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Presumably Solange’s husband, he thought. He then shrugged and decided to skedaddle. James Bond would have interpreted the fascination of a woman for her own husband as a challenge and would have redoubled his efforts of seduction. James would also have discovered a secret lair underneath the trailer, with a hidden access panel, and he would most probably have been attacked by a one-armed assassin with a gold tooth and a pronounced limp protecting said lair, but then Norm’s life was a lot less exciting.

All he’d found were myriad pictures of a rockabilly dude with a weird haircut.

And as he buzzed out through an open window, he hovered over the fairground, gaining some altitude, before buzzing down again when he spotted Max and Dooley.

When he related his recent adventures they were as disappointed as he was.

This investigation wasn’t going anywhere fast, that much was obvious. But at least they’d all escaped with their lives, and that was something to be thankful for.

Chapter 33

As we left the fairground, both Dooley and I feeling a little dejected, we were soon joined by Norm, and as we walked on and he filled us in on what he’d discovered—nothing—we came across two familiar figures in the form of Harriet and Brutus.

“Are you going to see Madame Solange?” I asked. “If so, don’t bother.” And I told them what we’d found—a cat-hating fortune teller and plenty of pictures of Rockabilly Dude—also known as Wolf, Solange’s husband.

Harriet and Brutus both looked a little disappointed by this, and so we soon started our long trek home, to report to Odelia what we’d found—a big, fat nothingburger!

And we would have had only this disappointing news to share if we hadn’t suddenly come across a disheveled woman wandering about in the fields that separated the fairground from the first houses of Hampton Cove. For this woman was none other than Marge!

“Marge!” said Dooley.

Marge looked up in surprise.“Oh, hey, Dooley,” she said, giving us a slightly bewildered look. She was missing her shoes, for some reason, and her hair was a mess.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” said Dooley, observant as usual.

Marge glanced down at her feet as if seeing them for the first time.“You’re right,” she said after a moment, “and they were new shoes, too.” She directed a confused look back at the fairground, whose Ferris wheel and rollercoaster could easily be seen. We could even hear the merry screams of fun of people being jerked around and loving every minute of it.“Um, where am I?” she asked then, a clear sign not everything was as it should be in the world of Marge Poole.

“Did you visit the fair?” I asked, gesturing to the Ferris wheel going round and round.

My human’s mom frowned and said, “I think so—I’m not sure.” She touched her head, and rubbed it. “My head hurts,” she announced.

“So did you lose them?” asked Harriet. “Your shoes?”

“Um… yeah—looks like I did.” She frowned some more. “I wonder what happened.”

“Let’s get you home,” Harriet suggested, and started to lead the way in the direction of home and hearth. Marge followed, looking as dazed as I’d ever seen her.

“You know, I think I was going to do something, and then I didn’t… I think,” she said vaguely, and we all shared a look of concern. Marge clearly wasn’t well.

“Did you visit the fairground?” I asked again, hoping to stir a memory.

“Uh-huh. Probably.”

“Oh, dear,” said Harriet.

And we’d walked a while on a nice asphalt road, which Marge must have enjoyed, for a barefooted human isn’t exactly used to traversing the rough undergrowth us cats are used to navigating, when suddenly a car pulled over and rolled down its window and Odelia’s head popped out and she yelled, “Mom! Where have you been!”

And so moments later we were all inside Odelia’s pickup, four cats lounging relaxedly in the backseat while Marge took up the front seat, still gazing before her with that slightly dazed look in her eyes.

“What happened?” asked Odelia once she’d put the car in gear and we were tootling along the road into town.

“I… don’t know, exactly,” said Marge. “I can’t seem to recall.”

“You remember we went to see Madame Solange, though, right?” said Odelia, looking extremely concerned at the state her mom was in.

“Um… no, I don’t think I do.” But then Marge’s face cleared. “Though now that you mention it… I did visit Madame Solange and she told us we’d win the lottery soon, and go on that nice cruise that Tex is always talking about.”

“That was when you and Dad saw Solange, Mom. But you and I paid her visit just now, remember? To ask her about Uncle Alec?”

But Marge slowly shook her head.“No, I don’t think I remember that.” She glanced over to her daughter. “Are you quite sure that’s what happened, honey?”

“Of course I’m sure. We walked out of Solange’s trailer and I thought I saw a man who looked like Uncle Alec so I followed him, and then when I got back you were gone!”

“No, I don’t think that’s what happened,” said Marge. “I’m sure I’d remember.”

“Marge seems to be completely out of it,” said Brutus.