The Great Pet Heist

“Walt is right,” Oscar said. “We have to do something.” He looked at the window thoughtfully. “The window in the Coin Man’s apartment may not be open anymore. And even if it is, it would be too easy for me to be seen.” He looked at Wallace, who was eyeing the vent like he wanted to leave. “Wallace, can you take me to the Coin Man’s apartment?”

Marco blinked. “What? You just said the window might be closed. How are you going to get in?”

“Through the vent, of course,” Oscar said, fluffing his feathers. “I should fit. You both did it. It will be fine.”

“You’re going in the vent? YOU?” Marco said. “You don’t even like to have your cage door closed.”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” Oscar said. “It’s the only way. If we can rescue Polo, it’s worth it.”

Wallace looked from Oscar to Marco uncertainly. “I can show you how to get there,” Wallace said. “If you really want to go.”

“I’ll do it!” Marco said, standing up and wiping his eyes. “You don’t need Wallace to show you. I’m not afraid to go back. I owe it to Polo.”

Wallace shrugged. “I’ll go too, if it’s all the same to you. Just to make sure you don’t get turned around wrong.” He didn’t like the idea of Marco and a bird blundering around in his vents unaccompanied. It sounded like a recipe for disaster.

“Thank you, Wallace.” Oscar put one foot into the vent and tried not to think about how much he hated vents. Or how narrow they were. Or how dusty they were. And he definitely couldn’t think about how likely he was to get trapped inside them forever. When he was a fledgling, he’d heard stories about an aunt who’d gotten stuck in a chimney once. He’d had nightmares about it more than a few times. But he had to think of Polo now. If she was still alive, they had to do something.

“Yeah, um, excuse me,” Marco muttered, finally pushing Oscar aside. He took a few steps into the vent then looked back. “Oscar? You coming?”

Oscar took a deep breath and climbed in. It wasn’t that bad, actually, especially knowing the exit was right behind him.

“I’m going too,” Walt said, slinking over and wriggling inside. “Move over, Oscar.” It was going to be a tight fit, but nothing she hadn’t done before. She’d once managed to fit herself into a tissue box. One of the pop-up ones, not one of the more spacious horizontal kind.

Oscar squawked in dismay. He wished he’d brought a paper bag to breathe into.

“I’m going too,” Butterbean said, hurrying over to the opening. She wasn’t about to be left behind.

Butterbean managed to squeeze into the vent up to her ears, but getting her whole head inside was trickier than she’d thought. That didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. It was just a matter of willpower.

“Bean, no,” Walt said, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. “You need to stay here. We need someone to guard the apartment.”

“No, I’m going too,” Butterbean said, twisting her neck to try to get her whole head inside the vent. “I know I can squish. I’ve got a squishy head. Just give me a second.”

“But what if Bob comes back?” Walt said. The last thing they needed was for Butterbean to get stuck in the vent. “You’ve got a powerful bark. We need you here, to bark for us if there’s trouble.”

Butterbean stopped and pulled her head back out of the vent. She hated to admit it, but it was probably for the best. Her head wasn’t even the widest part of her body. “Fine,” she finally said, staring at the floor. “I’ll stay here. I’ll be ready to bark.”

“Good. Thank you, Butterbean,” Walt said. “You guard the coins.” Walt waited a minute to make sure Butterbean was really staying behind and then turned and disappeared down the vent.

Butterbean suddenly sat up straight. The coins. Her eyes gleamed. She knew just what to do. “Right, I’ll guard the coins!”

Polo sat in the dark thinking about her life choices. Ever since Mrs. Food had gone away, things seemed to have taken a bad turn. And Polo was pretty sure a lot of it had to do with some questionable choices on her part.

Madison, for instance. It had seemed like a very good idea to go check on her when she didn’t show up. And when Polo had seen the trashed apartment and realized Madison was gone, it had seemed like a very good idea to go check the Coin Man’s apartment.

