ff3a28bfbb25315bb8c90759d8632474

Because I didn’t want to watch Brutus and Harriet, I stared out at Veronica instead, but as far as I could see nothing was happening with her. She’d picked up another magazine, this one promising to expose Kim Kardashian’s beauty secrets, and from time to time she picked up her phone and tapped the screen,presumably texting her friends.

“How long is this going to take?” asked Brutus, when he and Harriet had tired of their frolicking.

“See, this is the reality of being a true detective,” I told the black cat. “Waiting around for hours and hours, hoping something will happen.”

“And hours and hours,” said Dooley.

“Booooring,” Brutus grunted. “What about some action? A car chase?”

“There are no car chases in a detective’s life,” I said. “This isn’tDie Hard, Brutus, and you’re not Bruce Willis.”

“Did you know I was named after Bruce? True story.”

“You were named after Brutus,” I said. “Not Bruce.”

“Brutus, Bruce, same difference.”

“There is a difference. Brutus was a Roman senator who conspired to kill Caesar, while Bruce is an actor known for—”

“Shush,” said Brutus.

I reared up.“Don’t shush me, Brutus.”

“Shush,” he repeated, and gestured at Veronica. I looked over and saw that she’d gotten up, texting furiously, and was walking toward the house.

“Something’s happening,” Brutus said.

“Very astute of you.”

“Probably went to fetch another magazine,” muttered Dooley.

But when Veronica didn’t return it was obvious something was up.

“We have to see what’s going on,” I said. “Which means taking a closer look.”

“Why don’t we send in a volunteer?” Brutus suggested. “I mean, if the four of us all go over there together it will look suspicious, right?”

In spite of myself, I had to agree he had a point.

“All right. I’ll go,” I said.

“No, I’ll go,” he said. “It’s my human that needs saving, so I should go.”

“Yes, but I know how to sneak up on someone without being seen.”

“And I don’t?” he scoffed. “I’m the best sneaker-upper around, buddy. Just watch me sneak.” And before I could stop him, he was off and away, sneaking toward the house, doing his best to keep his belly low to the flagged terrace, his tail down and his ears flat. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

“Doesn’t he look wonderful?” gushed Harriet. “A true detective.”

“Not really,” said Dooley.

Harriet turned on him.“What’s with all the criticism, huh? You can’t say one good word about Brutus, while he’s the most wonderful cat I know.”

“So of all the cats you know, he’s the best?” asked Dooley, annoyed.

“Yes, he is.”

“Greater than all the cats you’ve ever known? Cats you’ve lived with all your life? Cats like Max… and me?”

She hesitated, but then said,“Brutus is different.”

“Oh, I’ll say he’s different.”

“See?” she said. “Again with the criticism. You’re my friend, Dooley, so why can’t you simply be happy for me? Happy that I found my soulmate?”

He shrugged.“I am happy for you.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

I grinned when Dooley made a face behind Harriet’s back. Then I returned my attention to Brutus, who’d now reached the house and was sneaking inside, still staying low, even though anyone could spot a black cat against white pavement. Suddenly he popped his head back out and waved us over frantically. “We better get over there,” I said, quite needlessly.

“She’s leaving!” he cried when we’d joined him.

I darted a look inside, and saw he was right: Veronica, now talking animatedly into her phone, had pulled on jeans shorts and a crop top and snatched a small clutch from the table before walking out of the living room.

We quickly hurried out and followed the driveway back to the front of the house, just in time to see a taxi pull up and Veronica get in.

“What do we do now?” asked Harriet, panicking.

“Relax, toots,” said Brutus. “We just press this nifty button and warn Odelia that our target is on the move.”

“She’ll never get here in time,” I told him. “One of us has to follow that cab.”

“I’ll do it,” said Brutus. “Just like Bruce, right?”

But while we were holding a strategy meeting, the taxi was already pulling away, so in a spur of the moment kind of thing, I broke into a run.

“Hey, where are you going?!” Brutus cried.

While the car picked up speed, I jumped up onto the trunk, then onto the roof, and grasped the antenna and held on for dear life.

“Press that button!” I yelled, since I couldn’t reach it now.

“Maxie, baby!” cried Brutus. “Don’t let go!”

Well, that was certainly my intention. Maybe Brutus was right after all. Sometimes being a true detective is a little bit like being Bruce inDie Hard.

The taxi took us to the outskirts of town, and soon I saw where we were going: the strip mall where Rubb’s health food store was located. He pulled up right in front of the now closed shop, and Veronica got out of the cab.

Relieved we’d finally stopped moving, I managed to crawl down from the roof. My hair was a mess, and I think I’d swallowed more bugs than the windshield on a sixteen-ton truck. If this was what it was like to be Bruce, Brutus was welcome to him.