Purrfect Shark (Max 91) Preview

Purrfect Shark (Max 91) Preview

Jumping The Cat

Marge and Tex had won a two-week stay at the Hampton Cove Resort & Spa and planned to make good use of the opportunity. Unfortunately the resort was being plagued by a thief who enjoyed robbing its guests. Fortunately Gran and Scarlett were on the case. Since the police department was struggling with manpower issues, they had offered the services of the neighborhood watch and were keen to catch the thief. Unfortunately before long one of the guests was found dead on the beach, seemingly the victim of a shark attack. Fortunately the shark that had been seen in the waters wasn’t to blame. Unfortunately it soon became clear that the victim had been murdered in quite a gruesome way. Fortunately Odelia and Chase arrived to look into the case. Unfortunately they asked me to talk to the shark…

Chapter One

Kimmy and Kitty Davis were most definitely NOT having a good time. In fact, what they were living through was probably the WORST time ANYONE could have—EVER! The twins had been lured into babysitting duties at the Hampton Cove Resort & Spa by their mom, who pretty much ran the resort with her sisters and Grandma, as a way to make a little money during the summer holidays. Though secretly, Kimmy suspected Mom simply wanted to keep them close so she could keep an eye on them.

Originally, they were supposed to travel to Europe with their dad and his new girlfriend, but since they hated the woman, they hadn’t been keen. And so when Mom suggested they spend the summer at the resort, they had jumped at the chance. They got to stay at the big house with Grandma Bea, which was always fun, and had pretty much hoped to spend a leisurely and relaxing time lounging around at the pool, meeting boys, and partying every night, all night. Instead, Mom and Auntie Grace, who was the general manager of the resort, had them on babysitting duties and animator-slash-entertainer for the older kids, a job they pretty much HATED! Those kids were BRUTAL! In fact, the only one who hadn’t made their lives miserable was a little girl named Grace Kingsley.

Grace’s grandparents were staying at the resort and also her great-grandmother, who was a real pistol. Kimmy had met the family and had to say that she liked Marge Poole the best, and also her husband Doctor Poole. The couple had won a competition and the prize was a two-week stay at the resort. The funny thing was that they actually lived in Hampton Cove, so they were already familiar with the resort. In fact, Kimmy had been to see Doctor Poole once upon a time when she was suffering from persistent stomach pains, and he had been so nice to her—not like the doctors she had met during her time at university this past year. She and her twin sister Kitty were sharing a dorm room, even though they had different majors. They had been inseparable since birth, and even now that they were going to uni they were still inseparable.

“I really wish Mom would change her mind,” she told her sister as they took a break from their grueling schedule. The kids were playing in the pool and even though they should be keeping them busy with games and whatnot, they did NOT have the ENERGY!

“She shouldn’t have done this to us,” Kitty agreed. “She shouldn’t have tricked us into this lousy job.”

“Even the pay is lousy.”

“I don’t care about the pay. I care about my mental health,” said Kitty. “If this keeps up much longer, I’m not going to survive, I can tell you that right now!”

“You’re right. This is child abuse and we should probably sue Mom. Take her to court.”

“They’ll side with her. Judges ALWAYS side with the parents. It’s SO not fair!”

Kimmy closed her eyes for a moment. Lying on the chaise lounge was all she was capable of right now, and she was glad for the respite. “I think we should tell Dad.”

“Tell him what, exactly?”

“That Mom tricked us! And then he can talk to her and…”

“And what? Do you really think Mom will listen to Dad, of all people?”

Their parents had recently split up, after Dad had decided that he wanted to be a rock star. It hadn’t gone well, and in the end he had to abandon his crazy dream and find himself another job since he had left the well-paying one he had to move to Nashville. What he hadn’t counted on was that he didn’t have one ounce of talent. He couldn’t sing, he couldn’t play an instrument—nothing. He figured most rock stars didn’t play an instrument either, and that you didn’t have to be able to sing to make a career as a singer. It was the most ridiculous thing, and Mom hadn’t taken kindly to Dad’s midlife crisis. Since the big crisis in their marriage, Dad had come to his senses and had begged Mom to take him back, but Mom had been implacable and so now the couple’s divorce was final, and both parents had gone their separate ways, with Mom dating an architect and Dad dating a woman ten years his junior who also had dreams of being something—the girls didn’t know what exactly, but if you heard her explain, she was going to make it big.

Well, good for her. As long as she didn’t bother them with it, it was fine with the girls.

