The cats all seemed to rejoice at this. “It’s Max!” said one of the others.

  “We’re saved!”

  “Actually it’s Clarice who found you,” I said, pointing to our feral friend.

  They all stared at Clarice for a moment, then back to me. “Oh, Max, thank you for saving us!” said the Maine Coon, whom I assumed was the Chouchou we’d been looking for.

  “Always the same story,” Clarice grunted. “No recognition for the star of the show.”

  “Is your name Chouchou?” asked Dooley, approaching the small group.

  “Dooley!” said the cat. “Am I happy to see you!”

  “And I’m happy to see you!” said Dooley.

  “Yes, my name is Chouchou.” She lowered her lashes. “I didn’t realize you knew who I was.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Dooley was quick to explain. “But you fit your description.”

  “Your human is out looking for you,” I said. “And she’s asked us to lead the search. Or actually she’s asked our human, and our human asked us, and we asked Clarice here.”

  “Is your human Odelia Poole, by any chance?” asked one of the other cats.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Odelia Poole!” a whisper rang out amongst the cats. “Odelia Poole tracked us down!”

  “Actually I tracked you down,” said Clarice.

  The cats gave her a moment’s attention, then resumed with their cries of “Odelia Poole saved our lives!”

  “I’m getting out of here,” Clarice growled, and started to leave.

  “No, wait!” I said. “You have to lead us back!”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Don’t tell me you can’t find your way back.”

  “Well,” I said, glancing around a little uncertainly. “You did lead us very deep into these woods.”

  “Do you think there are bears in these woods, Clarice?” asked Dooley.

  “No, there are no bears in these woods,” said Clarice with an exaggerated sigh.

  “Or wolves?”

  “No wolves!”

  “Let’s get you back home, you guys,” I told the five cats. “But first tell us what happened. How did you get all the way out here?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly what happened,” said Chouchou. “I was walking along, after leaving cat choir, when suddenly a car stopped in my immediate rear, and a bag was thrown over my head. I was dumped in the trunk of the car and then brought out here.”

  “Same here,” said one of the other cats. “I was put in a bag and then dumped here.”

  “Same thing for me,” the other cats all chimed in, one after the other.

  “So… you were all catnapped?” I asked with a frown. This was serious business.

  “Yeah, looks like,” Chouchou confirmed.

  “And you have no idea who catnapped you?”

  Chouchou shook her head. “I would have smelled who it was, but I have a cold, so my nose is blocked. I think it was a man, though, but I can’t be absolutely sure.”

  “That narrows it down,” said Clarice, who clearly hadn’t taken to these cats to a great extent.

  “I did see someone dig a hole,” said one of the other cats.

  “Dig a hole?” I asked. “What kind of hole?”

  “Just a regular hole,” said the cat with a shrug. “You know, like, a hole?”

  “Can you show us this hole?” I asked. This was a disturbing development. Humans usually don’t go around digging holes in woods, unless it is for the purpose of burying things. And if this was the same person who’d been catnapping these cats, the only thing I could think of that he might have buried was… another cat!

  The cat led the way to a nearby spot, where indeed the earth had been disturbed, a clear sign that someone had been rooting around there with the assistance of a spade.

  “Was this the same person who kidnapped you?” I asked as we all stood around the spot. It even smelled of freshly disturbed earth—and worms, of course.

  “I don’t know,” said the cat who’d witnessed the digging. “I didn’t dare to come close enough to get a good smell of the person.”

  “What did they look like?”

  The cat merely shrugged. “Like any human. You know. With hair on top of a large head, a nose in the middle of a round face, two eyes and ears, and standing on two legs.”

  “Really narrows it down,” Clarice muttered.

  I took a sniff at the recently disturbed soil, and indeed detected a whiff of human.

  “Do you want to dig?” asked Clarice. “Cause if you want to dig, go right ahead, but I’m not going to dig. No way.”