And when she realized he’d kidnapped Madison, it had seemed like a very good idea to throw herself repeatedly against the vent grate until she broke through and fell kamikaze-style into the living room. And since she was down there anyway, within striking distance of the Coin Man’s ankles, attacking those ankles had seemed like the logical thing to do. Anybody would have done the same thing, right? It had all seemed like a very good idea—until he’d kicked her across the room, that is.

The last thing she remembered was hearing Marco screaming as she flew through the air. She’d thought it would be the last thing she ever heard. But instead she’d woken up in Madison’s pocket, so in a way she’d been pretty lucky.

Polo sighed. If her bad choices had gotten her into this mess, she was just going to have to make some good choices to get out of it. She stuck her nose out of the pocket and looked around. It was dark, and Madison seemed to be sitting on the bathroom floor. Interesting choice. Maybe Madison should evaluate her life choices too. Polo shook her head. That wasn’t fair. Madison wouldn’t even be in this situation if it wasn’t for Polo and her button.

“You okay, little guy?” Madison said in a low voice. “You awake?”

Polo craned her neck to look up at Madison. Her face was streaky looking, like she’d been crying. Polo twitched her whiskers at her.

“I thought I’d better get you out of the way before he kicked you again.” Madison gave her a weak smile. “Now you’re stuck with me, but it’s better than being stomped.”

Polo couldn’t argue with that.

“You know, you look like another rat I know. Down on the fourth floor. I’m supposed to be taking care of her right now.” She sniffled. “Two rats, actually, and a bunch of other animals.”

“It’s me. And don’t worry—Marco will find us,” Polo squeaked softly. She wasn’t sure it was true, though. Marco hadn’t been screaming like he was planning a rescue. He’d been screaming like he was running away and never coming back.

“They’re not going to let us out, little guy,” Madison said softly, tentatively touching Polo’s ear. “They think I stole from them. But I didn’t do it, I swear.”

“I know,” Polo squeaked. She crawled out of Madison’s jacket pocket and climbed onto her knee. She tried to look understanding, but it wasn’t easy. She mostly felt guilty. And she really wished she’d learned to speak Human. Speaking another language was always useful.

Madison sniffled again and wiped her nose. “And the worst part is, except for those animals, nobody’s even going to miss me. Not for a long time. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure,” Polo squeaked.

“My aunt that I live with? I don’t exactly live with her anymore.” Madison watched Polo’s reaction carefully. “Are you shocked?” Madison whispered.

Well, no. But Polo tried to look shocked. She actually wished she had someone to high-five. She KNEW there was nobody else in that apartment. She and Butterbean had been right. She just hoped that she would be able to see Butterbean again to tell her.

“I did, but she’s in the army. And she got deployed. So she set it up so I would stay with my friend Christie’s family while she was gone. It was all planned out. Then right when she left, their grandma got sick, and so they couldn’t take me. So I just… didn’t tell anybody. I didn’t say anything to my aunt, and I told Christie’s parents that my aunt had found someone else to take me. And then I just stayed at my aunt’s place. So there’s not even anyone to miss me.”

Polo’s heart sank. As glad as she was to be right, it made everything worse. Because that meant it was all up to her. There were no parents coming to help Madison. No aunt. No one. She couldn’t even depend on Marco and the others to come help her.

She and Madison were totally alone.

“I don’t know why you can’t just fly,” Marco grumbled. Oscar was taking forever. His bird feet were not made for walking in slippery metal vents.

“I’ve told you, Marco, it’s too low for me to fly. I’ll hit my head. Or rather, hit my head AGAIN.” Oscar had already given in to Marco’s pestering once, and it had gone pretty much how he’d expected—with Oscar smacking his head against the top of the vent. The resulting clang had been so loud that some people in an apartment nearby heard it and peeked through the grate. They hadn’t expected to see a mynah bird. (They didn’t think they had, either. They’d decided Oscar was either a pigeon or a mutant cockroach. Luckily, Oscar had been out of earshot by the time they’d come to that conclusion.)

Once he’d gotten over his initial panic, Oscar had to admit the vents were a lot cleaner than he had expected, and a lot less claustrophobic. Even so, he was going to need a good bath when everything was said and done. And there was no guarantee Madison would be there to change the water in his dish. Maybe Walt knew how to work the faucets.

