Purrfect Cure (The Mysteries of Max Book 38)

by Nic Saint

  “It’s funny,” said Marigold, “that you’re actually talking to your cat.”

  “Oh, just an old habit,” said Odelia, feeling caught. “When I’m feeling nervous about a case, or just spitballing some theory, I like to ask Max, and pretend he gives me advice.”

  “Just like Francis likes to talk to Jesus,” Marigold commented with a smile at her boyfriend.

  “Marigold thinks you’re Jesus, Max,” said Dooley.

  “I very much doubt that, Dooley,” I said.

  “No, but she does.” He regarded me thoughtfully. “You don’t look like Jesus, though.”

  “I know I don’t look like Jesus, Dooley.”

  “No, but really you look nothing like him.”

  “I know!” I turned to Odelia. “We have to hurry, Odelia. If we’re too late…”

  “You better step on it,” said my human.

  “You think she’s in danger?”

  “I know she is,” said Odelia, giving me a glance of concern.

  Apart from Dooley, Harriet and Brutus were also riding with us, and so was Shanille.

  “How did you know, Max?” asked the latter now.

  “Just a hunch,” I said, still not a hundred percent sure my hunch would play out this time. It was very much possible that I was completely off base again. Which meant I wasn’t just about to make a total fool of myself, but also of Odelia and Chase.

  “But you must have had some clue,” Shanille insisted.

  “Let’s just wait and see if Max’s theory pans out this time,” Brutus suggested. “Cause his previous attempt to solve this case was a total flop.”

  “Poor Father Reilly,” said Harriet. “To think that you thought he would murder and bury his own daughter in an unmarked grave. Just look at the man. It’s obvious that he’s devastated.”

  We all looked at the man, and he did look distinctly ill at ease. Though it was entirely possible that the prospect of being reunited with his daughter put him on edge, in light of their recent argument.

  “When we find Angel I’m going to tell her, Francis,” said Marigold, patting the priest’s hand affectionately. “Or better yet: you tell her.”

  “I will, Marigold,” Father Reilly assured his housekeeper, then gulped nervously, like a bullfrog who’s just swallowed a mosquito.

  “It’s time, Francis.”

  “I know.”

  “In a sense this might be the best thing that happened to us. Angel will finally know the truth, and we’ll have a nice fall wedding, and Angel can be our bridesmaid.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Francis, giving the impression of a man facing the firing squad now.

  “Why is it, Max,” asked Dooley, who must have noticed the same thing, “that some men think of marriage as a terrible thing?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Shanille.

  “Well, just look at Father Reilly. It’s clear that the prospect of getting married scares him to death.”

  “Nonsense. He’s just worried about what we will find when we arrive there.”

  “I think he’s more nervous about what will happen once he and his daughter are reunited.”

  “Oh, Dooley, you’re way off base. Obviously he’ll be over the moon when he sees Angel and he can’t wait to tell her what he should have told her years and years ago.”

  I wasn’t so sure, and frankly I thought that Dooley was onto something here.

  But for now I was too nervous myself to bother inserting my own views into the conversation. I just hoped this time I was right and that my instincts hadn’t deserted me!

  Soon we were veering off the main road and rocking down a meandering dirt road that led straight into the woods. It had only taken Chase a couple of phone calls to locate the place, and it seemed plausible enough. Moments later the car was bumping and grinding across the rutted road, the cop’s sturdy pickup handling the tree roots and potholes exceptionally well. We were deep in the woods now, and when I glanced back I saw that the three police cars following in our wake had trouble navigating this challenging track. Moments later the path finally cleared and before us a small cabin materialized, built probably forty or fifty years ago. It was a modest cabin, but looked spacious enough. A big pile of firewood sat stacked to one side, and three cars stood parked outside, a sign the place was inhabited.

  Chase immediately pulled to a stop, then put his pickup in reverse until we were back in the woods, unseen by whoever was staying in that cabin. Behind us, the other cars also pulled over, and the small contingent got out, careful not to slam their doors and proceeding cautiously.

