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“Odelia called me in the middle of the night. Said she had a hunch Philippe might be the one,” said Chase. “So I got on my computer and found he’d once burned down the school lab in some experiment gone wrong—the police report mentioned some type of homemade explosive he used that time. And only a few weeks before Burt’s murder a garden shed blew up not far from the Goldsmith family estate. Luckily no one was hurt but police found traces of nitroglycerin at the scene, and a neighbor said a young man fitting Philippe’s description had been seen hauling ingredients and equipment into the shed. He’d been experimenting for a while, trying to perfect the mixture he’d use on his grandfather.”

“Why wasn’t he arrested?”

“The Goldsmiths are a well-respected bunch, and the investigation was dropped.”

“Someone paid the right person the right amount of money,” said Tex.

“No amount of money will save him now,” said Odelia. “This time he was caught in the act.”

“Didn’t you search his room after his grandfather was murdered?” asked Marge.

“We did. But since the explosion had happened in the next room it was only logical we found traces of nitro.”

“Where did he keep his stash of explosives?” asked Tex.

“Hotel kitchen fridge,” said Uncle Alec. “He’d told one of the servers his grandfather liked his beer cold, and had tipped the kid handsomely for the favor. He never had a clue.”

“Clever.”

“He was. Until someone saw right through him.” He directed a look of admiration at Odelia.

“I think Max deserves all the credit,” said Odelia. She couldn’t tell Chase it was me who warned her about Philippe. It was her, though, who warned her uncle, and by the time Philippe arrived, police were at the scene, keeping a close eye on the amateur bomber.

“All’s well that ends well,” said Tex, and took a sip from the fruit punch and winced.

“So when can we get rid of these collars?” asked Harriet, addressing the topic that interested her far more than humans trying to murder other humans.

“Right now,” said Odelia, and proceeded to remove all of our collars!

“Burn them,” said Brutus soberly, checking himself for fleas.

“Are they gone?” asked Dooley. “Are you sure they’re gone?”

Odelia gave him a brief inspection.“All gone,” she said. “Not a single one left.”

“Oh, joy!” Brutus said, and did a little impromptu wiggle of his tush.

I took the butch cat aside.“How about your… issue?” I asked.

He gave me a wink.“What issue?”

I guess those pills Vena had dispensed had done the trick, for the moment he said it, Harriet sashayed over, and the two of them wasted no time stalking off into a laurel bush.

I hopped up onto the porch swing, turned around a few times, and took a seat next to Dooley.“I’m so glad those fleas are gone, Max,” Dooley said, looking extremely relieved.

“Yeah, and I’m glad the Most Interesting Men in the World are gone, too, and they took their Most Interesting Cats along with them.”

“Aren’t you sad Shadow left?”

Shadow had been adopted by the Goldsmith family, and would live with Burt’s second cousin twice removed, who was a genuine cat person. Tracy had promised Shadow a part in future beer commercials if she wanted. But the cat had decided to retire from the world of advertising. Acting in ads simply wouldn’t be the same without Burt. Tracy, meanwhile, had also left, which made Uncle Alec a little sad. She’d promised to return, though, and maybe she would.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“But you liked Shadow,” said Dooley. “She could have been your girlfriend.”

“I doubt it.”

“You’ll always have #nitrogate, though.”

I shrugged. I liked Shadow, I really did, but not in an amorous capacity. I guess the right cat for me is out there somewhere, and one day we’ll meet. Maybe. I’m not holding out hope, though. Cats aren’t like humans. We don’t mate for life. We’re more like George Clooney before he met Amal, or Leonardo DiCaprio before he meets the next hot young model. We like to play the field. Keep our options open, if you know what I mean. We’re cats, for crying out loud. Not Ward or June Cleaver.

“What about you, Dooley?”

“What about me?”

“Still nervous about the baby thing?”

He blinked.“Why? Should I be nervous? Do you think Odelia lied to us? Max—is she going to kick us out?!” His voice was rising precipitously. “Tell me the truth! Is this the end?!”

Oh, boy. I should have kept my mouth shut.“No, it’s not the end, Dooley. For one thing, as long as Gran stays at Odelia’s, there won’t be no babies.”

Dooley glanced at Gran, who was stuffing her face with potato salad, as if she was the great white hope. Then he frowned.“I don’t get it. What does Gran have to do with babies?”

“No young couple likes to be hassled by a live-in know-it-all granny cramping their style and sticking her nose in. No way Chase is moving in as long as Gran is in the house.”

“I knew it,” said Dooley. “I knew my human would save me. She’s doing this for us, isn’t she? She’s trying to keep those babies from muscling us out of the house.”