“The beach, maybe?” someone suggested.

  “I hate the beach,” said Brutus. “I hate getting sand between my toes. And also, there’s nowhere for the different sections to sit.”

  He was right. Like any choir worth its salt, the cat choir is divided into voice parts: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass. The sopranos and altos stand in front, with the tenors and basses behind them, slightly elevated so they can still see the conductor. The beach, unfortunately, doesn’t offer that kind of setup.

  “I guess we’ll have to move cat choir to Blake’s Field for the time being,” I said.

  There were loud grumbles, as Blake’s Field isn’t exactly the most pleasant location for any nighttime activity. But since nobody seemed to have another idea in mind, we began the long trek home—only this time we were accompanied by a few dozen of our friends.

  “We have to do something about this,” I told Shanille as we walked along. “No dog has the right to kick us out of the park.”

  “I know,” she said. “But what do you want me to do? They’re big and strong, and they seem to have the backing of the other members of dog choir.”

  “I doubt that very much,” I said. “Probably the other dogs are too afraid of Blizzard and Storm to put up much of a protest. They’re being bullied into this, just like we’re being bullied to give up our rightful place in the park.”

  “Be that as it may, Max,” said Shanille, who looked extremely distraught by all of this, “I don’t see what we can do about it. I mean, Blizzard and Storm’s human seems to be taking over this town, so even if Odelia were to protest with Mick Harper, that wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

  She was probably right. As things stood, Mick was on an upward trajectory in terms of social standing, while Odelia’s credit was going down.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I said. “This will not stand, Shanille. It won’t,” I stressed when she gave me a hopeless look.

  “You know, Blake’s Field isn’t bad,” she said. “It’s not as nice as the park, but it’s a darn sight better than any of the alternatives.”

  “What are the alternatives?” I asked.

  “We could rehearse at St. John’s Church, but I’m not sure how Father Reilly would feel about that. Or we could rehearse in a different backyard every night. You know, like a rotating schedule? But then we’d have the cats’ owners to contend with, who would probably kick us out and lock their cats in. No, Blake’s Field is a great alternative.”

  I could tell that she was trying to remain positive, but that she had a hard time seeing the bright side.

  Before long, we arrived at Blake’s Field and went in search of the perfect location for Cat Choir 2.0. We found it near the far edge of the field, where some enterprising neighbor had erected their own playground. It had a swing, a see-saw, a merry-go-round and—most importantly—a jungle gym!

  “Ooh, this is so cool!” Shanille cried as she placed her paws together. “I didn’t even know this was here!”

  “I didn’t know either,” I confessed. “Some of the neighbors must have decided to put this up—quite illegally, I must add.”

  “Illegal or not, I love it,” said Shanille.

  Before long, she was her old self again, as she started ordering people about and making sure that we were all in position.

  When she raised her paws and we all burst into song, the smile on her face was a sight for sore eyes.

  Things were tough for cat choir at the moment—or for the entire Hampton Cove cat community—but it was at times like these that I was grateful to be surrounded by my friends, and so I sang my heart out.

  Until I caught Shanille’s eye and she gestured with her paw for me to take it down a notch.

  In my excitement, for a moment there I’d forgotten I can’t sing, and that Shanille prefers for me to do whatever it is that I do as quietly as possible.

  And so I adjusted my volume, turning it down a notch or two or even three.

  Even though I can’t sing, the fact that I still had a place in cat choir proves what a great community we really are.

  Before long, the first shoe whizzed through the air and hit me in the back of the head.

  Cat choir was back—in a new location, with renewed zeal and a fresh set of shoe-throwing neighbors!

  CHAPTER 27

  The next morning, bright and early, all of us were in Kurt and Gilda’s backyard for another invigorating yoga session. Odelia and Chase were there, and Marge and Tex, and also Gran and Grace.

  And since a good thing can’t help but go viral in this day and age, Scarlett had also decided to show up, along with her cat Clarice—and so had Uncle Alec and Charlene.

