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“Except if you’re a gangster rapper,” said Tex, expertly flipping a burger patty and sending it sailing straight into the bushes.

“Tex is right,” said Chase as he walked up to the grill and graciously took the tongs from Tex. “Gangster rappers want to be arrested. It’s good for their street cred.”

Tex, who’d picked up the patty and was now checking it for ants and dirt, said, “We’ve actually been thinking about incorporating a rap routine into our show. Rap is all the rage now, so we might as well take advantage and appeal to a younger demographic.”

Gran tolled her eyes. Ever since her own career had tanked, she didn’t want to hear about how well The Singing Doctors were doing. Tex was still only playing local gigs, but then he’d never had any ambitions of doing anything else. He enjoyed hanging out with his two friends and had fun making music. Stardom was the last thing on their minds.

“I’m just glad you didn’t get shot, honey,” said Marge, who’d placed a large bowl of potato salad on the table. “When I heard that Nickie had a gun in her dresser drawer…”

“She would never have used that gun,” said Odelia.

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Uncle Alec, who’d opened a bottle of beer and now took a swig. “She told us she actually thought about fleeing the scene when you walked in on her, but when she realized police were there, she dropped the idea. Said dying in a hail of bullets didn’t appeal to her all that much. So you were lucky, Odelia. Very lucky.”

Odelia gulped a little at that, and so did the four of us.

“So Odelia was in actual danger, Max?” asked Dooley.

“Looks like it,” I said.

“We should have been there,” said Harriet, tsk-tsking freely. “Why didn’t she take us along for this big confrontation? We could have saved her if things turned nasty.”

“And how would you have done that?” I asked. “If someone pulls a gun on you, how would you stop them?”

“Easy. I would jump on top of them and dig my claws and teeth in,” said Harriet.

“I would throw myself in front of the bullet,” said Brutus, puffing out his chest. “Anything to save my human from harm.”

“Would you throw yourself in front of a bullet to save Odelia, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t know, Dooley,” I said. “It’s one of those things you don’t know until they happen to you.”

“Nonsense,” said Brutus. “I know for a fact I would do it, no doubt about it.”

“And yet I don’t think you would, Brutus,” I said. “When the moment arrives, I think it’s a rare cat that would happily take a bullet for their human.”

“Dogs would do it,” said Dooley. “Dogs would take a bullet for their human.”

We all thought about this for a moment. There was a lot of truth in what Dooley said.

Then Brutus grumbled,“Yeah, but we all know that’s because dogs are too dumb to realize the consequences of their actions. Act first, think later is the dog’s way.”

“True,” Harriet said. “Dogs probably think the bullet is a fly they need to catch.”

We all laughed at this. Well, it’s true, isn’t it? The reason dogs jump at the chance to catch bullets for their humans is simply because they don’t realize bullets are dangerous things that can do actual damage.

Thus reassured that dogs are, in fact, the inferior species, we all greeted Odelia with cheers when she brought us some fresh burger patties, straight from Tex’s—now Chase’s—grill. And as we all tucked in, Dooley said, “I still feel sorry I put Jamie in jail.”

“Oh, Dooley!” Harriet cried. “Not again with the whole Jamie thing.”

“But it was my fault she was arrested, and I can’t help feeling bad about it.”

“I think that time spent in jail was probably the best thing that ever happened to Jamie,” I said, patting my friend on the back. “Besides, I thought that letter was the real deal, too, remember? So this is my fault, too.”

He gave me a hopeful look.“You really think so, Max?”

“Of course. I told you to go and give that letter to Gran.”

“No, about spending time in jail being good for Jamie.”

“Of course. A good artist needs to suffer. Because of you, Jamie is a better artist now.”

“Not sure she feels the same way,” Brutus muttered.

“And I’m sure she does,” said Harriet, giving me a wink.

Dooley had perked up considerably at this, and was now eating his burger with relish.“You know?” he said finally, munching happily, “maybe we should tell Uncle Alec that Gran committed murder. That way she’ll become a better artist, too. She’ll like that.”

“Um…” I said, alarmed.

“And how about Tex! He sure could use the encouragement. In fact why don’t we tell the Chiefall of the singing doctors are nasty, vicious killers? They’ll be so, so grateful!”

“Um, Dooley, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said.

“Why? Gran wants to be a star, and this might put her over the top. And Tex, too.”

“Gran and Tex want to belocal stars, not international ones like Jamie. So they don’t need that big push that Jamie received when she was arrested.”