  I hesitated. “Do you think this person might have buried…” I cut a quick glance to Dooley, who stood eyeing me with wide-eyed concentration, “… something here?”

  Clarice also took a sniff, then said with a frown. “All I can smell is human, not cat, so whatever is buried here is definitely not of a feline nature.”

  “Phew,” said Chouchou. “For a moment there I thought our catnapper was also a cat killer.”

  “A cat killer!” Dooley cried.

  “Not a cat killer, Dooley,” I said. “The emphasis is on not.”

  “But then what did he bury, Max?”

  “I don’t know, Dooley,” I said. “

  Why would a human head so deep into the woods, dump a couple of cats, then dig a hole? Assuming, of course, that this was the same person. It could very well have been two different people. At any rate, it all seemed very strange indeed. Now we all know that humans are a little strange, and that sometimes they do things for no discernible reason. But still, even by human standards this behavior was way out there.

  But since I felt that our mission was completed, I decided that it was time to stage the happy reunion between Chouchou and Mrs. Kathleen Bunyon, so we gave a reluctant Clarice the go-ahead to act as our guide once more, and all eight of us made our way out of the woods, and consequently back to civilization. And when finally we arrived on the outskirts of town, we were all famished—except, of course, Clarice.

  “This is where I leave you,” she said. “You can find your way home now, right?”

  “Thank you so much, Clarice,” I said. “You did a good thing today.”

  She eyed the five cats a little bleakly, and grumbled, “I’m not so sure about that.”

  And before I could say any more, she suddenly disappeared into the undergrowth, presumably to see if James Patterson had found some more liver pâté he had no use for.

  6

  Odelia felt happy that she was finally in a position to bring a ray of sunshine into a person’s life. And that was exactly what she anticipated to do just now, as she parked her car outside the home of the Bunyons, their precious fur baby in the backseat next to Max and Dooley, who were as proud as she was feeling that they’d made the impossible possible: in the space of only a couple of hours they’d found the missing cat and were about to deliver the missing Chouchou back to her proud owners.

  “Great job, you guys,” said Odelia, not for the first time. “I’m pretty sure you just broke some kind of sleuthing record. I’ll have to call the Guinness Book of Records.”

  “It wasn’t really us,” said Max deferentially.

  “Yeah, Clarice did most of the work,” said Dooley.

  “Who’s Clarice?” asked Chouchou.

  “The scary cat who was with us when we found you,” Max explained.

  “Oh, right,” said Chouchou, but clearly had no idea what he was talking about.

  “This is a great day,” said Odelia, “and even though I can’t tell the Bunyons about the exact role you played in finding Chouchou, I’ll make sure they know you were involved.”

  “You really don’t have to do that,” said Max. “I understand that you need to keep Mrs. Bunyon in the dark about us.”

  “No, but I will tell her that you’re actually the ones who found Chouchou.” She turned to the Maine Coon. “Can you tell me again how you got out there?”

  “Well, first I was snatched,” said Chouchou, “by some terrible catnapper person, and then I was put in a large bag, and then I was left in those woods to fend for myself.”

  “That’s so terrible,” said Odelia feelingly. “Absolutely awful, Chouchou.”

  “And then there was another person—or it could have been the same person—who was digging a hole and burying something.”

  “I won’t tell Mrs. Bunyon about that,” said Odelia. “She might start to worry, and we don’t want her to worry unnecessarily.”

  They all got out of the car, and Odelia rang the bell, instructing Chouchou to hide behind her for a moment, to make the surprise even bigger, and therefore the subsequent relief. “I want you to pay attention to the look on her face,” said Odelia with a smile. She felt a little like Santa Claus bringing tidings of joy and good cheer, and a bag full of presents.

  The door opened, and a man appeared. He blankly stared at Odelia. “Yes?” he said.

  “Mr. Bunyon?”

  “Uh-huh. That’s me.”

  “My name is Odelia Poole and your wife dropped by my office this morning, to ask me to look for your missing cat Chouchou?”

