, no, of course, of course,” said Charlene, and crouched down next to me, then seemed at a loss at how exactly to proceed.

“Giving them a tickle behind the ears would be a good start,” said Gran censoriously.

So Charlene gave me a tickle behind the ears and I dutifully purred. It wasn’t a great tickle, mind you, but then cats can be great actors, so I just hammed it up a little: I dropped on the floor, rolled over like a dog, and even let her tickle my tummy.

Charlene smiled.“He’s pretty sweet, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is,” said Gran. “Now do the other one. Get a feel for them.”

And so Charlene repeated the procedure with Dooley, who mimicked my movements, and soon we were both lying on our backs for a tummy rub.

“I don’t know about you, Max,” said Dooley after a moment. “But I feel very silly.”

“I know, Dooley,” I said. “I feel very silly, too.”

“Thanks, Vesta,” said Charlene a little awkwardly. “Thank you so much.”

And suddenly she burst into tears!

Chapter 11

“So sweet of her to get so emotional over your gift,” said Scarlett once they were back in the car.

“Yeah, I hadn’t expected her to start blubbering like a baby,” Vesta said. “But don’t let that distract you from the mission, honey. She could very well have been playing us.”

“Her tears looked real to me. And trust me, I know fake tears when I see them.”

Vesta smiled. Scarlett knew what fake tears looked like because she’d probably employed the method herself on more than one occasion in the past, and knew how effective it was. “Did you manage to plant those bugs?”

“Yeah, I put one behind the bed, one behind the toilet and one in her home office.”

“I distributed the rest around the living room,” said Vesta. “So we should be good.”

“Let’s give it a test run,” said Scarlett, sounding upbeat and happy after a successful mission pulled off without a hitch.

And as Vesta steered the car in the direction of Town Hall, Scarlett fiddled with her tablet for a moment, then suddenly Charlene’s voice sounded through the car loud and clear.

“I don’t have cat kibble for you guys,” the Mayor was saying, “but I do have some turkey. Do you eat turkey?”

“Does a fish swim in the ocean?” grunted Vesta. “She really doesn’t know the first thing about cats, does she?”

“What are you going to tell her when you take Max and Dooley out of there again?”

“I’ll make something up. Maybe tell her I miss my babies too much and I underestimated how important they are to me.”

“I think we did a pretty good job back there, pardner,” said Scarlett, and held up her hand for a high-five.

“Damn near perfect job, pardner,” said Vesta, and reciprocated the high-five with a high-five of her own. “Except for the lock picking. I feel like we should practice some more.”

“And here is the perfect opportunity,” said Scarlett as they entered the Town Hall parking lot and found themselves staring up at the modest one-story building.

“We better wait until it’s dark,” said Vesta. “Breaking into Charlene’s house is one thing, but breaking into Town Hall is a different kettle of fish entirely.” Especially since Town Hall, contrary to Charlene’s home, was probably equipped with an alarm. Too bad her son wasn’t answering his phone, or she could have asked him for the combination.

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Charlene stared down at the two cats, who were both staring up at her intently, as if expecting her to do something, or to say something, or whatever.