Chihuahua Conspiracy

Chapter One

Hi, I’m Angie Russo, and this last year has been quite the wild ride for me. Yes, it’s been exactly one year since my entire life changed for the better.

Sure, I’ve come face-to-face with a lot of dangerous characters lately—murderers, kidnappers, creeps, you name it—but I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s.

Here’s the deal… It all started at my former job as a paralegal.

A wealthy old woman had just died, and her heirs had gathered at our office for the official will reading. I was instructed to make coffee, and, well, that was the last time I ever attempted such a dangerous feat.

You see, I got electrocuted and knocked unconscious. I woke up with a wicked fear of coffee makers—oh, and also the ability to talk to animals. At first, I could only talk to this one cat named Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton. He was one of the primary beneficiaries of his late owner’s estate, and I now call him Octo-Cat for short.

Long story short, he told me the old lady was murdered and begged me to help him catch the killer. We did, and we pretty much became best friends in the process. Now he lives with me, and I oversee his care and also his generous trust fund.

And because I accidentally made an open-ended deal with him when I needed to get him to wear a pet harness, we now reside in his former owner’s exquisite manor house. Yes, a ten-dollar neon green harness ended up costing me a cool million.

At least most of the money was my cat’s, anyway.

Yeah. A lot has happened over the last year. My cat and I solved three more murders together. He got catnapped. I finally quit my paralegal job so we could open up a private investigation firm together, and oh, yeah… I got a boyfriend!

My nan might be even more excited about that one than I am. She’d been trying to matchmake me for years, and now that she’s finally succeeded, she’s not quite sure what to do with herself.

Yes, she continues to bake up a storm in the kitchen and take her community art classes, but lately she’s also been flipping through new hobbies like they’re going out of style. There’s been flamenco dancing, learning Korean as a second language, even Pokémon Go. She claims Pikachu understands her on a spiritual level. Personally, I don’t get it.

My mom and dad are busy with their jobs as Blueberry Bay’s local news anchor and designated sports guy. Nan and I have them over once per week for a nice home-cooked meal. Did I mention my grandmother and I live together?

It’s not weird. She’s not just the woman who raised me, but she’s also my best friend and the most amazing person I know. She even helps with Octo-Cat’s lavish demands and rigorous schedule.

And between the two of us, we keep him dining on only the seafood flavors of Fancy Feast and drinking Evian from his favorite Lenox teacup.

Most recently, he’s demanded a brand-new iPad Pro. His reasoning? That he needed a professional upgrade to go along with our new business venture. Never mind that he uses his tablet primarily to play various fish tank and koi pond games.

He’s given his old device to the president of his fan club, a raccoon who lives under our front porch. His name is Pringle, and he’s a pretty all right guy most of the time. Octo-Cat definitely enjoys having a fanboy to support every single decision he makes, including his regular criticism of me.

It’s true. Octo-Cat complains a lot, but I also know he loves me tons. That’s why I’m planning a special evening to celebrate our petaversary. I’m not sure he remembers, but after tonight he will.

I can’t wait to see the look on his little kitty face when he sees what I have planned for him. Let the games begin!

It wasn’t easy hiding my party preparations from Octo-Cat, but so far he hadn’t managed to catch on. Rather than cooking something myself, I asked Nan to pick up some grilled shrimp and lobster rolls from the Little Dog Diner in Misty Cove. It’s a bit of a drive, but worth every mile.

Nan would be returning any minute, which meant it was time for me to wake the guest of honor. I found him sleeping in his five o’clock sunspot on the western side of the house. “Wakey, wakey!” I cried in a sing-song voice he loathed.

“Angela,” he groaned, “haven’t you ever heard that you should let sleeping cats lie?”

“I’m pretty sure the expression is—you know what? It doesn’t matter. C’mon, I have a surprise for you.”

Whoa, close one. I almost used the word dog in a sentence. That little slipup would have ruined our whole night, but I caught myself just in time.

“A surprise?” he asked, yawning so wide that his whiskers overlapped in front of his nose. “What is it?”

“You’ll see. C’mon.” I patted my leg and motioned for him to follow.

But he sat his butt back down on the hardwood floor and flicked his tail. “Tell me, or I’m not coming,” he demanded.

“Octo-Cat, can’t you just—Ugh, fine. Today marks one year since we first met. Do you remember that day?”

“So you mean it’s been one year and one day since Ethel died?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and staring me down.

Oh, I didn’t think of that. I hoped he wouldn’t be too sad to celebrate.

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” he said with a cruel laugh, trotting over as he shook his head. “Happy anniversary, Angela. I’m glad you’re my human.”

Footsteps sounded on the porch. I hadn’t even heard Nan pull up, but now she was here, and we could officially begin our little party. I’d asked my boyfriend, Charles, to wait a couple hours before he turned up, since he and Octo-Cat didn’t get along particularly well as of late.

I secretly loved that my cat was jealous of my boyfriend but hoped that he’d eventually get over it.

“Nan?” I called when Octo-Cat and I reached the bottom of the stairs, but she still hadn’t entered. Padding over to the door, I twisted the knob and—

A wagging ball of black fur pounced into the house.

“I’m here! I’m home! Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Oh, boy!” the little dog cried, then immediately squatted and peed on the welcome mat.

I turned to Octo-Cat, who stood on the last stair with his back arched and his tail at full-blown puffball status. “Angela, what is this?” he screamed, unwittingly drawing the dog’s attention over to him.

“A cat! A cat! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy!” The dog, who upon closer examination appeared to be a Chihuahua, bounded right up to Octo-Cat and pressed his nose to the cat’s butt.

Octo-Cat hissed, growled, swiped with his claws, and sent the little dog shrieking away.

Yipe! Yipe! Yipe!

“What’s all this commotion?” Nan asked, charging into the house, spotting the little black dog and scooping the poor, whimpering baby into her arms. “Okay, fess up. Who hurt my Paisley?”

“Nan…” I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off the rapidly building headache. “Why is there a dog in our house?”

“This is Paisley. Yes, she is,” Nan cooed in a baby voice, and the Chihuahua licked her cheek, the horrible, scary cat and the pain he’d inflicted apparently forgotten. “She lives here now.”

“Oh, heck no!” Octo-Cat shouted from his spot on the stairs. “I thought we were celebrating me tonight, not taking a visit to the ninth circle of hell!”

“Nan,” I said trying to make peace before everyone lost their cool. “We can’t have a dog here. Octo-Cat hates dogs.”

“Hatesssssss,” Octo-Cat hissed, then growled again.

“He hates me?” the shivering little dog asked. “He doesn’t even know me. I’m Paisley, and I’m a good girl.”

Nan continued to talk in a goochie-goo voice, keeping her eyes glued to the mostly black tri-color Chihuahua in her arms. “Well, I saw this little girl at the shelter and right away she stole my heart. What was I supposed to do?”

She looked up and narrowed her eyes at me. “Was I supposed to let her stay in that cage all by herself? Or, Heaven forbid, let them put her down when the shelter got too full?” She covered Paisley’s oversized ears and frowned at me.

“No, I mean…” I sputtered. “No, of course you couldn’t do that.” Ack, I was such a softie.

“Octavius is just going to have to get used to his new housemate, because I’m not taking her back,” Nan said in a way that made it more than clear that this topic was not up for discussion. “C’mon, baby, let’s go outside and meet the forest creatures.”

Once Nan and Paisley were safely outside, I searched around for Octo-Cat so I could both explain and apologize on Nan’s behalf.

But he was nowhere to be found.

Crud, he was never going to forgive me for this one.