“Okay,” I hollered up to Bogey before I picked up the package again.
Bogey pointed in the direction of the opening to the back room. “Shake a leg, kid. I’ve got a path all picked out for you. Zoom straight ahead as fast as you can!”
“Aye, aye,” I tried to say as I held on to the knot with my teeth. I was going to salute him, but it was hard enough just to stand up and carry that package at the same time. So instead I started moving in the direction that Bogey had pointed.
“Wait when you get to the end of the row, kid.” His voice came from above me. “Stop there until you see our Mom and Officer Phoebe take off. Then run on in.”
Until I saw them take off? Where were they supposed to be going?
To tell you the truth, I had no idea what Bogey was talking about. But it was too late to ask questions now. Besides, I figured Bogey had something up his paw. The last I saw him, he was standing on the dresser, next to a group of metal kitchen canisters. And it didn’t look like those canisters were going to stay on that dresser for very long. Not with the way Bogey was scooting them over.
Maybe that was the thing about teamwork. Everyone focused on the job they had to do. Then they counted on the other part of the team to do their job, too. So I decided not to worry about Bogey’s part and just focus on my part of things. I picked up the pace and worked as hard as I could to carry that heavy package toward the back room. And let me tell you, it was a lot of work. Even for a big guy like me!
What in the world was wrapped up in that package?
I was almost out of breath when I finally paused at the end of the row. Just like Bogey had told me to. Now there was nothing but open space in front of me. That meant I had no place to hide when I ran across the floor. If our Mom and Officer Phoebe were there, they’d spot me in a heartbeat.
Kind of like the way I spotted them.
Holy Catnip!
I had barely stopped and looked up, and there they were. Heading for the back room themselves. Probably ready to get Bogey and me and go home.
I quickly set my bundle on the floor and scrunched down behind a loveseat.
“So you said another store was broken into tonight?” our Mom asked Officer Phoebe.
“Another antique store,” she nodded. “Abascal’s Antiquities.”
Our Mom shook her head. “That’s a shame. Abe Abascal just moved back to St. Gertrude and opened his store a few months ago. I know he grew up here, but he’s been in Turkey or Greece or somewhere like that for the past few decades. I hope this doesn’t give him a bad opinion of his hometown.”
“I hope not, too. Especially since St. Gertrude doesn’t normally have much crime,” Officer Phoebe responded. “But do you mind having another antique store in town? He is, after all, your competition.”
Our Mom smiled. “We may both sell antiques, but we sell very different things. Most of the things he sells comes in from overseas. I stick with things that I buy in our part of the country.”
“That’s interesting,” Officer Phoebe said. “Funny, but before tonight, I guess I’d never been inside his store. And tonight I wasn’t in there for long. Abe was so sweet when we called him down. He apologized for bothering us and insisted that everything was fine at his store. Especially since the place was all locked up and there was no sign of a break-in. Except for the alarm going off. But he said we didn’t need to look things over. He told me I probably had more important things on my plate. Then he shooed me out of there.”
Now our Mom stepped right in front of the opening to the back room. “You know, I’ll try to stop in and say hello to him one day soon. He really must be shy, because I never see him around town.”
“That would be nice,” Officer Phoebe said. “Just to welcome him back to St. Gertrude. Though watch out. He’s got a parrot in there who squawks and talks and carries on. I was glad to get out of the place.”
Our Mom laughed and took one more glance around her store. “Speaking of getting out of a place . . . Let’s go wake up the boys and get out of here.”
I took a deep breath and tried not to be upset. Any second now, our Mom would walk into the back room and find out we weren’t there. Then we would be in trouble.
That’s when it hit me. If our Mom and Officer Phoebe saw us with our package, they might take it away from us. Then we would never find out what was in it.
For all I knew, it was an important clue.
Suddenly my heart started to pound really hard. If this package was a clue, did that mean we were on an official case? Another mystery for the Buckley and Bogey Cat Detective Agency to solve?
Holy Mackerel!