“It’s just ahead, through that up vent,” Wallace said, ignoring the squabbling. “I’m going to leave you here. Marco will be able to show you the apartment grates.”

“Thank you, Wallace,” Walt said as she squeezed past him to slip into the up vent. “We’ll be sure to bring you extra seeds when this is all over.”

“Uh, thanks.” Wallace flattened himself against the wall as Walt squeezed by. He was not used to the idea of a cat in the vents, no matter how polite Walt was. It made his stomach squirm just thinking about it.

Oscar hopped up to the next floor and shuffled over to the grate as quickly as he could, with Walt right behind him. Marco was waiting, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

He pointed out through the grate. “See? That’s the living room,” he whispered. “The Coin Man and the other guy are still there.”

Oscar put an eye to the grate and peered around the room. The men were angry and arguing, but Oscar didn’t pay any attention to them. Right now he was worried about one thing and one thing only. Polo.

“Madison’s not there,” Walt said, peering through the grate next to him.

Two things. Oscar was worried about two things. Polo and Madison.

“I’m betting she’s behind that door.” Walt nodded toward a door on the other side of the living room. It had a chair wedged under the handle. Oscar shivered. That did not look good.

“You know what else I don’t see?” Walt continued, her voice low. “I don’t see a dead rat. Or any rat, wounded or otherwise. I don’t see Polo.”

Oscar cleared his throat and looked over at Marco. He wasn’t paying attention to them—he seemed intent on listening to the men arguing. Oscar edged closer to Walt. “They could have… disposed of her,” he said quietly. The last thing he wanted was for Marco to overhear him.

Walt shook her head. “I don’t think those guys would’ve bothered. And look down there.” She nodded toward the floor right below the grate. Oscar had to crane his neck to see what she was pointing at. It was a mousetrap.

“They wouldn’t have put that there if they thought they got her.”

Walt sounded confident, but Oscar wasn’t so sure. He just hoped she was right.

He scuttled over to Marco, cringing with every step. Skidding on the metal floor was so undignified. “Marco. Is there another grate?”

“SHH!” Marco hissed, putting his hands over Oscar’s beak. “Listen—I think this is important!”

“No excuses.” The Coin Man’s voice was sharp, and he was pointing aggressively at the second man. The Coin Man didn’t touch him, but Number Two flinched with every jab as if he had. “One. How did she get in? Two. How did she get the coins? Three. Where are they now? And most importantly, why did you not notice? These are questions that I want answered, now.”

The Coin Man crossed the living room and pulled the chair away from the door. “If you can’t answer, she will.”

“Quick, to the other grate!” Marco said, hurtling himself down the vent. “We need to see!”

Marco and Walt scurried away, with Oscar awkwardly slipping along behind. He arrived just in time to see the Coin Man crouching down next to Madison. She didn’t look like she’d been harmed, but she was obviously not okay. Oscar scanned the room. There was no sign of Polo.

“Little girl, you have made a very big mistake.”

Madison tried not to react, but she couldn’t help but flinch a little at the Coin Man’s words.

“It was a funny game to you, stealing from me? It is not a game now, believe me.” The man’s voice was very low, and the animals had to strain to hear him. He wasn’t shouting. He didn’t even raise his voice. But something in the way he spoke made Oscar shiver.

“I will be back in one hour. When I return, you will tell me where the coins are. Understand? That is your only option. If you want to survive.”

He stared at Madison until she nodded hesitantly.

“Good. And to be clear, I know all about you, Miss Madison Park. I know you are alone. No one will miss you. No one knows you are here. Remember that. No one is coming to save you. So you will do what I say.”

Madison nodded again, biting her lip to steel herself. She refused to look away from him.

The Coin Man stood up and opened the door. “One hour,” he said again, closing the door and locking it behind him.

Madison waited until she was sure he was gone and then broke out in a strangled sob. “I don’t have the coins!” she whispered. “What am I going to do?”

Polo poked a head out of Madison’s pocket and scrambled back up onto her knee. “We’ll think of a plan,” Polo said quietly. She had no idea what, but they had to try something. Anything. And they only had an hour.

