The Great Pet Heist

“Hi, guys. What’s up?” she said as she walked in, making a beeline for the dining room table. Butterbean had to do some fancy footwork to avoid getting stepped on, and Madison didn’t even blink.

She had the bunch of papers in her hands, and all of her attention seemed to be focused on them.

“We’re the Strathmore Six now,” Butterbean said. Madison automatically patted her on the head as she went by.

“I can probably just sign them, right?” she said to Marco and Polo absently as she poured food into their cage.

“Sure?” Polo said, trying to be agreeable. It sounded like a legal question, and Polo wasn’t really confident about giving legal advice.

“HEY!” Marco protested as seeds rained over his head. “Watch what you’re doing!”

Madison kept pouring the seeds as she looked at the papers.

Polo reached out and dragged Marco out of the way. “Shh, Marco,” Polo said. “She’s concentrating.”

“I think those are the papers that Bob gave her,” Butterbean said. “Her aunt is supposed to sign them. But I don’t think she has an aunt.”

“Of course she has an aunt,” Oscar said. “People have seen her. She can’t just make up an aunt.”

“Maybe,” Butterbean said. “But I don’t think she has an aunt here. I think her aunt is gone.”

“Quiet, Butterbean,” Walt said. “Her living arrangements are not our business.”

“I don’t know—it doesn’t seem right,” Polo said as Madison absentmindedly replaced the lid on their cage. It wasn’t on straight, though, and there was an inch gap over the water bottle.

“See now, we could totally get out of that,” Marco said. “It’s practically screaming escape route.”

“We can get out anyway,” Polo pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Marco said.

“Right?” Madison said to Butterbean, startling Marco and Polo into silence. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. She’d sign it if she was here. So it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong, right?”

“Of course not,” Butterbean woofed quietly. Butterbean didn’t have any problems dishing out legal advice.

Madison gave a half smile. “Look at me, talking to a dog.” She clipped the leash onto Butterbean’s collar. “I should just do it. It’s no big deal. Right?”

“Right,” Butterbean woofed again.

“I’m doing it.” Madison dropped the leash and dug a pen out of her book bag. She did a few test runs on the back of her notebook, spread the papers out on the table, took a deep breath, and signed.

“Ruby S. Park. There. It’s done.” She gathered up the papers and shook them at Butterbean. “And if I get into trouble, I’ll tell them you told me to do it.”

“Wait, what?” Butterbean looked alarmed.

“Don’t worry, Bean,” Walt said with a smirk. “We’ll come visit you in prison.”

“Wait, WHAT?” Butterbean yelped.

“Don’t listen to her,” Oscar said. “Just go for your walk.”

“Focus on the heist,” Walt said.

“Right. Heist.” Butterbean shot a nervous look back over her shoulder as Madison dragged her into the hallway and closed the door.

“That was not nice,” Oscar said quietly.

Walt shook her head. “That girl is going to ruin everything, isn’t she?”

Oscar laughed a short, harsh laugh. “Which one, Madison or Butterbean?”

“It’s not even lying, right? Just fudging a little.” Madison kept talking at the elevator. Butterbean was starting to think that she wasn’t really talking to her. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

Butterbean nodded absently. Walt was right. She needed to focus on the heist, not on whatever Madison was doing. (Which, from what Butterbean could tell, was totally lying and not just fudging.)

“It’ll be fine,” Madison muttered. Butterbean stared at the floor and tried not to comment. She needed to focus on what was important. There was that weird new stain on the carpet. Butterbean sniffed it and then snorted. Biscuit. She should totally pee on it.

“I pretty much had to sign, right?” Madison said, tugging on Butterbean’s leash. “If I didn’t, they’d go looking for Ruby, and if that happened, it’d all be over anyway. So I might as well, right?”

Butterbean wagged her tail in what she thought was an encouraging way. If she peed on the stain, it would just take up extra time they didn’t have. And they couldn’t delay the heist. So she would focus. She deliberately turned her face away from the stain. Focus.

The elevator light went off and the doors opened. And Madison and Butterbean both took an involuntary step back.

Because standing in the elevator was the Coin Man.

“Ah. We meet again,” he said. Madison squared her shoulders and walked into the elevator, punching the lobby button and leaning against the far wall.

