“He’s a rat,” Mrs. Brooks went on, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “He’s vermin.”
“Still a figure of speech?” asked Dooley, and I nodded. He sighed. “It’s all very confusing. Why don’t humans ever say what they actually mean?”
“He’s horse manure,” Mrs. Brooks said, and I got the impression she would have gone on for quite some time if Odelia hadn’t stemmed the flow of words.
“Are you in a position to get a person into the retirement home your husband runs, Mrs. Brooks?” she asked now.
“Oh, absolutely,” said the woman. “Were you thinking of going in yourself?”
“No, I was actually thinking about getting my grandmother in there, and then she could try and get this evidence you need.”
“No problem,” said Mrs. Brooks decidedly. “I’ll get her in there, all right.”
“One question,” said Odelia, glancing in our direction. “Are pets allowed?”
And this was the moment Dooley and I shared a look of extreme horror. Yikes!
4
That evening a family meeting had been arranged and was to take place around the dinner table. Uncle Alec had also been invited, along with his lady love Mayor Charlene Butterwick. Gran was there, of course, and also Gran’s friend Scarlett Canyon. In other words, Odelia and her husband Chase were entertaining a full house. And contrary to the way these family gatherings usually go, this one was all business: the business of killing two birds with one stone, as Odelia explained it.
“Why do they want to kill birds?” asked Dooley. “I like birds. I don’t think it’s right to kill them.”
“Coming from a cat that’s rich,” Brutus grunted as he displayed a slight grin.
“But I like birds,” Dooley reiterated. “Birds are fun. And they sound so nice.”
“Most cats like birds,” said Brutus, his grin widening. “In fact they like them so much they could eat them, and often do.”
Dooley’s eyes went wide. “Eat them! But they’re our feathered little friends!”
“Nothing wrong with eating a feathered little friend. That’s what they’re for.”
I gave Brutus a look of censure, and proceeded to comfort my stricken friend.“We all have different ways of expressing our affection,” I said, “and what Brutus means to say is that the same goes for cats and birds. You like birds because they’re fun little friends, and other cats… Well, let’s just say they feel that birds fulfill a certain need.”
“A dietary need,” said Brutus, who simply couldn’t resist putting in a final dig.
“I hope they’ll get going on this meeting soon,” said Harriet, who was studying her nails. “So far all we’ve done is listen to Tex complain about his patients.”
She was right. Some days Tex, a family doctor and Odelia’s dad, loves each and every one of his patients, and can’t stop singing their praises. Other days he seems to find fault with all of them. And today seemed to be one of those latter days, if his conversation was anything to go by.
“It’s just that over half of them have nothing wrong with them,” said the good doctor, gesturing widely and almost hitting Charlene in the snoot. “They come in and ask me to look at some suspicious spot here, or listen to some strange heart murmur there, and in practically all of those cases the suspicious spot isn’t suspicious at all, and that strange heart murmur isn’t all that strange either!”
“And that’s a good thing, wouldn’t you say, sweetie?” said Marge. “In fact if one hundred percent of your patients wouldn’t have anything wrong with them that would be even better.”
“I guess,” said Tex, though he didn’t look convinced.
“I think your patients should count themselves lucky for having such a capable, compassionate doctor as you, Tex,” said Charlene. “In fact I’m thinking about putting you forward for a special honor soon.”
This had Tex prick up his ears.“Honor? What honor?”
“The key to the city,” said Charlene. “We’re going to start honoring the people who make Hampton Cove the best small town in the county—maybe even the country—and it’s exactly people like you who make that happen. Who make the difference.”
“Why, that would be a tremendous honor,” said Tex, his mood turning around completely. “Did you hear that, honey? They want to give me the key to the city.”
“I did hear that,” said Marge. “And I agree that it’s quite an honor.”
“And the same goes for you, by the way, Marge,” said Charlene. “And you, Alec. I think it’s high time that this honor isn’t merely bestowed on celebrities and famous people or people who have made their mark in a very public way, but to the people who work night and day to make this town a great place to live. So you’re getting a key to the city, Odelia, for your work as a reporter, and you get a key for your work as a librarian, Marge, and you get one for your work in the medical field, Tex, and you for being the greatest chief of police any town would be proud to have, sweetheart.”
“And what about me?” asked Gran. “Don’t I get a key?”
“Um…” said Charlene.
“What do you want to get a key for?” asked Scarlett. “I mean, what do you actually do, when you come right down to it, Vesta?”