🕵️‍♂️ Frankie Sinatro, P.I. — Episode 8 "The Night the Detective Feline Club Was Born"

Marites Cervantes
Dec 7, 2025
3 min read

Updated: Jan 4

Mr. Smart sighed as he dropped the meeting packet onto the table."Missing gardening gloves on Maple Street… vanished pumpkins… a kid lost his sneaker… someone’s chalk drawings disappeared overnight.”

Mrs. Smart added, “And Mrs. Vargas misplaced her glasses again.”

They both shook their heads, wondering how so many things could go missing in one small community.

But someone else was listening.

Frankie Sinatro, P.I., crouched beside the chair, ears perked, whiskers forward, absorbing every detail like a seasoned detective at a briefing.

To the humans, it was just chatter.

To Frankie?

It was a case.

As the Smarts went to bed, Frankie headed to the one place where all serious investigations should begin:

The front porch.

The porch was quiet, lit by the soft glow of the streetlamp. It was Frankie’s favorite observation post — high ground, good view, perfect acoustics for secret meetings.

He leapt onto the railing and gave a low, commanding chirp.

Billie arrived first, slipping out like a shadow wearing fur. Oreo followed — a little slower, a little rounder, but eager, with a crumb still clinging to his whisker.

Deano appeared next, trotting out through the cat door and settling right beside Frankie, eyes bright, admiration written all over his little face.

And up on the top step, Samy sat with quiet authority — the wise elder, watching, listening, offering his presence like a guiding lantern.

Frankie cleared his throat. The porch became his podium.

“We’ve got a situation,” he announced.

Billie straightened immediately. Oreo gasped, even though he had no idea what the situation was yet. Deano leaned in, soaking up every syllable.

“Mr. and Mrs. Smart went to the City Council meeting tonight. Humans are confused. Things are disappearing all over town — gloves, pumpkins, sneakers, chalk drawings, glasses.”

Billie’s ears twitched with interest. Oreo whispered, “Are… snacks missing too? "Frankie ignored that.

He lifted a paw dramatically.

“This isn’t coincidence. This is a pattern. And patterns,” he said with a serious squint, “are clues.”

Billie nodded like a seasoned agent. Oreo tried to look brave. Deano echoed Frankie’s posture, trying to look very detective-like. Samy blinked, slow and wise.

Frankie flicked his tail with authority.

“So, I’m making it official…”

There was a pause — the dramatic detective kind.

“From this night forward, this porch is our headquarters.”

Billie tapped the wood in agreement. Oreo attempted to tap too but hit the doormat instead. Deano lifted his chin proudly, sitting even closer to Frankie. Samy gave a dignified nod from above.

Frankie continued:

“And now… we form the very first Detective Feline Club.”

Billie’s eyes sparkled. Oreo puffed his chest proudly. Deano nearly vibrated with excitement. Samy gave a steady, approving blink.

Frankie stood tall against the night breeze, whiskers glowing silver.

“Casework begins immediately.”

And so, it did.

🧡 Deano’s Admiration (Corrected Canon)

Deano did not leave Frankie’s side.

From that night forward:

Deano followed Frankie everywhere. Down the hall. Across the living room. To the food bowls. To the porch. He watched Frankie’s every move like a tiny hawk — curious, devoted, ready to learn.

Every tail flick, every ear twitch, every investigative sniff was a lesson.

Deano didn’t just admire him. He wanted to be like him.

He wanted to help. He wanted to understand the world the way Frankie did.

And Frankie, although he pretended not to notice, felt something warm in his chest each time Deano trotted beside him.

The bond was forming.

A brotherhood was beginning.