Grizzly Grievance. Persian Penalty. Deer Duplicity. Scheming Sphynx. Honeymoon Hearsay

Back in the bedroom, dear, sweet Paisley had wrapped herself around Octo-Cat so that he was the little spoon and she was the big spoon. Never mind that he was more than twice her size. It made for a comical picture, and I snapped a quick photo on my phone before leaving the pets to themselves and retreating to the bathroom to draw my bath.

What an adventure this was shaping up to be already. And no matter how things turned out with my long-lost grandmother, I doubted I’d ever be able to forget even the slightest bit of our journey to find her.

But oh, how I hoped this would end with a happily ever after.

9

Evening gave way to night.

I trusted Sharon and the info she had located on my behalf, but there had to be more to the story. Deep down, I knew my grandmother couldn’t be bad. At least that’s what I told myself over and over again as I soaked in that clawfoot tub filled past the brim with bubbles.

Eventually, I gave up on relaxing in the bath and tiptoed into the bedroom to try to catch a nap. Cat and dog were both still curled together and snoozing softly, which meant I might actually stand a chance of grabbing some shut-eye. Heavens knew I needed it after the terrible sleep I’d gotten the night before.

I slid off my diamond engagement ring and placed it on the nightstand beside my phone, then pulled the quilt to my chin and shut my eyes. It didn’t take long at all for me to nod off.

I awoke later when Charles returned via the sliding glass door. The room now lay in complete darkness other than the faint glow from his cell phone.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered as he made his way over to the bed and began to grope for the lamp. “We forgot to jam up the door like we said, and I was having trouble with the lock and key again. Go back to sleep.”

“It’s okay. I’m up now,” I mumbled, helping him with the lamp. Our hands collided, and something went skittering to the hardwood floor below.

“Oops,” I said.

Charles dove to the floor so I didn’t have to.

I glanced at the empty nightstand just as he popped up with my phone in hand.

“Can you grab my ring, too?” I asked, accepting the cell phone from him.

He returned to his hands and knees and searched under both beds.“Ang, I don’t see it down here.”

“But it’s gotta be there. I took it off before my nap and put it right by my cell phone,” I argued, getting out of bed to help.

We searched for a good five minutes but both came up short. So I decided to ask the cat for help—a decision I did not take lightly, but this was my engagement ring, after all.

“Octo-Cat, have you seen my ring?” I said, right after I picked up Paisley and removed any evidence of their shared nap. He’d never tell me a thing if he discovered what I’d let happen. He had a huge soft spot for the tiny rescue dog, but rarely was it enough to overcome the selfishness that came standard issue with his being an upper-middle-class cat.

“I’ve seen it,” he answered around a yawn. “Nothing special, if you ask me, but then again, neither is UpChuck.”

I pulled the pillow out from under him, and he rolled onto the mattress.

“Give that back,” he moaned.

“Take what you said back,” I demanded.

“No.”

“Where’s my ring?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You clearly have it out for Charles, so it makes sense you’d try to sabotage our wedding by—”

“I’ve had enough,” he spat, popping to his feet. “Call me when you come to your senses. C’mon, Mutt.”

Paisley looked at me with wide, shimmering eyes.

“Go,” I said. “Keep him out of trouble.”

She wasted no time scampering after him as Charles crossed the room and opened the sliding door, allowing both animals to disappear into the night.

“It’s really not here, is it?” I said, staring hatefully at my bare ring finger. How had I lived with it like this for so long? Darn it, I never should have taken that ring off.

“Let’s go check in with reception,” Charles suggested, moving toward the wooden door on the other side of our room. At least it was easy to open from the inside. “I saw Millicent was still up when I came through that way.”

Sure enough, Millicent sat in her chair with her book. At this point, I had to question whether our proprietress was, indeed, an art installation and not a businesswoman.

“Excuse me?” I said, stopping in front of her.

She held up a finger and continued reading for at least a minute before she finally raised her eyes to meet mine.“Yes?” Her eyes were wide, her expression mostly blank.

“Has anyone turned in a ring for the lost and found?”

“We don’t have a lost and found,” she replied with no follow-up questions and no hint of apology.

The fluffy orange cat hopped up onto a nearby windowsill to glare at me and Charles. Maybe all my time with Octo-Cat had made me cynical, or maybe I was still miffed about him bullying little Paisley, but something seemed off about him.

“Oh. Well, I have a lost item. A pretty important one at that.”

“I’ll let you know if anything turns up,” Millicent said, tucking an orange curl behind her ear and revealing an earring I hadn’t noticed her wearing before—a big dangly one with a little gemmed tassel.

The Persian’s eyes zoomed toward the gaudy piece of costume jewelry, and he wiggled his behind as if to attack.

“Not now, Louis,” the lady told him. He growled and ran across the room to hide. Poor cat must’ve been starved for stimulation if he got so worked up over earrings.

“Yeah, well, thanks for your help,” I mumbled, wondering if Millicent would even remember having our conversation.

“Oh, while we have you,” Charles interjected, waving his hand in front of her.

Millicent groaned and tore her eyes from the book a second time.“What is it now?”

“There seems to be a problem with the door to our room.”

She bobbed her head and shifted her jaw.“Uh-huh. Which one?”

“Both, actually,” he said with a chuckle. “One doesn’t open, and the other doesn’t close.”

“Oh, right. I put you in the Shoreline suite. The locksmith should be here early next week to fix both of them. I wasn’t going to book anyone in until that was taken care of, but then you two showed up with your little problem, and well, I had to do something to set it right.”

Charles’s brow furrowed. I could see he was about to go into full-on lawyer mode if I didn’t do something fast. “But—”

“Yup! Okay, thanks,” I said, grabbing him by the hand and leading him back around outside.

“I don’t think she likes us very much,” he said once we were both outdoors and out of earshot.

“Who would?” a nasty voice spat.

I looked around and found the big, orange Persian from earlier slinking by. Louis, that was the little scamp’s name.

I tamped down my urge to scold him like I would whenever Octo-Cat took up an attitude with me and refocused my attention on Charles.

“Care for a moonlight walk on the beach?” he said, waggling his brows.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said, falling into step beside him as we strolled outside and headed for the water.

“This would have probably been a better proposal than the RV, huh?”

“I liked your proposal,” I said, stretching up to give him a quick kiss.

“If you liked that, you’ll really like this. I’m pretty sure I found your grandmother.”

I gasped.“Really? Where?” It’s not that this news surprised me. It just made me so, so happy.

“Oh, no no no,” he tsked playfully. “You don’t get to jump to the end of the journey after sending me on that seagull chase.”

He moved to regale me with tales of his heroic exploits as he tooled all around the Katahdin area, trying to make heads and tails of Bravo’s directions. “I may have had to sample a few different fries to help me determine which were the good ones. Well, according to a seagull, anyway.”

“Eww, you ate out of the dumpster?”

He fixed me with a wounded expression.“Drive-thru, but thanks for assuming that.”

We both laughed for a good long while as we slowly moved along the beach, hand in hand beneath the night sky.

Everything would be okay. I knew it then. I’m pretty sure I’d known it this whole time, but it was easy to forget when my nerves got the best of me.

With Charles at my side, I could conquer anything. We’d meet my grandmother and find my ring.

We just had to take one thing at a time.

One foot in front of the other.

Yes, everything would be just fine.

10

I had another rough night of sleep. Coming here had only added to my worries. It’s not like I expected to find instant relief just knowing I was near to my grandmother, but every time I was left alone to my thoughts, dread prevailed.

The walk with Charles on the beach had put my mind at ease, but as soon as he drifted to sleep, the swirling cyclone of anxiety wreaked havoc once more.

Sharon’s news had set me on edge, and now every new inconvenience—whether big or small—pushed me closer and close to my falling point.

Quarreling animals.

A rude proprietress.

My missing ring.

The unlatchable door.

That last one really irked me. Generally, Maine was a safe place to be, but I didn’t like the thought that just anyone could walk off the street and accost us while we were sleeping.

Since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I decided to research the bed-and-breakfast online. First I checked the site Charles had used to book our stay, where our host had a 3.5-star average. Some of the less favorable reviews mentioned how rude and off-putting Millicent had been toward them during their stay, but most of the negative remarks centered around far more mundane things—an uncleaned room, cat barf in the hallway, not enough gluten-free breakfast options.