  A certain frostiness hung in the air between Gran and her son, and also between Uncle Alec and his former premier detective, Chase. In fact, the two men had positioned themselves as far away from each other as possible—Chase on one side of the backyard and Uncle Alec on the other.

  I was glad that Mick Harper hadn’t decided to show up, for that would have been awkward, especially if he had brought along his dogs.

  For some reason, both Kurt and Gilda looked a little peaky, and when I looked closer, I saw that all of the other humans did too.

  “What’s going on with our humans?” I asked Brutus. “They all look like they didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

  “Those darn cats,” Kurt suddenly growled. His outburst was met with stunned silence.

  Then Gilda giggled nervously and said, “Kurt! Please apologize to our neighbors.”

  “I will not apologize,” said Kurt through gritted teeth, “until they can promise me that they’ll try and stop their cats from making that godawful racket! I haven’t slept a wink!”

  “Same here,” Tex muttered, darting a nervous eye at his daughter.

  “I haven’t slept either,” Marge confessed. “It was almost as if all of the cats from the neighborhood decided to have a party in Blake’s Field.”

  “I slept like a baby,” said Gran. “But then I always put in my earplugs. Never sleep without them. You should do the same, Kurt. It’s the secret recipe for a good night’s sleep that nobody ever mentions.”

  “I’m pretty sure those darn cats would cut right through those earplugs,” said the former music teacher. “It was so loud I thought there was a jumbo jet flying low over the house.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t that loud,” I said. “I, for one, sang really, really quietly—didn’t I, you guys?”

  “Absolutely,” said Dooley. “Max was right next to me, and I practically couldn’t hear him.”

  Harriet, who had been the star of last night’s rehearsal, threw her head back. “As an artist, I hate the notion of constraints being put on my art,” she said haughtily. “It destroys that creative spark that is the true backbone of any artistic creation. And so I refuse to moderate my singing—it’s anti-artistic!”

  “I thought last night was a pretty good show,” said Clarice. “I for one had a great time. Though I would have preferred to stay at the park, of course. And if it had been up to me, we would have.”

  Clarice had been the one to suggest that we each pick a canine target and go to town on them. That should teach them a lesson in humility, she had said. But in the end, Shanille had opted not to fight but to relocate. She didn’t want trouble, and she didn’t want to start a war between the cats and the dogs of Hampton Cove.

  “I loved it,” said Brutus. “I thought Blake’s Field was a worthy replacement for the park, and I hope that we’ll be there for many nights to come.”

  Uncle Alec cleared his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he said. He cast a look at Chase. “I know I haven’t behaved like the best chief of police I could have been lately. That I’ve made certain decisions that I probably shouldn’t have made.”

  “Like removing me from the investigation into the Eiderduck murders?” said Chase.

  Uncle Alec nodded. “That’s the one. Admittedly, I was a little hasty and…”

  Charlene gave him a gentle nudge. “Go on,” she said quietly. “Spit it out, Alec.”

  “Well, I wanted to offer you a heartfelt apology, Chase. I know that I hurt your feelings, even though I didn’t mean to, and I feel terrible about that. In fact, I couldn’t sleep either last night. Not because of any cats—there were none in our neighborhood last night, for some reason.”

  “That’s because they were all here,” Kurt grunted unhappily.

  “But because I was feeling terrible that I ruined a good friendship with a great person. A person that I’ve admired and appreciated for many years.” He heaved a deep sigh. “Chase, can you ever forgive me, buddy?”

  Chase remained stony-faced for a moment, and I got the feeling he was going to turn down the proffered hand. But then a smile broke through the clouds.

  “I missed you, too, buddy,” he said.

  Uncle Alec’s grin was something to behold. “I’m so sorry!” he cried. “I don’t know what came over me!”

  “You were taken in by Mick’s star power, weren’t you?” said Charlene. “As was I, I have to admit. But that doesn’t mean we should throw old friends and relatives under the bus.”

