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“But isn’t that dangerous?” said Dooley, wide-eyed. “A burglar could get in.”

She laughed.“Oh, Dooley. I think I can take that chance. After all, there hasn’t been a burglary in this neighborhood in years. Besides, I’ll come and close the window before I leave for work.”

And with these words she let me and Dooley out, and then closed the door, but not before opening the glass sliding door to the living room a crack.

And then Dooley and I were on our way, a new investigation to sink our teeth into, and a reprieve from our old assignment, which Odelia seemed to have forgotten about.

“No more mice to get rid of, Max,” said Dooley happily, having reached the same conclusion.

“And a good thing, too,” I said.

We bumped paws, and then we were off, ready to tackle this newest assignment.

Chapter 4

“I’m not so sure about this, Jerry,” said Johnny Carew, leaning across the steering wheel of the van and looking out at the house they were currently staking out.

“You don’t have to be sure, you moron,” said his friend and partner in crime Jerry Vale. “As long as I’m sure that’s what matters.”

“Uh-huh,” said Johnny. He was a bear of a man, while Jerry looked more like a scrawny chicken. They’d been friends and colleagues for a very long time.

“Can you explain the plan to me again?” asked Johnny. “I think I missed something.”

“You didn’t miss something,” growled Jerry, who was in a foul mood. “You probably missed everything. Look, if we’re gonna do this, we need to know what the cops are like in this godforsaken town, all right?”

“Uh-huh,” said Johnny, taking this information and storing it in his brain, such as it was.

“So we pull off a minor B&E and see how fast the local fuzz gets here, see?”

“Yup,” said Johnny. “But what if they get here real fast, Jer? What if they get here so fast they catch us and throw our ass in jail? I don’t wanna go back to jail, Jer. Nuh-uh.”

“They won’t throw our ass in jail. Not for a minor little thing like this. And even if we get caught, which is unlikely, because nobody cares about some shitty little house in a shitty little neighborhood like this with so many multi-million-dollar mansions to protect, we can always tell ‘em we thought it was our own place and we made a mistake.”

“You think they’ll buy that?”

“If the local fuzz are as dumb as I think they are? Sure.”

“I still wish Chazz hadn’t kicked us out, Jer.”

“Yeah, well, that can’t be helped, Johnny. The big guy did what he thought was right, and I’m sure he’s already sorry he acted so rash.”

“You really think so, Jer? You think he’s sorry he canned us?”

“Sure! We were the best he got! And even more than that, we shared a bond.”

“We did. We really did.”

Chazz Falcone, the man they used to work for, was one of the richest men in the country, known for his real estate deals and the empire he built in his home town of New York. Johnny and Jerry had worked for the guy for so long they considered Chazz family. At first they’d been hired muscle to put the squeeze on stubborn tenants who needed to get muscled out of the buildings Chazz bought for a bargain so he could tear them down and build one of his high-rise monoliths. They’d graduated to important positions on Chazz’s staff when the latter had decided to run for president, and when that hadn’t worked out, Johnny had become Chazz’s dog handler, and Jerry the man’s dietician.

Unfortunately Johnny and Jerry were old crooks who had a hard time keeping to the straight and narrow, so when the opportunity presented itself to dip their hands into the company till, they hadn’t held back and had dipped with abandon and obvious glee.

Chazz hadn’t been happy when he found out and had immediately terminated their employment. And since they’d been forced to pay back every penny they pinched, they now found themselves on a road they thought they’d left behind: graciously allowing other, more law-abiding citizens, to pay for their way of life. And because the Hamptons were a place they knew well, and where a lot of money was located on an area the size of a postage stamp, they now found themselves back on their old stomping ground.

They watched as a car drew up to the house next to the one they were targeting, and when a fat man stepped out carrying a small suitcase, Jerry said,“Looks like a doctor.”

“Yeah, has to be a doctor,” Johnny agreed.

“Weird, though, right? People have been coming and going in the place next door, but ours hasn’t seen any sign of life yet. At least if you don’t count the two cats that came hotfooting it out from behind it.”

“I like cats,” said Johnny. “I think cats are a good sign, Jer. A good omen.”

Jerry muttered something about what he thought of omens and where Johnny could stick them. He hunkered down in his seat and watched the house with eyes half-closed.

“So when do we strike, Jer?” asked Johnny, rubbing his hands. Now that he’d decided this was a pretty solid plan, he couldn’t wait to get started.