“He is,” said the dispatcher. “He’s shaken but unharmed.”

“Good,” said Jerry. “That’s great to hear. Do you think you could arrange a meeting?”

“Um… I guess that’s going to be a little difficult at the moment? I mean, security is really tight right now, Uncle Jerry. The chief got the place locked down. Nobody is to go in or out.”

“So you won’t be able to smuggle me in?”

“Not a chance,” said the girl. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Jerry. “It’s those crazy gunmen who ruined things for us.” He sighed deeply. “I just wish I could have talked to the guy. It’s your grandmother’s legacy that’s on the line, you know, so it’s important.”

“I know. But maybe you’ll be able to talk to him once those gunmen have been arrested? I’ve heard the chief mention they’re on to them. So it probably won’t be long before Mr. Hartshorn can return to his office.”

“Oh, so they’re on to those gunmen, are they?” he asked casually.

“Yes, they are! Turns out a couple of cats managed to jump into their van, and now they’re going to get a dog to trace those cats. As I understand it, the dog has done it before.”

“That’s great,” said Jerry, but he didn’t sound happy about it, which was understandable. “How long before they find them, would you say?”

“A matter of hours,” said the girl.

“Great,” said Jerry. “That’s just great.” The moment he had disconnected, he cried, “Those stupid cats! They’re going to get us caught—again!”

For a moment, the two crooks didn’t speak, as they considered their options. Then Jerry said, “I’m afraid there’s only one thing we can do.”

“I know,” said Johnny sadly.

“Are you gonna do it or do I have to?”

“I’ll do it,” said Johnny.

“Make it quick.”

“Yes, Jer.”

“And painless.”

“Yes, Jer.” He sighed deeply. “Poor cats. I kinda like them.”

“They shouldn’t have jumped into our van, buddy.”

“Yeah, I guess they only got themselves to blame.”

We all shared a look, and I think we were aware of the fate that awaited us.

Looked like we had finally reached the end of the road!

CHAPTER 23

“Max, I want you to know that it’s been an honor to be your friend,” said Dooley, a little tearfully I have to say.

“Buddy,” I said, and I couldn’t get the words out because of the big lump in my throat.

“I love you guys,” said Harriet as she sniffled a little. “And to prove it to you, I’m going to sing you one final song. It’s a power ballad and it reflects exactly how I feel about you.” She took a deep breath, and before we could stop her, she had launched into a haunting rendition of I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith. It wasn’t her usual genre, but she did it well—or at least she did it loud, and I guess that’s what it’s all about when you want to get into power ballad territory. You can miss a couple of notes but you have to hammer home the ones you hit.

She was still giving it her all when the door to the barn opened and a shadow fell across the four of us. Johnny stood there, large and threatening. He was lit up from behind by the light of a full moon, and I could see the knife glittering in his hand.

“I hope he does me first,” said Brutus. “I really don’t want to watch when he takes your lives, you guys.” He pounded me on the back. “I love you, Max. I know we didn’t always get along, but I consider you my best friend and one of the greatest cats that has ever lived, if not the greatest.” He sniffed. “Max, you’re the GOAT!”

Dooley glared at him. “Max is not a goat, Brutus! He’s a cat!”

“I know he’s a cat, buddy,” said Brutus with a lopsided smile. “But he’s also the Greatest Of All Time—the GOAT.”

Dooley didn’t seem to agree that Brutus was calling me a goat, but there was no more time for us to thresh this out, for Johnny was upon us. He had brought along a big burlap sack, and as he placed us all in the sack, I thought he would take us outside and do this in a quiet place. Or maybe he would simply drown us in the river? At any rate, I was resigned to my fate. I’d lived a long and full life with the best humans a cat can ever hope to have and the best friends.

“Okay, so shall I sing you one final song?” Harriet suggested.

“Mm, maybe we should enjoy these final moments in silence?” I suggested.

“I could sing something by Taylor Swift? Or Billie Eilish?”

Suddenly we heard Dooley murmur something. “Are you… praying, Dooley?” asked Brutus.

“I am, yes,” said Dooley.

“For us to be saved?” I asked.

“No, for Harriet not to sing anymore,” he said.

Harriet gave him a poke in the ribs. “Dooley! How can you say that!”

“It hurts my ears when you sing, Harriet!” he cried. “I know I’ve never said it before, but it does! My ears bleed when you sing! There, I’ve said it!”

“But Dooley! I thought you loved my singing! Max, you love my singing, don’t you?”

“Well…”

“These are our final moments, Max,” Dooley reminded me. “You should be honest and tell Harriet the truth.”

He was right. If you can’t tell the truth in your final moments before you face certain death, when can you? And so I steeled myself. “Okay, so I don’t really enjoy your singing either, Harriet. Like Dooley says, it hurts my ears. A lot.”

“But Max!” Harriet cried. “You never said! How about you, pookie?”

“Um….” said Pookie.

“Not you, too! I don’t believe this! You’ve all been lying to me all this time?”