“Will you look at that,” said Kitty.

Kimmy opened her eyes. “What?”

“It’s Grace’s crazy great-grandmother. She and that funny-looking friend of hers.”

Kimmy glanced in the direction her sister was pointing and saw that Vesta Muffin and her friend Scarlett Canyon had dressed to impress, Scarlett with a skimpy bikini that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, and her friend in the kind of bathing suit that used to be popular in the nineteenth century. It didn’t show one inch of skin and covered the woman from head to toe. She looked like a penguin. Kimmy grinned. “We should take a picture. Add it to our Insta.”

She and Kitty had started an Insta chronicling their summer from hell, with pictures of all the amazing things they encountered at the resort. Their mom had told them they couldn’t post pictures of people without their permission, but that hadn’t stopped the girls from going ahead and doing exactly that.

“This is too cool,” said Kitty as she discreetly snapped a couple of pictures of the strange pair. “I can’t believe they’re friends. They’re so different.”

“They’re the exact same age,” said Kimmy. “Can you believe it?”

“If I were allergic to the sun, like Grace’s great-grandma is, I’d simply stay inside.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” said Kitty with a grin as she snapped a couple more pictures and added a video to the mix.

At least they’d have plenty of hits on their Insta if they kept this up. Behind the two old ladies, a very large man came waddling past. He was so red in the face that he looked ready to explode, and Kimmy winced. “Ouch,” she said.

Grace came climbing out of the pool and hurried up to them and jumped straight onto the chaise lounge, splashing Kimmy with water from the pool. “Kimmy!” she yelled as she slung her arms around Kimmy’s neck.

“Grace!” she yelled back as she hugged the little girl. “Where’s your grandpa and grandma?”

Grace pointed to the other side of the pool, where Doctor Poole and his wife were enjoying a leisurely time in the shade of a large umbrella. They weren’t taking any chances and had been very diligent in applying sunblock every hour, on the hour, and extending the courtesy to their granddaughter—a wise practice.

“Timmy splashed me,” Grace complained.

“Did he now?” said Kimmy, as she sought out the annoying little brat. Ever since Grace had arrived at the resort, the kid, who was a year older than she was, had singled her out for a campaign of harassment akin to bullying. And in spite of numerous warnings from both Kimmy and Kitty, he seemed determined to keep it up until his vacation was over.

“I’ll talk to him again, all right,” she promised the little girl.

Grace nodded. “He’s not nice!”

“No, he certainly isn’t,” said Kimmy.

“He says I look like a jellyfish.”

“Where does he get that idea?”

Grace shrugged and held up her hands in an exaggerated fashion. “I don’t know,” she said in that comical way of hers.

“If he keeps this up, I’ll have to talk to his parents,” said Kimmy. “And remove him from the group. He won’t like that.”

Grace shook her head. “He’s the leader of the group. And I’m his slave,” she said. “But I don’t want to be Timmy’s slave!”

“Poor girl,” said Kimmy. “Who wants to be anybody’s slave?”

“Not me!”

“Why don’t we talk to him now,” Kimmy suggested.

Grace nodded. “Tell him I’m not his slave?”

“I’ll tell him that and a lot more,” said Kimmy, determined to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.

And so she took the little girl’s hand and together they walked to the edge of the pool. She saw Timmy the Menace lording it over a small group of kids, acting all tough and in charge. But when he saw Kimmy standing there with Grace, he piped down quickly. She hooked her finger and told him to get out of the pool. Meekly, he swam over.

“Did you tell Grace that she is your slave?” she asked.

“I did not!” he said.

“You did too!” said Grace.

“And did you tell her that she looks like a jellyfish?”

“Well, she does look like a jellyfish,” said Timmy. “In that bathing suit of hers. It’s blue and purple, just like a jellyfish.”

“Listen here, Timmy,” said Kimmy as she crouched down, “you can’t say these things, all right? And you can’t tell anyone that they’re your slave. So are you going to behave from now on, or do you want me to tell your mom and dad?”

The kid got a sort of mutinous look on his face that she knew all too well. “I never said that she is my slave,” he insisted.

“You did!” said Grace. “You said I’m your slave and I should do what you tell me to and that if I don’t do what you tell me to you’re going to punish me by turning me from a jellyfish into a toad!”

He shrugged. “Says you.”

“It’s true!” A triumphant smile came over the little girl’s face. “I’ve got witnesses.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

Grace pointed to a pair of cats who were sitting in the shade of the umbrella protecting Grace’s grandparents from the blazing sun. “They saw the whole thing!”

