Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Alibi

Cars zoomed past us, and I couldn’t help but wonder where they were all going. It was way past human bedtime, after all, and the only creatures who should be stirring were us cats. And maybe owls. And bats. And mice. Oh, and coyotes, of course. Just then, a loud howl rose up from the bushes nearby, and Dooley and I put a bit more pep in our step.

The first coyote had yet to be spotted on Long Island but you never knew. And I certainly didn’t want to be the first one to spot it and be eaten by the darn thing!

Soon the strip mall’s bright neon lights beckoned us and we headed straight for the McDonald’s restaurant which, much to our surprise, was still open for business!

“Let’s hope we find this Big Mac,” I said as we headed straight for the dumpster parked on the McDonald’s parking lot.

“I could use a Big Mac right now,” lamented Dooley. “I’m starving.”

“I’m pretty peckish myself,” I admitted.

We’d been at this detecting business for hours now, and I could use some food. But duty called, and it wasn’t as if I was going to starve to death by skipping a meal. Or two.

The McDonald’s dumpster appeared pretty much deserted when we arrived, and my heart sank. Had we really come all this way for nothing? That was just sad. And a testament to the learning curve we were on as junior feline sleuths. This wouldn’t have happened to Aurora Teagarden. When Aurora Teagarden went someplace she always found fresh clues. Or maybe the people making those Hallmark movies simply cut out all the boring parts.

“I think I hear something,” said Dooley as we approached.

“A rat probably,” I said, trepidation making me halt in my tracks. There are cats that eat rats. And then there’s me and Dooley. We don’t like rats. In fact rats scare me to death. They’re big, they’re mean, and they have some really sharp teeth. You get the picture.

“Who goes there?” suddenly a voice rose up from the dumpster’s innards.

“It’s a rat!” Dooley hissed. “Every cat for himself!” And he scooted off to hide underneath a parked Toyota Land Cruiser!

Suddenly a head appeared over the dumpster’s edge. I stared at the head. The head stared back at me. Clarice had been right. It was like looking in a mirror. The head belonged to a blorange cat with a gorgeous set of whiskers and a pink-colored little button of a nose.

“Hey, Big Mac,” I said, giving the cat a little wave.

“Hey, you,” he said, then blinked confusedly. He picked up a piece of burger and stared at it, then back at me. “Some joker put shrooms in my burger. I’m hallucinating.”

“No, you’re not. I’m really here,” I said. “My name is Max, and this…” I searched around for Dooley. “Um… Anyway. I’m here because Clarice sent me. You know Clarice, right?”

The big cat shivered visibly. “I wish I didn’t. She scares me.”

“She scares me, too.”

Big Mac jumped down from the dumpster without dropping the piece of burger, which made him a superhero in my book. He studied me intently for a few moments, while I studied him. He was a little pudgier, but otherwise he could have been my brother from another mother. Or maybe even from the same mother. I’m not big on genealogy, so I never bothered to create my family tree, but now might be a good time to correct the oversight.

“Was your mom—” I began.

“Was your mom—” he simultaneously said.

We both grinned awkwardly.

“Were you born—” I said.

“Were you born—” he said.

From behind us, suddenly Dooley’s voice rang out. “Oh. My. God. You guys look exactly the same!”

“Well, I’m a little slimmer,” I said.

“You look really fit,” said Big Mac. “Have you been working out?”

“Nah, not really,” I said. “I just try to watch what I eat.”

“He doesn’t,” said Dooley. “Odelia puts him on a diet from time to time, though.”

“Odelia? Is that your human?” asked Big Mac.

I nodded. “She’s great.”

“How long have you had her?”

“Straight from the litter,” I said.

“I don’t actually remember my mother,” said Big Mac, taking a tentative bite from the burger, then munching with enthusiasm when he failed to detect the taste of shrooms. “I mean, I know I had a mother, but my first memories are a little hazy. I remember I was with this old lady, but then she died, and I got transferred to her daughter, who didn’t like cats, and then she passed me on to her cousin, who liked cats so much she kept a dozen, which was pretty horrible.”

I nodded. Most cats hate other cats. Dooley and I are the exceptions to the rule, I guess. We genuinely like each other, and most other cats we meet. We’re weird that way.

Big Mac heaved a deep sigh as he delved deep into his recollection. “Lemme see, what happened next—Oh, that’s right. She got arrested for growing weed.” He spread his paws. “And that’s how I ended up here.”

“On the street,” I said, nodding. “Living from crumbs and scraps.”

He frowned. “Are you kidding? My human runs this McDonald’s. Feeds me all the burgers I want. He’s the weed woman’s brother and promised to look after us as long as his sister enjoys the hospitality of the Suffolk County penal system. Only problem is that since I live with him I’ve gained ten pounds. By the time Sissy gets released she won’t recognize me.” He devoured the final remnants of the burger and burped. “So what did Clarice want?”

“I don’t get it,” said Dooley. “If this man feeds you all the food you want, why are you—”

“Checking out this dumpster?” He shrugged. “Variety. You wouldn’t believe what people throw away. Once I found a container of perfectly good chicken nuggets in here.”

“But if you want chicken nuggets, why don’t you ask your human?” said Dooley.

Big Mac stared at him, then laughed. “Ask my human! As if he could understand a word I say! You’re funny, little guy.”

I decided not to mention that our human could understand us perfectly. It would probably boggle his mind. Not to mention he might think we were yanking his chain.

“Clarice actually sent us here because she thought you might be a witness to a murder,” I said, deciding to dispense with the chitchat and get down to brass tacks.

Big Mac’s eyes went wide as… Big Macs. “Murder!”

“Over at the Hampton Cove library. Were you by any chance hanging out there?”

“I was,” he said. “But I didn’t see no murder. Not a one.”

“It happened inside the library. Around eight o’clock-ish. Did you see anyone go in through the back entrance around that time?”

Big Mac thought hard, even sinking down on his haunches and puckering up his face. “Yeah,” he said finally. “In fact I saw several people go in. I didn’t pay them a lot of attention. Except for the pizza guy. I love pizza.” He licked his lips. “The one thing McDonald’s doesn’t have. Which is the reason I like to head into town of an evening. There’s a crazy tasty pizza joint right around the corner from the library. In fact there are two.”

“Could you… identify these people?” I asked. “I mean, if you saw them again, would you recognize them?”

“Sure. Why? Do you think one of them was a killer?”

I nodded, an idea forming in my head. “What do you say we take you downtown to look at some pictures? And when you’re through our human will buy you the biggest, juiciest, most delicious pizza you can imagine.”

He licked his lips. “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not kidding,” I said.

“He’s not kidding,” Dooley confirmed.

“Any pizza I want?”

“Any pizza you want.”