9e945bf3b1d705d5d70aa6e5ed9fa2ba

“Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Fudeker.” Bob made an apologetic face over Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six’s head. “But there’s been a new development.”

“I have PROOF,” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six said, waving a handful of papers in Mrs. Food’s face. “PROOF right here. I knew it was that girl—I just knew it!”

Mrs. Food frowned and pushed the papers aside.“What proof could you possibly have? Madison didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That little vandal did it AGAIN, and I can PROVE IT.” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six had a nasty gleam in her eye.

Walt and Oscar exchanged a concerned look. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“The storage area was vandalized again last night, Mrs. Fudeker, and it was worse than before,” Bob said. “And it looks like…” He glanced at Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six. “Well, it was strange. There were some things that are hard to explain.”

“Look here, see? PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE.” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six pushed the papers at Mrs. Food again. “Bob took these this morning. See right here?” She jabbed her finger at one of the pictures.

Mrs. Food took the pictures and examined them closely. Then she looked up with a confused expression on her face.“What am I looking at here? Madison isn’t in this picture,” Mrs. Food said. “I’m sorry about the damage—it does look bad. But I don’t see how this involves us at all.”

“Oh you don’t, do you?” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six pointed harder at the picture. “See that? That’s my stolen property. All lined up in a row. And look at THAT.” She pointed again.

Mrs. Food looked at the picture again, more closely this time. Then she turned pale.“Well.” She looked up at Bob, who made another apologetic face. “Well, that is odd. I admit that. But I can’t explain it. Madison and I were both here all last night. We didn’t even go down to the storage area.”

“I haven’t figured out how she did it, but trust me, you’re going to be prosecuted for this,” Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six smirked. “I’ll see to it.”

Mrs. Food tried to give the pictures back, but Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six pushed her hands away.“Oh, you keep those, Beulah. You’ll need them for your lawyers. And believe me, I had extra copies made. So many copies.”

“Okay, you’ve had your say.” Bob gently pulled Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six back from the door. “Now I’ll handle this from here, okay?”

Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six opened her mouth to protest, but Bob held up his hand.“It all needs to be official, understand?” he said. “I can’t have Mrs. Fudeker here making a harassment complaint against you.”

Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six snapped her mouth shut, whirled around, and huffed away.

Bob waited until she’d gone before he turned back to Mrs. Food.

“That harassment complaint, that’s something you have legitimate grounds for, you know.” He ran his hand over his head. “Now, you’ll swear that you and Madison weren’t anywhere near that storage unit?”

“We didn’t leave the apartment,” Mrs. Food said.

“And Madison will swear to that too?”

Mrs. Food nodded.

“Okay, okay,” Bob said thoughtfully. “Because those pictures, they don’t look good. I don’t know how to explain those.”

“I know.”

Bob sighed and rubbed his face.“I’ll try and sort this out. But I’ll probably need you to come down and make an official statement for the board,” he said.

“Thank you, Bob,” Mrs. Food said calmly. But she was clutching the photos a little too tightly.

She closed the door quietly, and in one quick motion, she threw the photos onto the table. Then she stormed off down the hall.

“She’s mad,” Butterbean said softly as she watched Mrs. Food disappear into her office.

“The photos, Walt,” Oscar said. “Quick. What’s in the photos?”

Walt jumped up onto the table and pawed through them, examining them carefully. Then she looked up, her face stormy.“Those raccoons have messed up everything.”

There was no getting around it—they had to talk to Reginald.

It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the day. They had to risk it. Operation Cleanup was too important. (That was what they’d decided to call it. Butterbean voted for Operation Get the Raccoons to Explain What the Heck Went Wrong So They Could Help Restore Madison’s Reputation, but everyone agreed that spy missions needed to have slightly shorter names.)

Dunkin knew where the tube-top raccoon usually slept, and the white cat was sent on her first secret spy mission. Luckily it was a success. With the help of a few caviar treats, she was able to convince the tube-top raccoon to take her to Reginald, who she persuaded to come for a secret spy meeting in Mrs. Food’s apartment. (He was less than happy about the whole situation. Apparently some of the vents had been a pretty tight squeeze.)

He didn’t get any happier once they confronted him with the photos.

“I’m sorry, but we did what we said. I don’t see how any of this is our fault!” Reginald said, his hands on his hips. “And I’m not too pleased to have your flunkies SUMMONING ME.”

“Excuse me?” the white cat scowled. “Mysterious Spy on a Mission of Mercy, IF YOU PLEASE.”

“It was urgent,” Walt explained. “We had no choice!”