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Odelia and Chase talked deep into the night, but I didn’t let it keep me from enjoying a refreshing slumber. So when I did finally awake, I found that both my humans had drifted off to sleep, and only one pair of eyes was staring at me in wonder. I had no problem attributing the inquisitive peepers to my friend Dooley, who obviously had been awake for quite a little while.

“What’s wrong, Dooley?” I asked, yawning and stretching. “Why are you up?”

“You are the soundest sleeper I know, Max,” he said reverently.

“I know,” I said. “I like sleeping.”

“You really sleep the sleep of the dead.”

“I’m not sure I like that particular simile.”

“For a moment there? I thought you were really dead. You weren’t dead, were you, though, Max?”

“If I was dead I’d still be dead right now. Being dead is not a temporary affliction, Dooley. In most cases it’s permanent.”

“People have come back from the dead,” he argued.

“Yeah, but they usually had to be brought back by an able team of medical professionals and quite a few shocks to the system. Spontaneously dying and then equally spontaneously reviving would be akin to a medical miracle.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead, Max.”

“That makes two of us. So what’s up? Can’t sleep?”

“I thought I heard a noise.”

I turned my antenna-like ears in the direction he was indicating. He was right. There was a noise, and it seemed to be coming from the wall dividing this room from the next, where Gran was presumably sleeping soundly.

“Could be Gran snoring,” I said.

“Or Brutus.”

“Does Brutus snore?”

“He does.” He giggled. “The funniest little snuffles.”

We both jumped down from the bed and padded over to the wall. I put one ear against it and listened intently.

“It doesn’t sound like snoring,” I finally determined. “More like… munching.”

“Maybe Gran grinding her teeth?”

“Could be if she had teeth.”

“She doesn’t?”

“She does, but she puts them in a cup every night.”

“That would probably prevent her from grinding them.”

“It would.”

“Could be mice,” I finally determined. Chewing in the middle of the night? Either mice or rats. Now I was totally intrigued. So I hunkered down and saw there was a crack underneath the baseboard. And since cats will be cats, I inserted a nail and started pulling. That’s what we like to do: welike to dig our nails in and tug and see what happens.

“I’ll bet it’s mice,” I said.

“Or a secret door to a secret room.”

Doubtful, but I could tell Dooley was more excited about the prospect of a secret room than a family of mice so I said,“Now wouldn’t that be cool?”

“The coolest!” Dooley said, and followed my lead.

The secret door, if that was what it was, didn’t budge, though. It probably was locked and needed a key or some secret ritual to open it all the way. And if it was mice, as I suspected, they’d found the perfect hiding place: one where even cats couldn’t reach.

“What’s going on, you guys?” asked a sleepy voice from the bed.

“Oh, just that we’ve discovered a secret door,” Dooley said casually.

This made Odelia sit up right away and flick on the bedside lamp.

“What’s happening?” muttered a sleepy Chase. “Why are we getting up?”

“The cats have discovered a secret door.”

“Secret door? What is this? A Nancy Drew story?”

Odelia had padded over barefoot and now crouched down next to us. She rubbed her finger along the crack.“Looks like you’re right. But how to open it?”

“We’ve been trying,” said Dooley, “but they must have locked it really tight.”

“Has to be a way to open it somehow,” said Odelia, her fingers gently exploring the surface of the alleged secret door.

Chase, who’d reluctantly thrown off the blanket of sleep and also his actual blanket, joined us. “Lemme see,” he said. He studied the wall for a moment, then poked his finger at a part of the wallpaper depicting a flower bud. There was a click and a whirr, and suddenly the door swung open!

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Odelia, appropriately impressed.

“Magic finger,” Chase announced proudly.

Odelia opened the door further and we found ourselves staring into a darkened space. We all popped our heads in to take a look-see. In the dark, I could see a small hairy form run for cover. It was a mouse. Our mysterious muncher. I decided not to tell the others. At heart, I’m a peace-loving cat.

“A secret corridor,” said Chase. “Thisis a Nancy Drew story.”

“Or a Hardy Boys story,” Odelia allowed.

Whatever it was, we’d made the most astonishing discovery.

“You know what this means, right?” I said.

They all looked at me. Even Chase, who seemed to have developed a sudden fascination for our thoughts and suggestions.

“This must be how the killer got into Kimberlee’s room!”

Chapter 33

“You know what? I think you’re right, Max,” said Odelia.

“Of course I’m right,” said Max.

“Is he saying this is how the killer got into Kimberlee’s room?” asked Chase.

“How did you—can you suddenly understand my cats?” asked Odelia, stunned.

“No, but it seems like the logical conclusion for the locked room mystery. This is the only way the killer—if there was a killer—could have snuck into the room.”