by Nic Saint
“Hang in there, babe. I’m on my way.”
Max and Dooley had joined her as they walked up along the ramp.
“I think Alka-Seltzer sales will go through the roof the next couple of days,” said Max.
“And a lot of Duffers will be dumped into the garbage disposal,” said Dooley.
“Oh, God. You’re right, Dooley!” said Odelia, and took out her phone again. This time she called Dan. After she’d told him the story, and given him time to digest it, she said, “Can you put an alert on the website for people to bring all of their Duffers to the police station? I think they’ll want to examine them.”
“Will do,” said Dan. “This is a real horror story you just told me, Odelia,” he added, sounding entirely too happy, then promptly hung up to start working on the story.
They’d arrived above ground, where the ramp led straight to a short exit road.
“Clever,” she said. The ramp, and as a consequence the exit and entrance to the factory, was well-hidden from the neighboring houses, and if the Duffers were smart about it, they could have limited transportation to the wee hours of the morning, and kept the production facility concealed from nosy neighbors, or the authorities.
“Devious,” Max corrected her.
“I think we better get back to the house. This is going to be a long day, you guys.”
“And a long night.”
She crouched down and held up her hand. Two paws immediately followed suit, and the three of them high-fived. “Well done,” she said. “If it hadn’t been for you…”
“We didn’t do much this time,” said Dooley. “We got caught, escaped, then got caught again, and escaped again. The real hero is Clarice. She busted everyone out of that place.”
“I’m going to buy her a big slice of…” She grimaced. “Have you ever considered becoming vegetarians?”
Two pairs of cat’s eyes stared back at her with abject horror.
“I guess not. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m never eating meat again.”
Epilogue
“Yuck,” said Harriet. “I’m never eating meat again. Ever! Never, never, never!”
“Yeah, you say that now,” said Brutus soothingly.
“Cats have to eat meat,” said Dooley. “It was on the Discovery Channel. We’re carmovores.”
“Carnivores,” I corrected him.
“That’s what I said. Carmovores. Which means we have to eat meat or we get sick and die.”
“What about humans?” asked Harriet. “Are they karmaboars, too?”
“Carnivores,” I muttered as I let my gaze drift across the backyard.
“I guess. I’m not sure, though,” said Dooley.
“Oh, they didn’t show that on your Discovery Channel, did they?” Harriet said, getting a little worked up. “They didn’t say that humans eat cats! And little boys and fat police chiefs!”
“Would you call Uncle Alec fat?” I said.
We all fastened our eyes on Odelia’s uncle.
“He is a little pudgy around the middle,” said Brutus. “Which is probably why those crooks chose him to be turned into a sausage.”
“Come, come, Brutus,” I said. “They were never going to turn Uncle Alec into a sausage, or any of those other prisoners, for that matter.”
“I know that’s what those Duffers told the police, but I don’t believe one word they’re saying,” said Harriet stubbornly.
“Well, I do,” I said. “And lab tests bear out their version of the story as well.”
“Lab tests can be manipulated.”
“Of course they can,” I said, not wanting to get into an argument with Harriet when she was like this.
“They should never have moved production of the Duffer from Romania to the US,” said Brutus. “If they hadn’t, none of this would have happened.”
“They would have kept on putting dead Romanians in our sausages!” Harriet said.
Abe Cornwall, the county coroner, had conducted several tests and the Duffers that were sold through the Duffer Store did indeed contain human flesh, but the Duffers had explained they used to buy up bodies from local Romanian morgues and hospitals and used those in their sausages. They also bought up cat cadavers from local vets. In fact they’d established such solid relations with their suppliers over the years they’d even had a town called after them in Grandpa Duffer’s birth country. But since Romania had joined the EU, laws had become a lot stricter, and food safety had become an issue, as had the crackdown on rampant corruption. So much so that they’d run out of cadavers at some point—the real reason for the sudden lack of Duffers—and had to find a solution.
So they’d decided to move production to the US and had made a deal with the Cosa Nostra to take over their dead. Instead of burying their enemies in concrete or dumping them in the East River, the mobsters were to put them on ice and sell them to the Duffers by the pound. And as far as cats was concerned, with seventy-five million cats, the US is the country with the largest cat population in the world, so supply wasn’t an issue.
“Is it true they added dog meat to the Chinese Duffer?” asked Brutus.
“It would appear so,” I said. “The Chinese were apparently crazy about the Duffer.”
“I can’t believe the chances they took,” said Brutus. “They should have known that people would go to the police when their cats started to go missing.”
“Yeah, well, they were under tremendous pressure. They needed fresh Duffers and they needed them quick. Demand was increasing by leaps and bounds but production in Romania had ground to a halt, and if they couldn’t deliver soon, their customers might go to the competition and they would have missed a golden opportunity.”
“I thought they said every Duffer was handmade? Here in the US?” said Brutus.