Timmy looked incredulous. “They’re cats!”

“So? They’ll back me up.”

“Okay, look here,” said Kimmy, who was getting tired of this argument. “If you don’t stop harassing Grace, I’m going to talk to your parents, and you won’t be part of this group anymore. Is that understood?”

Timmy looked disappointed. “But I don’t want to be kicked out of the group!”

“Then see that you behave from now on.”

He nodded unhappily. “Oh, all right.”

“So what do we say?” Kimmy prompted.

The kid grimaced, as if he was being put through the most horrible torment.

“Timmy?”

“I’m sorry, all right?” he said. “I’m sorry I called you a jellyfish.”

“I’m not a jellyfish,” Grace insisted.

“Can I go now?” asked Timmy.

“Yes, but don’t make me have to talk to you again.”

He shook his head and let himself fall back into the water with a big splash. Moments later, he was playing again with an energy and zest for the game that made Kimmy feel tired simply from watching.

“Thank you, Kimmy,” said Grace as she gripped her hand tightly and gave it a vigorous shake.

“You’re very welcome, Gracey,” she said. “And if he does it again, you come to me immediately, all right? This was his final warning.”

She watched as Grace hurried around the pool and jumped up onto her grandmother’s chaise lounge, knocking the thick novel Marge had been reading from her grip. “I’m not a jellyfish!” she yelled, causing Marge to give Kimmy a look of bewilderment.

As Kimmy returned to her own chaise lounge, she saw from the corner of her eye that her mom had exited the resort and was on her way over. And so she sighed deeply, made eye contact with her sister, and the two girls took up their position in the pool to do more of that entertaining and monitoring they had been hired to do.

God. This was going to be one LOOOOOONG summer!!!!!!

Chapter Two

Vesta had watched the altercation between her great-granddaughter Grace and this annoying little punk with a kindling eye. If it was up to her, she would have dragged this little brat out of the pool and given his buttocks a good thrashing, but since her daughter had told her not to get involved, she couldn’t, so she simply simmered. According to Marge, the two girls the resort had hired as monitors had the whole situation well in hand, though Vesta had her doubts about that. Those girls looked like teenagers themselves and seemed to prefer lounging around the pool instead of getting into the weeds with the group of kids they were supposed to be entertaining. But what did she know?

“Those twins are laughing at us,” Scarlett informed her. “I just know they are. Every time they see us, they can’t stop giggling like crazy and snapping pictures of us.”

“So what?” said Vesta. “Let them laugh all they want. Wait till they’re our age. Let’s see if they will still be laughing.”

“It’s this bikini,” said Scarlett as she inspected the tiny piece of fabric that barely managed to contain her ample assets. “I know I shouldn’t have believed Ira when she told me it’s the latest in fashion.”

“What does Ira know about fashion?” she said. “Have you seen the way she dresses? If that’s the latest fashion, my name is Kim Kardashian, and it’s not, so it isn’t.”

“At least it’s getting me a lot of attention from Sylvester,” said Scarlett.

Sylvester McCade was the yoga teacher, and since he was the hottest male at the resort, they both immediately had fallen for the man. Unfortunately he seemed impervious to their charms.

“I think Sylvester’s taken,” she informed her friend. “By one of those twins over there.”

Scarlett made a face. “What do these girls have that I don’t?” she complained.

“Youth, for one thing.” It was always the same thing, wasn’t it? No matter how old they were, men always preferred youth. But then she had long ago given up on males. It was better that way. Better for her peace of mind, and her friendship with Scarlett.

“I think Sylvester is a fool,” Scarlett grumbled. “Hot as hell, but a darn fool.”

“I just hope that kid won’t bully Grace anymore,” she said as she cut a dirty look at Timmy Cooper. He had received a good talking-to from Kimmy, though it could have been Kitty, as the two girls looked so much alike it was impossible to keep them apart.

“He won’t bother her anymore,” said Scarlett. “I just heard Kimmy tell him that if he doesn’t behave, she will kick him out of the group and also tell his parents.”

“Mh. Kids like that need more than idle threats to change their ways,” she said. “They need a lesson that can only be applied with a flat hand to a receptive bottom.”

“Vesta!” said Scarlett with a laugh. “Corporal punishment went out of style years ago, or haven’t you been told?”

“Too bad,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind corporally punishing that horrible little punk to within an inch of his life.”