“So silent,” the Coin Man said, staring at her.

Madison flashed him a tight smile and turned to look straight ahead.

“Not lurking around my door today?” the Coin Man said. “Why were you doing that, I wonder?”

He turned sideways in the elevator to watch her as the doors closed. Madison kept her eyes on the lighted elevator numbers.

“I asked why you were doing that,” the man said, his voice harder.

“I told you. The dog got loose. Sorry about that.” Madison didn’t take her eyes off the numbers.

“Ah yes. The dog. Strange that a little dog finds its way to the top floor? Almost… unbelievable.”

Madison pressed her lips into a thin line but didn’t say anything. Butterbean leaned heavily against Madison’s legs. The thing was, it did sound like a ridiculous story. Too bad for Madison it was true.

“Your sweater is so sparkly,” the man said, reaching out as if he was going to touch one of the buttons on Madison’s cardigan.

She shrunk back closer to the wall.

“That’s what you like? Sparkly things?” the man hadn’t moved, but the elevator suddenly seemed a lot smaller.

“Lobby,” the elevator voice said.

“See ya, bye!” Madison blurted as she squeezed out of the opening elevator doors, almost tripping over Butterbean in her rush.

The man didn’t move. He just laughed quietly as he watched her go. Then he held out his arm to stop the closing doors and strolled into the lobby.

Bob was leaning on a mop, talking to Mr. Doorman, when Madison rushed over to him.

She thrust the papers into Bob’s hands, pointing at the bottom of the page. “Here you go, my aunt signed the papers, it should be all set. Okay?”

Bob stared at her. “Um, sure, but…”

“Great, thanks!” Madison bent down and picked Butterbean up, pushing past Mr. Doorman into the outer lobby.

Butterbean bounced along in Madison’s arms as she hurried to the front door. It was different, being carried. It should have felt more relaxing, but Madison’s panic was contagious.

They were almost outside when Bob’s voice drifted over from the elevator area. “Oh, that? That’s Ruby Park’s niece. You know, on eight?”

Madison and Butterbean whirled around just in time to see Bob chatting with the Coin Man.

The man was watching them over Bob’s head. A cold smile spread across his face.

“Oh great, that’s just what I need,” Madison said under her breath, plopping Butterbean down onto the pavement unceremoniously. “Let’s go, dog. NOW.”

Butterbean didn’t need to be told twice. Because now she knew two things the others didn’t know. One, the Coin Man was onto them somehow. Or onto Madison at least. And two, he was leaving the building.

This was going to be the quickest walk in the history of walks.

It was heisting time.

13

“WHOOHOO HEIST DAY!” MARCO CHEERED when Butterbean got back. “Did you see the Coin Man? Is it go time?”

Marco was ready for some heisting. He bounced up and down in his aquarium and didn’t even care if Madison could hear him. It was pretty obvious she didn’t speak Rat.

Butterbean nodded as Madison took the leash off. “He just left. But UGH.” She shook violently, spattering Madison with spit. “So creepy.”

Madison jerked back. “Okay, I’ll see you guys soon.” She suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Um. Hopefully.”

“She gave Bob the papers,” Butterbean said in a low voice. “The papers that she FORGED.”

“We’d better move, then. Good thing we know the Coin Man left,” Oscar squawked. If the others were going to talk openly, he might as well too.

“We don’t know the status of the other man,” Walt said. “But Chad said that he could handle his part even if one of them was there. And he’s ready. So now we just wait for Madison to leave.”

The animals all turned to look at Madison, who was gathering up her book bag. She slowly looked up, as if she could feel their eyes on her. Then she set the book bag down again and stared back at them. “What?”

Nobody moved. They just blinked at her. (Except for Butterbean. She couldn’t help doing a little tail wagging, too.)

“Um,” Madison said. “Did I forget something?”

“We should warn her to watch out for the Coin Man,” Polo said.

“She won’t understand us,” Walt said. “Besides, doesn’t she know?”

“Watch out for the Coin Man!” Butterbean barked.

Madison picked her book bag back up. “Look, I can’t stay, guys. Is that it? I’ll be back. No matter what, I’ll come back right after school, okay?”