“That’s the story they told their customers. In actual fact the Duffers have always been made in a factory in Romania, ever since the first Duffer was put inside its casing.”
“I still can’t believe how anyone could do such a thing,” said Harriet.
In the backyard, the party was in full swing, though it wasn’t much of a party. After the events of the past week, the entire Poole family had decided to go vegetarian. So no more sausages, or steaks, or ribs. From now on only tofu was on the menu, and lentils. And as Uncle Alec stared morosely into his dish of lentils, he didn’t look happy.
The FDA had swept down on Hampton Cove, and the attention the whole case had garnered had really put the spotlight on our small community. The Duffer was national news, and camera crews roamed the streets, eager to interview Duffer fans.
The scandal had forced Mayor Turner to step down, as well as the secretary of agriculture, and the head of the FDA. In fact the Duffer had caused a lot of heads to roll.
Anti-meat activists and representatives from animal rights organizations had also swept down on Hampton Cove, and our town had become the center of attention. Chief Alec probably would have been forced to step down, too, if he hadn’t been one of the victims, and instead had become a popular guest on late-night talk shows. He was even rumored to be the next mayor, though I had my doubts about that.
Uncle Alec loves being chief of police, and once the hubbub died down, as no doubt it would, he’d still be chief, and some whippersnapper would become the new mayor.
Uncle Alec kept pushing his lentils around his plate.
“Delicious, right?” said Marge.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, forcing a smile.
“Well, eat up. It’s good for you.”
“Uh-huh,” said Alec, and managed to swallow a whole spoon without wincing. A definite improvement.
Tex didn’t look happy, either, but that was mainly because he’d been relieved from his duties as grill master. Tough to be a grill master when there’s nothing to grill. Though he could have tried his hand at the tofu, of course. Difficult to burn tofu. Though I was sure he would give it his best shot.
“I just hope this whole thing goes aw
ay soon,” said Alec. “Those reporters keep showing up at the office, looking for a quote. I’m all out of quotes!”
“I can’t even do my job,” said Odelia, munching on a piece of eggplant. “I’m supposed to chase the story, not be the story. Now they all want to interview me!”
“Well, you did crack the story, honey,” said Marge. “Here. Have some quinoa.”
“Thanks, Mom,” said Odelia without much enthusiasm.
“I’m sure this will all blow over in another week or so,” said Chase as he speared a falafel and put it into his mouth. “New scandals pop up all the time, and when they do, the media horde will descend on some other town. Or go back to Washington or New York.”
He’d had trouble doing his job, too, as he’d been the one to catch Marco and Gordo and had been declared the hero of the hour, along with Odelia. Their picture had even graced the cover of Time Magazine as the crime-fighting couple of the year.
“So they were never going to turn Alec into a sausage?” asked Tex, not for the first time.
“No, they were not,” said Odelia. “Marco and Gordo had been hired to provide security. Their orders were to make sure no one discovered the new production line. And if they could catch a cat or two, they earned bonus points. Only they took their job a little too seriously, and knocked out anyone who came within fifteen feet of the house.”
“And they figured the more cats they collected, the more money they stood to make,” Chase continued, “so they ended up trapping Hampton Cove’s entire cat population.”
“At least something good came out of it,” Gran murmured. She’d been very quiet throughout dinner, barely touching her plate of yellow split peas. Only now did the others notice she’d been playing with a new toy.
“Is that… a smartphone?” asked Marge.
“Oh, you’ve noticed, have you?” said Gran. “Why, yes, it is, sweet child. Oh, and look what it can do.” And before our eyes, she folded it open. It was a foldable smartphone! “And look what happens now,” Gran continued, clearly in excellent mood. And she folded it closed again. “Why, it’s almost like a miracle, wouldn’t you say? A real foldable phone!”
“Where did you get that?” asked Tex, flabbergasted.
“I have my sources,” said Gran with a smug smile. “Dick Bernstein gave it to me, okay? He’s not as stingy with his money as some people,” she added with a pointed look at Tex.
“Dick Bernstein from the senior center?” asked Marge. “But why would he—”
“Because we’re going steady, all right? He’s always been nuts about me and when I saw him showing off his new phone I told him I’d be his girlfriend if he let me have it.”
“You did what?!” cried Marge.
“Ma, that’s not very nice of you,” said Uncle Alec, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in the fight. The lack of meat probably had sapped him of his strength.
“Who cares? I wanted a phone, and now I got it. See? It folds open like this, and then it closes again like this. It folds open like this, and—”
“Gran, I don’t think you should…” Odelia began.
“Shush. You’re all jealous of my new phone. So it folds open like this, and then I close it again like this. See? Big screen, small screen. Big screen, small screen. Pretty neat, huh?”
Suddenly there was a light popping sound, and smoke poured out of the phone.
“Eek!” said Gran, and threw the phone into the pot of miso soup.
It made a sizzling sound, and immediately sank to the bottom. And when she fished it out again, and opened it, nothing happened.