  “Oh,” said the man blinkingly. “She did?”

  “Yes, sir. And I’m happy to announce that I was successful, and I’ve found your precious baby for you.” And with these words, she stepped aside, and revealed Chouchou’s presence to Mr. Bunyon, her proud and happy owner. She didn’t exactly say ‘Ta-daaah,’ but the meaning was clear in her gesture.

  But if she’d expected the man to yip with joy, she was disappointed. Rather than yip, he merely goggled at Chouchou, an expression on his face that was hard to read. It could have been stunned surprise, or it could have been dismay. “You did what now?” he said.

  “Well, I found her,” said Odelia, then glanced down at Chouchou, then up at Mr. Bunyon again. “This is your cat, isn’t it?”

  “Um…” said the man, and for a moment he seemed on the verge of denying being even faintly acquainted with Chouchou.

  But then Kathleen Bunyon suddenly appeared in the door. “Who is it, Karl? Oh, hi, Miss Poole—Chouchou!” she screamed, and contrary to her husband she did seem overjoyed by this sudden re-emergence into her life of her precious pet. “Oh, my sweet, sweet, sweet little…” She picked Chouchou up and hugged her with extreme fervor.

  Odelia watched the scene with a sense of relief, and a big smile on her face.

  “Oh, Miss Poole—you found her!”

  “Actually,” she said, launching into her rehearsed spiel, “my cats found her. Max and Dooley? Come here a moment, will you?”

  Max and Dooley stepped into the limelight, and basked in the gratitude of Mrs. Bunyon. “Oh, you found my sweet, precious baby!” she said. “This is a miracle! Isn’t this a miracle, Karl?”

  “Yeah, a real miracle,” Karl muttered, though he continued to look not too well pleased by the return of the prodigal daughter to the bosom of his family.

  “Where did you find her?” asked Kathleen.

  “In the woods just outside of town,” said Odelia. “Deep in the woods, in fact.”

  “In the woods! How did you end up in the woods?” asked Kathleen. “You were probably playing with your friends, weren’t you?” She squeezed her precious Maine Coon some more, even going so far as to press a loving kiss to Chouchou’s furry and puckered brow, causing her husband to visibly wince. “You probably lost track of time and before you knew what happened you had lost your way.”

  “Well, you know what cats are like,” said Odelia, who didn’t want to trouble the woman with the whole disturbing story if it wasn’t necessary. “Though if I were you I’d keep her inside for the next couple of days. Make sure she doesn’t run off again.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” said Kathleen. “I won’t let her out of my sight for even one second! Now that I have her back, she isn’t going anywhere!”

  “Thank you, Miss Poole,” intoned Karl Bunyon curtly, then carefully closed the door, ending this episode in Odelia’s life—at least for now.

  7

  Chouchou having been delivered into the arms of her loving human—or at least one loving human, Odelia decided to take us back to where we’d found Chouchou and the others, and to look for that place where digging had been going on. Frankly, she was as intrigued by this digging thing as we were, and to show us she meant business, she brought her husband along.

  Chase Kingsley, if you didn’t know, is a local cop, and looks like a prizefighter. So with him by our side I have to say I wasn’t the least bit worried about what might happen if we encountered the person who’d catnapped those cats, and had engaged in a little digging to while away the time. The man is built like a brick outhouse, if you’re familiar with the expression, and even though my sense of direction perhaps isn’t as keen as Clarice’s, and neither is Dooley’s, we managed to lead our two humans to the right spot.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” said Chase when we got there. They say the proof is in the pudding, and since Chase had been skeptical about the story, this time the proof was in the digging. Chase had brought a spade, and so had Odelia, and before long the two of them were digging to their heart’s content, really putting their backs into it.

  “I think I’ve got something,” said Odelia suddenly.

  “Gold!” said Dooley excitedly. “I think it’s a treasure, Max.”