“I don’t think she understood you,” Polo said to Butterbean.

“She’s not the best listener,” Butterbean said.

“No, but if she’s coming back after school, we need to get moving. So she needs to go!” Walt stalked over to Madison, coiling herself around her legs and pushing her in the direction of the door. Once she saw what Walt was doing, Butterbean raced over and pushed too, in a slightly less subtle way.

“Okay, I get the hint, guys.” Madison hesitated just inside the door and grinned. “You’re all weirdos, you know that?”

Walt waited until the door closed and then stood stock-still, listening until she heard the elevator ding. Then she relaxed. “She’s gone.”

“Weirdos and CRIMINALS, am I right?” Marco said, high-fiving Polo.

Walt rolled her eyes. “Right. Everyone know what to do? Butterbean?”

Butterbean picked up her squeaky carrot and nodded. She was on hallway duty. Obviously. She was pretty clearly the queen of the hallways.

“Oscar?”

“Window,” Oscar said. He snapped his beak nervously. He wasn’t big on flying outdoors, but it had to be done. He was going to be independently wealthy if it killed him.

“Marco? Polo?” Walt said.

“VENTS!” Marco and Polo cheered as they crawled out of their aquarium and raced to the sofa. “Vents, here we come. See you guys soon!”

They disappeared into the vent shaft, still cheering as they went.

“Ready, Oscar?” Walt turned her back on the vent.

“Ready,” Oscar said, taking a deep breath. Walt hurried to the ledge by the dining room table and pushed at the window crank until the window opened. “Chad will open the one upstairs. Ready, Butterbean?”

Butterbean squeaked her squeaky carrot. She just wished she had a bigger part.

Walt hurried back to the front door. “Then let’s go. It’s on.”

Marco and Polo peered through the grate into the Coin Man’s apartment. The Coin Man’s Number Two Guy was there, lying on the couch with his feet up on the cushions. He was looking at his phone.

“Yuck. Unsanitary,” Polo said, looking at his dirty shoes on the beige sofa.

“Shoot! I was hoping he would be gone too,” Marco said under his breath.

“Let’s hope Chad can handle him,” Polo said. She scanned the room. “He should be here any minute, right?”

“Right,” Marco said. “There! Hi, Chad!” Marco waved through the grate. Chad had just emerged from the drain in the kitchen sink and was pulling himself up onto the kitchen counter. He waved a tentacle in the direction of the grate.

The man on the sofa didn’t notice.

“Shh! Marco! We’re heisting here!” Polo said, pulling his arm down.

“Sorry,” Marco said. “SORRY, CHAD!” he yelled.

“Marco!” Polo said. “Shh. Just watch now.”

She pointed at Chad, who was making his way across the counter toward the dining room. He slid off the edge of the counter, down the cabinets, and crawled across the floor. Then he pulled himself up the curtains, stretched out one long tentacle, and quietly cranked open the window.

“He’s very good,” Polo whispered.

Marco nodded. “Professional.”

Chad slid back down the curtains onto the floor. He had just started the trek toward the kitchen when the man on the sofa put his phone aside, stretched, and stood up.

“Chad!” Polo squeaked. “Watch out!”

Chad froze, instantly changing color to match the darkness of the curtains. One minute there was a big obvious octopus lying on the carpet, and the next, he was just a dark fold in the fabric of the curtains.

“Whoa. How did he do that?” Marco breathed. “You can hardly see him.” If he hadn’t been watching, he never would’ve known Chad was there.

“Do you think he does that a lot?” Polo asked. Seeing an almost invisible Chad lying in wait made her more than a little uncomfortable.

“Shh. He’s moving.” Marco grabbed Polo by the arm.

The Number Two Man walked into the dining room and got an apple out of the bowl on the table. He looked at it for a second and then dropped it in disgust. He was less than a foot from Chad the whole time, but he never even looked down.

“He’s going to notice the window!” Polo squealed.

“Forget the window—Oscar will be here any second,” Marco said, clutching Polo by the shoulder. “He’ll see Oscar! It’ll blow the whole heist!”

“Chad! Do something!” Polo squeaked.