Feeling somewhat justified in my disdain for Mrs. Strobel, I decided to dig deeper, moving on to the more well-known travel sites to see what I could find in the much larger sampling of guest feedback there. One of the more recent reviews actually mentioned the faulty door we’d gotten stuck with. I read on with interest. That was two weeks ago, and still Millicent hadn’t bothered to fix the issue. I wondered if she even planned to fix it at all.

How far back did this issue go?

I did a search for“door” within the reviews and found three others that mentioned it. One was written several months ago. It also mentioned an antique brooch that had gone missing. I searched for “missing,” “stolen,” and other synonyms and found four more reviewers who had lost something valuable while staying in this bed-and-breakfast.

Was Millicent a thief? Were those gaudy earrings I’d noticed earlier taken from an unwitting guest?

And had Millicent moved Charles and me to this room with two double beds not out of judgment but rather to gain access to my engagement ring?

These were the questions on my mind when I finally drifted off.

I didn’t stay asleep for long, though. A cold breeze tickled at my cheeks, drawing my eyes to the glass door.

Open again.

Paisley lay curled at my hip, nestled between me and Charles under the blankets, but Octo-Cat’s bed sat empty.

I pulled on my robe and worked my feet into my shoes sans socks, then headed out using my phone as a flashlight.

“Octo-Cat,” I whisper-yelled after sliding the door shut after me. It would probably be open again by the time I got back to the room, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least try to close it properly. Had Octavius opened it on his way out, or did someone else enter our room?

I shuddered at the possibility of just that as I moved closer to the lake. An owl hooted in the distance, and a host of crickets sang a song about the night. It was catchy, that ditty of theirs. Perhaps one day I would learn the words for myself.

Right now, I was too worried about my cat to bother with anything else.

A dark shape shifted on the dock, and I increased my pace.

I pulled up short as I spotted Octo-Cat leaping and flipping into the air, almost dancing in the moonlight. This must’ve been what he was talking about when he mentioned his nighttime activities.

Standing there in the moonlight, I felt a little guilty for intruding on his joy.

“Angela, I can feel you standing there,” he said suddenly, falling to all four feet and then pausing on the pier.

“Sorry,” I muttered, going over to sit next to him. “I was just having trouble sleeping and you were missing. I got worried.”

“I woke up because that stupid door was open again,” he said, meticulously grooming himself. “I got up to see what was going on and I spotted that ugly, flat-faced, sorry excuse for a cat wandering around. I was going to give him a piece of my mind, but, of course, he disappeared before I could. You’d figure with a smell like that he’d be easier to follow.”

“Don’t get into any fights,” I warned him.

“Relax, Angela. I know what I’m doing,” he purred. “So why couldn’t you sleep?”

“The door,” I admitted with a sigh.

“Just the door? I figured you’d be nervous about meeting your grandmother,” he said, smoothing out his tail. “But you know you don’t need to be, right?”

I sat there shocked. Was Octo-Cat actually being… nice? To me? Now?

I stared at him, mouth agape.

“Don’t look so surprised. Sometimes your human ways actually make sense,” he continued, blinking slowly in my direction. “When we talked about finding my family, I was a bit nervous about the possibility. I mean, how could they possibly be as amazing as I am?”

He chuckled, and I found myself absently petting him behind the ears.

“But I realized something, Angela. If they aren’t amazing or awesome, that doesn’t change me. Because I’m still a superb specimen of feline perfection, even if they don’t quite measure up. I mean, so few could ever hope to hold a candle to this.” He postured himself with his chest puffed out and his nose held high, which made me burst out in laughter.

He nodded his approval.“The worst thing that can happen from meeting your grandmother is… well, nothing. Your life doesn’t change, and you just go back and live like you always have. And if we’re being totally honest here, you have a pretty great life for a human.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t need to.

If I drew this out, Octo-Cat would just return to his usual snark, and I wanted to savor this moment while I could. And so we sat there in the moonlight for a while longer before heading back to our room.

Yes, I needed the people and animals in my life to help me through this, which at first blush might make me seem weak and incapable of handling my own challenges.

But then again, that’s why we have loved ones to begin with. To get us through the bad and to share in the good.

Hopefully tomorrow would bring the latter for Charles, Octo-Cat, Paisley, me…

And my grandmother.

11

The next morning I was already showered, dressed, and ready by the time Charles woke up. I’d spent all week planning my outfit, and now that I was actually wearing it, an odd sense of reverence washed over me.

This was one of the most important things I’d ever done. And whatever happened—good, bad, or somewhere in between—this would be a defining moment of my life.

We fed the pets, then grabbed some coffee from the continental breakfast set-up Millicent had waiting for her guests.

Charles took a pre-packaged Danish, but I was too nervous to even attempt eating anything. Besides, I’d been spoiled by Nan’s expert baking all my life and had become something of a muffin snob. The blueberry to cake ratio of the ones sitting before me was all wrong. I didn’t have to try them to know that. The baked “goods” also looked more than a few days old. No wonder there had been complaints. The longer we stayed, the more and more reasons I was finding to justify the bad reviews.

“Let me just say it one more time,” Charles said as he jabbed his key in the ignition, and I pulled my seatbelt over my lap. “I think I’ve found the right place, but we won’t know for sure until we meet her.”

I nodded once.“Right. And I’m going in without any expectations.Que ser? ser? and all that.”

Charles reached for my hand and twined his fingers through mine.“No, you’re not. And that’s okay. It’s okay to want things to go well, so stop giving yourself such a hard time about that. Whatever happens, I’ll be right here.”

“Holding my hand?” I suggested with a grin.

He returned my smile and gave my hand another squeeze.“If you want me to.”

We held hands the entire drive, except for the few parts where Charles had a left turn to make or we ran into a bit of traffic.

Octo-Cat made occasional retching sounds from the back seat.

Good to see he’d recovered from the strange bout of compassion he’d shown me last night. I wondered if he was always like that at night. If he was only crabby during the day because he was sleepy.

“I can’t believe you signed on to be Mrs. UpChuck,” my cat ground out, “but then again, the role is perfect for you.”

“Thank you,” I said with a satisfied grin as the heated leather seat warmed my posterior.

“Huh?” Charles asked, briefly glancing my way.

“Thank you,” I repeated, this time to him. “For being here, for being you, for all of this.”

“Barf, barf!” Octo-Cat shouted at us.

I ignored him and leaned over to plant a kiss on my fianc?’s cheek.

“We’re here,” Charles announced a short time later, pulling into a condominium complex. “I think.”

Every single unit was a dull tan color, both the siding and the roof. It looked like we were stepping into a strange suburban desert right in the middle of Maine.

A group of high schoolers ambled past, their hands pushed down into the pockets of overly baggy jeans. One of them leered at me suggestively, sending a fresh wave of heat to my cheeks.

“Which one is hers?” I asked as Paisley barked furiously at the passers-by.

“Well, this was the one step of the journey I felt confident about. It’s the one with all the pink plastic flamingos.”

“Oh, right, the pink sentinels,” I said, remembering the directions I myself had transcribed. “Do you think she’s home?”

Charles turned off the engine and turned his full gaze toward me.“Only one way to find out. You ready?”

I swallowed down the lump that had formed in my throat. It was so thick, it felt as if it were stuck. Suddenly my eyes burned, and my skin tingled. My heartbeat sped to an upbeat tempo, and my chest grew heavy.

I let go of Charles’s hand and used mine to steady myself, splaying my hands out and grasping at whatever my fingers came into contact with. It felt like the car was spinning wildly out of control, but that was ridiculous. We were simply sitting here, side by side, with the engine shut off. I knew that and yet…

Charles said something, but I couldn’t make sense of the words. What was happening to me?

A million thoughts rushed through my mind, but I couldn’t grab onto any of them long enough for it to stick.

Paisley barked wildly. Charles continued talking to me in a steady, soothing voice. But I kept spiraling into an idle chaos, unmoored in a storm only I could sense.

It wasn’t until Octo-Cat climbed out of the back seat and settled himself on my chest that my breathing, heart rate, and everything else began to slow back to a reasonable pace.

I listened to him purr as I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on his fur and felt the vibrations warm my skin.“What happened?” I asked when I finally felt like myself again.

“I’m pretty sure you just had a panic attack,” Charles said carefully. He didn’t reach for me like he normally would but rather gave me some space to recover. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I told him and then lifted my face to look at the cat sitting on my chest.

This was so much like the first time I’d met Octavius that I almost feltd?j? vu. I’d had a medical issue, come to with him on my chest. The only thing missing was…

“I’m hungry,” he said, emitting a noxious cloud of day-old lobster roll breath. “How long has it been since you last fed me?”

