57aacbcd9598439b495cce0c68035a7c

“I think I kept the receipt.” And while she and Vena worked out my diet, I jumped from the examination table. I landed with a dull thud, and Odelia looked down, then nodded. “Yep. Too fat.”

“I’m sorry, Max,” said Dooley commiseratingly. “If you want, you can have some of my food.”

“No, I better not,” I said, plunking down on the floor. To be honest, I was starting to feel the strain of carrying all this extra weight around. Vena was probably right. I wasn’t as agile as I used to be, and it wasn’t a lot of fun. And I had an obligation as a feline sleuth to help Odelia, and I couldn’t do that if I couldn’t even chase suspects around now could I?

“So you’re actually going to do this?” asked Dooley.

“Yep. Looks like I am.” I heaved a deep sigh. “The things I do for my human…”

And then it was Dooley’s turn. He was picked up and subjected to a similar examination. When it was all over, he asked in a tremulous voice, “Am I going to die?”

Odelia smiled.“What’s the verdict, Vena?”

“He’s a little too scrawny for my taste,” said the doctor. “Not enough muscle tissue. I think he needs to go on a diet, too. Only a protein-building diet.”

“Oh, God—I don’t want to go on a diet!” Dooley cried. “I’m not fat!”

“You’re going to have to eat more, Dooley,” Odelia said.

He abruptly stopped his whimpering.“Eat more?”

“You’re too skinny.”

“Too skinny? Is that even possible?”

“What about parasites?” asked Odelia. “Or ticks?”

“He’s perfectly fine—they both are,” the doctor assured Odelia. “But like I said, Max is too fat and Dooley is too skinny. So you’re going to have to put them both on a diet.”

And thus ended our annual visit to the vet. Dooley was going to have to eat more and me… less. Bummer! Then again, it could have been worse. We could have suffered from any of the diseases listed in Vena’s waiting room. Or… ticks. And as we rode back home with Odelia, I shivered when I thought of Shanille. There would be no more choir practice for a while. At least until I was reasonably sure that Vena had taken care of our conductor’s tick problem. Brrrr!

Chapter 10

Odelia thought it was a little awkward to go the gym in the middle of a murder investigation, especially since she’d already spent so much time with the cats at Vena’s, but a promise was a promise. She and Chase had decided to be gym buddies and there was no way she was going to weasel out now.

She’d dumped her gym gear into the pickup before she set out for the vet, and now parked her car in front of the gym, which was located in a strip mall just outside of town. The same strip mall housed what had once been The Vitamin King, a health food store operated by Donovan Rubb, who’d used it to sell drugs and other illegal substances beneath the counter. Since Rubb was busted, the store now housed a nail salon, and not a bad one either.

She let the cats out of the car. They could use some fresh air after the ordeal they’d gone through at the hands of Vena. They’d taken it well, she thought, all things considered, and she had to resist the urge to buy them both a treat. No more junk food. From now on, they were going on a strict diet, Dooley to bulk up and Max to slim down.

She slung her gym bag over her shoulder and walked up to Triple Platinum Gym. It was rumored that some of the celebrities that visited the Hamptons trained here, or at least the ones who didn’t have a private gym installed at their multi-million-dollar mansions. She looked up when the roar of a motorcycle sounded behind her, and a leather-clad biker rode up on a powerful machine. He waved at her so she waved back, wondering if this could be Brad Pitt or Leonardo DiCaprio, ready to lift some weights. When the biker removed his helmet and shook out his shoulder-length hair, however, a smile curled up her lips.

“Hey, Chase. You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

He directed a cheeky grin at her, his eyes smiling.“Thanks. So are you ready for the workout from hell?”

“I’m ready for a workout, without the hell. I haven’t been to the gym in years,” she reminded him, “so go easy on me, will you?”

“Sure thing, babe,” he growled and stepped from his machine.

She frowned. When had he started calling her babe? Maybe since they’d started kissing as if it was a regular thing?

He walked up to her and bent over, planting a wet smooch on her lips that made her stomach perform a double flip. Then he pulled her against his black leather jacket and repeated the procedure, only this time putting some tongue into play. When he finally released her, she thought she heard tweety-birds singing in a nearby tree. It could have been her imagination.

“Let’s go, babe,” he said, slinging an arm around her and directing her inside.