  “What about the investigation?” asked Odelia. But when Kurt cleared his throat, she said, “Maybe we can do this later—after the yoga lesson. Please go on, Gilda.”

  “Okay, so let’s move into the downward-facing dog position now,” said Gilda. “Tense up those muscles and stretch out that back. Stretch it out, stretch it out—that’s it.”

  “That was very nice of Uncle Alec, wasn’t it, Max?” said Dooley. “To apologize for his behavior?”

  “I think Charlene made him,” said Brutus. “No way he would have done it otherwise. The man is proud, just like Chase is proud—and proud men don’t apologize, even when they realize they’ve made a terrible mistake.”

  “It doesn’t matter who made Uncle Alec apologize,” said Harriet. “The fact that he did is the most important. And now that Chase has accepted his apology, we’ll finally be able to put this whole business with Mick Harper and the dogs behind us.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” said Brutus. And he gestured to the house, where a familiar figure had just appeared.

  It was Mick Harper, and he was accompanied by his girlfriend, the influencer. Now that I got a closer look at her, I had to say she was quite stunning and could have been a supermodel.

  “Mind if we join you guys?” he asked with that broad and infectious smile of his.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Kurt muttered.

  Gilda gave him a gentle prod in the ribs. “Of course!” she said. “The more the merrier! How did you find out about our morning yoga group?”

  “I saw a post on Facebook,” said Mick. “Looks like this is the place to be. Oh—this is Smilla,” he said. “She’s my girlfriend.”

  The eyes of all the ladies present turned to the new arrival, and I could see them all start to formulate their judgments in their minds.

  But not me. I wasn’t interested in this new woman in Mick’s life at all. What I searched for were the two huskies, and when I didn’t see them, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  The less we saw of Blizzard and Storm, the better.

  And the yoga lesson had just resumed when I heard a tsk-tsking sound from right behind me. When I turned, I saw that I had been too hasty: the huskies had snuck up behind us and were directing a look of disapproval in our direction.

  “I thought we might find you here,” said Blizzard with a touch of scorn.

  “I didn’t even know that cats were into yoga,” said Storm.

  “We aren’t,” said Brutus. “Cats are naturally limber and flexible. We don’t need yoga. The only reason we’re here is to lend moral support to our humans.”

  Both dogs laughed loudly.

  “Moral support!” Storm cried. “As if anyone needs the moral support of a bunch of cats!”

  At this moment, Clarice reappeared. She had momentarily entered Kurt and Gilda’s house, possibly to check out the food situation, and now returned. She didn’t say a word, but simply walked up to the two annoying huskies and positioned herself right in front of them, cool as anything.

  “What do you want?” asked Blizzard.

  “I want you to leave,” she said. “You’re not welcome here.”

  Blizzard laughed a scathing laugh and turned to his friend.

  “Did you hear that, Storm? She wants us to leave! What nerve!”

  “You’ve got some nerve coming here,” said Clarice. “This is cats’ territory, and dogs aren’t welcome—well, apart from Fifi and Rufus, of course. They live here. And also, they’re friends. You’re not friends. You’re usurpers.” She cut a glance in my direction. “Did I say that right, Max?”

  “Exactly right,” I said. “Usurpers is correct.”

  “Ooh, look at the kitty using the big words,” said Blizzard.

  “You don’t scare us, kitty cat,” said Storm. “And if you don’t clear out, we will bite you.”

  Clarice cracked an icy smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

  At that moment, Blizzard—who must not have made Clarice’s acquaintance or been aware of her reputation as a pretty tough cookie—barked at her in a menacing way and made to bite her.

  Quick as a flash, her paw sliced the air, and as she settled down again, blood started dripping from Blizzard’s nose.

  As the realization set in, he cried, “You scratched me!”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said. “I merely gave you a taste of what is to come if you don’t get lost right this minute.”

  “Why, you…” he said, and started barking furiously at the formerly feral feline.

