“I’ll miss you, Lil Ran,” said Fifi. “Dog choir won’t be the same without you.”

  “What are you talking about? I still live in town, Fifi. I’ll still attend dog choir.”

  The Yorkie’s face lit up. “You will? That’s the best news I’ve heard all week!”

  “I think the best news I’ve heard all week is that Gran and Wilbur aren’t getting married and I can keep on living here,” said Dooley, snacking, like the rest of us, on some prime burger patties, courtesy of Chase Kingsley, who’d managed to keep his future father-in-law from ruining our meal—a heroic and much-appreciated effort.

  “And I’m glad Marge isn’t going to marry Randy,” said Brutus. “I like Tex. He may not be the perfect husband, but he’s a damn sight better than Randy—no offense, Lil Ran.”

  “None taken,” said the large canine. “You’re right. Randy will have to make a big effort to make amends. What he did to this family is terrible, and I’m glad he’s gone.”

  He still looked a little sad when he said this, and I could understand why. If Odelia suddenly snapped and went nuts, I’d still love her, even if she had to go away for a while and become a ward of the state’s penitentiary system. I didn’t think that would happen any time soon, though.

  She came walking over to us now, to dole out some more goodies. “So how are you holding up, Brutus?” she asked, giving the butch black cat a stroke of the fur. “Not missing your little turtle buddy too much?”

  “It’s all right,” said Brutus. “I know Pinkie is happier where she is now, and that makes me happy, too. And maybe one day she’ll pay me a visit—when she’s bigger and stronger.”

  “Let’s hope she does,” said Odelia with a smile.

  And as we sat there, gazing out across the backyard, with our humans chattering and enjoying themselves, I once again realized how lucky we all were with the Pooles—and our friends. And how nice it was that we all got along so well. Cats and dogs. Cats and humans. Humans and dogs…

  “Of course cat choir is superior, you silly mutt,” said Harriet with a laugh. “Dogs can’t sing, everybody knows that.”

  “I beg to differ,” said Rufus. “I think dogs can sing much better than cats. At least when we sing humans sit up and listen, whereas when you guys sing, they start rooting around their closets for any old shoe they can throw.”

  “That’s not true—you take that back, dog!”

  “I can’t take back the truth, Harriet.”

  “Guys, guys,” said Odelia, trying to interfene. “Let’s keep it civilized, okay?”

  “But he insulted me!” said Harriet.

  “Only after she insulted me!” said Rufus.

  “So you decide, Odelia: who are the better singers: cats or dogs?”

  “I’m not going to say,” said Odelia, getting up. “I’m not going to get drawn into this argument.”

  “But you have to have an opinion, right? Just tell us!”

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Cats,” said Gran, wandering over, carrying her plate. “Cats are the better singers. Of course they are. They’re much more melodious.”

  “Oh, you silly woman,” said Fifi.

  “What did she say?” asked Gran with a frown.

  “She called you a silly woman,” Harriet eagerly translated.

  “You stupid mutt!” said Gran.

  “Hey, that’s my dog!” Kurt Mayfield yelled over the fence. “Are you seriously calling my dog names, you silly old bag?”

  “Who are you calling an old bag, you old coot!”

  “Humans are the better singers,” said Odelia. “There. I said it. That’s my opinion. Take it or leave it.”

  “Odelia! How can you say that!” said Harriet.

  Okay, so maybe we don’t always get along—cats and dogs and humans, but at least we all love each other, right?

  “I hate you!” Gran yelled, shaking her fist at our neighbor.

  “Not as much as I hate you!” Kurt yelled back.

  Okay, well, at least we don’t get physical when we don’t get along.

  “Ouch!” said Gran when a nut hit her against the side of the head. “Are you really throwing my own nuts at me now?”

  “A nut for a nut!” said Kurt, and threw another one and missed.

  “What are you doing in my backyard, Kurt?” said Odelia, taking her grandmother’s side. “Get back to your own backyard.”

