Chapter Two

  “Did you really have to take all of them?” Gran grumbled.

  Odelia smiled. “It was your idea to bring all four of them along, remember?”

  “I’m not talking about the cats. I’m talking about those losers over there,” said Gran, jerking her thumb in the direction of the rest of the company.

  When Odelia talked to Opal on the phone, the talk show host had assured her she could bring whomever she wanted. She was sending her private jet to pick them up, and since it could hold at least a dozen, she could bring along any pets, grannies or other next of kin. As long as she made her way to LA pronto, since there was no time to waste.

  Gran glared at Marge and Tex as they gave her a jolly little wave.

  “I don’t get why they had to tag along,” she said, still grumbling. “What about Tex’s patients. What are they going to say?”

  “The same could be said about you, Gran. You work at the doctor’s office, too.”

  “They won’t miss me, but they sure as heck are going to miss Tex.”

  Tex had called in his good friend Cary Horsfield, who worked as a doctor in Hampton Keys, and was his bandmate in The Singing Doctors, to take over for him while he engaged in this little trip out west.

  “And what about Marge? She can’t just close up the library like that. People need their books. Reading is important.”

  “The library isn’t closed, Gran. Marcie is taking over for a couple of days.”

  Marcie Trapper was Marge’s neighbor, and didn’t mind helping out her friend.

  “It’s not right,” Gran muttered. “Opal invited us, not them.” She directed an icy glare at Chase and Uncle Alec, who’d unanimously decided to ditch their official cattle class ride and hitch a ride on Opal’s multi-million-dollar jet. It was a no-brainer, as they could travel in luxury, accompanied by their nearest and dearest—though Gran obviously didn’t feel the same way about her son and Odelia’s boyfriend joining them.

  “How about you?” asked Odelia. “You brought a plus-one.”

  Next to Gran, a handsome young man sat, staring out the window and sipping from a milk carton. He was dressed in skinny jeans and a tight T-shirt that accentuated his ripped physique. His blond hair was ruffled and blue eyes dreamy.

  “You haven’t even introduced us yet,” Odelia added. She reached across her grandmother and thrust out her hand. “Hi, my name is Odelia. I’m Vesta’s granddaughter.”

  “Oh, hi,” said the young man, then shook Odelia’s hand and gave her a confused smile. “Did you say you’re Vesta’s… granddaughter?”

  “That’s right. And that’s my mom and dad over there. And that man over there is Vesta’s son Alec—my uncle. And the guy next to him is Chase Kingsley. My boyfriend.”

  “Oh, um…” He directed a hesitant look at Gran. “I thought you said you had no family, Vesta? That you were too young and wild to settle down?”

  “You must have misheard,” she snapped. “I had my kids young. Very, very young.”

  Which wasn’t necessarily true, but Odelia decided not to rock the boat.

  “Okay,” said the young man, and put a straw to his lips to resume sucking from his milk carton.

  “So… what’s your name?” Odelia insisted. She was both curious and unrelenting. It was the reporter in her, used to asking tough questions and not taking no for an answer.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “My name is Hank. Hank Peterson.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Hank,” she said, plastering an engaging smile on her face.

  “Likewise,” said Hank, and returned once more to sucking on his straw.

  For a moment, Odelia managed to stay silent, then she whispered, “Who is he?”

  Gran didn’t bat an eye when she whispered back, “He’s my boyfriend.”

  Odelia stared at her grandmother, then to Hank, and back to Gran. “Wait, what?”

  “He’s handsome, isn’t he? Probably the handsomest boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

  “But…”

  “But what? Aren’t you happy for me?”

  “Um… he’s very young, isn’t he?”

  “He sure is,” said Gran, directing a loving glance at her boyfriend.

  “So… how did the two of you meet?”

  “Oh, enough about Hank already. What are we going to do about them?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Them!” she said, gesturing once again to Tex and Marge, who were clearly enjoying their first flight on a private jet. “We need to ditch them! Get rid of the dead weight.”