A long dark tentacle snaked out from the curtains where Chad was hidden. It snagged the end of Number Two’s shoelace and pulled carefully, untying it.

The man didn’t notice.

Chad’s tentacle tapped Number Two on the leg, retreating back into the folds of the curtains so quickly that Marco wasn’t even sure he’d seen it happen.

The man looked down and rubbed his ankle just as Oscar appeared in the window.

“Ack!” Oscar squawked, desperately flapping his wings to gain altitude again.

“Ack!” Marco gurgled, pointing at Oscar in the window.

“Ack,” Number Two muttered, noticing his untied shoelace for the first time. He stomped back to the couch, threw himself down, and started tying his shoe just as Oscar made a clumsy landing and ducked behind the curtains.

Polo let out a huge sigh of relief. “This is way too stressful. We should’ve gotten rid of this guy too.”

“No kidding,” Marco said. His heart was racing, and all he was doing was standing in a vent.

The elevator in the hallway dinged.

Marco and Polo looked at each other. It was time. They were all in place.

“Ready?” Marco held up his hand.

“Ready,” Polo said, high-fiving Marco.

Marco leaned out of the grate, put two fingers in his mouth, and let out a loud whistle.

“Ninth floor,” the elevator woman said as the doors opened.

Butterbean and Walt cautiously peered out into the hallway.

It was empty.

Butterbean dropped her squeaky carrot in front of the elevator-door sensor, gave it an affectionate pat, and stepped over it into the hallway. She’d always liked that carrot, and now it was going to make sure they had a clean getaway.

Walt was already by the apartment door. (She was less sentimental about the carrot.) “Everyone should be in place,” Walt said. “Now we just wait for the signal.”

“Okay,” Butterbean said. She listened as hard as she could.

From inside the apartment, they heard a thin, shrill whistle.

Butterbean and Walt looked at each other and nodded. And then they opened their mouths and started to scream.

Walt’s screech sounded like she’d gotten her tail caught in the elevator door. Butterbean decided to alternate between howling and rapid-fire barking that lifted her off her feet. But the noise was incredible. The hallway had great acoustics.

They’d only been at it a minute when the door to the apartment jerked open, and the Number Two Man inside stared at them in surprise.

“Get ready,” Walt yowled.

Butterbean braced herself. This was the part of the plan where the man ran out of the apartment and tried to grab them. She’d even come up with some fancy evasive maneuvers. Bouncing off the walls—that type of thing.

But there was one problem. The man didn’t move. He just stood in the doorway and stared at them like they were animal carolers with too much holiday spirit (and a defective calendar).

Butterbean frowned. “Now what?” she howled at Walt.

Walt shot a sidelong glance at Butterbean. “Me, head. You, feet.”

Butterbean nodded and threw herself at the man’s feet, grabbing at his pants leg and tugging him into the hallway. Walt waited until he started staggering forward, then launched herself at his face, grabbing on to his ears with both paws and twisting around his head.

“AAHHHHH!” the man screamed.

“This should do it,” Walt screeched, nipping the fleshy part of his ear. She made a face. It wasn’t clean.

Butterbean barked in approval and grabbed at his shoes. They weren’t clean either, but a little dirt never bothered Butterbean.

When he heard the commotion in the hallway, Oscar sprang into action, pushing the curtains aside and hopping onto the table.

He scanned the room, but he didn’t see Chad. That wasn’t good. Chad was his contact. Without the octopus, the whole plan would fall apart.

“Curtains! Look on the floor by the curtains!”

Oscar peered up at the grate. A tiny rat arm was waving at him, and he could see a sparkly flash. Polo. Oscar looked down just in time to see part of the curtains detach and move away toward the living room. It changed color as it walked, slowly turning from a muddy-brown piece of curtain to a lighter grayish-beige octopus. Chad.

Oscar flexed his wings. He hoped he was up to this. After all, he did have a bad back.

Chad quickly pulled himself across the living room, ignoring the commotion in the hallway. Oscar decided to ignore it too. He didn’t even want to know what Butterbean and Walt were doing out there.

Chad whipped a tentacle around the handle of the cabinet end table and jerked it open. The small duffel bag was there, just as Marco and Polo had said it would be. Oscar caught his breath. The treasure was real.