“What is he doing?” asked Marge, proving once and for all that Vesta knew her son-in-law better than her daughter did. “Why is he wearing his good shoes in the garden? I’ve told him to wear his old sneakers. Those are his best shoes. The ones he uses when we go out.”

Vesta could have told Marge that there wouldn’t be a lot of nights out on the town in the couple’s near future, but since she didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, she wisely kept her tongue. “It’s not the shoes I’m worried about. But the strange behavior. And the cursing, Marge. What’s up with the cursing? I mean, what did that poor lawn ever do to him?”

“It’s that new bug spray he’s been trying out. Clearly, it isn’t giving him the results he’s been hoping for.”

“Bug spray? What bug spray?” The news that her son-in-law was using a new type of bug spray greatly disturbed her, since she considered the backyard her own personal domain and didn’t like it when Tex interfered without asking her permission—or at the very least her opinion.

“He picked it up after we saw an ad on TV. It’s supposed to be harmless for plants and humans and pets, but lethal to bugs. But I get the impression it doesn’t work as advertised.”

And since Vesta was not the kind of woman who took this interference into her personal affairs lying down, she immediately yanked open the door and yelled, “What’s the meaning of this, Tex! What do you think you’re doing spraying YOUR bug spray on MY lawn?!”

“Didn’t I tell you about that?” said Tex, but the look on his face told a different story. Clearly, he knew he had broken the unwritten law about who was really in charge of the backyard they shared. “I’ve been trying to get rid of these chinch bugs. They’re destroying the lawn. And I saw this ad last week of a new bug spray that’s supposed to be safe and healthy for humans and pets both. So I figured I’d give it a shot.” He gestured angrily at a patch of lawn that looked as if locusts had a go at it. The blades of grass were all chewed up. “But look at this. It’s almost as if this spray has only managed to make them proliferate even more, instead of killing them. If things go on like this, the whole lawn will be dead within weeks.”

It was true they’d been having a lot of trouble fighting this particular strain of very hardy and annoying bugs. The creatures loved the lawn even more than Vesta or Tex did. “Violence is never the answer, Tex,” she said. “We have to find some other way to deal with this pest.” And since their cats were well-versed in conversing with all manner of bugs and other pests, the only thing she could think of was to ask them to tell these nasty bugs to take a hike. They could move to Blake’s Field and feast on grass to their heart’s content, and no one would even notice.

“I guess so,” said Tex reluctantly. She got the impression he’d been trying his own tough-guy approach on the bugs, since she saw plenty of evidence he’d been stomping around like Godzilla, trying to eradicate the pest. It hadn’t helped, as she could have told him.

“I’ll talk to Max,” she promised.

“Max? What good will that do?”

“Max will talk to the bugs and ask them to vacate the premises,” she explained.

“You really think they’ll listen to a cat? These are tough bugs, Vesta. Some of the toughest creatures there are. They’ve survived for millions of years, so they consider themselves to be the top of the heap. They’re not going to listen to a cat telling them what to do.” He shook his head. “No, we need to show them who’s the boss in this here backyard of ours.”

Vesta could see that there was no reasoning with the otherwise mild-mannered doctor. Touch his lawn and the man became a killing machine, laying waste to entire swaths of bugs.

And since she didn’t feel like getting into an argument with the doctor when he was in this mood, she returned indoors, eager to share her plan with Marge. When she entered the kitchen, though, of her daughter, there was no trace. And since the cats were out as well, she had no recourse but to pick up her phone and call her best friend. Scarlett picked up on the first ring.

“Did you hear what just happened?” asked Scarlett.

“No, what?”

“There’s been a drive-by shooting on Grover Street.”

“A drive-by shooting? What is this, prohibition redux? Al Capone decided to reincarnate?”

“Luckily, the guy they were aiming for managed to miraculously survive.”

“Who is he?”

“Rogelio Hartshorn.”

“The estate lawyer?”

“That’s right. He handled Dick Bernstein’s estate. Did such a great job, too.”

“Drugs, probably,” said Vesta. “It’s always the ones you least expect it from, isn’t it?”