“Yup, there it is,” I said aloud, nodding once even though I was only confirming it to myself.

“What?” Charles asked, reaching forward slowly before rubbing my arm in a steady, soothing motion.

“Cats will be cats,” I said with a small smile. For all his faults, Octo-Cat was someone I could always count on to be himself. And that made marching into the unknown easier, knowing that stability was never more than a furry companion away.

“How did he know to do that?” Charles asked, assessing the tabby.

“Who, me?” the cat asked, then stood and moved onto my lap to look out the window.

“Happened to Ethel from time to time,” he said while staring off into the distance. “Whenever she started breathing funny, she’d grab me and hold on tight. Eventually she would feel better. Figured it would work on you, too. You know, since all humans are pretty much the same.”

Funny how even after all our time together, Octo-Cat could still surprise me. I liked that. And I appreciated him now more than ever. For all his bluster, he still cared about me and was always there for me whenever it really counted.

He was here now, which meant I could do this.

I could meet my grandmother.

Learn the truth.

And keep on living my life.

It didn’t have to change me.

And I had a feeling my merry crew of tagalong companions wouldn’t let that happen, anyway.

12

Charles held my hand while I clutched Paisley to my chest with my free arm. Octo-Cat nosed around the shrubs in pursuit of a fat robin.

“Okay,” I said on the wings of an exhale.

Charles raised his finger and poked at the doorbell.

I focused on his fingers laced through mine, on Paisley shaking with excitement, on Octo-Cat making that ridiculous cat call that was meant to sound like a bird and lure them into his deadly clutches.

I listened for footsteps hurrying toward the door, but none came.

“Maybe it’s broken,” Charles said with a shrug before tapping his knuckles against the door three times in rapid succession.

“Aww, you scared it away,” Octo-Cat whined, pulling himself onto the cement stoop to stand beside us.

I didn’t bother to translate, but I did set Paisley down and tried pounding on the door myself.

“I want to help!” Paisley said before letting out a string of high-pitched barks.

“Make it stop. Make it stop,” Octo-Cat groaned and rolled onto his back, wiggling his spine against the pavement.

Still, my grandma didn’t come to the door.

“Okay, so she’s not home right now,” Charles said, turning back toward the street. “Let’s take a walk around the complex. See if we can learn anything from the neighbors.”

I nodded as he tugged me after him.

Paisley scampered after us, and Octo-Cat returned to the shrubs.

“I’m going to wait for that robin to come back. Let me know when it’s time to go,” he said before pouncing out of sight.

“You don’t think she’s avoiding me, do you?” I asked Charles as we rounded the block.

He shook his head emphatically.“Why would she do that? She doesn’t even know you’re coming, for starters, but also I’m sure she’s dying to meet you. Why else would she have moved so close?”

She had moved close. For some reason, I hadn’t considered that fact before. Hope filled my chest. “Do you think she might be looking for me and my mom, too?”

“Anything’s possible.” Charles picked up the pace. “Oh, look. There’s someone out watering the grass.”

A middle-aged man wearing cargo shorts and a sports T-shirt stood in brightly colored crocs with a hose in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Excuse me, sir!” Charles called, raising his free hand.

“If Susie sent you, you can forget about serving me with any more papers,” the man snarled. I guess Charles gave off that attorney vibe even when he wasn’t anywhere near the office.

“No, I don’t work for Susie or anyone else. We’re just here to see one of your neighbors. Could you tell me about—?”

The man raised his hand.“That’s enough right there. If it’s about a neighbor, it doesn’t concern me, and I have enough trouble of my own without sticking my nose into anyone else’s business. So just go on. Keep walking. Find some other poor sap, but you won’t get a peep out of me.”

I pulled Charles ahead.“Sorry to bother you!” I called to the man.

“Hey, you! Get that overgrown rat of yours off my lawn!” the man raged from somewhere behind us.

Charles and I turned back just in time to see Paisley lift her leg and let out a mighty stream of pee right beside the spot the angry guy had been watering.

He turned his hose on her and she ran away yipping.

“Good dog,” I whispered when she caught up to us.

“I thought only male dogs lifted their legs to pee,” Charles said rather than remarking on the man’s defensiveness.

“Little dogs do it, too. You know, to put some space between themselves and the ground,” I explained.

“Ah,” was all he said to that.

We walked in silence for a while until we came upon a couple jogging.

Charles tried to flag them down, but they both pointed to their headphones and made to run past us. Surprising me and the joggers, Charles threw himself in their way, forcing them to stop.

“What’s your problem, buddy?” The man loomed over us, ready for a fight.

“I’m just trying to get some information,” Charles said, taking a step back. “We’re looking—”

“Mitch. Yeah, he’s just over there watering his grass,” the man growled, pointing a meaty finger back in the direction from where we’d just come. “That’s who you’re looking for.”

“That’s who you guys are always looking for,” the woman parroted with poorly concealed disgust. “Sue ought to just let up on the poor guy, but you vultures are all the same. As long as your invoices are paid, you keep on keeping on. How does it feel to ruin people’s lives just to cut a paycheck?”

“We’re not lawyers,” I shouted in exasperation. “Well, Charles is, but that’s not why we’re here. We’re looking for the woman that lives in the apartment with all the flamingos. Her name is Lyn Jones.”

Both of them made faces like they’d just smelled something horrible.

“Her?” the guy asked.

“We don’t know her and don’t care to.”

The woman scowled.“Yeah. Why would we? All those lawn ornaments? Yuck. As if this neighborhood wasn’t bad enough.”

They continued to bicker between themselves about new people coming into the neighborhood and messing up the good dynamic they had going.

“Thank you,” I said with a sigh.

If they heard me, they didn’t show it. The couple took off jogging again, leaving Charles and me standing there dumbfounded.

“Care to keep trying?” Charles asked, shaking his head. “Three strikes before we’re out of here?”

“I don’t think I can take another strike right now,” I answered. The last thing I wanted was another panic attack.

He didn’t even question my decision.

Together, we returned to the unit with the pink flamingos to collect Octo-Cat and the car. I tried the door one last time since we were there already.

When my knocks went unanswered, I chewed my lip, then said,“I’m going to try calling her again.”

The phone rang and rang, but only on the other end of the call, not inside the house.

Charles frowned.“Like I said, it’s possible I got the location wrong. After all, Bravo’s instructions were pretty hard to follow.”

“No, this is it.” I wasn’t sure how I knew this was the place, but something deep inside me refused to be deterred. Besides, just how many stick-colored houses were there with pink sentinels standing guard around this place?

“Why don’t we head back to the bed-and-breakfast and get some lunch?” Charles suggested as he opened the car door for me and the animals.

“Finally, UpChuck is good for something,” Octo-Cat meowed as he settled himself into the back seat. “What are the chances we can find some lobst—?”

“No,” I cut him off. “Hey, Charles. Which place had the good fries?” I said, suddenly craving something salty.

“My darling, I thought you’d never ask,” he quipped, and we were off.

13

We parked outside the bed-and-breakfast, planning to go around back and enter our room through the sliding glass door. Charles carried the overstuffed bag of greasy fast food while I held an extra-large soda in each hand.

I’d planned on feeding the pets food we’d brought from home, but Octo-Cat had argued with me unrelentingly until I acquiesced, agreeing to purchase him a fish filet. We grabbed a plain burger for Paisley, too, since it would have been unfair not to treat her as well.

It wasn’t a total defeat on my part, though. I made them both swear up and down they’d eat their pet food the rest of the time we were here.

“C’mon, let’s get to the room before these babies get cold.” Charles preferred that no one eat in his car, so we’d kept the bag sealed tight for the entire drive back, the delicious scents tormenting me the whole way.

A flash of orange caught my eye. At first I thought it was Louis the cat, but then I realized it was Millicent who had been watching us.

“And just where have you two been all morning?” she demanded, wrapping her long, red fingernails around a can of Diet Coke.

“Oh, here and there,” I said with a shrug, then turned away.

But Millicent followed us, her flip-flops slapping against the gravel.“You weren’t up to anything illegal, were you? Why, just last night I had a guest tell me her diamond ring had gone missing.”

I gaped at her.“That was me. My ring went missing.”

She balked, then sputtered as she searched for words.“Well, what did you do with it? Come out with it, then.”

“I tried to tell you all of this last night. Weren’t you listening? I took it off to get some sleep, then when I woke up it was gone.”