  “I’m only looking out for my dog, since you kidnapped her!” said our neighbor.

  “She came here of her own volition!” Gran screamed, and picked up one of Tex’s lesser experiments and threw it at Kurt’s head. It was a patty that had been cooked to the consistency of a rock, and hit the man in the face with a dull thunk.

  “Max?” said Dooley as we now watched nuts and burger patties flying back and forth as the fight turned hostile.

  “Yes, Dooley?”

  “I think maybe it’s time to get out of here, before we become collective damage.”

  “Collateral damage,” I corrected him, but agreed wholeheartedly with his assessment. And so we quickly skedaddled.

  “Who do you think are the better singers, Max?” he asked as we walked into the house through the pet flap and took a seat on the couch. “Dogs or cats or humans?”

  “I think they all have their merits, Dooley.”

  “Very diplomatic of you, Max.”

  “I mean it. And if we all sing together, I think we can create a beautiful harmony.”

  He smiled. “You’re very smart, Max.”

  “I don’t know about that, Dooley, but I do like a nice piece of music.”

  And as we listened to the shouts and screams going on outside, we shared a grin.

  “Not that kind of music!” my friend laughed.

  He punched a button on the remote and the TV switched on. One of Randy Hancock’s old fitness shows was on, and after watching for a while, Dooley changed the channel. And as a cat food commercial started playing, we both settled in for the duration.

  I hadn’t lied when I told Dooley I like all voices: dogs, cats, birds, bees, humans, dolphins, whales… turtles. We all have our own unique voice—and all of them precious. And when one voice falls away, it detracts from the harmony of the concert of life.

  Or, um, something.

  Hey, I’m just a cat—not a philosopher!

  THE END

  Thanks for reading! If you liked this book, please share the fun by leaving a REVIEW!

  And if you want to know when a new Nic Saint book comes out, sign up for Nic’s mailing list: nicsaint.com/news.

  Excerpt from Purrfect Setup (The Mysteries of Max 30)

  Chapter One

  Odelia Poole had just entered the gym changing room after a satisfying marathon session on the stationary bike when a young woman, a teenager really, called out her name.

  “Odelia? Odelia Poole?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re the reporter, right? The one who also works as a private detective?”

  Odelia smiled. “Reporter will do. I’m not much of a detective, except by accident.”

  “There’s something I need to ask, Miss Poole,” said the teenager, and glanced behind her, as if to ascertain whether they weren’t being overheard. She was probably around eighteen, maybe even younger, with fair hair and a light complexion. Her eyes were large and blue as she gave Odelia a searching look.

  “What’s your name?” asked Odelia, who could sense that the girl was in some kind of trouble.

  “Rose,” said the girl. “Rose Wimmer.”

  “How can I help you, Rose?”

  “I’ve been getting these messages, Miss Poole,” said Rose, taking out her phone.

  “Odelia, please. What messages?”

  Rose held up her phone and swiped it to life. “I have no idea who’s sending them but they’re very annoying. My boyfriend saw them and he says I should go to the police. But I really don’t want to get them involved.” She shook her head. “This is so embarrassing.”

  Odelia, whose curiosity was now well and truly piqued, said, “Can you show me the messages?”

  “Here’s one,” said Rose, and held out her phone for Odelia to see. “This is the one I got just now. They were sent to my Messenger. I was doing the Pilates class and I heard my phone buzz and I knew it was him. Don’t ask me how but I just knew.”

  Odelia stared at the message. It took her but a short moment to realize what it was she was looking at. “Is this…” she began.

  Rose nodded and bit her bottom lip nervously. “I’ve been getting at least one a day. It’s horrible.”

  The picture showed a man’s undercarriage in all its dubious glory. “Um…” said Odelia, unsure of how to respond. “So who are they from?”

  “That’s the thing. I have absolutely no idea. At first I thought Cole was sending them–that’s my boyfriend—Cole Donalds. But he swears up and down it’s not him.” Rose shook her head. “It must be some jerk I know from school. Has to be.”

