The Secret Laundry Monster Files. John R. Erickson

In the meantime, I’ll subject the cat to a heartless interrogation. If he knows anything, I’ll break him down and wring it out of him. You got it?”

      “I guess so. But I think I’m still confused.”

      “Just keep your trap shut and let me do the talking. Come on.”

      We marched back to the cat and seated ourselves in front of him. He looked up at us and . . . he was grinning. That was pretty positive proof that he was holding something back. Well, I intended to drag it out of him.

      “Okay, Pete, we’ve had a meeting of the board and we’ve decided to hear your side of the story.”

      “Oh, thank you, Hankie. I’m so honored.”

      “You should be. We’ve decided to make this a special case, so . . . out with it. Keep to the facts and make it brief. We’re very busy.”

      “My goodness, yes, I know you are.” He blinked those weird cattish eyes. “There’s a raccoon in the yard. He’s playing with Sally May’s laundry and I think he even ripped a sheet. I thought you dogs might want to know.”

      “Are you finished? Is that all?”

      “That’s all, Hankie.”

      I stood up. “Good. It’s another pack of lies and we don’t believe a word of it. You’re excused. You’re free to go chase your tail. Good-bye and good riddance.”

      Kitty-Kitty gave us one last smirk and a wave of his paw, and then he went slinking back into the darkness where he belonged. When he had gone, Drover and I exchanged grins.

      Drover giggled. “Boy, that was even dumber than what he said before. You sure nailed him.”

      “We must be firm with the cats, Drover, even when it brings us enormous pleasure.”

      “Yeah, it was fun.”

      “It was fun, Drover, but the impointant poink is that we exposed him as a fraud, a cheat, and a liar. In the future we’ll know . . . What are you staring at?”

      His eyes had moved away from me and seemed to be staring at . . . something. Something in the spoofy darkness of the yard. Spooky, I should say. The spooky yardness of the yard. The spooky . . . Skip it.

      He took cover behind me. “Hank, I just saw something move, and I think it was a . . . raccoon.”