  In complete silence, with only the occasional sounds of crackling radios accentuating the peace and quiet, the officers all spread out, slowly circling the cabin. Uncle Alec, who was coordinating the operation, now joined us and said, “You’re up, Odelia.”

  “Me? Are you sure?”

  “They know you’re not a cop, and you’ll be able to keep them distracted while we move in.”

  “Try to ascertain if Angel is in there,” said Chase.

  “All right, I’ll give it a shot,” said Odelia. She glanced down at me and the rest of our feline squadron.

  “We’ll be right behind you, Odelia,” I assured her.

  She smiled. “Thanks, Max.” Then she took a deep breath. “Well, let’s do this, shall we?”

  And so we moved in the direction of the cabin—single file. Arriving there, Odelia knocked on the door, and moments later it opened to a crack, two eyes taking us in.

  “What do you want?” the owner of those eyes asked, not all that friendly.

  “I’m sorry, but I seem to have gotten lost. Could I please use your phone?”

  There was a moment’s silence, then the person said, “Wait here.” And abruptly closed the door again.

  “He didn’t look happy,” said Brutus with a low chuckle.

  When nothing seemed to happen, Odelia decided to give the door another knock. This time nobody showed up to open it, though, so I said, “Let’s take a look through the windows. See if we can’t find Angel.”

  And so while Odelia patiently waited to be let into the cabin, we circled the modest dwelling, Dooley and myself tackling it from the right and Brutus, Harriet and Shanille from the left. This two-pronged attack would allow us to cover all the windows, according to my calculations. And when I hopped up onto the first windowsill and glanced in, I saw that a number of people dressed in black stood conferring in what looked like the main room.

  “What do you see, Max?” asked Dooley, who’d remained on the ground.

  I hopped down again, and said, “Let’s try the next window.”

  This time we both hopped up to take a peek inside, and found ourselves looking into a smaller room, where a lone woman was nervously pacing the floor. I immediately recognized her from the pictures we’d seen as… Angel Church!

  “She’s still alive, Max!” said Dooley happily. “The aliens didn’t kill her!”

  Those aliens had looked remarkably human, so I told Dooley, “I think you’ll find that the kidnappers aren’t very alien at all, Dooley.”

  “Oh?” he said, sounding disappointed. “So… no aliens?”

  “No aliens,” I said decidedly.

  Angel must have heard us, for she now approached the window and gave us a frantic wave. I gave her what I sincerely hoped was a reassuring wave in return, and said, “Hang tight, Angel. The cavalry is here to save you!”

  All she could hear was me producing mewling sounds, of course, but she still seemed to draw strength and reassurance from my performance, for she gave us a watery smile, and then went right back to pacing the floor. I saw the remnants of breakfast scattered on the floor, and it looked as if a fight had taken place in there. At least she didn’t look hurt.

  We hopped back down, and hurried to the front of the cabin, where Odelia was banging the door in a rhythmic fashion now, and yelling, “Hey! I need to use your phone! And, um—the bathroom, too!” She gave us a helpless shrug
, and whispered. “I’m improvising here!”

  “She’s in there, Odelia,” I said.

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “And she looks fine,” Dooley added. Harriet, Brutus and Shanille had also returned from their expedition, and Harriet said, “There’s plenty of people in there.”

  “Yeah, looks like they’re in a meeting,” Shanille added.

  “How many?” asked Odelia, bringing her phone to her lips.

  “Um…” I thought for a moment, counting in my head. “Well, I saw… eight.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Harriet confirmed.

  Odelia softly spoke into her phone, apprising her uncle of the situation at the cabin.

  Her mission was now to distract those people, and make sure that they didn’t harm Angel, or take her hostage when the operation was finally set in motion.

  I could see police officers approaching from all sides now, weapons out, and it was obvious that the situation could turn extremely volatile very quickly.

  “We have to prevent them from taking Angel hostage,” I said.

  “But how?” asked Shanille. “She’s in there and we’re out here!”