“It broke!” she cried. “The damn thing’s gone and died on me!”
“Ah, well,” said Tex, a beautiful smile spreading across his face. “These things happen.”
“It wasn’t even mine!” said Gran. “Dick just said I could borrow it, not break it!”
“I’m sure Dick won’t mind,” said Tex, as he dug into his tofu burger with sudden relish. “In fact I’m sure Dick will be more than happy to buy you another one.”
Before anyone could stop her, Gran had picked up the pot of miso soup and was pouring it out over Tex’s head. “This is all your fault, Ebenezer Scrooge!”
“This is what happens when humans go vegetarian,” said Brutus. “They go nuts.”
“Tell me about it,” I said as I watched Tex fish a piece of tofu from his collar.
Clarice, who was the real, unsung hero of the events that had rocked our town, jumped gracefully up onto the porch swing. She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed.
“So where’s the meat?” she asked. “Where are the sausages? Where are the burger patties? And where’s the steak and fries?”
“No steak, no sausages, and no burger patties,” said Dooley. “And no steak and fries.”
She frowned. “What kind of a barbecue is this? It looks more like a funeral. And why is Tex wearing a soup terrine on his head?”
“I think it’s Berghoff, actually,” I said.
“It’s a vegetarian barbecue, Clarice,” Dooley explained.
Clarice hissed her disappointment. “What nonsense!”
“Yeah, they may never eat meat again,” said Harriet.
We all lapsed into silence. We hadn’t had meat in days, Odelia taking away our regular kibble and soft food and replacing it with a home-made variety consisting of bread, lentils, and vegetables. It was horrible, and I’d never felt so weak and discouraged as I had now. Instead of being feted as heroes, we were being punished. Or at least that’s how it felt. And it wasn’t just us. The whole town had suddenly gone vegetarian.
Suddenly Clarice hopped down from the swing. “I’m off,” she announced curtly.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“You know me, Max. I’m a strictly meat kind of girl.” And she started walking away. We eagerly stared after her, an empty, rumbling sensation in the pit of our stomachs.
She glanced over her shoulder, then cracked us a smile. “All those who want a tasty morsel of meat, follow me.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, we all jumped off the swing. And then we were chasing after Clarice, who was moving off mightily fast, setting a pretty deft pace.
“Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley eagerly.
“I have no idea, Dooley, and I don’t care.”
And I didn’t. As long as there was meat at the end of this tunnel, I was on board.
“But what if it’s rat, Max?” asked Dooley. “You know how much Clarice likes rat.”
I wavered, but only briefly. “Don’t be a snob, Dooley,” I said. “Rats are animals, too. And they deserve to be eaten just as much as the next turkey or chicken does.”
And so off we went, into a bright future that held the only thing that can cheer up a cat, even more so than a cuddle or a pat on the head: a nice, tasty morsel of meat.
Yum!
THE END
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About Nic
Nic Saint is the pen name for writing couple Nick and Nicole Saint. They’ve penned novels in the romance, cat sleuth, middle grade, suspense, comedy and cozy mystery genres. Nicole has a background in accounting and Nick in political science and before being struck by the writing bug the Saints worked odd jobs around the world (including massage therapist in Mexico, gardener in Italy, restaurant manager in India, and Berlitz teacher in Belgium).
When they’re not writing they enjoy Christmas-themed Hallmark movies (whether it’s Christmas or not), all manner of pastry, comic books, a daily dose of yoga (to limber up those limbs), and spoiling their big red tomcat Tommy.
www.nicsaint.com
Also by Nic Saint
The Mysteries of Max
Purrfect Murder
Purrfectly Deadly
Purrfect Revenge
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
Purrfect Heat
Purrfect Crime
Purrfect Rivalry
Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)
Purrfect Peril
Purrfect Secret
Purrfect Alibi
Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)
Purrfect Obsession
Purrfect Betrayal
Purrfectly Clueless
Box Set 4 (Books 10-12)
Purrfectly Royal
Purrfect Cut
Purrfect Trap
Nora Steel
Murder Retreat
The Kellys
Murder Motel
Death in Suburbia
Emily Stone
Murder at the Art Class
Washington & Jefferson
First Shot
Alice Whitehouse
Spooky Times
Spooky Trills
Spooky End
Spooky Spells
Ghosts of London
Between a Ghost and a Spooky Place
Public Ghost Number One
Ghost Save the Queen
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Tale of Two Harrys
Ghost of Girlband Past
Ghostlier Things
Charleneland
Deadly Ride
Final Ride
Neighborhood Witch Committee
Witchy Start
Witchy Worries
Witchy Wishes
Saffron Diffley
Crime and Retribution
Vice and Verdict
The B-Team
Once Upon a Spy
Tate-à-Tate
Enemy of the Tates
Ghosts vs. Spies
The Ghost Who Came in from the Cold
Witchy Fingers