  This attracted the attention of everyone present, but instead of restraining his dog, Mick said, “Will you look at that. Blizzard is flexing!” He actually seemed to admire his dog for attacking an innocent cat!

  “Call off your dog, Mick,” said Chase immediately. “Call him off now!”

  “Blizzard is just playing,” said Mick.

  “He’s going to bite Clarice!” Scarlett cried but was afraid to interfere, lest she get bitten.

  An argument broke out between Mick and Chase, with Scarlett uttering plaintive noises of panic over her beloved Clarice.

  The only one who didn’t seem overly concerned was Clarice herself. While Blizzard and Storm unleashed their inner demons, she just sat there, not batting an eye.

  Finally, she seemed to have had enough and said, “Okay. Final warning. If you don’t get lost, I will hurt you.”

  “I will hurt you!” roared Blizzard. “I’ll hurt you real bad, you stupid cat!”

  “You asked for it,” said Clarice.

  What happened next was one of those scenes that probably would never be shown on Nickelodeon, and was more befitting a Jason Statham movie. Clarice seemed to sort of lift up off the ground, as if gravity didn’t apply to her, and as we all watched, a tornado of fur and teeth and claws rose up in front of our eyes. Things moved so fast it was like a cloud.

  When the dust finally settled, two huskies could be seen fleeing the scene, their tails between their legs, whimpering loudly all the while.

  Mick, who clearly hadn’t expected this, yelled, “Blizzard! Storm!” and hurried after them.

  Meanwhile, Clarice calmly began licking her bloodied paws.

  “I warned them,” she said. “But they didn’t listen. Why do they never listen?”

  “Oh, honey!” said Scarlett, hurrying to her side. “I was so worried about you!”

  “No need,” said Clarice with a smile. “Don’t you know by now I can take care of myself?”

  As Mick and his huskies beat a hasty retreat, followed by Mick’s girlfriend Smilla, there were murmurs of approval among the yoga students. Not too loud, though, for Uncle Alec was there, and also Charlene, and everyone knew how much they cared for Mick.

  And so, in spite of Uncle Alec’s heartfelt apology and Chase’s acceptance of that apology, I got the feeling that two camps still existed: a pro-Mick camp and a contra-Mick camp. And as long as the hockey player was in our midst, I figured that wouldn’t change.

  But at least for now, we were rid of the huskies.

  And I, for one, was extremely grateful for that.

  CHAPTER 28

  “Iunderstand that you’re upset,” said Alec. “But you have to look at it from my perspective, Chase. The guy did a great job! He apprehended the suspects, and now the whole town adores him. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Give him a pat on the back and tell him to keep up the good work? In the eyes of the world, the guy is a bona fide hero!”

  “Who cares!” said Chase. “He may be a hero, but that doesn’t make him a good detective. I’m surprised he managed to graduate from police academy. He doesn’t know the first thing about how to run an investigation. He’s still on probation, chief. You can’t let him fly solo.”

  “Look, I had no choice, all right?” said Alec.

  After the yoga lesson had ended, he and Chase had decided to thrash this thing out once and for all. Alec hated that bad blood existed between himself and the detective, whom he loved like a son. And so they had taken up position on the porch of Alec’s sister Marge’s house, had both accepted a cup of coffee from the librarian, and were now trying to work things out. It was hard going, Alec found.

  “You always have a choice, Alec,” said Chase as he took a sip of coffee.

  “What I mean is, Charlene was leaning on me, hard. And the town council was leaning on her.”

  “Looks like everyone’s leaning on each other,” Chase scoffed.

  “That’s politics for you. It’s all about perception. When Mick walked through town with those two suspects, all of Hampton Cove watching it happen in real life and not on television for once, a legend was created. They look up to him, Chase. They can’t get enough of him. Now I don’t know if it’s because of the way he looks, or the things he says and does, but the fact of the matter is—he’s their hero. And you don’t bench a hero.”