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Dooley and the others had all been taken into a large space, a little less cavernous than the warehouse they’d been kept in before, and once again had been locked up in a set of cages, albeit considerably roomier than the last ones.

“I think we’ve just been upgraded,” said Harriet, who was clearly gratified to see that in the corner of her new cage a patch of litter had been placed where she could do her business.

“So they were monitoring us,” said Brutus. “They watched our every move, and anticipated our escape.”

“Yeah, it would appear so,” said Tigger sadly.

A helping of kibble had dropped down into Dooley’s cage and he took a tentative sniff. It didn’t even smell half bad, so he took a provisory nibble.

“Yum,” he said. “You have to try this new kibble. It’s tasty.”

“I’m not hungry,” said Harriet. “All this captivity has made me lose my appetite. I think I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Stockholm Syndrome means you start getting attached to your captors,” said Missy. “Have you fallen madly in love with Fred Peppard, Harriet?”

“Um, not exactly,” she said.

“I think it’s PTSD,” said Shadow. “We’re all suffering from PTSD now. And probably will have to visit a shrink for the rest of our lives to deal with this terrible trauma.”

“No, I mean it’s really good, you guys,” said Dooley, as he gobbled up some more kibble. “I think we did the right thing by escaping. At least now they’re feeding us something edible.”

“So what is this place, exactly?” asked Brutus. “Some kind of psychological experiment?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” said Harriet. “All I care about is getting out of here.” She glanced up at the hatch through which the kibble dropped into their prison cell. “These hatches are a lot smaller than the ones in our previous cells.”

“Yeah, this time there’s no escape,” said Misty sadly.

“Almost like they wanted us to escape before,” said Shadow.

“I wonder what they want us to do this time,” said Brutus. He shoved against the bars of the cage but they didn’t budge. “Pretty solid steel cages. No way of escape this time.”

“No, but they’re really, really good,” said Dooley. “Just try. You won’t be disappointed.”

“Oh, can you stop eating already, Dooley,” said Harriet. “You make me sick with your constant chewing.”

Dooley abruptly stopped chewing, and swallowed the kibble whole. It was okay. He didn’t have to chew. He could simply gobble them down. “Yum,” he muttered. He might not have managed to escape, but there had been a marked improvement in their conditions, which was progress as far as he was concerned. He just felt for Max, who was still having to eat that nasty kibble. It wasn’t fair, he felt. It wasn’t as if Max wasn’t smart enough to escape, or fit enough. He was simply big-boned. And that wasn’t his fault.

So whoever was behind this whole thing clearly wasn’t fair. Otherwise they’d have allowed Max to escape, too, and they could have enjoyed this nice kibble together.

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Gran had decided to head down to the office. At first she’d figured that throughout her entire pregnancy she’d better stay home and rest, but since losing her camera crew, and her doctor, she was bored. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was pregnant yet. Chris still had to send in his sample, and then Doc Clam had to do whatever it was that he did.

So she grabbed her purse and stepped out. It was only a short brisk walk to the heart of town, where Tex’s doctor’s office was located, and the fresh air would do her good. She’d taken a nap after Doc Clam’s sudden departure, her earplugs in and her eye mask on, and was feeling thoroughly refreshed.

It was probably those hormone cocktails Clam had been giving her. They made her feel fit as a fiddle. If she kept this up, she’d live to be a hundred-and-fifty, and she now wondered if Clam hadn’t merely unlocked the secrets of fertility, but also of eternal life.

As she walked down the street, she was surprised to find the streets completely deserted, not a single soul in sight.

No people, kids or even mothers pushing their strollers.

She frowned as she passed the park, and saw that even there no one was around. Usually some kids could be found playing in the playground, their mothers sitting on the nearby benches busily tapping on their phones, but today there was absolutely no one.

She didn’t even see any cats or dogs, which was also unusual.

She shrugged. Probably all busy someplace else.

She arrived at the office and walked in, loudly yelling,“Tex! I’m here!”

When her son-in-law didn’t immediately respond, she shoved open the door to the inner office and found that he wasn’t behind his desk, or examining a patient. In fact there were no patients, either, and the phone wasn’t ringing off the hook as it usually did.

Huh. Weird. Tex wasn’t one to play truant. The man had his faults—many, many, many of them, in fact—but tardiness wasn’t one.