  “Can’t you block this person?”

  “I did! Blocked and reported. He just creates a new account and starts sending again.”

  “There’s no name? No other messages?”

  “No, nothing. It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty gross,” Odelia agreed, who’d never been on the receiving end of these kinds of obscene messages herself, thank God.

  Rose raised her eyes to Odelia’s. Her expression had taken on a pleading aspect. “Can you please find out who’s sending these, Miss Poole—Odelia? Please? I have to know.”

  “I think I have to agree with your boyfriend, Rose. I think it’s best if you take these to the police. If you file a complaint they can trace these back to the person who sent them.”

  “No police,” said Rose with a note of finality in her voice. “I’ve never been involved with the police and I don’t want to start now.” She clasped her hands together. “Oh, please help me, Odelia. I’ve heard so many good things about you. How you’re an ace detective and how you can solve a mystery even when the police are completely stuck?”

  That pleading look was affecting Odelia deeply. And even though she had no idea how to help Rose, she found her resolve weakening under the onslaught of the teenager’s insistence. “Oh, all right,” she said finally. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” said Rose, and promptly slung her arms around Odelia’s sweaty neck and gave her a bone-crushing hug. When she released her, the young girl’s eyes were sparkling. “Cole thinks I’m cheating on him, you see. He thinks I have another boyfriend and it’s him that’s been sending me these messages. If I can just prove to him that it’s just some weird creep…”

  Just then, Jared Zmuda stuck his head in. The gym owner was dressed in his usual attire: Iron Man tank top and fluorescent shorts. “Just to let you girls know we’ve been having some issues with the plumbing,” he said. “So if you want to take a hot shower, better do it now, before the plumber gets here.” He gave them both a toothy grin and then retreated again.

  “We better take that shower,” said Odelia as she opened her locker and took out her gym bag.

  “So how do you want to do this?” asked the girl. “Do you need my phone or do I forward you these messages?”

  “I think you better give me your phone so I can take a closer look,” said Odelia.

  Rose handed her the phone with obvious reluctance. As was the way with many people, especially teenagers, obviously the girl’s world revolved around that small device.

  “I’ll give it back to you as soon as I can,” Odelia promised.

  “But how will you reach me?”

  “Do you have a second phone? Or a regular home phone?”

  The girl nodded, and gave Odelia her home address, phone number and the number of her boyfriend. “Best to call Cole, though. I don’t want my dad to know about this, or Daphne.”

  “Who’s Daphne?”

  Rose grimaced. “My stepmom. We don’t exactly get along. Not that I get along with my dad either. He’s a banker and obsessed with his job. But not too obsessed that he’s not always on my case.” She sighed an exaggerated sigh. “He doesn’t like Cole, you see. Thinks he’s not right for me.”

  Jared stuck his head in the door again. “Final warning,” he said. “ETA on the plumber is ten minutes. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And he gave the doorjamb a pat before retracting his head again.

  Odelia placed Rose’s phone in her gym bag. The girl had opened her locker but hesitated then turned to face Odelia. “How… how much is your fee, Odelia? It’s just that… my dad may be loaded, but he’s really stingy. I do work weekends at Denny’s, and—”

  “No fee,” Odelia cut into the girl’s explanations about her impecuniousness.

  “Oh, but you have to let me pay you.”

  “Look, I wouldn’t want to receive these kinds of horrible pictures myself, nor do I think anyone should send them to someone as young as you. So frankly I want to catch the bastard as badly as you do.” She smiled. “In short: I’ll be happy do this for free.”

  Rose’s smile lit up her face and warmed Odelia’s heart. “Thank you,” she said, and clasped the reporter’s hands. “I knew you were the right person to ask. I just knew it.”

  Chapter Two

  “Max?”

  “Mh?”

  “What is a dick pic?”

