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And then finally we heard it. A sort of soft growling sound, low and deep. It seemed to come from one of the rooms, and in direct contradiction to all of our instincts, we decided to head over there and see what was going on.

We gently pushed open what I assumed was the bedroom door, and found ourselves witnesses to an unusual scene: in one corner of the room the exterminator was standing, Kelly’s arms clasped around his midsection in a tight embrace, while on top of a four-poster bed Rufus was standing, lips drawn back from glittering rows of sharp teeth, a menacing growl emanating from deep inside his throat, spittle dribbling all over the nice crocheted bed cover. From time to time he made a jerky forward motion, as if to leap through the air and devour the two quaking figures whole. He looked a little like Cujo, Stephen King’s canine friend, and was showing us a side of his personality I’d frankly never seen before.

“The coast is clear,” he said now, addressing us. “I’ve got them cornered.” When we simply stared at him, taking in the unusual and frankly very impressive sight, he added in a deep sort of growl, “Get a move on, you two! NOW!”

“Oh, all right,” I said, and we quickly skedaddled and did as we were told.

To mount the stairs to the third floor was but the work of a moment, and to jump up and lift the latch from the wooden door was easy as pie. The moment the door creaked open, two tiny mice appeared, holding onto each other for dear life, noses twitching, eyes gleaming with abject fear, staring at us much like one would expect two mice to stare at two cats who have suddenly appeared before them.

Correctly interpreting their expressions, I said,“We’re not here to eat you. Just go. Run like the wind!”

And run like the wind they sure did. Between our legs, then hopping and skipping down the steps and soon disappearing from sight.

“Can’t you just… spray him?” I heard Kelly ask one floor down.

“I could, if you’d let go of my arms,” the exterminator returned.

“What if he bites?”

“Just hide behind me,” said the exterminator.

“You’d do that for me?” asked Kelly.

“Of course.”

“Oh, Fred!”

“Oh, Kelly.”

“My hero.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

I had to hide a smile as I stuck my head in the door.“Rufus? The deed is done,” I said.

“Oh, great,” said Rufus, and immediately dropped the menacing attitude, hopped off the bed, and proceeded to walk out of the room, cool as dammit.

“He-he’s gone,” said Kelly, as if she couldn’t believe her good fortune.

“I told you,” said Fred. “Just keep calm and everything will be all right.”

“I think you scared him off, Fred. With your heroic and manly attitude.”

“The Fredster doesn’t take crap from no one,” said Fred. “Not even Cujo.”

“I’m very impressed, Fred.”

“You better believe it.”

“Oh, Fredster.”

“Oh, Kelly.”

Moments later the sound of kissing reached my ears, and as a grin spread across my features, I elbowed the door closed. Sounded like they could use some privacy.

“So what happened with the mice?” asked Rufus as we padded down the stairs.

“They got away,” I said.

“Oh, goodie. I have to say this was a lot of fun,” said Rufus as he lumbered into the living room. “It’s not every day that I get to bring out my inner beast.”

“I didn’t even know you could snarl like that, Rufus,” said Dooley admiringly.

“I saw it on TV once. Movie calledAmerican Werewolf in London.” He shrugged. “Just thought I’d be an American werewolf in Hampton Cove for once.”

“And you did a great job,” I said.

“Though I’d stop short of actually ripping a person to shreds,” he added for good measure.

“Oh, no, of course,” I said.

We’d stepped out of the house and I blinked against the sun that was still giving of its best and bathing the world below in a bright white heat. Once my eyes had become accustomed once more to the outdoors, I saw that a touching reunion was taking place: Judy was giving a flustered-looking Jack a big hug, Bertha standing to one side and eyeing the procedure with a skeptical eye.

“Thank you so much, Jack,” Judy was saying. “If it hadn’t been for you, we would never have made it out of there alive.”

“It’s not me you should thank,” said Jack. “It’s Max, the greatest detective that ever lived.”

Judy turned to me, giving me a curious look.“But you’re a cat,” she said, sounding confused. “Why would a cat help a mouse?”

“We’re not your usual cats,” I explained.

“We’re keepers of the peace,” Dooley said. “And as keepers of the peace, we like to come to the assistance of any creature that’s in danger. “

“Well, isn’t that just swell,” said Bertha, who gave me a look of suspicion.

“I think a well-meant thank you is in order,” said Judy, once she’d wrapped her mind around the quaint conceit of a cat saving a pair of mice lives.

“Actually it’s Rufus you should thank,” I said, stepping aside so Rufus could have the floor. “He’s the one who kept those humans at bay long enough for us to get you out of there.”