Chihuahua Conspiracy

Chapter Twenty

As much as Octo-Cat had hated being tricked by the red dot when I had to capture him for our vet visit, that little moment of treachery served as the entire basis for our plan to catch Mr. Leavitt red-dot-handed.

“It’s not about the red dot,” Octo-Cat had waxed philosophically. “It’s about what the red dot represents.”

He’d gone on to explain that, for cats, the red dot itself is irresistible and basically impossible to ignore. My cat then urged us to find Mr. Leavitt’s red dot, and by that time Nan had already said it best: Money is its own motive, whether you have it or not.

From there, we flew full force into planning the charity gala and, with it, our master plan. So, the fifty-thousand-dollar donation was a total fraud. We had fake checks printed with a fake name and fake address and even a made-up account number, counting on our bad guy to do the bad thing and steal it.

Officer Bouchard had gone undercover in plain clothes to stake out the bank in Dewdrop Springs. At the end of the day, Mr. Leavitt had a decision to make. He could either continue to slowly embezzle funds from the failing animal shelter, or he could grab the big check and make a run for it. Our hope was that the fifty-thousand-dollar carrot—or red dot, using Octo-Cat’s preferred analogy—was enough to encourage him to do the latter.

“He’s leaving! He’s leaving!” Octo-Cat cried inside my ear while I pretended to be busy examining a tray of broccoli florets.

“Text him,” I told Nan, who had a text to Officer Bouchard ready to go on her phone. As much as I hated being left out of the action, my role in this ambush had officially ended.

“Good work, Octavius,” I said before removing my headpiece. After that, I pulled my phone out of my clutch and sent a quick text to Charles.

May I have this dance?

He found me a short while later, and together we swayed on my front lawn until the stars came out…

Actually, that would have been incredibly romantic, but we did have to face one minor distraction first.

“He’s got him.” I heard Nan’s words only moments before I felt her arms wrap around me from behind. She joined Charles and me in our dance as she whispered in my ear. “That fool went to the same exact bank as before. Turns out it had been him the whole time, except for the last two checks, of course. I’ll tell you more when I know more.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and then wandered off.

“Your nan just pinched my butt,” Charles told me with a laugh.

“Nan’s gotta Nan,” I responded, rolling my eyes. She and I could have a talk about boundaries later. Right now I wanted to enjoy my evening held tightly in Charles’s strong arms.

“How’d you know it wasn’t Trish?” he asked me.

“It was too perfect,” I murmured, ready to put this whole thing behind me and enjoy the rest of the gala as best I could.

“Kind of like you,” he said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, sure,” I joked, but snuggled closer to him all the same. If he wanted to believe I was perfect, then I refused to stop him.

It was Harmony of all people who finally gave the info that would solve the case. Remember that mean masseuse? Yeah, her.

Turns out Trish had visited Serenity day spa because Stone—whose real name was Declan—also worked at the Dewdrop Springs branch of the First Bank of Blueberry Bay. He’d helped Mr. Leavitt cash his stolen checks and then frame Trish for it.

And Harmony—whose real name was truly and legitimately Harmony—heard enough to testify against him. From there, he cracked wide open and confessed everything.

Paisley hadn’t seen Trish before because Trish didn’t technically work for the shelter. The sweet but forgetful front desk attendant Pearl was her grandmother, and for weeks Mr. Leavitt had been threatening to let her go due to her age and the suspicion she had early onset dementia. He’d used that threat along with a few carefully constructed lies to con Trish into carrying out his dirty work.

And when he sensed me and Nan hot on his tail, he set Trish up to take the fall for all of it. He’d sent her to cash the checks with Stone. He’d also sent her to buy the stolen supplies, instructing his lackey to purposefully end up in the wrong lot and force her to walk all about town with the hopes someone would discover her suspicious behavior.

And, yeah, I’d played right into his hand.

If it weren’t for my pets and that disgusting dead mouse, I may have never realized that we’d accused the wrong person.

Luckily, my pets were gross, and Mr. Leavitt—whose first name is Alex, by the way—would be going away for a long, long time. Now someone who really believes in the animal shelter’s mission will be taking over as the Community Outreach Coordinator.

Pearl.

A doctor quickly dismissed the dementia diagnosis and ruled her completely in good health and of sound mind. So now, she runs things, and her devoted granddaughter Trish has taken over as the first face you see when entering the facility.

Nan and I, for our part, plan to continue organizing fundraisers to help the shelter get back on its feet.

So I guess you can say we all lived happily ever after.

Well, until the next case anyway…