  I’d just been taking a liberal swig of water from my water bowl when Dooley hit me with this frankly shocking question. As a consequence I almost choked on my intake of my usual H2O and slowly turned to my friend, who was looking at me with that innocent look in his eyes which is so typical for him.

  But before I could formulate a response, he went on, “I mean, I know it’s a picture of a man named Dick, but we don’t know any men named Dick, do we? So why is Odelia showing his picture to Chase right now, and why are they whispering?”

  I glanced over to where our humans were conducting a whispered conversation at the kitchen counter, both intently looking down at something positioned on the counter.

  Harriet, who’d overheard the conversation, gave me a cheeky wink. “Yes, Max, please tell us what picture of Dick Odelia and Chase are studying. Inquiring minds want to know.”

  Harriet had until now been licking her precious white fur, but Dooley’s question clearly held enough intrigue to make her halt this favored pastime. Her green eyes were sparkling with mischievous mirth, and I gave her a hopeless look.

  “I think you’re absolutely right, Dooley,” I said. “A dick pic is obviously a picture of a man named Dick, and if I’d hazard a guess this Dick person is probably someone related to either Odelia’s job or Chase’s.”

  Dooley nodded sagely. “That’s what I thought,” he said. “I heard Chase use a curse word, Max, when Odelia showed him this Dick person’s picture, so Dick must be a man who did a very bad thing.”

  “A very bad thing indeed,” said Harriet with a slight grin, and without further ado resumed her interrupted grooming session.

  Her boyfriend Brutus, the fourth member of Odelia’s feline household, now came tripping up through the pet flap. Brutus is a butch black cat, and now looked slightly bored when he joined us. “Gran is watching Jeopardy again,” he announced. “And she’s yelling out all the questions. Much to Tex’s annoyance.”

  Now that Dooley’s curiosity was satisfied, at least temporarily, it was time to satisfy mine. And as I directed a curious glance at my humans, still in whispered conference, I decided to hop up onto one of the kitchen stools and find out what they were up to.

  The moment I did, the whispered conversation abruptly halted, and two pairs of human eyes quickly swiveled to the intruder in their midst: me.

  “What do you want, Max?” asked Odelia, a little curtly I thought.

  “Dooley says that you received a dick pic, and he wants to know all about it,” I said.

  “Oh, dear,” said Odelia with an expressive eye roll. “I should have known not to bring Rose’s phone home.”

  “Who’s Rose?” I asked.

  “Rose is a girl I met at the gym,” she said. “And she’s been receiving these very offensive pictures… of a man’s undercarriage. She neither asked for these pictures to be sent to her, nor does she enjoy the experience of receiving them.”

  “Who does?” Chase muttered. The lanky cop was staring intently at something on a smartphone that didn’t belong either to him or to Odelia. I could tell from the pictures of flowers pasted on the pink phone cover and the glitter with which it had been encrusted.

  “And now Rose wants me to find out who’s been sending her these pictures,” Odelia went on. “She thinks it’s probably some kid at her school.”

  “If I get my hands on the little jerk,” Chase grumbled as he flexed and unflexed a fist.

  “So… have you found out?” I asked, darting a glance in the direction of the phone in question. But Chase was carefully shielding it from view, and probably that was a good thing, too. Frankly I’d never witnessed a human male’s undercarriage up close and personal and I honestly liked to keep it that way. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.

  “It’s not so easy,” said Odelia, as she took what was left of the pepperoni pizza she and Chase had enjoyed and deposited it into her mouth.

  “Well, it is easy,” said Chase, “but it’s not something you or I can accomplish. But if I take this phone into the station tomorrow, and hand it over to one of our techies—”

  “No way,” said Odelia. “I promised Rose I wouldn’t involve the police, and I intend to keep my promise.”

  “She doesn’t have to know I took it,” Chase argued. “Heck, your uncle doesn’t even have to know.”

  “You would keep this from my uncle?” asked Odelia with an amused look at her boyfriend.