Page 9 of The Case of the Vanishing Valuables

Viv turned toward the door but paused to throw one last playful jab over her shoulder. “Good luck with the case, Ray. Just remember... I’m only a phone call away.”

And then she was gone, leaving Ray staring after her like someone had just yanked the rug out from under him. I hopped down from the windowsill and padded over to him, casting a knowing look his way.

Sure, I felt a little bad for Ray—he hated looking like he needed help, especially from Viv—but I had bigger things to focus on. Bart had just dropped a serious clue, and I needed to investigate. The attic. The keys. Everything fit together. Ray could deal with his feelings later; we had a mystery to solve, and I was already two steps ahead.

Chapter

Eight

Bart had told me about the attic, and I wasn’t about to waste time waiting for Ray to piece it together. If something important was hidden up there, I was going to find it—and then nudge Ray into thinking the discovery was his idea, of course. So I slipped out of the house in the middle of the night and headed toward Tranquility Terrace.

I wriggled through the hedge in the back yard, my paws brushing against the damp leaves, and found the spot where the attic window sat high above. It was still open just a crack.Good luck!

With a quick leap onto the low wall and a nimble climb up the ivy-covered trellis, I reached the window. The gap was narrow, but I wiggled my way through and landed silently in the attic. Graceful, as always.

The room was dim, the only light spilling in from the moon through the grimy windowpanes. The air was thick with the smell of dust, old wood, and something stale—like forgotten memories. The floor creaked under my paws, and a cold draft whispered through the rafters.

I took a quick survey of the room. The attic was packed with old trunks, forgotten furniture draped in sheets, and pilesof papers scattered across the floor like a failed filing system. Everything was layered in dust—except for one thing.

A map.

It lay out in the open, sitting on top of a dresser near the window, conspicuously free of dust. My whiskers twitched. Someone had used that map recently. I padded over, my curiosity piqued.

Why would anyone hide this up here?

The map was marked with small, preciseXs across different rooms at Tranquility Terrace. As I studied it, it didn’t take long for me to realize what I was looking at. The rooms that had been hit by the thief were all marked. Whoever had been planning the thefts had stashed this map up here, away from prying eyes.

This changed everything.

I pawed at the map, trying to make sense of the additional marks. If I could get Ray up here, maybe he’d finally stop bumbling around with his crossword puzzles and solve this case. I just had to figure out how to drag him up here without making it too obvious that I’d done all the work.

Just as I was plotting my next move, the fur on the back of my neck bristled. Someone—or something—was watching me. Slowly, I turned.

A large gray cat, his fur blending into the shadows, sat perched on an old dresser by the window. His green eyes gleamed in the moonlight, watching me with an unsettling calm, like he’d been waiting for me to notice him.

I sat up straight, flicking my tail in annoyance. “I should’ve known I wasn’t alone.”

The cat stretched lazily then settled back down, unbothered. “I’m Mortimer,” he said, his voice a low purr. “And you must be Earl.”

I narrowed my eyes, taking him in. “Why are you up here?” I asked, keeping my voice casual, though my instincts told me to stay alert. “You know something, don’t you?”

Mortimer blinked slowly, his expression calm and unreadable. “I know plenty of things,” he said. “But what makes you think I’ll share any of them with you?”

Great, I thought,already irritated.Just what I needed—another cat with an attitude.

I glanced back at the map then at Mortimer. “Do you know something about this map? Or the jewelry thefts?”

Mortimer flicked his tail lazily. “Map? No. Thefts? No.”

“Surely, you must know something. You live here.” I wasn’t sure if he was playing dumb or actually dumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t concern myself with the affairs of humans. I just like to spook them. They do tend to run when I show up. They think I’m some kind of bad omen. I go where I please, and they freak out. It’s entertaining, really.”

I growled softly. He wasn’t taking this seriously. “So you’re just a distraction? You don’t know who’s doing the stealing?”

Mortimer’s eyes half closed, and his voice grew more distant. “What the humans do is not my problem.”

Useless. I had expected him to be involved somehow, but he was just wandering around, oblivious to the chaos he caused.

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