“POLO!” a voice shrieked from the vent grate. “IT’S POLO! YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Polo’s head jerked up, and she leaned back to look up at the grate. “Marco?” She stood on her hind legs and waved excitedly. “MARCO!” she screamed. “I’m okay! It’s me!”

“What are you doing?” Madison said, staring at Polo like she’d sprouted an extra head. It was one thing to have a rat quietly comforting you. It was something entirely different when that rat started to scream and wave at someone you couldn’t see.

Madison peered up at the grate.

If she squinted, she thought she could just make out eyes staring back at her from the darkness. Three pairs of eyes.

She blinked. The eyes were still there. And was that a tiny arm waving through the grate? That didn’t seem possible.

Madison scrambled to her feet and climbed up onto the sink to get a closer look, carefully putting Polo on the counter first.

“No way,” Madison breathed. “No way.”

Those were definitely eyes. And they were looking right back at her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say they looked just like the cat and bird and rat that she’d been taking care of. But that was ridiculous.

“Do you have a plan?” Polo squeaked from her new perch on the soap dish. “We have an hour.”

“Um. Maybe?” Marco didn’t sound like he had a plan.

“Don’t worry—we’ve got a rescue all planned out,” Walt said. Her voice was much more reassuring. “Just wait there. We’ll be back soon.”

Polo cheered and did a little dance on the soap dish. Carefully, so she didn’t slip. But this was the best news she’d had all day, and a small celebration was in order.

Madison watched Polo’s dance number and then sat down on the cabinet with a thump. That had definitely sounded like a cat. And now the rat was dancing. She was losing it.

“We’ll be back! Just hold on,” Marco squeaked. “Bye!”

As Polo and Madison watched, the three faces disappeared from the grate.

Madison stared at the empty grate until a small pattering on her hand caught her attention. It was the rat, and it looked like it was patting her on the hand to console her.

“It’ll be okay, Madison!” Polo squeaked.

Madison gave a small smile. Even if she was crazy, the rat looked so optimistic. She hoped it knew something she didn’t.

“Okay, Walt, what’s up?” Oscar said after they’d slipped back down to the eighth-floor vents. “That all sounded good, but do you really have a plan?” He tried his best not to sound disapproving, but he couldn’t see how Walt could possibly have a plan. “I don’t want to give Polo false hope.”

Walt sat down with a sigh. “I do have a plan, and I think it could work. But you’re not going to like it. You’re not going to like it one bit.”

Oscar puffed his feathers out indignantly. If the plan saved Polo, how could he not like it? “Well, what is it?”

“I can only think of one thing that will work.” Walt’s face was grim. “We need to pull off another heist. An anti-heist. We need to give the coins back.”

16

“YOU WANT TO DO WHAT?” Butterbean sat up abruptly, gold coins sliding off her tummy. “Give it back? Back back? Are you crazy?”

They’d found Butterbean in the office, rolling in the bag of gold coins. She was obviously taking her guard duty very seriously. She hadn’t let them out of her sight. Butterbean stood up, slipping on the pile as she trotted out of the office and over to Oscar. “But we can’t give it back, can we, Oscar? We’re independently wealthy now. We need them.” She blinked with her best puppy dog eyes.

Oscar cleared his throat and looked away. “I think we have to,” he said reluctantly. He couldn’t believe he was saying it. The whole heist had been such a success. It was his greatest achievement. And now it was all going down the drain, just because of one little slip up.

Oscar had seen heist shows on the Television before, so he thought he’d known all the possible pitfalls. But he’d never once seen an organized crime gang have to pull an anti-heist and return the money.

But they were going to do it. It was already in the works.

Walt had run the plan by Chad, who had agreed to help out, as long as there were no more comments about his butt. Oscar wasn’t sure what that was about, but he was happy to agree. He’d never even noticed Chad’s butt. (Although now he felt like he needed to take a look.) Once they’d all solemnly sworn not to say a single word about his backside, Chad was in.

Now all they had to do was get Butterbean on board.