  I glanced up at the roof, and saw that there was a small chimney. I gestured to the chimney, but Brutus grunted, “That probably leads to a wood stove, Max. Do you really want to get stuck inside a wood stove?”

  “It won’t be lit,” I pointed out. “And it’s our only way in.”

  I relayed my makeshift plan to Odelia, and moments later she was helping five cats onto the roof, which wasn’t as arduous as it sounds, since the roof was pretty low.

  “And now what?” asked Harriet annoyedly as we sat around that chimney. “I can tell you right now that I’m not going in there. Can you imagine what that soot would do to my nice white fur? No way!”

  “But Angel’s life is at stake, Harriet,” said Shanille. “We have to protect her!”

  “I’ll go,” I said, but immediately Brutus held out a paw.

  “You’ll get stuck, Max. Have you seen how tight that chimney is? I’ll go.”

  “Wuggle bear!” Harriet cried.

  “It’s fine, sweet peach. A little bit of soot won’t hurt me. It might even complement my natural color.”

  “Oh, twinkle toes, you’re so brave!”

  “I know, tootsie roll,” said Brutus with distinct lack of modesty.

  “I want to go, too,” said Dooley after careful consideration. “I’m small and I’ll fit.”

  “Okay, so why don’t you go first, Brutus?” I suggested. “And when you land safely you give us a sign, and then Dooley can go next and you can catch him.”

  And so it was decided. Harriet looked on anxiously as her mate crawled on top of that chimney, looking butch and brave, then gave his lady love a little wave. “Wish me luck, buttercup.”

  “Good luck, hot stuff!” said Harriet. “And do be careful!”

  Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” Brutus growled. “It’s skill, hotcakes—pure skill!”

  And then he was zooming down that chimney. There was a soft poof as he hit the wood stove and then his voice sounded, “I’m all right, you guys!”

  “Dooley, you’re up next,” I said.

  Dooley gulped a little, but then crawled on top of that chimney, to follow in Brutus’s pawsteps. “Any last words, Max?” he asked.

  “Yes, Dooley. Aim for the eyes,” I said, my voice hard. Those people in there might not all be hardened criminals, but frankly I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for them. They had abducted Angel, and I now surmised they had a very nasty ending in mind for her.

  Dooley zoomed down, and landed with a soft thud, and finally Shanille said, “I’m going in, too. Angel is my human, and I owe it to her to do what I can to keep her safe from harm.”

  And then it was just me and Harriet on that roof, and I have to confess that the tension was killing me. Harriet must have been affected, too, for moments later she was crawling onto the top of the chimney, and I blinked and said, “Harriet, what are you doing?”

  “I can’t let my hubby wubby do all this by himself, Max. I’m going in!”

  “But Harriet, your beautiful fur!”

  “I’ll be fine, Max!”

  And then she was sliding down that chimney, uttering a soft yelp!

  I glanced down the tube, and knew that Brutus was right: I would never fit in there.

  “Oh, curse those big bones of mine,” I muttered as I tried to hear what was going on.

  But since there was nothing I could do up there, I decided to return to terra firma, and first scrabbled down that slate roof, then hopped down onto the stack of firewood, then finally to the ground below, hurrying around the small building back to the front.

  I hopped up onto the windowsill that offered a view into the cabin’s main room, and what I saw there was a sight for sore eyes: Brutus, Dooley, Shanille and Harriet were engaged in some combative action with no less than eight nemeses! Now I don’t know if you’ve ever been attacked by a cat, but it’s not a fun experience, I can tell you! We like to use every weapon in our arsenal, including but not limited to: eighteen claws (five on each front foot and four on each rear foot) and no less than thirty teeth and of course our exceptionally limber limbs and bodies we can twist and contort with surprising agility!

  In other words: you don’t want to pick a fight with an angry feline! We might be small and cuddly, but we can be pretty vicious when we want to be!

  Odelia, who’d joined me at the window, now saw the epic battle unfold, and whispered into her phone, “Now, Uncle Alec. Go, go, go!”