She considered this before narrowing her eyes and demanding,“How do I know you’re not trying to frame my establishment just so you can collect the insurance money and get something better?”

“Are you actually serious right now?” I exploded. She was lucky my hands were full, or I’d—Okay, I wouldn’t actually do anything untoward, but sometimes it was nice to pretend that I might.

“C’mon, Angie,” Charles urged, tugging at my elbow and motioning with his chin. “Our lunch is getting cold.”

“But she can’t talk to us like that,” I insisted, returning the cruel woman’s glare. “See, this is why I’m guessing you don’t get many return guests. Personal items go missing, the doors don’t work, and you’re one of the rudest people I’ve ever met!”

“I can’t believeyou would talk tome like that,” Millicent snarled. “I don’t have to let you stay here. In fact, pack your bags and—”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until my ring is returned. So if you want to get rid of me, I suggest you find it first. Now good day, Millicent.”

I stormed off with Charles and the animals in silent pursuit.

“Meee-yeow,” Octo-Cat said, then let out a low whistle. “I’ve never been more proud of you, Angela. It seems I have taught you something, after all.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it,” I said, kicking off my shoes and slumping down onto the bed. My heart was beating like crazy again. I needed to stop getting so keyed up before it sent me to an early grave.

The toilet flushed in our connected bathroom, and I tensed up even more.“Who’s there?” I shouted, still teetering on the edge.

The door burst open, and Sharon stepped out with her hands raised in the air.“Sorry, sorry. That glass door was open, so I let myself in. I wanted to apologize for how we left things yesterday and check to see how you’re feeling today. Did you meet your grandmother? How did it go?”

Charles motioned for Sharon to join us and handed her a large container of fries.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to intrude,” Sharon began to argue, batting her eyelashes.

Charles pushed the fries at her again.“It’s okay. I had at least five servings yesterday as part of my search. I’m all fried out.”

She studied him with a furrowed brow.“That’s a bit… odd. What do you mean you—?”

“Thanks for coming by,” I blurted out, drawing her attention back to me. “We went to her house, but nobody was home.”

She frowned.“Oh.”

“Yeah, and she’s still not picking up her phone, so we’re kind of stuck.”

“Oh, boo.” Her features crumpled into an even deeper frown. It was totally at odds with her usual free-spirited style. And so was her current outfit for that matter.

I looked the gray suit up and down, pausing briefly to take in the bright red clogs.“Sharon, what are you—?”

“Wearing?” she finished for me, her smile returning. “I have a meeting with the show’s publicist, and I had no idea what they wanted from me, so a nice lady at the store helped me select this business suit. I hate it, but hopefully it will show I’m good at taking direction. She gave me shoes, too, but they were terribly uncomfortable. Luckily these clogs from my visit to New Amsterdam paired nicely.” She paused to suck in a quick breath. “I know Chessy is the star, but I’m the one who signed all the papers, so…”

“You look great, Sharon,” Charles said with a friendly grin. “Very professional.”

She blushed mightily.“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

Charles shifted his weight on the bed, jostling me in the process. Sharon sat opposite us on Octo-Cat’s bed while he worked on his fish filet on the floor.

“Hey, Sharon,” Charles said, balling up his burger wrapper and tossing it back in the bag. “While we have you here, maybe you can help us with something.”

Sharon straightened her posture and placed her hands in her lap.“Anything.” She was batting her eyelashes again. Oh, brother.

“You said you found some information about Marilyn’s trials,” Charles reminded her.

“Yes, but the records were sealed.”

This didn’t deter Charles one bit. “I may be able to get around that, if I find the right people to ask.”

Sharon and I both looked to Charles askance.

He waved off our concern.“If I can find out where any of the cases took place, I can contact the prosecutor’s office and let them know I’m working on a family case. See what they can tell me.”

“Sure, let me just email you my notes,” Sharon said, pulling out her phone. When that was taken care of, she leaned toward me. “Not only is he handsome, he’s brilliant, too,” Sharon confided in me with a whisper more than loud enough for Charles to hear too.

This time Charles was the one to blush mightily.

Octo-Cat’s muffled voice rose to meet my ears. “And here I thought you were the only one crazy enough to join the UpChuck fan club,” he said around a mouth full of food. “Looks like you aren’t even the president, anymore.”

This was getting ridiculous. I wasn’t threatened in the least, but I still scooted closer to Charles on the bed and rested my head on his shoulder.

“You are a lucky, lucky girl, Angie Russo,” Sharon said. “Now don’t you forget to invite me to the wedding. It is my new life mission to land myself an uncle or a cousin. If they’re half as perfect as your Charles, I’ll die a happy woman… Now let me see that beautiful ring of yours again.”

“Um, actually, it disappeared while I was taking a nap,” I admitted with a frown.

“It’s missing?” Sharon’s eyes widened and she let out a huff. “Well, it’s got to be around here somewhere. Want me to help you look?” she offered, sliding off the bed and onto her feet.

I stood, too.“Yeah, we searched everywhere, but—”

Sharon nodded sympathetically, then glanced toward the digital clock that hung on the wall opposite.“Oh, shoot! I can’t stay to help, or I’ll be late! Call me later! We’ll find that ring—and that grandmother—yet. Don’t you fret!”

And then Sharon ran off so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.

14

“That was weird,” I said, watching as the glass door bounced back open following Sharon’s sudden departure.

“You don’t think she…?” Charles let his words trail away as he got up to push the door shut as best he could.

I tilted my head and scowled at him.“Are you actually suggesting she stole my ring?”

“She doesn’t seem to have a problem entering without permission, and well…” His words fell away again, and he shrugged.

“She has a big, fat crush on you. Is that what you wanted to say? That she is so smitten for you that she stole the ring so she can fantasize about being your bride?”

“Smittenwith,”Charles corrected with a sigh.“And, well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that, but it’s not like we have any other leads to go on.”

“Sharon is my friend,” I reminded him. “If anyone stole my ring, it’s that nasty Millicent.” True, Sharon had only been my friend for a week, but she’d made up for her bad first impression, unlike the owner of this bed-and-breakfast who just kept making things worse every time we ran into her.

Charles sat back on the bed and placed an arm around my shoulders.“We’ll find it. I promise, but let’s try to figure this thing out with your grandma first, okay?”

I nodded.“You’re right. One thing at a time.”

“Exactly.” He got up to retrieve his work bag.

“So, I guess, you see what you can learn from what Sharon gave you, and I’ll check her social media.”

“Mommy!” Paisley let out a sharp bark to get my attention. “May I please go outside to play?”

“Right, okay.” I opened the door for her and watched her frolic toward the sandy beach. “I think I’ll go out, too. Keep an eye on her,” I told Charles. “Come get me when you’re ready to head back out?”

He gave me a hearty thumbs-up. He’d already pulled his laptop out and situated it onto his lap. You can take the guy out of the office, but getting the office out of the guy was a whole different story. Charles’s lawyer skills had come in handy many times before, and they just might be the thing to save the day now.

I’d be gutted if we had to leave Katahdin without ever meeting my grandmother. We just had to find her. We had to, and we would.

I approached the lake and found Paisley digging a hole in the sand. She didn’t even notice me as I approached.

“What’s that?” I asked when she pulled her head out with a small, black object in her mouth.

“It’s a pretty rock,” she mumbled, accidentally dropping her prize when she did. She yipped in surprise, grabbed it back up, and ran off with tail wagging. I was fairly certain my nan’s dog had just unearthed a clam but had no idea what she was actually doing with it. It’s not like she’d be able to crack open the hard shell and get at the meat inside.

I shrugged and continued cutting a path toward the dock. Well, whatever Paisley was up to, at least she was happy about it. Sometimes I envied her, how easy it was for her to see the best in every situation.

Me, on the other hand, I had a hard time not worrying about what would come next. Especially now.

I’d told Charles I would check Grandma Marilyn’s social media. Mostly it was because I’d have felt guilty if he dug deep into research while I sat around twiddling my thumbs.

Of course, I’d already checked her social media as soon as I knew her current name and location. I’d tried to find her before last night, but Jones wasn’t exactly an uncommon surname. I finally managed to find the correct profile yesterday evening while I was supposed to be relaxing in the tub.

Unfortunately, my grandmother hadn’t posted a single photo of herself during all her years on the site, assigning a simple stock-image daisy to serve as her profile picture.