“Well, don’t,” said Scarlett. “We have more important things to do.”

They watched as their friend Denice Sutt came walking up, a pep in her step, carrying that oversized beach bag she always liked to lug around. They had met Denice only a couple of days ago and already Vesta felt as if they’d known the woman all their lives. Which is why they had pretty much from the get-go confided in her about the important mission they had embarked upon at the resort. And since Denice was alone there and seemed bored out of her skull, she had asked if she could assist them in their inquiries.

“So what’s new?” asked Denice as she took the third chaise lounge and spread her bony frame with relish.

“Nothing new,” said Scarlett.

“No more thieving?” asked Denice, and almost seemed disappointed.

When resort management had asked Vesta’s son Alec if he could look into a spate of thefts at the resort, he had unfortunately been forced to decline, citing lack of manpower. But then he’d had a most original solution to the problem that the Wheeler family, who owned the resort, were faced with: a sneak thief who had been robbing their guests at every possible opportunity. And so he had suggested that the neighborhood watch make themselves useful by going undercover at the resort and catching this nasty crook.

Grace Wheeler had agreed, and had offered them the full package: a room all to their own, three meals a day at the popular restaurant, and all they had to do was mingle with the guests and find out who could possibly be targeting the resort’s upscale clientele.

In other words: the best assignment ever, and they had Alec to thank for it.

As luck would have it, Vesta’s daughter Marge and Marge’s husband Tex had won a two-week stay at the resort, all expenses paid, so it was like a family gathering. And now that they had Denice on their team, who was a veteran of staying at the resort, it wouldn’t be long before they caught the culprit. Though as Scarlett had told Vesta, hopefully they wouldn’t catch him too soon. Not before they had taken full advantage of all the amenities the resort had to offer its discerning guests, of which there were many this season.

“You know what we should have done?” said Scarlett. “We should have told Sylvester McCade that we’re wealthy widows. I’m sure it would have made all the difference.”

“Who’s a healthy widow?” asked Denice, who was a little hard of hearing.

“We should have told Sylvester that we are wealthy widows,” said Scarlett, raising her voice, but not too much, lest the hot yoga teacher overheard them talking about him. “Then maybe he would have shown more interest in getting acquainted with us.”

Understanding dawned on Denice’s face. “He’s your fancy man, isn’t he?”

“I wish!” said Scarlett. “There’s too much competition, Denice.”

Pretty much all of Sylvester’s pupils were middle-aged or old ladies, and all of them were more interested in watching the man contort his most gorgeous physique into all kinds of strange positions than in actually learning yoga, a sport that Vesta didn’t know why it was so popular, as it was utterly and completely pointless, not to mention mind-numbingly boring. In fact, it was so boring she had trouble staying awake through most of the movements. If it hadn’t been for Sylvester, she would have given up after the first day.

Grace Wheeler had told them to infiltrate as many groups as possible, so they might catch the thief, but so far they hadn’t had any luck. Even Denice, who had been coming to the resort for twenty-five years or more, said she was stumped.

The thief always used the same modus operandi. He broke into the rooms of his victims while they were spending time at the pool or on the beach, and absconded with money, jewelry, watches, or phones—anything that he could find that might be of value. So far this season five people had reported being robbed, and if this kept up news might spread that the resort couldn’t protect its guests from this persistent and pernicious thief.

“We probably should be patrolling the rooms again,” said Scarlett after she had applied lipstick to her lips and checked her appearance in the compact she always carried with her.

Vesta sighed. It was one aspect of the job she didn’t like: at all hours of the day and night they were forced to patrol the area where the rooms were located, making sure no funny business was taking place. She had that much in common with Kimmy and Kitty that she’d much rather lie back on her lounger, close her eyes, and let sleep take over.

But since she was a conscientious person, and they were there to do a job, she dragged herself up from the chaise lounge and followed her two accomplices as they set foot into the resort proper to do another tour of the building. The resort had security, of course, and also cameras that covered every nook and cranny, but so far the thief had proven more clever than any security measures management had been able to come up with.

Whoever this thief was, he was definitely a formidable foe, and frankly, Vesta was starting to get really curious to discover who it might be. Her money was on a young man who was limber enough to slither along the roof and slip into the rooms through the windows and then out again—unseen and unnoticed by anyone.

In other words: a cat burglar. Young, craven and absolutely brazen.

Which is why they had agreed with Bea Wheeler that they probably should take up vigilance at night and move their operation to the roof, where the sneak thief preyed on his targets. Now if only she could get enough sleep to last through a night...