  And so from all sides cops came hurrying up, and moments later the inhabitants of that cabin, who were too busy fighting off four cats, were surprised when the cabin door burst open and a small contingent of Uncle Alec’s troops came storming in. And as they were all led out, I watched as Chase slapped the handcuffs on Carmel Kraft. The others were, I assumed, Amy Ollermann, Beatrice Felag, Jody Huix and Bridget Elfman. And if I wasn’t mistaken, one of the three men, who was sporting a nasty bump on his forehead, and plenty of scratches on his arms, was a kid I’d seen behind the counter at McDonald’s. Presumably the boyfriend of one of Angel’s besties.

  Though with BFFs like that, who needs enemies?

  33

  The reunion between Marigold and her daughter was touching, and the fact that we were there to witness it warmed all of our hearts.

  And then Marigold said, “I want to introduce you to someone, sweetie.”

  “Who?” asked Angel, who was teary-eyed but otherwise looked fine, in spite of her ordeal.

  “This is your dad,” said Marigold, and stepped aside to reveal Francis Reilly standing there.

  Angel looked confused for a moment, as she looked from her mom to the priest, but then her jaw dropped, and she said, “No way!”

  “I’m your dad, Angel,” said Father Reilly unnecessarily. He looked pretty nervous, but also determined to do the right thing. “And I’m really sorry for not telling you sooner.”

  “Oh, my God!” said Angel, and then she was hugging her dad, and squeezing him so fiercely the older man actually groaned. “I knew it!” she said finally as she released him from her grip. “I mean, I always had my suspicions, and actually, if I’m totally honest…” She quickly wiped away a tear. “I always kinda hoped you were my dad… Dad.”

  “You did?” asked Francis, looking relieved that she hadn’t slapped him across the face or given him a kick in the shin.

  “When I was little I actually dreamed that you were my dad—and now my dream has finally come true! Oh, this is the happiest day of my life!” But then she sobered. “Except that I just discovered that my best friends all tried to kill me. Which is kind of a bummer.”

  “So who were the guys?” asked Odelia.

  “Wesley Trygar and his two brothers,” said Angel. “I thought I recognized Wesley—Carmel only started dating him last month so I’ve only met him once or twice. And I never met his bro
thers but I heard they both have criminal records. Car theft and burglary.”

  “And now they can add abduction to their rap sheet,” Chase grunted.

  “Looks like Carmel set the whole thing up,” said Odelia, “along with her boyfriend and…” She gave Angel a sad look. “Your four other friends.”

  “I don’t believe this,” said Angel, shaking her head. “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “They wanted to teach you a lesson,” Chase explained, who’d briefly interrogated Carmel before having her carted her off to the police station for interrogation and incarceration.

  “A lesson? What lesson?”

  “Well, it turns out that you dated Carmel’s boyfriend. One Matteo…”

  “Drews,” said Angel, nodding. “But Matteo was never Carmel’s boyfriend.”

  “No, but she fancied him,” said Odelia. “And when you started dating him she felt as if you’d betrayed the unwritten girlfriend code that you never date a boy one of your friends likes.”

  “But I asked her if she was okay with it and she said yes!”

  “She felt you shouldn’t have to ask. You should have known he was off-limits.”

  Angel stood shaking her head. “I don’t believe this.” She glanced over to the room where she’d been kept a prisoner. “So what were they planning to do with me?”

  “I think at first they just wanted to hold you and scare you,” said Odelia. “To teach you a lesson somehow. I don’t think they had a clear plan in mind. But then they soon realized they were in big trouble. You can’t just go around kidnapping people and then say it was just a joke. So when they saw the attention the kidnapping was getting, and how the police got involved, I think they seriously considered… getting rid of you permanently.”

  “Oh, no!” said Marigold, clasping a hand to her face.

  “I’m afraid so,” said Chase. “Wesley Trygar’s brothers both have form, like you said, and one of them just confessed that they planned to shoot you and bury you out there in the woods. We found shovels in the trunk of his car and a tarpaulin they were planning to put on the floor before they shot you.”