She also rarely updated her status. When I checked last night, the most recent one had been made about eight months ago—commentary on some TV show she’d just started watching on some cable channel I’d never heard of.

I navigated to her profile now, expecting to see the exact same feed.

But no.

My grandma had posted an update less than an hour ago. We’d probably just left her neighborhood at the time.Whoa.

“Nothing beats sunny skies and sandy beaches! Hello, San Francisco!” she’d captioned a photo of the Golden Gate bridge.

Wow. Was she really clear on the other side of the country?

What dumb luck.

Of course, California made sense. Her phone had a Cali area code. Hey, maybe she was planning to move back and change her name again.

Then I’d never find her.

I scrolled through my newsfeed idly, completely frustrated with this turn of events and wondering how I would break it to Charles, especially considering that we’d lost my engagement ring because of our trip out here. And it hadn’t even been a full week since he’d proposed.

Ugh. I was the worst fianc?e ever.

Tears stung at the edges of my eyes, and I didn’t try to hold them back. Stupid San Francisco, I thought, looking for someone to blame other than myself.

Then, for whatever reason, I navigated back to my grandmother’s profile to look at that picture again. Perhaps it was just to wallow in my dumb luck, or maybe I’d subconsciously realized that something didn’t quite add up.

That’s when I saw it. She’d checked in when she posted the photo, not at the Golden Gate bridge in San Francisco, but at the Golden Wok in Katahdin, Maine.

Oh my gosh.

She was here—here and lying about it.

When she’d tried to pull up the Golden Gate bridge, the social media site must have brought up nearby establishments with similar names. My grandmother hadn’t noticed that the geo-tag gave her away.

But why would she lie about being out of town?

“Hi, Mommy!” Paisley called as she rushed past me, then dipped her head and picked up a pink shell, only to immediately take off running again.

“Hi,” I called back distractedly. My grandmother was here, and she knew I was looking for her.

She wanted to put me off her scent, but I refused to go home without meeting her first. Maybe she’d never want to see me again after—and that possibility hurt me deeply—but, still, I at least had to try.

I’d rather meet her and have it go badly than never get the chance at all.

Now I just had to tell Charles what I’d found, and we could figure out our next steps from there.

15

When I shared my discovery about the failed social media checkin with Charles, I may have mentioned how much I wished Pringle was there to help us make a plan.

And Octo-Cat took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.

“The dog and I are better than that raccoon fraud could ever hope to be,” he growled and then insisted he could handle things from here.

We drove back out to the condominium complex, and I watched as the pets tore away from the car to begin their top-secret recon mission. Octo-Cat had declared the details of the operation to be on a need-to-know basis and then had proceeded to explain that I did not need to know.

Charles reached over and squeezed my knee.

With growing trepidation, I closed the door so that he could drive us around the corner and out of sight.

The part of the plan that I’d been privy to involved Charles and me circling the block slowly while the animals followed through with their mission to track down my missing grandmother.

“Am I wrong for kind of wishing the raccoon was with us?” Charles asked later with a snort. “At least he keeps things interesting.”

By this point, we’d driven around the neighborhood at least a dozen times, and the residents had noticed. If we kept this up much longer, we’d soon have a cop car on our tail.

“You know I only brought up Pringle to get Octo-Cat to think helping us was his idea, right?” I reminded him with a laugh. “So, yes, you are very wrong for thinking Pringle’s presence would improve anything. You don’t have to listen to him prattle on the way the rest of us do. Do you knowduring our last trip, he decided to pick up trucker lingo?”

Charles burst out laughing.“You’re kidding. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I’ve tried my best to block it out, honestly. He was going on and on about Smokeys and ten fours and whatever else. I couldn’t manage to understand the half of it.”

“Huh. Makes me wonder if you could understand animals speaking a foreign language. Like—”

“Stop the car!” I shouted as I spotted the waggy black blur of Paisley rushing down the sidewalk barking at us.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” I heard her crying as soon as the door opened.

“I’ll park the car and catch up,” Charles called as I jumped out of the car.

“What’s going on, Paisley?” The little dog leapt into my arms and frantically licked my face.

“We found her! We found your grandmama,” the Chihuahua yipped excitedly. “Follow me!”

She leapt from my arms and began sprinting at full tilt. I glanced back to make sure Charles was coming before I started running after the quivering bullet of a dog.

I sprinted after Paisley, thankful for the time Nan had forced me to work out with her friend’s dog Cujo for a time. Of course, the husky had moved at a steady, even clip, unlike the wildly darting mini-dog I was attempting to follow now.

My current canine guide also didn’t seem to worry much about the obstacles I was having trouble getting around, over, and under. The first thing I tripped over was a sprinkler, and it sent me crashing down onto the same lawn that belonged to that grumpy guy we’d met earlier. Why? Just why?

Staggering back to my feet, very little time passed before I crashed headlong into a raspberry bush.

Meanwhile, Paisley remained blissfully unaware of my challenges and of how far I’d fallen behind. The little dog’s legs were almost invisible with her sprinting, hopping gait.

Trying to focus on Paisley meant not paying enough attention to the road ahead of me, and I thumped into a set of garbage cans, then jammed my knee into a fence post.

Maybe we should have followed her in the car. Too late for that now, I guessed.

Off-balance and disoriented, I was overwhelmed when I saw that Paisley was no longer surging forward. She now ran tight circles behind one of the condos.

“Mommy! Mommy!” she yelled. “It’s right here! This is the place!”

And there was my grandmother, sitting at a small patio table with Octo-Cat, who was happily munching on a shrimp cocktail. I stood there, woozily, my mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out. It would so leave the wrong impression if I threw up now.

Octo-Cat looked up at me and yawned before licking the sauce off his paw.

“Angela,” he purred. “This is your grandma Lyn. Lyn, Angela.”

“Hello, Angela,” Lyn said, almost as if she were responding to Octo-Cat. “Sorry for giving you the runaround, dear. I’m… Well, I was afraid you’d be disappointed, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.”

My heart felt like it was breaking for her. She had been just as worried about meeting me as I’d been about meeting her.

But before I could find something to say, she continued.“I was tipped off that you were heading my way when your friend… Um, what was her name again?”

“Sharon,” Octo-Cat replied.

“Ah, Sharon,” Lyn said as if prompted by Octo-Cat. “The reality star that was looking into me wasn’t the subtlest of people. So I knew you were coming here. When I saw you and your fellow sitting out in your car for so long, I knew it just had to be you.”

She poured more iced tea into her glass and added a few more shrimp to Octo-Cat’s cocktail.

“Of course, the moment you got out, I knew for certain. The family genes are extremely strong. You look so much like my sister did when we were growing up. But I’m sure that’s not why you made the trip out here.”

“Of course not,” Octo-Cat said, polishing off another shrimp. “We were here to find out why your husband decided to take your child and make a run for it.”

I winced at Octo-Cat’s bluntness.

“Relax, Angela. I understand how cats can be,” Lyn said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. “And for the record, you’re right, Octavius. I lost my dear little Laura because her father didn’t believe me when I told him I could talk to animals. Such a shame.”

Whoa.I still hadn’t even said so much as hello, and already my grandmother had told me her big secret.

It was a secret we shared.

Did this mean…? Could I talk to animals because she could? I couldn’t wait to hear more.

16

A few minutes later, Lyn handed me an old photograph and a fresh glass of iced tea. She handed a second glass to Charles, settled back into her chair, and pulled Octo-Cat onto her lap.

I expected him to object, but he simply curled up and began purring.

“That’s your mother,” she said wistfully. “It was the only picture I had of her for so many years until I found her on the news. There’s so much I missed from all of your lives. But I guess I understand. Your grandfather wasn’t a bad man. He was just scared.”

I nodded along. Gosh, I just loved listening to her voice. She could talk forever, and I’d be her willing captive.

“It all started when I was working at the diner to pay my way through college,” Grandma Marilyn continued. “Jimmy, the owner, was a good enough guy, but he was also a cheapskate.” She glanced at me over the edge of her glasses, and I laughed. “He wanted to fix every last little thing himself. Said repair shops were all a scam to bilk the working man out of his hard-earned money.

“So when the power cord to our industrial sized coffee maker got frayed, Jimmy fixed it. It didn’t work that well, but cheap was better than good, if you asked him. As for me, I ended up taking quite a shock. When I woke up, I found the world a lot noisier than it had been.”

“Me, too!” I squealed, standing up and jabbing my thumb into my chest. “Oh my gosh, it was the exact same!”