Chapter Three

When Odelia had suggested that we assist Gran and Scarlett with their investigation at the resort, my first inclination had been to respectfully decline. After all, a beach resort is no place for a self-respecting cat, what with all the water and the sand and all of that—but then Odelia had insisted and said it was very important that the watch have eyes and ears all over the resort so we could catch the thief. And so we had decided we couldn’t say no.

Which is how we came to be lounging underneath a pair of chaise lounges occupied by Marge and Tex. It’s not just the sun I object to, considering it’s probably not a good idea for any cat to bask in those lethal death rays it projects, but also the presence of so many people all traipsing about, not to mention plenty of kids with water pistols and a penchant for spraying unsuspecting people—and cats—with chlorinated water from the pool.

I don’t know what it is about a resort that brings out the worst in people, but it does. All around us there was yelling and screaming and people jumping into the water and splashing about as if their lives depended on it. It certainly wasn’t the kind of place I would have selected for a relaxing vacation, but Marge and Tex seemed to like it, and so did Grace, and even Gran and Scarlett, even though they were supposed to be on the job.

“Is it just me or are Scarlett and Gran spending way too much time by the pool?” asked Harriet, who had noticed the same phenomenon.

“They should be out there looking for this thief,” Brutus grumbled. Like the rest of us, he hated the heat and the noise and the pungent all-pervasive smell of sunblock SPF 50.

“I’m sure they have a strategy,” said Dooley. “Knowing Gran, she will have this all worked out, and it’s only a matter of time before she catches this horrible thief.”

“And I think that she wants to drag this out as much as she can,” said Harriet. “After all, the longer it takes to catch this person, the more time they can spend at this five-star resort, all expenses paid.”

“Too bad Odelia and Chase didn’t win a two-week vacation here,” said Dooley. “Otherwise the whole family would have been together.”

“And I hope it won’t take much longer to catch this thief,” I said. “Frankly I’m tired of having to watch kids play in the pool, and bully Grace.”

It had been a distressing aspect of our stay at the resort that Grace, our human’s daughter, had met her foe in the form of a buck-toothed kid named Timmy Cooper. He seemed to have selected her as the victim of a power game and had called her names no little girl likes to be called: lizard brain, slug head, frog turd were some of the nicer ones. It certainly wasn’t what Grace had expected when she joined her grandparents for this vacation. The monitors, a pair of twins named Kimmy and Kitty, had been firm with Timmy, but not firm enough. The moment their backs were turned, the whole thing started again, and I, for one, didn’t like it one bit. Normally, Grace was quite capable of taking care of herself, but this kid was a head taller than she was, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with him.

We had already told Marge, and she had been keeping an eye on things, but short of physically removing Timmy from the equation—‘whack him,’ as Gran had suggested with her usual subtlety—there wasn’t a lot even she could do. She had tried to inform the kid’s parents, hoping to burden them with the responsibility of restraining the miniature bully, but it would appear they were nowhere to be found, having left their son to the twins, who weren’t all that interested in running a tight ship.

“They’re leaving,” said Dooley, gesturing in the direction of Gran and Scarlett, who had just gotten up from their chaise lounges and were heading indoors. They were accompanied by a third old lady they had made the acquaintance of only days ago. Denice Sutt had quickly become part of the troupe, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if Gran was going to formally invite the woman to join the watch. Denice was a veteran resort visitor and knew the lay of the land. In other words, if anyone could offer some practical advice to catch this thief in the act, it was her.

“We should probably follow them,” said Harriet with a yawn. Even though we had found a spot in the shade, the heat had caused the four of us to experience a debilitating sense of drowsiness, and even though duty called, I was reluctant to heed its message.

In the end, we decided it was probably cooler inside, and so we trotted off after Gran and her co-watch members, hoping to be instrumental in catching the dastardly thief.

We followed the three ladies into the resort and through the restaurant, where a couple of happy souls were ordering cocktails before they headed out again to enjoy their poolside experience. Before long, we were traversing the corridors of the resort, where the inmates had been put for their allocated time. It was a tedious job, but someone had to do it. According to the security person at the resort, most of the thefts occurred either during the daytime, when the residents were at the pool or the beach and their rooms were empty, or at night, with the brazen thief sneaking in and absconding with the guests’ personal items while they slept. Talk about taking a huge chance. But then this thief had all the hallmarks of a master criminal and had been at this game for weeks. All in all, it was a miracle that he hadn’t been caught yet, in spite of the vigilance and the concerted efforts of resort management, which rested in the hands of the Wheeler family: Bea Wheeler and her three daughters Lauren, Jill, and Grace, who ran the place together.