That must have been why Bogey wanted me to hide it. So we could look at it first. And find out what was wrapped up in all that brown paper.
Tingles ran straight up my spine and back down again. I knew beyond a doubt that I had to get that package into the back room. Without anyone seeing me. And I had to hide it so no one would find it.
But how?
I didn’t even have a moment to think about it. Because somewhere behind me, I heard a very loud Kerrr-rrrash!
I knew it was Bogey. And I knew this was the distraction he’d been talking about!
Our Mom and Officer Phoebe took off running.
But I didn’t wait to see where they went. Instead I just grabbed the bundle at my feet. I raced across that open floor as fast as I could. The package jiggled in my mouth and the string sort of burned my gums.
Finally, I made it into the back room! I made a beeline for Bogey’s bed and the spot where he hid his cat treats. Then I scooted his bed over a little. I dropped my package behind it, right next to a curtain against the wall. I hooked a claw into the curtain and pulled it over my bundle. Then I scooted the cat bed back into place, on top of it all.
Without looking back, I ran straight to my own bed.
Just as I did, Bogey came flying in. Or at least, I thought it was Bogey. All I really saw was a black streak. I wasn’t sure his feet even touched the ground.
He flopped down on his bed and grinned at me. “Got it hidden, kid?”
“Got it,” I nodded. “What was that noise out there?”
His grin went even wider. “Kitchen canisters, kid. Made a huge racket when they hit the ground.”
I don’t know why, but I kind of chuckled.
“Okay, kid, act like you’re sound asleep,” he told me.
I curled into my own bed. “But Bogey, when are we going to see what’s in that package?”
Bogey sighed. “It’ll have to wait, kid. Until we can get back here.”
Not exactly what I wanted to hear. But I didn’t get a chance to say more.
Because right that minute, our Mom and Officer Phoebe walked in.
“I guess I must have left those canisters too close to the edge,” our Mom said.
“Sometimes these old buildings have drafts,” Officer Phoebe told her. “But we know that no one else is in here. We already checked the place out completely before you came down.”
Our Mom shook her head. “Well, in any case, it’s time to get out of here. Would you mind taking Bogey? I’ll get Buckley.”
With those words, Officer Phoebe reached down and picked up Bogey. He rested his front legs up on her shoulder. Then our Mom leaned over and I climbed into her arms. I gave her a kiss on the nose. Just because I loved her.
She laughed and hugged me tight. “Okay, boys. We’re going straight home. No more sneaking out for you two.”
Our Mom punched the alarm code into the alarm keypad by the back door. Then Officer Phoebe opened the door and we all went outside.
Straight into the thickest fog I’ve ever seen.
Holy Catnip.
Our Mom opened the door to the truck and that’s when we heard it.
Baaaaaaaa-room! Baaaaaaaa-room!
I glanced back at Bogey. “What was that?” I meowed.
Like I said, cats always switch back to cat language when humans are around.
Before Bogey coul
d answer, our Mom asked, “Is that a foghorn?”
Officer Phoebe squinted and looked into the fog. “It sure sounds like it. But that’s weird. Last I knew, St. Gertrude didn’t have any foghorns. We’re nowhere near the ocean.”
Then we heard it again. Baaaaaaaa-room! Baaaaaaaa-room!
All of a sudden I shivered. If our town didn’t have any foghorns, then why were we hearing a foghorn now? Somebody was making that foghorn go.
“Where in the world is that coming from?” our Mom asked. I thought her voice sounded a little nervous.
Officer Phoebe put Bogey in the truck and grabbed her radio mic on her other shoulder. “I don’t know. Let me call it in.”
But before she could make the call, her radio started squawking instead. First we heard a woman’s voice saying something, then a couple of men’s voices responded. All I could understand was something about the St. Gertrude Museum.
I looked over to Bogey. He had his ears pointed straight at Officer Phoebe. He listened intently as the message was repeated. In case you didn’t know it, police talk in numbered codes over their radios. And Bogey knew those codes well.
