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Meanwhile, Grace was creating her own version of a bird: just a bunch of scribbly lines on her piece of paper. But she was certainly having a lot of fun.

“How are the cats?” asked Ma. “After their terrible ordeal last night?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Odelia took them all to the vet this morning, and Vena gave them a clean bill of health. They’re pretty shaken, of course, but they’ll live.”

“Even Harriet? I understood she was forcefed about a gallon of paint.”

“That was just Harriet talking. In fact she was smart enough not to lick that paint off her paws, except the odd lick here or there, so she’ll be just fine.”

“It’s horrible how a man like that can operate under the radar for so long.”

“Yeah, they should have caught him a lot sooner.”

“At least he’s not a cat killer,” said Ma, frowning as she tried to capture the essence of Marcie Trapper, whose head had just popped up over the hedge to see what her neighbors were up to.

“No, at least there’s that,” she agreed.

Gallagher Davenport might have kidnapped numerous Persians over the course of his criminal career, but he’d always treated them well, and there was no indication that he’d shortened their lifespan. On the contrary, he loved Persians so much he’d taken great pains to pamper and spoil them. And when finally they reached the end, he’d had them stuffed, which admittedly was a weird thing to do.

“So is Tex going to continue his new career as a model?” asked Ma with a sly grin at her daughter.

Marge could see how Marcie’s ears pricked up to take in her reply, so she made sure to enunciate clearly for her neighbor’s sake. “No, he’s abandoning his career as a model altogether. Once but never again, were his exact words.”

“Oh, that’s a pity. I thought he was doing a great job. And you have to admit he still looks very good for his age.”

“Mh,” said Marge, glancing in Marcie’s direction, whose head kept moving up and down like a periscope, so as to better eavesdrop on their conversation, and undoubtedly transmit everything that was said to every single person she met.

Just then, a cheerful voice intruded upon the peace and quiet of the art session in progress.

“Yoo-hoo!” the voice caroled, and Marge didn’t even have to look up to know they’d been joined by Scarlett Canyon.

“Look what I found in town,” said Scarlett, as she produced a rather large portfolio folder, the kind that is used to safely transport drawings and the like. Marge had recently acquired one to house her own work, and so had her mother.

With a flourish, Scarlett produced a sizable painting, and when she positioned it on Marge’s easel for her better appreciation, Marge gasped in shock, even as she clutched her neck. “No!” she cried.

“Yes!” Scarlett said.

“Oh, dear,” was her mother’s response.

It was a portrait of Tex, in all his glory, lying on that stage, looking for all intents and purposes like some latter-day Adonis.

“Where did you get this!” Marge said.

“Oh, they’re selling them everywhere now,” said Scarlet excitedly. This isn’t an original, of course. Just a reproduction, but whoever made this, definitely has talent, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, they really captured Tex’s…”

“Ma!” Marge snapped.

“I was going to say Tex’s essence!”

Just then, Tex came walking into the backyard, munching a bagel. When he caught sight of the portrait, his step faltered, his jaw dropped, and so did his bagel.

“My God,” he muttered. “Oh, my God!”

“You’re a hit, Tex!” said Scarlett happily. “This is being sold everywhere.”

“No,” he said in a low voice of horror.

“Yes! They’re calling you a sex god. The new Brad Pitt. Tex Pitt, if you will.”

Tex made a sort of strangled sound, and suddenly Marge thought she heard a click. When she looked up, she just caught Marcie taking a snap of that painting with her smartphone, then quickly ducking out of sight once more.

Just before Marcie disappeared, Marge caught her big grin. The grin of a neighbor who knows she’s about to become the star of her WhatsApp group.

But then a loud scream distracted her.“Now look what she did!” Ma said, and pointed to her drawing. While they were discussing Tex’s portrait, Grace had decided to expand her territory, and had been scribbling all over Ma’s bird.

“Not bad,” said Scarlett. “You are one very talented little girl, Gracie!”

“Brap!” said Grace happily.

CHAPTER 28

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While Tex contemplated the consequences of his actions, one backyard over art was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind. Harriet, so fervent and excited to become the new reigning queen of the art world, had decided to give up painting altogether, and had taken up to lying on a lounge chair, being waited on paw and paw by Brutus, a treatment she quite enjoyed.

After receiving the good news that she wasn’t going to die, she had decided that she’d been given a new lease on life, and so had Brutus, and it was endearing to watch the two of them whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears, and generally behave as love’s young dream. Endearing, but also cloying.