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Tex was watching on as Chase expertly turned the burger patties on the grill. I think everybody was happy Tex wasn’t in charge of the proceedings. Dr. Tex may know his way around a human gallbladder, but he can’t grill a burger if his life depended on it. Somehow they always end up looking like charred coal, which apparently humans don’t enjoy.

I know I don’t like to eat my food charred into oblivion, but then I’m a cat, and I like my food raw and bloody. Others, like our good friend Clarice, a feral cat, like to eat their food while it’s still breathing, but then Clarice has always been something of an extremist.

After the great upheaval, life in Hampton Cove had gradually returned to normal. Dickerson’s killers were in jail, Netflix had putKit Katt& Koh on hiatus while its star went into rehab, and an anonymous benefactor had launched a campaign to offer all of the pets at the local pound new homes. Rumor had it that benefactor was Brenda Berish.

I told you. Once people fall in love with cats they become fans for life.

A row of cats was now lined up on Marge and Tex’s patio: me, Dooley, Harriet, Brutus and… Milo. Over the last couple of days the erstwhile terror had settled down and was starting to become almost like a regular feline. He still had a ways to go, though, considering that just that morning he’d convinced Dooley that if you pull a cat’s tail really hard a nugget of gold drops out of its mouth. Ever since then Dooley has been telling Odelia to pull his tail so she can become a millionairess.

“So what’s happening with Tracy?” asked Marge as the entire family convened around the table. “When is she going to join us?”

“Soon,” Uncle Alec promised with a smile. And when Marge tried to heap a pile of fries onto his plate he quickly declined. “I’m trying to lose weight,” he announced, patting his ominously large stomach fondly.

Odelia cocked an eyebrow.“Is this Tracy’s doing? If so, I like her even more.”

“That woman is such an avid hiker that if I hope to stand a chance keeping up I need to lose at least thirty pounds. At one point she said she thought there was something wrong with her ears as she kept hearing this strange thumping sound. I didn’t have the nerve to tell her that was my heart beating so fast I thought it would pop out through my throat.”

“I think it’s great that you’ve decided to take better care of yourself,” said Marge.

“And I think this Tracy is one overbearing female,” said Grandma. “I mean, look at you, Alec. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Alec muttered, munching down on a piece of lettuce.

“A real man got heft,” Gran continued. “Nobody likes a skeleton.”

Chase joined the others, placing a plate of perfectly grilled patties on the table. Tex, holding onto a bottle of beer, held it up in a salute.“I want to congratulate the law enforcement members of this family on a job well done. You, too, Odelia.”

“Thanks,” said Odelia. “I think it’s all very sad, though.”

“It is,” her mother agreed.

Tex had brought out the small television he’d recently purchased and they watched for a moment as President Wilcox laid a wreath on a grave, then held his hand to his chest while the National Anthem sounded.

“Why did you write that the President is the Sexiest President Alive, Odelia?” asked Marge. “I don’t think he’s that sexy.”

“I have a great new source,” said Odelia. “He keeps calling me with all kinds of exclusive scoops.” Just then, her phone sang out a song and she picked it out. “Oh, look, it’s him. My source.” She picked up. “Yes, hi, Mr. Paunch. Thank you. Yes, I thought it was a lovely article, too. Especially that bit about the President being voted Best Dressed Politician by the White House Correspondents’ Association. Yes, I think he’s a very natty dresser, too.”

She’d switched her phone to speaker, so we could all listen in to her exclusive source. His voice sounded awfully familiar, though. As if I’d heard this Mr. Paunch before somewhere.

“And Odelia,” Mr. Paunch was saying, “this is a real scoop for you right here. President Wilcox has just been informed that he’s a shoo-in for an actual Nobel Prize!”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” said Odelia, her eyes gleaming. “A real Nobel Peace Prize.”

“Not just the Peace Prize. He’s getting the Nobel Prize for Literature, too.”

“Literature? I didn’t know the President was a writer?”

“Oh, sure. He’s only one of the best writers in the world. Bestselling writer.”

“What… books did he write?” asked Odelia, clearly confused.

“Oh, you name it, he wrote it. Amazing, huh? I thought you’d be impressed.”

Odelia looked up when her mother was pointing at the screen, where the President of the United States was talking on the phone now. And as he talked, it quickly became clear that his lips were forming the exact words that were coming out of Odelia’s phone.

Otto Paunch…was President Wilcox!