Melody told Max a lot of things, the big one being she would never again date or marry a cop.

As quickly as it had come, the scene in the street dispersed. The cops stuffed the woman in the car, and soon there was nothing left but the ice-cream truck.

And Max got back to his mate list.

Nice voice.

Nice hands.

Not a cop. Definitely not a cop.

Max continued on his quest.

He liked to think he was one cool cat and everybody who was anybody knew him, but in truth he had very little street cred since he wasn’t known outside the walls of his own home. Call it antisocial, but Max preferred humans to the company of cats. Cats seemed…well, kind of stupid. That was the only way to put it. Stupid and selfish. All they thought about was their own personal comfort. A patch of sun. Favorite food. Sure, those were all good, but a cat had to look beyond that sometimes.

It didn’t take long for Max to realize that without the confines of his home his internal clock was messed up. It seemed like he’d been walking for a long time, but maybe it would be equal to a nap on the front porch, followed by a snack, a little exercise with a cat toy, and another nap. He was pondering the passage of time when the houses dropped away and an expanse of green opened up. He heard high-pitched squeals that he knew belonged to kids.

Max hated kids.

Yes, there was Melody’s librarian gig, but Max and Melody had a silent agreement. He wouldn’t talk about his day if she didn’t talk about hers. Much. That was important in a relationship.

A man sitting on a bench caught Max’s eye.

He had wild gray hair and a gray beard, big black shoes that were untied, long strings that would have been irresistible had Max been home. Although nobody else was around, the man seemed to be talking to someone.

He had a nice voice. Soothing, and not scary in the least.

Max stepped closer.