Officer Phoebe answered her mic and turned from us.
“What is it?” I asked Bogey.
He frowned. “It’s the Museum, kid. The burglar alarm went off there, too. About fifteen minutes ago. Someone tried to break in.”
“The Museum?” I meowed as our Mom put me in the truck, too. “Isn’t that where those jeweled statues went on display?”
Bogey kept his eyes on Officer Phoebe. “Yup, kid. You’ve got it. And I’ll bet all this stuff is connected somehow.”
I looked at him. “It is?”
Bogey nodded. “I don’t know how yet, kid. But we’re gonna find out.”
“We are?” I gulped.
“Oh yeah, kid,” Bogey nodded as our Mom got in and shut the door. “And we’ve got to get to that museum and find out.”
“But how?” I glanced out into the thick fog.
Let me tell you, I sure didn’t want to go anywhere else tonight. Not in that scary fog. Right now all I wanted to do was go home.
And stay home.
But somehow I had the feeling my brother might have other ideas. Especially when he turned to me and grinned.
“I’ve got a plan,” he told me.
I flopped down on the seat and closed my eyes.
Holy Catnip!
CHAPTER 5
_____________________________
Holy Mackerel! I could hardly believe that Bogey had another plan already! Especially since we were barely on our way home from investigating at our Mom’s store.
I opened my eyes and looked at my brother. “Are we going to the Museum tonight?”
Bogey shook his head. “Nope, kid. But I can swing it so we can go tomorrow.”
I’m sure my eyes would have gone really wide right about then. If they hadn’t felt so heavy all of a sudden. “You can?”
He glanced at the fog outside the window. “Yup, kid. If I play my cards right.”
At that moment, I wasn’t sure what playing cards had to do with anything. And to tell you the truth, as cats, we didn’t exactly play a lot of cards.
I wanted to ask more, but for some reason, my mouth just wouldn’t work. I couldn’t seem to form any words, even though I wanted to learn all about Bogey’s plan. And I wanted to ask him about the package we’d just found at our Mom’s store. As well as the foghorn and the other stuff we’d heard about tonight.
I glanced up at our Mom. She was driving very, very slowly since it was hard to see in the fog. Fuzzy light filled the car every time we passed under a streetlamp. And the air smelled sort of damp and wet. I settled back into the seat and tried to keep my eyes open. To help her watch the road.
Plus, I figured a good cat detective would keep their eyes and ears open. In case we came across any clues along the way.
After all, Bogey was completely alert. His eyes were wide open as he watched outside the window.
“We’re almost home, boys,” our Mom said in a soft voice.
And that was the last I heard. I barely remembered driving into the garage and our Mom carrying me into our house. I cuddled up to her nice and tight and didn’t want to let go. She felt so warm and snuggly.
I must have slept in my cat bed for hours after that. The next thing I knew, it was noon and our Dad and Gracie were getting home from church. Our Mom had slept in since she’d been out so late the night before. She had barely taken a shower and gotten dressed.
I dragged my big, fuzzy body into the kitchen and flopped down on the floor. Our Dad was making ham sandwiches and our Mom was cooking soup.
Our Dad leaned over and gave me a little piece of ham. “Here you go, big guy.”
I meowed up to him to tell him thank you. Boy, oh boy, I sure liked ham a lot! I was about to bite into it when Gracie suddenly squealed.
I jumped up and looked at her. Was she hurt? Was she scared by a mouse or a big bug? I ran over and leaned into her legs. Just to let her know I’d be there to protect her.
I may not be the best cat detective in the world yet, but I definitely know how to take care of a bug.
“Look!” Gracie yelled and pointed to the kitchen table. “It’s ‘Take Your Cat to the Museum Day!’ At the St. Gertrude Museum!”
Our Mom blinked and our Dad crinkled his eyebrows.
“It’s what?” they both said at the same time.
Gracie picked up a piece of paper from the table. From my spot on the floor, I could see the paper had some pretty pictures and some writing on it. Before I could take a closer look, Gracie started to dance around the room with it.