  “We can’t ditch them, Gran. They’re family. You don’t ditch family.”

  “What is Opal going to say when we show up with this sorry lot? She hired us, remember—two pros. Not June and Ward Cleaver.”

  In spite of herself, Odelia had to laugh. “I’m sure Opal will be fine.”

  “Fine! She hired two detectives and we’re bringing her half a dozen!”

  In all fairness Opal had only hired Odelia, with Gran attaching herself forcibly.

  “What about Hank?” asked Odelia. “Is he a detective, too?”

  “Oh, don’t you mind Hank,” said Gran with a wave of the hand. “He’s with me.”

  Odelia grinned and settled back in her seat. She glanced over to her mother, who gave her two thumbs up and said, “Can’t wait to meet her! Yay, Opal!”

  “Yeah, yay, Opal,” Gran muttered, clearly not happy with the state of affairs.

  “I’m going to check on Max and the others,” said Odelia, and got up. Moving to the back of the plane, she quickly found her feline brood. They were clearly having the time of their lives. When Odelia had told Opal she was bringing her cats along, the talk show host had been over the moon. An avid cat lover herself, she’d immediately given instructions for the airplane crew to give of their best when dealing with Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus, and now the foursome sat in their plush beige leather seats, snacking on what looked like some excellent gourmet food.

  “So how are you guys doing?” she asked, settling in one of the sumptuous seats.

  “Not too shabby,” said Max as he tucked into what looked like prime paté covered in a gelatinous sauce.

  “Who is the guy next to Gran?” asked Harriet.

  Odelia glanced over her shoulder. “His name is Hank Peterson,” she said, “and that’s all I know.” She lowered her voice. “Between you and me I think he’s Gran’s boy toy.”

  “Boy toy?” asked Dooley. “What’s a boy toy?”

  “It’s when an older woman takes a younger man as her lover,” said Harriet. “And frankly I think the term is insulting. When an older man takes a younger woman as his lover do they call her his girl toy? Well, do they?”

  Odelia laughed. “No, I guess they don’t.”

  “Boy toy,” said Dooley, musing. “You mean he’s not a real person but a toy?”

  “No, he’s a real person,” Odelia said with a smile.

  “He looks like a toy,” said Harriet. “He looks like a Ken doll.”

  “Well, I can assure you he’s real.” She petted Dooley on the head and got up. “We’ll be there soon, you guys, so eat up and enjoy your in-flight entertainment.” She gestured to the big flatscreen in the corner, where a Garfield movie was playing.

  “Boy toy,” she heard Dooley say as she walked away. “Why not toy boy?”

  “Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet.

  Chapter Three

  I had to admit that so far I was enjoying the experience. Last time we flew—also our first time—we’d been relegated to cages in the preliminary stages of the flight, and the experience hadn’t been one I cared to remember. This time, however, limos had picked us up at the house, and had carried us straight to the airport, where this sleek little bird had been awaiting us, its flanks adorned with the letters OPAL AIR, indicating that this plane, evidently, belonged to Opal. No cages had been involved, and we’d simply walked aboard like normal cats, quickly to find ourselves engulfed in luxury and class.

  “I think I like this, Max,” said Dooley now, indicating he was on the same page.

  “Yeah, I could get used to this,” Brutus said with a satisfied grunt as he settled back and rubbed his belly contentedly. “In fact I only have one gripe.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, wondering what there could be to cavil at on this super plane.

  “That I don’t have a bigger stomach,” he said, and laughed uproariously.

  “Ha ha,” I said, though I thought the joke was a little crass. After all, the only reason we were on this flight was because our host and benefactor was suffering from some untold ordeal, and it would be rude of us to treat this as something other than what it was: a rescue mission. In fact it wasn’t too much to say we were Opal’s personal SEAL Team Six. Though CAT Team Four was perhaps the better description.

  “I still think it’s unfair that you would vote to end my career as a soloist,” said Harriet suddenly, in fact the first time she’d spoken to me in three days.