Grandma Marilyn laughed.“Yes, Every animal was talking and the problem was that only I could understand what they were saying. I tried to keep it secret for as long as I could, but when animals know you can talk to them, they won’t leave you alone. I’m sure you understand that.

“William tried to be understanding. After all, we’d been together a short time and he thought maybe it was just overwork or some sort of ‘female thing’ that was causing me to think I could understand animals. And the doctors, they agreed with him. Claimed it was some sort of pregnancy-induced hysteria. Times were different back then. I didn’t have many rights as a young, unwed mother-to-be. William had done right by me and proposed. Our wedding wasn’t far off, either, until I started talking to cats and dogs. Then he found one reason after another to delay. And then with the doctors involved, I wound up on bed rest and drugged out of my mind on who knows what kind of drugs.

“I barely remember giving birth to Laura. In fact, for a time, William convinced me that I’d never been pregnant in the first place. I can’t really be mad at him. He thought he was helping me. If he didn’t really love me, I’m sure he would’ve just had me committed and taken off. But, though we never did make it official via marriage, he stuck with me through it all. Trying to fix me. Trying to get rid of the voices in my head.”

I squeezed Charles’s hand under the table.

My Grandma continued on, her eyes dry. As tragic as this tale was, she’d lived it. She’d already come to terms with how her life had turned out.

“For ten years I was in and out of institutions. Bouncing from one diagnosis to another. Schizophrenia, multiple personality disorder, psychosis, detachment from reality. They threw everything at the wall to see what stuck.

“We ended up out in California of all places when I managed to talk to a desert cottontail. He was very different from any of the animals I’d spoken to before, and it sort of clicked in my mind that I wasn’t crazy, no matter how long doctors and my beau had been trying to convince me otherwise.

“I broke out of the hospital and went on the run. It was much easier in those days. No cell phones, no electronic credit card monitoring. It took actual phone calls and detective work to track down someone that didn’t want to be found.

“Sure, I hit a few speed bumps along the way, a couple of arrests and some close calls with my abilities, but I learned how to hide it from everyone, and I tried to appear normal for a time. Not much of a life, I know, but I was at least out of the hospitals.

“Of course, old William felt guilty and eventually tracked me down to a small town near the Florida-Georgia border. Gave me this picture of Laura, thanked me for letting him go so that he could find someone else. He said he still loved me, but that we weren’t any good for each other.

“I never saw him again after that. But knowing that your mother was out there, I had at last found a purpose. I drifted from town to town, doing whatever work I could find and making friends with any animals that might be able to help me track down my daughter.

“That’s actually why I’ve got such a large collection of flamingos out front. Each one represents a close friend I’ve made along the way. Of course, wild flamingos only live to be about twenty, so sadly, that display is more like a memorial.”

She leaned forward and steepled her fingers.“Angela. I don’t know how to tell you this, but having this gift is a lonely life. Sure, you can talk to all the animals, but you really miss out on the human connections that give life meaning. And that’s why I was so worried you would reject me. No one wants a crazy old woman in their family tree.”

“I do,” I said, unshed tears blurring my vision. “I want it more than anything.”

“I do, too, sweetie. When Octavius here told me you and I shared more than just a passing genetic resemblance, I thought maybe, just maybe I’d found my family again.”

I offered her a smile that started small but then grew to take up a huge portion of my face. I’d sat transfixed for her entire story, and now I just couldn’t help it—I threw my arms around her and gave my grandmother a hug.

The first of what I hoped would be many.

“I’m so glad I found you,” I whispered, not wanting to let go.

“Thank you for not giving up on me. I can’t have made it easy.”

“Actually, when you have a moment, I’d like to teach you about social media safety. That way, the next time you want to hide from someone, you don’t make the same silly mistake.” I explained how I’d determined she wasn’t really out of town, and together we shared a great big belly laugh.

We sat at that rickety patio set for hours, sharing stories of our lives, telling her about what Charles and I hoped for with our wedding, and of course, remembering all the weird and wonderful animals who had enriched our lives along the way.

“Do you promise you’ll come back tomorrow?” my grandma asked after we all shared a delicious dinner of grilled chicken and vegetables.

“You couldn’t keep her away if you tried,” Charles promised, pulling me into his side as we both stood.

“I know that,” Grandma Marilyn said. “I already tried and failed.”

We all laughed again and said goodnight. This didn’t feel like a first meeting. It felt like coming home.

Like family.

17

Charles and I returned to the bed and breakfast well after dinnertime, both with huge smiles on our faces.

“What a day,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said back. It was all either of us needed to express. Our time with my grandmother had said it all.

“I liked Grandma Lyn,” Paisley said as I lifted her into my arms and climbed out of the car.

“She reminded me of Ethel,” Octo-Cat remarked, drawing Paisley’s and my eyes to him.

I didn’t say anything because we were no longer in the privacy of the car, and Millicent had already proven she wasn’t above spying.

“Hang on a sec,” I told Charles and waited.

Luckily, Octo-Cat didn’t hesitate to continue. “What?” he asked, stretching in the backseat while we all waited on him. “She’s a nice, old lady. A nice, old, relatively normal lady. Also, she had tea.”

“I don’t know why I was expecting something more profound,” I murmured to myself.

Paisley squirmed within my arms.“What about thepound?”

I patted her head.“Everything is perfectly fine. Let’s head back to our room,” I said while looking at Charles, just in case Millicent was watching.

The gravel crunched at the edge of the lot as another car pulled in. And not just any car—a police car.

“I smell trouble,” Octo-Cat said with a grin, hopping out of the car and craning his neck to see better while hiding behind my legs. Always hungry for someone else’s drama, that one.

Millicent spilled forth from the entryway, waving her arms overhead.“Officer, officer! This is them!” It looked as if she’d taken great care with her appearance, considering the obscene amount of both makeup and jewelry she now wore. She’d been expecting us.

The policeman unfurled himself from the driver’s seat, reaching an impressive height, close to seven feet, if I had to guess. He tucked his thumbs into his belt loop and approached me and Charles.

Paisley shook and squirmed, not because she was frightened but simply because she was eager to say hello to the new arrival.

Clearly a dog person, the cop reached over and scratched under her chin with his thick fingers, then pulled back and glared down at Charles.“You been giving Mrs. Strobel trouble?”

“No, sir,” he said, standing in place, far more calm and collected than I could ever be in this type of situation.

“Are you kidding me?” I boomed.

Millicent ran in front of us, shouting,“Yes! Yes, they have! Then they refused to leave when I asked them to. That’s why I’d like you to escort them from the property!”

The officer glanced at each of us in turn, finally deciding on Charles as the most rational one among us.“Would you like to tell me what happened here today?” he asked, pulling out a notebook that looked comically small in his oversized hands.

Charles didn’t miss a beat. “My fianc?e’s engagement ring went missing,” he explained, taking care not to talk with his hands the way he usually did. “We reported it to Mrs. Strobel immediately upon discovering its absence last night.”

The officer bobbed his head.“And then?”

“This afternoon, we returned from meeting a friend when Mrs. Strobel met us outside the bed-and-breakfast, demanding to know where we had gone and whether we’d engaged in any illegal activity. She then accused us of stealing the ring, not realizing that we were the same ones who’d reported itmissing. When we pointed this out, she accused us of implicating her establishment in a planned insurance fraud, which I can assure you is not accurate.”

The officer raised one eyebrow.“Then?”

“Then she demanded we leave. Naturally, since we had booked our reservation for two nights, we didn’t see any reason to check out before said duration. Also, my fianc?e was not eager to leave before we could find her missing engagement ring.”

“Uh-huh. Then?” He glanced sidelong at Millicent, who stood openly scowling at Charles.

“We had lunch with a friend in our room, went back out to visit the same friend that we’d gone to see that morning, and then returned, leading to present circumstances,” Charles concluded.

Millicent shook a finger at us. The sleeves of her oversized mint silk blouse belled in the wind.“You see that? They have too many friends! I don’t trust them one bit!”

The policeman shifted his posture slightly so that he was facing Millicent.“Ma’am, what evidence do you have that these two guests of yours faked the disappearance of their engagement ring?”

She patted her stomach furiously.“I don’t need any evidence. I feel it all right here. In my gut! Always go with your gut!”

The officer pressed his lips into a firm line.“Unfortunately, that’s not how the law works. Without any evidence to go on, I won’t be able to follow through on your request. Also, it seems to me that you are, in fact, the one in the wrong here.”

