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For the occasion Opal had decided not to use the limo—or her driver—but to use a less conspicuous mode of transportation instead. She was going to drive a bright red Mini Cooper, Harlan got behind the wheels of one of his Ferraris, while Odelia had been granted the rare privilege of selecting a car from Harlan’s extensive collection. She’d opted for a nice Fiat 500, with Gran riding shotgun, and Marge and Tex squeezing into the backseat. Alec and Chase, finally, were in the rental Toyota they’d gotten at the Grand Continental.

We cats all filed into Opal’s Mini Cooper, and then the fleet drove out of the gates and set a course for Bluff Point, where Marilyn’s fate would soon be decided.<>

Chapter 31

“It’s a real pity your human doesn’t speak our language,” I said, “or else we could have given her some instructions.”

“What instructions? She knows how to spend money,” said Prunella. “Even a million.”

“Not about spending the money,” I said, “but how to deal with this kidnapper.”

“And what would you advise her? To attack him and make sure she doesn’t get shot?”

“Not exactly. I’d advise her to stay calm and under no circumstances to provoke him.”

“Or her,” said Harriet, still adamant that Opal’s assailant was a woman.

“Why do you insist the kidnapper is a guy, Max?” asked Brutus.

“I told you. Odelia said the voice of the kidnapper sounded like a male voice.”

“Plus, only men do stupid things like try to kill a person or kidnap their best friend,” said Prunella.

“No, they don’t. There are plenty of women killers,” said Harriet, who apparently had very pronounced views on the matter.

“Just look at the statistics, Harriet,” said Prunella. “Ninety percent of the people convicted of homicide are men. Very few lady killers out there.”

“Plenty of ladykillers, though,” Brutus muttered.

“Well, I think you’re wrong,” said Harriet stubbornly. “Women can do crime just as well as men, and to think otherwise suggests a world view that’s outdated and, frankly, bigoted, Prunella. Anything men do, women can do better—even crime. So there.”

“They can, but they don’t, because as a rule women are much smarter than men.”

“No, they’re not!” said Harriet, then gulped.

“Ha! Gotcha!” said Prunella, and laughed loudly.

“Oh, my darlings,” said Opal, holding on to the steering wheel with an iron grip. “I know you’re scared, but please don’t be. This will all be over soon.”

“She thinks we’re scared,” said Dooley. “Why is that, Max?”

“Because she can’t make the distinction between cats arguing and cats yowling in anguish,” I said.

“Look, just hide in the back,” said Opal. “From the moment we arrive, just stay low and don’t show yourselves. I’m not going to give this bad person an excuse to shoot you.”

Just then, her phone sang out Chickie Hay’s biggest hit. ‘Wake me up,’ Chickie sang, and Opal woke up her phone by pressing the Connect button.

“Phoning and driving is very dangerous,” said Dooley.

“Shush, Dooley,” said Harriet. “It’s probably the kidnapper.”

“Yes, this is Opal?” She’d put the phone on speaker, so she could keep both hands on the wheel.

“Very sensible,” said Dooley.

“Shush already, will you?” said Harriet.

“Did you do as you were told?” the same metallic voice sounded over the phone.

“Yes, I did. I’m all alone in the car,” she said, darting a cautious look in her rearview mirror at the five of us. “And I’ve got the money.”

“Good.” And he—or she—promptly disconnected again.

“It’s not far now,” said Opal. “We’re almost there.”

She was right. Within seconds she slowed down the car, and when I took a peek through the window I saw we’d arrived at what looked like the surface of the moon: only rocks were visible, and it was very dark out, with a sliver of moon lending some measure of illumination.

“Looks pretty creepy out there,” I remarked.

“Keep your head down, Max!” said Brutus. “You don’t want to get shot, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” I admitted, and retracted my head.

Opal stopped the car and got out, dragging her bulky bag full of cash along with her.

I couldn’t resist the temptation so I stuck my head up again. What good was it to tag along like this if we couldn’t help Opal and try to identify this horrible person?

She’d left the car door open, so I snuck out.

“Max!” said Harriet. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a closer look!” I hissed.

Behind me, Dooley followed in my wake, and so did Prunella and then, finally, Harriet and Brutus.

A car stood parked about fifty yards from Opal’s, its beams turned up high. It was hard to make out the figure standing next to the car, but as we made a circular movement and approached him or her, I could see that there were actually two figures. Moving even closer, I saw that one was Marilyn and the other was…

“Is that a man or a woman?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t know. He or she is wearing a mask,” I said.

They were also dressed in black from head to toe, and holding something that looked like a gun.

“Drop the bag!” the kidnapper shouted.