Misty Hollow Cat Detective (Darcy Sweet Mystery) (A Smudge the Cat Mystery Book 1) by K.J. Emrick Page B

dresser near the bed sits a long cage, squares of white wire forming a rectangular cube on a green plastic tray.  A blue igloo looking thing sits in a corner of the cage.  Next to the cage is a framed photo of a little girl holding a pair of fluffy, squirming guinea pigs.  The girl is young, wearing brown hair in pigtails, her face pretty but chubby, with freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
    As me and Twist jump up onto the bed, I can see that inside the igloo is a brown, furry mound of hair.  We wait for the space of a few heartbeats, but the resident of the igloo doesn't come out.
    "Jocko?" Twist meows softly.
    " Gah!" the guinea pig cries out, jumping and making his igloo home              bounce sideways.  Its voice is high-pitched and warbly.  "Who is it?  Who's there?"
    The little critter's but t was sticking out of the entryway to his home, plump cheeks shaking and twitching.  The tang of feces and urine stung my nose and made me sneeze.  That's one of the big differences between cats and rodents.  Cats keep their boxes clean.  Or we do our business outdoors and bury it.  A rodent is content to live where it messes.
    I know.  Disgusting, right?
    "Jocko," Twist says soothingly.  "It's me.  It's Twistypaws.  I came back with help.  Just like a promised."
    "Oh!  Twistypaws.  You're here.  Are you here?  Where are you?  I can't see you!"
    Jocko was talking at such a rapid speed, so full of nervous energy, that my head was starting to hurt just standing there listening to him.  "Maybe if you turned around," I suggest, "you could see her better."
    " Aaaaah!" he screeched, jumping around again, this way and that way, up and down and up again, the igloo jouncing with him.  "Who is that?  Who's here?  Twistypaws!  Where are you?"
    Finally, the igloo tipped over onto its side .  That's when Jocko spun around to find us watching him.  "Oh!  Twistypaws!  Thank my lucky pellets you're here!  Who's this?  Who is that!  Who is he?"
    "Well, this is fun," I remarked.
    Twist growled at me with narrowed eyes before looking back up at Jocko.  He was pressed against the side of his cage now, one eye staring out at us.  "Jocko," she said in that same calm voice as before.  "This is Smudge.  He's my friend.  He's here to help you."
    "Help me?  Help me?  How?  How can he help me?  He can't help me!  He's a cat!  How can he help me?"
    "I could eat you," I mumbled.
    Twist hissed at me, but I thought it was funny.
    "I need your help!" Jocko shouted now, apparently forgetting that not five seconds ago he told me I couldn't help because I was a cat.  "You gotta help my human.  Help Heidi!  Help her, please please please!"
    I looked at Twist.  She nodded from me to Jocko.  I sighed.  If it hadn't been her asking me to do this…
    "So, Jocko," I said with more enthusiasm than I felt, "what exactly is the problem?  What help does Heidi need?"
    "Someone's going to steal her!"
    Steal her?  Okay, I have to admit that got my attention.
    "Steal her away from me," Jocko whined.  "Please oh please oh please help her!"
    "Whoa, slow down there, mouse boy," I said to him, ignoring the nasty look that Twist gave me.  "How could anyone steal her?  Why would anyone steal her?"
    "They did it once already!" he insisted, jumping up and down in place, his little ears twitching fitfully.  "They stole Balleratina!  Stole her right from this room!"
    "What's a…bawling Tina?"
    "Balleratina!  She was my friend!" Jocko's voice rose an octave.  "She was the other guinea pig who lived here.  Right here, in this cage!  With me!  She lived here with me, and now she's gone!"
     
    ***
    I tried to explain to Jocko that sometimes pets get taken away, for a lot of reasons.  People can be pretty careless when it comes to an unwanted pet.  The y're here one day, gone the next.  But that wasn't what happened, according to him.  According to him, Heidi and her mother had both spent days