“Too bad. I’ve always liked Rogelio. I’ve been thinking of paying him a visit to handle my own estate. Looks like I’ll have to find a different lawyer.”

“Your estate? What do you want to bother about your estate for?”

“We’re not getting any younger, honey. Maybe you should talk to Rogelio, too.”

It was a topic she had never given a lot of consideration to, figuring that estate planning was something that the millionaires and billionaires of this world bothered with, not the likes of her. So it surprised her that her friend would have estate planning on her mind, since Scarlett wasn’t in either of those two categories. Unless… “You’re not secretly a billionairess, are you?”

Scarlett’s throaty laugh was all the reassurance she needed. “A billionairess! Me! That’s priceless! Oh, Vesta, thanks for the laugh. It’s exactly what I needed right now.”

“Glad to be of service. Anyway, I’ve got this idea I need to run by you. Meet at the Star?”

“Absolutely. Can’t wait.”

And as she disconnected, she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t start thinking about her own estate as well—such as it was. She planned to live forever, of course, but still. Unforeseen circumstances and all of that.

CHAPTER 9

Norm wanted to introduce us to his friend Bill, but frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to a depressed cockroach. I may be a detective, but that doesn’t mean I’m also a psychologist and enjoy listening to stories about marital strife. Besides, not being married myself, I wouldn’t know what to advise him. Nor did I have a solution for Norm’s issue with having kids.

“But don’t you at least have an opinion on the matter, Max?” asked Norm when I told him I couldn’t tell him whether to take the leap and have kids or not. “I mean, you’re supposed to be the smartest cat in town.”

“Being smart doesn’t mean that I have to have an opinion on everything,” I said. “And so as far as having kids is concerned, I plead the fifth, buddy.”

“I have an opinion,” said Dooley. “I think you should have kids, Norm. Odelia and Chase had a baby, and even though I was very nervous about the prospect at the time, it turned out very well. Contrary to what I thought, Odelia didn’t get rid of us, and nor did Grace turn out to be some kind of monster. She’s a lovely little girl and we all adore her. Isn’t that so, you guys?”

“We do adore her,” said Harriet. “And I like to think that she adores us. Well, I know she adores me, but then I’m extremely adorable, of course, so that was always a given.”

“I think she likes all of us,” I said. “And equally so.”

Parents shouldn’t have favorites, but nor should kids. And so I liked to think that Grace loved all of us in equal measure.

“So you think I should have kids?” asked Norm. “What do you think, Brutus?”

Brutus laughed. “You’re asking me if you should have kids?” But then his face sagged. “I can’t have kids. I’ve been neutered, you see. So I can’t have kids even if I wanted to. And it was done without even consulting me, you know. Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to have kids.”

“It’s all right, buddy,” I said, patting him on the back. I’d forgotten that the topic of offspring was a sensitive one for our friend. And also for Harriet. But mostly Brutus, since he felt he wasn’t a real cat ever since he had discovered he’d been neutered. At one time, he even considered getting Neuticles: testicular implants for neutered pets. Lucky for us, he’d dropped the idea, or we’d never hear the end of it, and he’d be strutting his stuff every chance he got.

“I’m so sorry, Brutus,” said Norm. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” said Brutus. “Nobody knows. Except my best friends—and of course the people that did this to me,” he added bitterly. “Chase’s mom and that criminal vet of hers.”

“We’re all in the same boat here, my friend,” I said.

Brutus sighed deeply. “It’s a cross we have to bear.” He then glanced up at Norm, who had taken up position on top of the big mock-up of a fly, which was a disconcerting sight. “So when you ask me if you should have kids, it’s a yes from me. Before these vets get their hands on you as well and excise the miracle of procreation.” He gave the fly an earnest look. “Just do it, Norm. Do it while you still can. Before it’s too late. Like it’s too late for us.” He produced a single sob and turned away his face so we wouldn’t have to be a witness to his distress.

“You know, I’ve never looked at it this way,” Norm confessed. “But maybe you’re right. It’s my God-given capacity for procreation that sets me apart from a lot of those less fortunate. So maybe I should put it to good use. And also, that way, the name of Norm will live on.”