Her jaw fell open.“What?” she barely managed to gasp. I was guessing that neither Millicent’s brain nor her lungs were getting much oxygen in that moment.

“Quite simply put, you’re harassing these people.”

She shook her head, apparently too angry to argue. Well, good, because I was more than done here.

“There’s something else, too,” Charles shot in, finally speaking freely again, hands and all. “A case of gross negligence. You see, there’s this problem with our door…”

I listened with a smug grin as Charles went on to describe our issue with both the front door and the side door for our room. He also filed a formal police report about my missing ring.

At some point, Millicent stormed off. If she hadn’t hated us before, she definitely did now.

Charles and I laughed the whole thing off as we made our way back to the room. Not even Millicent’s ridiculous antics could spoil the wonderful day we’d had with my grandmother.

“That plan backfired on her, huh?” Charles asked with a wink.

“Oh, spectacularly!” I giggled. “And I loved every moment of it.”

Suddenly, Paisley surged forward, barking as she ran.“Get away, you big bully!”

I just barely spotted the flash of orange as Louis scurried off into the night.

“Paisley!” I lifted her to my face and let her lick my cheeks. “I’m so proud of you! You stood up to him all on your own!”

“And don’t come back!” she yelped into the night, clearly very pleased with herself.

“What a strange trip this has been,” Charles said as we finished the walk to our bedroom. The door, as always, was cracked partially open.

“Strange, but good,” I added.

We bobbed our heads in agreement.

“But let’s stay somewhere else next time we come to pay Grandma Marilyn a visit?” Charles wanted to clarify.

I grabbed his hand and planted a kiss on the back of it.“Definitely.”

Next time we came for a visit, I already knew exactly where I’d be staying. Grandma Marilyn had invited us to come soon and often and said we always had a place to stay.

And who needs decently reviewed bed-and-breakfasts when you have family?

18

“For all its faults, there is one thing I’ll actually miss about this place,” Charles said after we’d both taken a moment to relax following the stressful encounter in the parking lot. Our emotions were ping-ponging all over the place out here, and we just needed a moment to catch up with them.

“Oh, yeah.” I turned toward him with an expectant smile. “And what’s that?”

His cheeks lifted in that signature smile I loved so much.“Beach access.”

“There are a million beaches back in Glendale,” I reminded him, wrinkling my nose playfully.

“Yeah, but none are right outside our back door.” He stood and offered me his hand. “One more moonlight stroll?”

“Oh, you hopeless romantic, you,” I teased. Really, Sharon was right. I was, in fact, the luckiest woman alive.

I followed Charles in a lovesick daze until a short way from our room, I tripped and stumbled forward.

Thankfully my knight in shining armor caught me before I could connect with the ground.

“What was that?” I asked, glancing back but unable to see what had tripped me up.

Charles took out his cell phone and shone the flashlight onto a small pile of assorted beach bric-a-brac.

“Just some random nature stuff,” he said with a shrug. “At least I believe that’s the technical term for it.”

“Wait,” I shouted as he moved to slide his phone back into his pocket. “Go back over that stuff again, but a bit more slowly this time.”

Charles shrugged and did as I asked, moving the light back and forth until it caught on a shiny black rock.

No, not a rock.

“That’s a clam, right?” I asked, remembering the scene with Paisley earlier.

He shrugged again.“Yeah, I think so.”

I ambled over and pointed at a pink shell.“And that’s a shell?”

“Yes, that one I’m sure of. I’m absolutely certain that is a seashell.” He poked me playfully in the side, but I was too focused to return his silliness in kind.

“Paisley,” I called into the night, turning back toward our room, which was still in sight. The little black dog nudged the glass door open and then came bounding toward us.

“Yes, Mommy?” she asked, one ear tall and pointy and the other flopped forward.

“Do these things belong to you?” I said, motioning toward the upset pile.

“My treasures!” she cried, running to them and rolling around. “What happened?”

“Yup, that’s what I thought. Case solved. Well, almost. Maybe. C’mon, we need to talk to Octo-Cat,” I told Charles.

But Paisley whimpered and refused to follow along,“No, please don’t tell him about my treasures. I don’t want him to steal them from me like he does at home.”

“I promise I won’t tell him about your secret hoard,” I assured the distraught pup.

She followed, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

“What’s going on?” Charles wanted to know as we approached the cabin.

“I have an idea about what might have happened to my ring,” I told him right as I pulled the door to our room wide open and the three of us stepped inside.

“What do you want now?” my cat demanded. “I thought I was finally getting a bit of me time, but noooo. Here you all are. Again. Story of all nine of my lives. Ugh.” He let out a long sigh, but I refused to fall prey to his dramatics.

“You’re a cat. Literally every second of every day is your you time,” I told him.

Octo-Cat scoffed but said nothing more.

When it was clear he’d yielded the floor, I said, “Listen, I need your help.”

“Yup, there it is!” he spat and flicked his tail. “You’d be lost without me, admit it.”

“If I do, will you help?” If my pride was the price of his assistance, I’d happily give it up. I’d lived with a cat for long enough to know how this whole thing worked. Which meant I also expected what came next.

Octo-Cat flopped onto his side and yawned.“I’ll think about it. Really, I’m quite tired. Between sleuthing and helping you sort out your cloying human emotion, you’ve been working me hard all weekend. I need some time to rest and recharge.”

“Shut up, you!” Paisley barked and kicked her feet back. “If Mommy needs our help, then we’re going to give it to her!”

“Paisley!” I said in shock. She almost never took a tough approach to anything, especially not when it involved the big feline brother she idolized.

Octo-Cat stared at Paisley with large amber eyes.

Paisley stared back with shiny black eyes.

And I couldn’t believe what happened next.

“Whatever,” Octo-Cat backed down, blinking his eyes slowly as he turned to me. “Just tell me what you need, so we can get this over with.”

Knowing better than to waste time questioning the madness I’d just witness, I moved ahead with my original intent. First, I explained the theory I’d developed after stumbling over Paisley’s beachy hoard, then I told them what I needed them to do.

Octo-Cat rolled onto his feet.“C’mon, Mutt. Let’s go do the thing.”

But Paisley didn’t follow. “It hurts my feelings when you call me that,” she said firmly.

Seriously? What the heck was going on here? Octo-Cat was showing his softer side while Paisley was standing up for herself. Nothing made sense anymore. Perhaps this place emanated some kind of strange magic.

Ha, as if!

Once the animals departed, Charles held his hand out to me.“Now about that walk.”

19

“Is every trip with you going to be like this?” Charles asked, kissing the back of my hand.

“Yup, and you’re stuck with me now,” I laughed.

“I don’t mind,” he said, pulling me close to gaze into my eyes. “I know your grandmother had a hard time because of her gifts, but I want you to know that I plan to always be here for you, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her back then. To be so alone and for so long.”

“Well, you might have to keep the secret from everyone else, but you’ve got a lot of us who are there for you.”

“Yeah, I know, and I—”

“Mommy!” a little voice interrupted.

I pulled away from Charles and looked out into the night to see Paisley bounding up with Octo-Cat hot on her heels.

Octo-Cat held up a paw, struggling to catch his breath.“We…we…we found it. Which means… You owe me… A lobster roll.”

“Okay, so where is it?” I asked, excitement crashing over me. Ahh, what a rush! This was one crime I couldn’t wait to solve once and for all, not only because of what had been stolen but also because of who was at fault.

Tugging Charles along, I followed the pets inside and went over to the front desk where Millicent sat grumbling to herself while she read her book.

“Excuse me,” I said, ringing the bell on the desk.

Millicent rolled her eyes and moved the bell.“Go away,” she grumbled, adding in a few choice words under her breath.

“I just wanted to let you know that we’ve caught the thief that’s been plaguing your bed-and-breakfast,” I revealed with a self-satisfied smirk. Okay, so I wasn’t being the most professional in that moment, but Millicent hadn’t actually hired me, so I was justified in my approach. At least that’s what I told myself now.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she said, slamming her book onto the desk.

Instead of baiting the old woman further, I walked over to the antique armoire Octo-Cat and Paisley were patiently sitting by. I pulled on the door, and it swung open to reveal…nothing but an empty armoire.

“Behind it,” Octo-Cat whispered.

“Oops,” I said, closing the door. “Charles, could you help me here and move the armoire over a bit?”