  “Well, you couldn’t expect me to vote against the majority, Harriet,” I pointed out.

  “I could and you should have,” she said, her eyes shooting a mild sheet of flame in my direction. “I’m your friend, Max. If I can’t count on my friends, on who can I count?”

  “On whom.”

  “Who cares! You should have told Shanille in no uncertain terms what you thought of her dictatorial ideas. And where she could stick them.”

  “That wouldn’t have changed anything. She was going ahead with her soloist democratization plans regardless of what I or Dooley or anyone else thought about them. Besides, she got a clear majority, and cat choir is still a democracy last time I looked.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s a dictatorship and Shanille is its ruthless ruler.”

  There was no arguing with the cat, so I decided not to even try.

  “If you want you can have my solo, Harriet,” said Dooley now.

  “Dooley,” I said, looking up. “But I thought…”

  “I was really looking forward to it, that’s true,” my friend said, “but I can see how much this means to Harriet, and since she’s my friend I think she should have my spot.”

  “No, I couldn’t possibly take your spot, Dooley,” said Harriet.

  “You know what?” I said. “You can have my spot, too.”

  “Max? Are you serious?” she said, her eyes wide.

  “Sure. What else are friends for?”

  “Oh, you guys,” she said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears of gratitude. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank you would be nice,” I said with a smile.

  And then she flew down from her seat and hopped up onto Dooley’s seat to give him a hug, repeating the procedure with me and giving me a big wet kiss on my nose to boot.

  “Thanks,” she said huskily. “I’ll never forget this.”

  “You can have my spot, too,” said Brutus.

  “Oh, Brutus,” she said.

  “But I thought you quit cat choir?” said Dooley.

  “Yeah, I did. But I can join up again, and then Harriet can take my spot.”

  Harriet was beaming. “This is the best day of my life!” she said, and then promptly dug into her paté with renewed fervor.

  I frankly hoped we’d make it back to Hampton Cove in one piece, or else Harriet’s star turn as cat choir’s leading lady would never even materialize, in spite of our efforts to guarantee her a prime spot on its soloist roster. Even though the plane was top-notch, and so was the food and the accommodations, it still didn’t make me lose sight of the fact that we were in a narrow steel tube, hurtling through space miles above the earth, and held up by forces I couldn’t even begin to understand. Then again, if we did crash on a deserted island, we wouldn’t be alone. My entire family was there with me, and we could simply start afresh wherever we landed. Gran, for one, seemed ready and willing to repopulate the earth, judging from the way she was intently staring at her boy toy. Or was it toy boy? Whatever he was, she was clearly enjoying the ride.

  Four hours later, I was awoken by a gentle stirring of my shoulder, and when I opened my eyes I found myself gazing up into Odelia’s lovely green peepers.

  “We’re almost there, you guys. Better get ready.” And to show us what she meant by getting ready, she proceeded to strap us in with the little harnesses that had been provided especially for smallish passengers like ourselves.

  “Do you think this is the plane Opal herself takes when she goes somewhere?” asked Harriet, whose mood had gone up a notch or two—or a dozen—since we departed.

  “Yeah, this is Opal’s private plane,” said Odelia. “This is the one she takes all the time.”

  “So these seats…” said Harriet, patting the nice leather. “They’re the same seats her own cat sits in?” Her voice had taken on a reverent tone.

  Opal’s cat is called Prunella, and is famous for accompanying her owner everywhere.

  “Prunella must be really old by now,” said Brutus. “I remember seeing that cat on TV when I was still living with Chase’s mom.”

  “Yeah, Prunella is an old gal by now,” said Odelia, and finished strapping Brutus in. “So when you meet her, you better be on your best behavior, you hear?”

  “We’re always on our best behavior,” I said.

  “First impressions are everything, you guys,” said Harriet, “so Odelia is right. When we meet Prunella, be polite and act like gentlecats.”

  Next to me, Dooley was gritting his teeth, his claws digging into the armrests of his seat. “I hope we don’t crash,” he said. “This is the tricky part, isn’t it? The landing.”

