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And when Max and Dooley came down from the roof, filled with plans and schemes about how to go about finding this Patient Zero, she suddenly found she’d lost all interest. Who cared about a few fleas? She was never going to get out of Hampton Cove, so what did it matter that they were all infested with these terrible, blood-sucking bugs? Life itself was a blood-sucking, soul-sapping bug, and there was nothing she or anyone could do about it.

Chapter 7

“So where are we going?” asked Harriet.

It was obvious she hadn’t been listening to a word I’d said. She looked a little peaked. Not her usual vivacious self. Despondent. “We’re paying a little visit to Shanille,” I told her.

“Shanille?” she asked dully. “Why Shanille? What does she have to do with all of this?”

Patiently, I explained to her once again how a cat had sidled up to me on the roof and, in the middle of the Most Interesting Cat Show, had asked if I’d heard about Shanille. My ears twitching, he’d told me how Shanille had been going around town, asking forgiveness from any cat who would listen. When they asked her why, she refused to say. Only that she was harboring a great secret, one that was burdening her soul and making her seek relieffrom this heavy load she was carrying on her slightly stooped shoulders.

“So you see what that means, right?” I said. But when my eye met Harriet’s dull gaze, it was obvious she had no clue what I was talking about. “She’s the one I’ve been looking for!” I cried, barely able to contain my excitement.

“That’s great, Max,” said Harriet in the same lifeless tone. “I’m happy for you. Shanille is a great cat and I’m sure you deserve each other. You’ll make each other very, very happy.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, puzzled.

“You said Shanille is the one you’ve been looking for. And now you finally found her. I know it’s too late for me to find what I’m looking for, but that doesn’t mean I can’t rejoice when others fulfill their wishes and satisfy the deepest desires of their hearts.” She gave me a wan smile. “Way to go, Max. I couldn’t be happier for you. Really. Three rousing cheers.”

Uh-oh. It was obvious that this meeting with the Most Interesting Cats had affected Harriet adversely, and I thought I knew why. She probably wanted to be a Most Interesting Cat herself, part of the popular troupe, and the fact that she wasn’t clearly stung. “I’m not interested in Shanille as a love interest, Harriet,” I explained to her now, careful to make my meaning perfectly clear and leave no room for misunderstandings. “I think she’s our Patient Zero. The one who got into that limo that night. The one Kingman was telling us about.”

Harriet raised a dispirited whisker.“Oh?” she asked in a tone that told me she wasn’t the least bit interested in this quest that she’d instigated in the first place.

“Is she all right, Max?” asked Dooley now, as Harriet and Brutus hung back. “She seems bored with us all of a sudden.”

“I think Harriet is suffering from FOMO,” I told him.

He started.“That sounds bad. That sounds terminal! Is she gonna die?!”

I laughed.“FOMO is not something that will kill you, Dooley. FOMO stands for the Fear Of Missing Out. And I think Harriet feels she’s missing out on a lot of things right now.”

“Missing out on what?”

I shrugged.“Missing out on living a Most Interesting Life, I guess.”

Dooley displayed a look of distaste.“She wants to be more like Princess? Ugh.”

“What seems ‘ugh’ to you probably looks very ‘ooh, me wants’ to Harriet.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s exactly the way she feels.”

He paused, then shook his head.“I still don’t get it.”

“Harriet has just discovered that there’s a whole other world out there. A world of show cats and glamour and glitter and prizes to be won and crowns to be worn and praise and applause to be had. And she wants all of that. She wants to be up on a stage with people clapping and snapping picturesand writing articles about her. She never thought she wanted it before because she wasn’t particularly aware a world like that even existed, or maybe she was, in a nebulous sort of way, but not made tangible, like with these Most Interesting Cats.”

“Harriet is going to leave us? She’s going to become a Hollywood superstar?”

“I very much doubt it. It’s a little tough to go from a small town like ours all the way to Hollywood, even if you’re the prettiest cat in all of Hampton Cove.”

“She really is the prettiest cat in all of Hampton Cove,” Dooley said reverently.

“And now she’s just discovered there are prettier cats out there—cats that seem more successful in life than she is, and it’s not a pleasant realization for her.”

“Seem to be more successful?”

“Looks can be deceiving, Dooley. Princess might come across as the Most Successful Cat Out There, but I very much doubt that that’s the case.”

“She’s a little vapid and narcissistic,” Dooley said, and I was surprised he even knew the meaning of those words. “And I don’t think she’s a very happy cat, Max.”

“I don’t think so either, Dooley.”