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Dooley was right. If Uncle Alec allowed his libido to take control, it would cause him to make a mess of his life and his career. A regular pileup of epic proportions.

I just hoped this intervention would be successful, and if it was, I was going to ask Gran to stage another intervention. This time dealing with Blanche and Bella. If anyone needed to be booted from the driver’s seat, it was that sinister twosome.

Chapter 39

Tex was feeling a little nervous about leaving the house for this family intervention thing. With his precious painting in the shed, and the thieves still at large, he didn’t like to leave the house unguarded. Then again, nobody knew the Metzgall was in his garden shed, and no thief, even the most clever one, would know to search there for the valuable work of art.

“I don’t believe this,” said Marge as she checked her appearance in the bedroom mirror. “You would think that my brother is old and wise enough not to act like a hormonal teenager.”

“He must be deeply infatuated with the woman,” said Tex as he glanced through Jerome Metzgall’s website to see if he didn’t have another gnome for sale at a reasonable price. It would be nice if Big Gnome #21 had a little brother or sister to keep him company back there in that shed. The nights could really get lonely out there.

“He can be infatuated all he wants, but he shouldn’t neglect his duties to this town and its citizens,” said Marge sternly.

“I’m sure it’s just a phase,” said Tex as he studied a particularly jolly female gnome. The price tag was a little too steep for his budget, though.

“A phase he should have grown out of when he left puberty behind. What are you doing?”

“Oh, just checking the news,” said Tex, a little guiltily. This newfound hobby of his clearly didn’t carry his wife’s approval.

“Looking at gnomes again, are you?” said Marge, unfailingly putting her finger on the nub.

“How did you know?” he asked, looking from his phone to Marge. “Are you psychic now?”

Marge smiled.“When it comes to you, yes I am, husband dear. Please don’t buy another one of those horrible paintings.”

“It’s an investment,” he insisted stubbornly. “You buy them now, and sell them tomorrow and double your investment, or even triple it.”

“I very much doubt whether anyone would be so crazy to spend that much money on a painting of a gnome, honey.” She gave him the kind of look a parent would give a dimwitted child. A mixture of affection and exasperation. “Except you, of course.”

“Do you think he’s safe back there?” he asked, glancing through the window in the direction of the shed.

“Oh, I think he’s perfectly safe,” said Marge. She’d already voiced her opinion that no burglars would bother to steal Big Gnome #21 but he wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly Vesta stuck her head in the door.“What’s the holdup? Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” And retracted her head again.

“I guess we’re going,” said Tex.

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Marge with a sigh.

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Since the cat contingent hadn’t been invited to the intervention, we decided to head out and hit the town instead.

It had been an eventful day, and we needed the distraction. But then before we could get going, suddenly Tex dropped by the house, glanced left and right, then knelt down next to me and whispered,“Max, I know you can understand what I’m going to tell you, because I’ve seen my wife and my daughter and my mother-in-law do it a million times, and I hope they haven’t been pulling my leg all these years.” He took a deep breath, gazed into my eyes and said, “Can you keep an eye on BigGnome #21 for me? I know that Marge thinks no thief will want to steal it, but I’m not so sure. He does represent an investment of no less than twenty-five thousand dollars, and even though he’s insured with a reputable firm, I’d feel much better if I knew you were here to make sure nobody took him.” He glanced up again, making sure nobody overheard him talking to a cat, then leaned in and said, “Thanks, little buddy.” And gave me a quick pet across the cranium.

I stared at the man as he scuttled off, presumably to follow the rest of the family for the big intervention.

“What did he say, Max?” asked Dooley, who’d watched from a little distance.

“He wants me to guard Big Gnome #21,” I said.

“Who’s Big Gnome #21?”

“The painting Tex bought.”

“Why does he want you to watch it? It’s not very nice to look at.”

“He wants me to make sure nobody steals it,” I specified.

“Oh,” said Dooley, and took this in, just as I was taking it in. “Well, I guess we’re staying home tonight,” he said finally, showing me what a friend he truly was.

He could have said,‘Max, you take care of the painting of the ugly gnome while I go and have a great time at cat choir.’ But no, he decided to stay home with me. What a pal!

“Where is this Big Gnome #21?” he asked next.

“In the garden shed, remember? Marge didn’t want it in the house.”

“Why? Isn’t it house-trained?”

I chuckled at this.“No, I guess not.”

“Poor Marge. First garden gnomes and now paintings of garden gnomes.”