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“I was thinking maybe to have my hair done. Do you think Fido would be able to squeeze me in?”

Fido Siniawski was their local hairdresser, and a miracle worker when it came to all things hair-related.

“Um, I guess so,” he said, not exactly up to date on Fido’s schedule. “Though if what you’re saying is true, and Mr. Hancock only has a couple more days to live, I’m not sure he’ll be all that interested in what your hair looks like, Marge.”

His wife gave him a look of disappointment.“I want to look good for Randy, Tex. Is that so hard to understand? He’s a celebrity!”

An almost-dead celebrity, he wanted to point out, but didn’t. “So isn’t this whole setup extremely dangerous for Odelia and Chase?”

“Nobody knows Randy is staying next door,” said Marge. “So it’s all perfectly safe.”

“What poison did they use?” he asked, his professional interest piqued.

“I don’t know.” Then her eyes went wide. “Oh, Tex—you could examine him! You could find out what poison is being used and you could save Randy Hancock’s life!”

“I’m not sure…”

“Oh, please do it for me, honey! Please!”

“I could take a look,” said Tex. “Though what he needs to do is go to the nearest hospital where he can be thoroughly checked out—blood work, tissue samples, the whole enchilada.”

“Can’t you do all that?”

“I don’t have the equipment, honey.” And he wasn’t exactly qualified to look for little-known poisons having been injected into this fitness star’s bloodstream. But when Marge’s face fell, he said, “I could have a look, though. But only if Randy wants me to.”

“Oh, Tex! Thank you! Of course Randy will want you to. Why wouldn’t he?”

And then she disappeared upstairs, presumably to look for something to wear for this special occasion. Looked like the story of Vesta’s imminent dismissal would have to wait.

Chapter 11

I know that Odelia had told us Brutus had gone walkabout with his pet turtle, but I was still happy to see him arrive home safe and sound… with the pet turtle in question.

“Brutus!” Harriet cried the moment she laid eyes on him. “I’m so happy you’re all right!”

“Of course I’m all right,” said the black cat. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” He looked genuinely surprised that anyone would think that he wasn’t all right.

“Oh, honey bunny,” said Harriet, and nudged up against him, purring up a storm. But then she caught sight of that turtle, and her purrs immediately stopped as if turned off at the tap. “What is that!” she cried, aghast.

“You guys, this is Pinkie,” said Brutus proudly. “Pinkie, meet the rest of the gang: Harriet, Max and Dooley.”

“Hi, guys,” said the tiny turtle, and I could have sworn she gave us a little wave of the leg, or the hand, or whatever turtles use to get around.

Harriet gawked at the tiny green thing, and then at Brutus, and her look wasn’t at all dripping with the milk of feline kindness I can tell you. “I don’t get it,” she said. “Why would you take a pet, Brutus—you are a pet!”

“I’m not Brutus’s pet, Harriet,” Pinkie pointed out. “I’m his friend, and he’s promised me to help save my other friends.”

“Pinkie used to live in a pond,” Brutus explained. “But that was before she escaped. And now she wants me to help her secure the escape of all the other turtles.”

“I don’t get it,” Harriet repeated, and quite frankly neither did I.

“Why did you want to escape your pond, Pinkie?” asked Dooley. “Didn’t you like it there?”

“Like I already told Brutus, I liked the company,” said Pinkie. “But I didn’t like the place, or the people running the pond.”

“How do you run a pond?” asked Dooley, mystified.

“Badly,” said Pinkie. “At least the people running it now are up to no good, which is why I want to free my friends. That way we can all go to the ocean and finally be free!”

“Oh, all right,” said Dooley, but it was clear from the look on his face he still didn’t understand a thing.

Brutus had spotted Little Randy, still lounging in the same spot where he’d dropped upon his arrival. “So is that Little Randy?” he asked. “Gran told me all about what happened,” he explained. “Something about a fitness star who’s been poisoned and decided to come and stay with us until Odelia can find him his antidote.”

Gran had explained things well, and I wondered where the white-haired old lady herself was.“Where is Gran?” I asked.

“She’s probably getting ready for her date,” said Brutus casually, earning himself three gasps of shock from yours truly, Dooley, and Harriet. Pinkie wasn’t gasping, in shock or otherwise, but then she hadn’t known Gran all that long.

“A date?” asked Harriet. “What date?”

“A date with Wilbur Vickery,” said Brutus, who seemed to enjoy being at the center of attention for once.

“This is terrible news,” said Harriet. “Wilbur Vickery is the worst possible match for Gran—the absolute worst!”

“I don’t know,” said Brutus. “He’s younger than Gran, which is probably a good thing.”

“They call younger men who date older women toy boys,” said Dooley. “Or boy toys.”

“Please let’s not go there again,” said Harriet, holding up a paw.