  “Why would anyone kidnap five cats and then bury a treasure in the woods?” I asked.

  That had him stumped, and so we simply waited with bated breath to see what exactly, if anything, was buried there.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Odelia murmured as she carefully removed some of the overturned earth and deposited it next to the hole she and Chase had succeeded in digging now.

  “It’s a person,” suddenly Chase announced.

  “A person!” Dooley cried. He looked at me, as if wanting answers and wanting them now. I couldn’t give him any, of course, apart from an equally stunned look in return.

  “I’ve got feet,” Odelia announced.

  “And I’ve got a head,” Chase grunted, and suddenly as the full picture became clear, I discovered that they were right: a person was buried there, not a cat.

  “Do you think it’s a dead person, Max?” asked Dooley.

  “Um… I think so, Dooley,” I said. “I’m not an expert but usually when people have been buried underground for a while, that means they’re dead. Goes with the territory.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Dooley, taking the words right out of Odelia’s mouth.

  We looked on as Chase removed some of the dirt from the person’s face, and we now saw that it was a bearded person.

  “I think it’s a man, Max,” said Dooley in a breathless whisper.

  “Unless it’s a bearded woman,” I suggested, trying to keep the atmosphere light and pleasant. We were, after all, in the middle of the woods, and a murderer had apparently engaged not only in the kidnapping of cats, but also in the unlawful snuffing out of the life of another human being. Not exactly the best circumstances to find ourselves in!

  “Does he look familiar?” asked Odelia as they both studied the person’s face.

  “Not… exactly,” said Chase as he shot a couple of pictures, perhaps to post on his Facebook.

  “He looks like a bum,” said Dooley after a moment’s consideration.

  And I could see why he would think that. The man was raggedly dressed, and had a soiled face, though that could be because of the being buried thing, of course.

  “He does look like a homeless person,” Odelia agreed.

  “I better call it in,” said Chase, and stepped back to place a phone call to the precinct.

  “How about that?” said Odelia as she placed her spade against a nearby tree, and cut a questioning look in our direction. “You do realize people will want to know how I came to find this guy out here,” she said.

  “You could tell them you followed your cats’ trail into the woods, where not only did you find Chouchou and the other missing cats, but also this dead person,” I told her.

  “And here I thought this was going to be one of those uneventful days.”

  “Think again.”

  “So… why would a person kidnap five cats and then bury a body in the woods, Max?” asked Dooley.

  “Now that,” said Odelia, “is exactly what I’d like to know.”

  “We’re not sure this is the same person,” I said. “Could be just a coincidence.”

  Within a reasonably short time of Chase ‘calling it in,’ the place was crawling with cops and crime scene people, and Dooley and I were forced to take a backseat. When Odelia finally turned to join us, she announced, “Yeah, he’s definitely been murdered. Shot through the head with what looks like a .38 caliber firearm if you please.”

  “Shot!” I cried. I don’t know why I was surprised. If a person takes the time to bury a body in the woods, it’s highly unlikely that the victim died of natural causes.

  Odelia nodded as she took in the strenuous activity surrounding the burial site of the dead man.

  “And who is he?” asked Dooley.

  “We don’t know, Dooley,” said Odelia. “He had no ID on him. No wallet, no phone, not a slip of paper. They’ll take his fingerprints, of course, and see if he’s in the system.”

  “What system is that?”

  “The police database.”

  “Is everybody in the police database?”

  “Only if you’ve ever had a brush with the law,” Odelia explained.

  “And if he hasn’t?”

  Odelia shrugged. “Then it looks like we’re dealing with a John Doe.”

  “Oh, so you do know his name.”

  “A John Doe is just a name for a person whose identity is unknown,” I explained for my friend’s information.

  “So his name isn’t really Mr. Doe?”

  “No,” said Odelia. “His name isn’t really John Doe. One thing we do know. This is a man who’s lived rough for a long time. He definitely shows signs of having lived life on the street for at least a number of years.”