Page 15 of The Case of the Vanishing Valuables

Finally, Mr. Saunders broke the silence, his fork clinking against his plate. “So, what now, Detective? You think someone’s sneaking around with a master key?”

Ray leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face. “We’re getting there,” he said. “Just piecing things together.”

Finally. I stretched out, my muscles stiff from sitting through all this talk. I glanced at Mortimer, who was now curled up and snoring. At least one of us had our priorities straight.

Chapter

Twelve

Ray and I didn’t stick around after dinner. The second the dessert plates were cleared, we bolted from Tranquility Terrace—Ray’s stomach full of meat loaf and apple pie and me just ready to be anywhere else. By the time we got back to his house, the cozy warmth of dinner had faded, replaced by the familiar buzz of an unsolved mystery.

He slumped into his creaky chair, the dim light overhead flickering like a bad movie set. The coffee table in front of him was a disaster zone of papers—his scribbled notes from the day, the picture of the map we’d found in the attic, and growing confusion swirling around the room.

I perched on the couch, tail flicking back and forth, watching him with what I was sure was a perfectly balanced mix of amusement and indifference. The place smelled like stale coffee and dust. Let’s just say Ray wasn’t exactly winning any awards for housekeeping. I’d been telling him that telepathically for weeks, but humans—they never listened.

Ray heaved a heavy sigh, staring at the picture of the map on his phone like the image had personally offended him. “This map… I still don’t get it. Why keep track like this?”

I let out a low, unimpressed meow.Come on, Ray. It’s not that hard. The thief might be an old person with a failing memory.How many times did I have to spell it out for him?

He started mumbling to himself, jotting down random notes like that would magically make things clearer. “Maybe it’s… maintenance? Could the rooms be marked because they haven’t been updated or something?”

I flicked an ear.Okay, maybe you’ve got something there.I wasn’t above giving him some credit.But really, Ray, focus. The map’s more than just a checklist. You’re overthinking it. As usual.

Ray scribbled down the idea, but even I could tell from the way his pen hovered over the page that he wasn’t sold on it. “If it was about fixing things, I’d expect a maintenance schedule or at least some kind of checklist. This map feels too... secretive.”

Then why don’t you ask the maintenance guy, genius?I thought, pushing the idea harder into his thick skull. Humans. You really had to spoon-feed them.

He glanced over at me, eyes narrowing like he was finally considering my presence. His gaze shifted back to the map then again to me. “There’s gotta be someone who knows about these rooms. Someone who’s been in and out of them. Maybe done something to them…”

Yes, Ray. YES. Rick, the maintenance guy. Ask him about the map.

Ray paused, his eyes lighting up like he’d just invented fire. “Rick! The maintenance guy. He’d know if anything’s been worked on in those rooms. I need to ask him about this map. Maybe it’s a maintenance thing after all.”

Finally. Took you long enough.

Ray stood up, stretching and rubbing the back of his neck like the act of thinking had exhausted him physically. “All right, tomorrow, we’ll ask Rick. If anyone knows about those rooms,it’s him. And maybe… just maybe, we’ll finally figure out what’s really going on.”

He looked over at me, sitting comfortably on the edge of the coffee table, evidently feeling smug. From the way he said, “Good thinking, partner,” I could tell that he thought this was all his idea.

Sure, Ray. We’re both geniuses, I thought, my tail flicking lazily as I closed my eyes.One of us more than the other.

Chapter

Thirteen

The next morning, Ray and I pulled up to Tranquility Terrace bright and early. The building looked as quiet and unassuming as ever, but I could feel in the air that something was off. Ray sensed it, too—he might’ve been slow on the uptake sometimes, but even he wasn’t totally oblivious.

We walked inside, greeted by the usual hum of resident chatter and the faint drone of a vacuum cleaner somewhere down the hall. Mrs. Hargrove stood by the reception desk, wringing her hands like she was on the verge of losing her mind. She whispered something to Gina, who was nodding sympathetically.

Ray, always polite, also nodded as we approached. “Everything okay this morning?”

Mrs. Hargrove sighed, glancing at Gina. “Not really, Mr. Leonard. Sally—you remember her from last night’s Mortimer scare? Well, something’s gone missing from her room. She’s terribly upset. It was her mother’s bracelet, a family heirloom.”

Ray’s eyebrows shot up, and I could practically see the light bulb flashing above his head. “Another theft? When did she last see it?”

Gina stepped in. “She said she saw it before Mortimer showed up in her room last night. After that, she was too scared to go back in. Slept in one of the lounge chairs. This morning, when she checked her room, the bracelet was gone.”

Ray scratched his chin thoughtfully, glancing down at me. I sat there, tail flicking in annoyance. My eyes narrowed as they locked onto Mortimer, who had just strolled down the hall and stretched out lazily in front of the reception desk.

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