“Take Your Cat to the Museum Day!” she practically sang. “It says so right here. Oh, this will be so much fun!”
She handed the paper to our Mom and ran straight back to me. Then she picked me up and started spinning around the room. Around and around and around we went. I held on for dear life and watched our kitchen go by in a big blur.
Gracie had been going through her “spinning phase” for a while now. I only hoped this phase would be over soon.
Really soon.
She finally stopped turning and held me out so she could look directly into my face. “Did you hear that, Buckley? You’re going to the Museum today.”
I was?
She set me down and I tried to walk forward. The only problem was, the room still seemed to be going in circles. I wasn’t even sure which direction was forward.
Now Bogey came and sat beside me. I could barely focus my eyes enough to see his paw reaching up under the cabinets. He snagged a bag of cat treats he had hidden there and pulled it out.
“Did you hear what Gracie told me?” I asked. “I’m going to the Museum today. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I’ve always wanted to go to the Museum. Maybe you can come, too.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered Bogey saying something last night about going to the Museum. To investigate. Maybe this “Take Your Cat to the Museum Day” would be the perfect way for us to get there! I planned to give it some more thought, just as soon as my dizziness went away and I could think again.
Bogey handed me a cat treat. “Here you go, kid. This’ll get you straightened out.”
“Thanks,” I managed to mumble.
I took the treat in my huge paw and tried to put it in my mouth. I missed the first time, but got a direct hit the second time.
I blinked my eyes and looked up at our Mom and Dad. They both stood in the middle of the room, reading the piece of paper together.
“Where did this flyer come from?” our Dad asked.
Our Mom rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing it before.”
Our Dad laughed. “I’ve never heard of ‘Take Your Cat to the Museum Day.’ Must be some new kind of marketing plan.”
Our Mom pointed to a section on the paper. “I guess so. It says it’s limited to two cats per family. And there’s fr
ee admission if you bring a cat. But this part is strange. It says black cats are preferred. Especially boy cats. No pet carriers. Collars only.”
Our Dad shook his head. “Wow. All those cats, around all those artifacts . . . Since when did the Museum start doing something like this?”
I turned to my brother. “Our Mom and Dad seem kind of surprised. Have you ever heard of this before?”
Bogey grinned. “Yup, kid. I have.”
Was there anything Bogey didn’t know about?
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sure glad Gracie got this flyer. Because I’d really like to go. How many years have they been having this?”
“This is the first year, kid,” Bogey said. “It’s brand new.”
I crinkled my brow. “Then how did you know about it?”
“Because I made the whole thing up, kid,” he said. “Last night. When we got back from our Mom’s store.”
Holy Catnip! Did I hear him right?
My chin practically hit the floor. “You made this up?”
He grabbed a cat treat for himself and then passed one to me. “You got it, kid. So we could get to the Museum. I told you I had a plan. I made up that flyer and printed it off on the computer. Then I put it on the kitchen table where Gracie would see it right after church.”
I choked on my cat treat. “But . . . but . . . won’t someone notice when we’re the only cats going to ‘Take Your Cat to the Museum Day?’ Won’t someone figure out that it’s not really real?”
Bogey grinned and glanced up at our Mom and Dad. “Don’t sweat it, kid. I’ve got it covered. I invited some other cats. And their Moms.”
Right about then, I’m sure my eyes went pretty wide. “You did?”
Bogey nodded. “Yup, kid. I emailed Ranger. And I emailed Amelia. They’re in on the whole thing. I sent each of them flyers, too. They’re putting them on their kitchen tables at their houses. They’ll make sure their Moms see them, too.”
For a few seconds, I couldn’t say a word. I just kind of sputtered, “Uh . . . uh . . . uh . . .”
Ranger and Amelia were friends of ours. We’d met them when we were on another case at a cat show. And they’d both helped us out just when we needed it. We’d stayed friends with them ever since.
The Case of the Jewel Covered Cat Statues Page 4