  “It’ll be fine,” I assured him. “We’re not going to crash. These pilots have brought us this far, and I’m sure they’ll land this bird nice and easy.”

  He nodded, looking strained. “But what if we lose a wheel, Max? It happens. Or an engine? These wheels and engines have a habit of falling off for no good reason at all.”

  “Nothing is going to fall off. No wheels and no engines. Just stay calm and this will all be over with before you know it.”

  For some reason Brutus was grinning at me. “What?” I said. “What’s so funny?”

  “You,” he said. “You look like a sausage in that harness. All strapped in like that.”

  I gave him my best supercilious look. Brutus is a dear friend, but he has a tendency to be crass. “I’ll have you know that I am not a sausage,” I said.

  “Oh, don’t be so touchy, Max,” said Harriet. “It’s a big advantage, you know.”

  “What is?”

  “Being fat! All those layers of blubber will protect you if the plane goes down.”

  “Max?” said Dooley. “I don’t like all this talk about planes going down.”

  “First of all, I’m not fat—I’m big-boned. And secondly, this plane isn’t going down. We’re perfectly safe.”

  “I wish I had those layers of lard,” said Brutus with a touch of wistfulness. “To protect me when this plane turns into a big fireball and falls from the sky like a burning rock.”

  “Max?” said Dooley, a note of panic in his voice.

  I gave him what I hoped was a look of reassurance, though to be quite frank I was starting to feel a little worried, too. The word picture Brutus was painting about fireballs and burning rocks greatly perturbed me.

  “Promise me one thing, Max,” Brutus said with a sigh.

  “What?”

  “Never change. Never stop being a fatty.”

  I drew myself up to my full height, which was a little hard, as I was indeed strapped in like a sausage. “I’ll have you know that I am not a—”

  Just then, the plane listed, and the humans all yelped in distress.

  “—Mayday!” a voice over the intercom suddenly crackled.

  “Max!” Dooley cried. “This is it! We’re going down!”

  Start Reading Purrfect Boy Toy Now

  About Nic

  Nic has a background in political science and before being struck by the writing bug worked odd jobs around the world (including but not limited to massage therapist in Mexico, gardener in Italy, restaurant manager in India, and Berlitz teacher in Belgium).

  When he’s not writing he enjoys curling up with a good (comic) book, watching British crime dramas, French comedies or Nancy Meyers movies, sampling pastry (apple cake!), pasta and chocolate (preferably the dark variety), twisting himself into a pretzel doing morning yoga, going for a run, and spoiling his big red tomcat Tommy.

  He lives with his wife (and aforementioned cat) in a small village smack dab in the middle of absolutely nowhere and is probably writing his next ‘Mysteries of Max’ book right now.

  www.nicsaint.com

  Also by Nic Saint

  The Mysteries of Max

  Purrfect Murder

  Purrfectly Deadly

  Purrfect Revenge

  Purrfect Heat

  Purrfect Crime

  Purrfect Rivalry

  Purrfect Peril

  Purrfect Secret

  Purrfect Alibi

  Purrfect Obsession

  Purrfect Betrayal

  Purrfectly Clueless

  Purrfectly Royal

  Purrfect Cut

  Purrfect Trap

  Purrfectly Hidden

  Purrfect Kill

  Purrfect Boy Toy

  Purrfectly Dogged

  Purrfectly Dead

  Purrfect Saint

  Purrfect Advice

  Purrfect Cover

  Purrfect Patsy

  Purrfect Son

  Purrfect Fool

  Purrfect Fitness

  Purrfect Setup

  Purrfect Sidekick

  Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)

  Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)

  Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)

  Box Set 4 (Books 10-12)

  Box Set 5 (Books 13-15)

  Box Set 6 (Books 16-18)

  Box Set 7 (Books 19-21)

  Box Set 8 (Books 22-24)

  Box Set 9 (Books 25-27)

  Box Set 10 (Books 28-30)