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Brutus gestured with his head to a small object that seemed to depict a goat or sheepherder. It had been placed on top of a piecrust table, a single spotlight bathing it in light.

“That thing?” she asked, incredulous. “That’s what all the fuss is about?”

“Looks like,” said Brutus. “It’s worth a small fortune but Marge doesn’t want to sell it and Gran does.” He lowered his voice, even though the humans weren’t paying attention and there were no other cats around. “It’s rumored to be worth millions. Marge discovered it in the kitchen cupboard when a spider jumped out at her.”

Harriet shivered.“Eww. I don’t like spiders.”

“Who does?” said Brutus. “Though they’re rumored to be very useful creatures.”

“They can be useful somewhere else,” said Harriet, as she studied the goatherder with renewed interest. “So that little thing is causing all the trouble, is it?” she asked.

Brutus nodded, and placed his head on his paws.“Yah, they’re not talking, looks like.”

Not talking and not paying her any attention. Harriet quickly made up her mind, and decided there was only one course of action open to her. So she jumped off the couch, and sashayed over to where the piecrust table was placed, and as she passed, she expertly flicked her tail in the direction of the figurine. The small object toppled over and was sent crashing to the floor. It landed and broke into little pieces, eliciting a small smile of triumph from Harriet and cries of horror from both Gran and Marge.

“Harriet!” Marge cried. “What did you dooooooo?!”

“Oops,” said Harriet casually, and returned to her couch. “Now let’s see them ignore me,” she muttered to her mate, who had to suppress a smile.

“Oh, Marge, you should have listened to me and sold the thing!” said Gran.

“Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?” her daughter snapped.

“Maybe we can glue it back together?” Gran suggested.

“It wouldn’t be the same,” said Marge as she knelt down and hovered over the remains of what was once a valuable objet d’art.

“I don’t understand,” said Gran. “Harriet is usually so careful. And now this.”

They both directed a confused glance at the prissy Persian, who took it in her stride, staring right back at them, cool as a cucumber and not even batting an eye.

“What’s that?” suddenly asked Marge, pointing at something amid the rubble.

“It’s a ring,” said Gran, which had Harriet look up in surprise, and even stirred Tex.

“What is it?” he asked, finally abandoning his stupid movie and joining the others.

“There was a ring inside the figurine,” Marge said, and held up the tiny trifle. It glittered in the bright light of the spot lamp. “It looks valuable,” she added, causing Harriet to mutter, “Oh, darn. Not again.”

“Lemme see,” said Tex, and took the ring from his wife’s hand and held it up to the light. “We’ll soon find out,” he murmured, taking out his phone and pointing it at the ring. He snapped a shot, then waited for a moment. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said.

“What is it?” asked Marge and Gran as they crowded around the doctor.

He turned his phone and Harriet watched two more jaws drop. Now she was getting really curious, too.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

But much to her annoyance the humans ignored her once more.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she said, and glanced around for other tables to upset or priceless objects to crash to the floor. People kept ignoring her at their own peril.

Unfortunately she didn’t immediately see any more targets for destruction, and then finally Marge seemed to awake from her stupor sufficiently to turn to her and Brutus and say, “It’s the famous Gardner ring—the ring Vicky Gardner got from her husband Quintin.”

“Whose ring?” asked Brutus.

“Vicky Gardner,” Harriet repeated Marge’s words, even though they meant little to her.

“Who is Vicky Gardner?” asked Brutus, and rightly so, Harriet thought.

But Marge and Gran were reading something on Tex’s phone, and it was obvious that it would be some time before their attention could be snagged away from the darn thing.

“And how did this ring get inside the figurine of a goatherd?” asked Brutus.

“More to the point,” said Harriet, “how did the figurine get inside Marge’s kitchen cupboard?”

Chapter 6

The day had been a scorcher, and the night, instead of bringing the much-desired coolness, looked like it was going to be a hot one, too.

Chase, not being able to find some necessary cool indoors, decided to sit outside for a while, and stick his feet into the inflatable pool he bought for the cats—though if he were absolutely honest he’d gotten it for himself first and foremost—just for this occasion.

He’d brought out his phone so he could surf a little, and had dragged up a lawn chair. But as he stuck his feet into his latest acquisition, he discovered much to his dismay that there was no water to be found, cool or otherwise.

He glanced down at the little pool, and saw that the lawn around it was soggy to a degree, meaning the inflatable pool had sprung a leak.