“There has to be a better way to go about this,” Scarlett lamented. She had wrapped herself in a fleecy sundress, and with her oversized sunglasses looked the perfect tourist.

Gran, who had bought a bathing suit that covered every possible inch of skin, looked more like a diver, and Denice, with her sensible shoes, sensible leggings, and sensible oversized T-shirt, seemed like the most sensible of all, though the hat she had placed on the top of her head gave her the appearance of a scarecrow—not the kind of fashion statement one wants to make at a luxury resort like the Hampton Cove Resort & Spa.

“I keep telling you we should sleep during the day and patrol the place during the night,” said Denice. “It’s the only way to catch this thief. He won’t show his face during the day because he knows that the watch is keeping an eye out for him. So that only leaves the night, his favorite time to break into people’s rooms and steal their valuables.”

“It’s too hot to sleep,” said Gran. “And besides, I can’t sleep during the day. It goes against my biorhythm.”

“What’s a biorhythm?” asked Denice.

“Well, the biorhythm,” said Gran. “You know.”

Denice eyed her strangely. “Is it a vegetarian thing?”

“Can you explain it to Denice, Scarlett?” said Gran, who didn’t have the patience to launch into a long explanation on any topic.

Scarlett had taken out her phone and had called up Google, that panacea for any discerning seeker of truth and wisdom. “Um… it’s also referred to as a person’s biological clock?”

“Oh, I know all about the biological clock!” said Denice, nodding. “Everybody has one, right? And it’s important that you don’t get it all messed up. Take me, for instance. If I don’t go to bed every night at the exact same time, I get very grumpy in the morning.”

“Same here,” said Gran. “Which is why I don’t feel like staying up all night just so we can catch this guy.” She gestured to one of the cameras suspended from the ceiling. “This place is full of cameras and still they can’t catch this fella? How is that even possible?”

“It’s not,” Denice agreed. “But he’s still at it, so they must be doing something wrong. I mean, are you sure these cameras are even working? Maybe they’re just dummies.”

“Or maybe they’re working, but nobody monitors them,” said Scarlett. “It’s often the case. They just put them up for show, to scare off potential thieves. But they don’t want to pay an actual person to actually monitor all the feeds. Plus, it’s a pretty boring job.”

“I talked to the guy in charge of security,” said Gran. “And he assures me all of their cameras are in perfect working order. So either he’s lying or this thief is really, really good.”

“Maybe it’s the invisible man,” Scarlett quipped.

“Or he’s using an invisibility cloak,” said Harriet. “Like in Harry Potter, remember?”

“I don’t think an invisibility cloak actually exists, Harriet,” said Brutus.

“I know that, pookie,” she said, a little annoyed that he wouldn’t have understood she was only kidding. “But there must be some explanation why he keeps breaking into people’s rooms and nobody has caught him on camera yet.”

“Gran’s theory is probably the most plausible one,” I said. “He’s some kind of cat burglar who scales the walls and enters the rooms through the windows, unseen by the cameras that aren’t anywhere inside the rooms.”

“Too bad,” said Brutus. “They probably should put a camera in every room—or maybe even more than one. That way they’d catch him soon enough.”

“It’s privacy,” said Harriet. “People don’t like it when they film them in their rooms.”

“They should,” said Brutus. “It’s only to keep them safe.”

“Maybe they can install hidden cameras?” Dooley suggested. “You know, like behind the mirrors and inside the light bulbs and all of that? That way the guests won’t even know they’re being watched?”

Harriet smiled. “There’s such a thing as privacy laws, Dooley,” she said. “I’m sure that the moment the guests find out, they’d make short shrift of those cameras.”

“But they wouldn’t know, would they?” said Dooley. “And so they won’t complain.”

It all seemed ethically iffy to me, but maybe Dooley had a point. If this thief was so very clever to have been able to steal from people’s rooms for weeks without being caught, something needed to be done. Something right outside of the normal rule book. If the thief wasn’t going to play fair and square, maybe we shouldn’t either. But since it wasn’t our call, instead I simply kept up a high level of vigilance, which was a little hard since all I wanted at that moment was to continue my very nice nap.

I may be a detective, but first and foremost I’m a cat, and as a prominent member of the feline tribe, I love a nice long nap!

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