Nodding his agreement, he got low on the furniture piece and slid it across the floor, revealing a large hole in the wall with a fat, orange cat asleep on a pile of valuables like a flugly—that’s fluffy and ugly—dragon. Near the top of the horde sat my ring, shimmering in all its matrimonial magnificence.

“It looks like your cat has been taking things from your guests and stashing them here,” I said, triumphantly plucking my ring from the pile and allowing Charles to slide it back onto my finger where it belonged.

The old lady’s skin went pale, and she stammered a bit before finding her voice. “I’m so sorry. To the both of you. I had no idea Louis was using his nap spot for something so… so… That’s a bad kitty!” She scooped the pile out of the nook, jostling the cat from his place.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I honestly thought that my guests were lying and trying to sink my business. A developer had offered to buy the place a year ago, and I thought because I’d turned him down, he was trying to run me out of business. I guess that’ll teach me to get too involved in my stories. Oh, I owe so many people apologies, and I’ve got to make sure all of these things get back to their rightful owners. Thank you so much for helping me out, and after I was so rude to you.”

“So can we be friends now?” I asked.

Her face soured.“I still don’t approve of your shenanigans. And also your beau scratched my floor when he moved that armoire. Expect the repairs to be added on to your bill.”

My jaw dropped. From sour to sweet and back again almost instantaneously. I swear, there was no winning with some people.

“I still don’t care for you much, but since you managed to help me, I’ll let you stay until check-out tomorrow morning,” she said reluctantly. “But I don’t want you two back here until you’re well and properly married. I run a wholesome business here. Now go, get out of here, before Ichange my mind.”

Charles and I rushed away, laughing the whole time.

Millicent didn’t know the first thing about us or our relationship, but she believed what she wanted to—and we had nothing to prove.

Now that I had my ring back, I counted this weekend a perfect success.

20

I always loved getting away, but even more than that, I loved coming back home. My life rocked, now more than ever.

I was surprised to find Nan waiting up for me even though it was quite late.“How was your trip, dear?” she asked, stretching her arms overhead and standing to greet me.

“Did you get my message?” I asked, scooping her up in a hug.

“Yes, all seventeen of them. I’m sorry I didn’t return any of them. This felt like a conversation we should have face to face.”

Hmm, now where had I heard that before. Sharon. I’d need to call and give her an update since we were unable to meet up before Charles and I headed home again. I had a feeling we’d both be seeing a lot of her in our future, starting with our upcoming nuptials.

“Shall I put on some tea?” Nan offered, hooking her thumb toward the kitchen.

“No,” I said, gently lowering myself onto the couch and patting the cushion beside me. If I gave Nan an excuse to put this off, she’d keep finding more and more reasons to put it off further. If we were going to have this talk, we needed to have it now.

I reached forward and grabbed both of her hands in mine, waiting for Nan to share what was on her mind.

“I’m sorry I kept you away from your grandmother all these years. It’s the one thing in my life I truly regret,” she said with a sigh.

I shook my head emphatically.“I don’t.”

She lifted her eyes to mine, searching.“What?”

“I don’t regret you doing that, and neither should you.”

Nan swallowed.“Was she really that terrible?”

“No, she was actually pretty cool.” I smiled, remembering the moments we’d shared that weekend.

And Nan’s expression pinched.

“But I’m glad I grew up with you,” I quickly added. “Marilyn is nice, and I look forward to getting to know her much better, but you’ve helped shape my life into what it is today. And I love my life. I love you. I wouldn’t have wanted anything different.”

“Really?” Nan looked so frail in that moment. For the first time in a long time, I really saw her age. She’d lived through a lot and carried one very big secret for most of her life. How did she feel now that it had been exposed and that everyone still loved her just as much as before?

“Really, really,” I said in a silly voice.

She laughed at my reference to an old movie we’d watched together countless times in my childhood.

“Will you believe me this time?”

Nan wiped away a tear, then grabbed my hands again and gave them a good squeeze.“I’ll try.”

“Well, that’s the best any of us can do, right?” I winked. “Someone super smart and awesome taught me that.”

“Speaking of all those lovely adjectives, how was she? Did you find out why William…?” She let her words trail off, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to voice what her late friend had done. With that single action, he’d changed all of our lives forever. We’d never know exactly why he’d done it, but I trusted Grandma Marilyn’s interpretation of events. Of course, it led me to wonder if my missing grandpa would have accepted me for who I am, if he’d gotten the chance to meet me before he passed.

Sometimes I had a hard time remaining serious in serious moments. I knew a joke wouldn’t help here, so I called upon my best impression of Charles. “Well, you see, the prevailing theory is that he took Mom away because he believed he was keeping her safe from Marilyn.”

Nan’s eyes bulged. “Was Marilyn dangerous? Is she now?”

I waggled my fingers.“She’s kooky-crazy. Turns out she can talk to animals.”

Nan gasped.“You can’t be serious!”

I just smiled and nodded.“No one would believe her, including Grandpa. He chose never to see his own daughter again rather than to believe something so magical could be possible.”

Nan gasped again.“Oh, that poor old man. He missed out on so much.”

“It was his choice,” I pointed out. “Marilyn never got a choice. You didn’t have much of one, either.”

“He made a choice, but it was the wrong one. That doesn’t sound like the friend I knew. Still, I’m so incredibly grateful for the life we’ve shared.”

“Me, too,” I said, peppering her cheek with a kiss.

Nan shook her head and looked down at her lap.“You and Marilyn must have had a lot of stories to share.”

“We did, and I really like her.”

What Nan said next surprised me more than anything else had so far that weekend.“I think I would, too.”

“Good, because she’s coming over for dinner next month. I figured that would give everyone enough time to let everything sink in, and it’s still well before the wedding. By the way, I have a new friend that I just know you’re going to love. Her name is Sharon, and…”

We stayed up the whole night talking, just like the old days. I had a lot to tell my mom, but that could wait until tomorrow. She had her own feelings about our sordid history, and I’d have to find a way to help her work through them.

But that’s what the people in your life were for.

They were there for you.

And it was okay to lean on them when you needed to.

I learned that this weekend, and I hoped with time my grandma Marilyn would be able to learn it, too.

I couldn’t wait for her to meet the rest of the family, and I couldn’t wait to delve further into our shared ability and what it could mean for us in the future.

Would Pet Whisperer P.I. get a new partner member?

Heck if I knew. But for once, not knowing was actually part of the fun.

15. DEER DUPLICITY

1

My name is Angie Russo, and I live a strange life. Thanks to my charming fianc? and kooky nan, my life is full of love. It’s also full of noise… so much noise.

I can talk to animals, and once they find that out, most don’t want to shut up. It all started with Octo-Cat. He and I met at a will reading, back when I was still working a temp job as a paralegal. His owner had just passed, and I’d just had an unfortunate run-in with a busted coffeemaker. Put the two together and—bam—our odd friendship was born. The first thing we did together was solve the murder of his former owner, which took some doing since everyone else happily assumed the old lady had died of natural causes.

Once I’d officially adopted my tabby companion, I became the trustee for his rather generous trust fund, and the two of us moved into his former owner’s old manor house. I brought my nan along, and she later adopted the most adorable pound puppy, a mostly black tricolor Chihuahua we call Paisley.

Somewhere along the way, our gang realized we had a knack for solving mysteries and started up an official business, which—much to my chagrin—has been dubbed Pet Whisperer P.I. The last thing I want is strangers knowing I can talk to animals, but luckily they all seem to think our moniker is a joke or some misguided publicity attempt.

Whatever the case, they’re always happy once we get the job done. Admittedly, most of our cases are unpaid. And usually we’re not even formally hired. Mysteries just fall into our laps, and well, what else are we going to do to fill our days?

I don’t take kindly to being called an amateur sleuth, mind you. I have an official business with a registered LLC and everything. That makes me a professional, thank you very much.

My fianc? is the senior partner at a local law firm—the same one I used to work at. That place saw tons of turnover until Charles took his place at the top. Now things are nice and steady, and together the two of us make up the small-town Maine version ofLaw and Order.

The last prominent member of our quirky ensemble is our very own trash panda, Pringle. He’s a sticky-fingered raccoon who lives in a treehouse out back. He likes cat food and Nerf guns, but he loves reality TV. Most of the time he causes more problems than he solves, but we love him anyway. Well, most of us do.

Even after more than a year together, I’m pretty sure I only register as “kind of like” on my cat’s affection scale, and Pringle ranks much, much lower.

Me? I’ve got all the love I can handle between planning a wedding and getting to know the bio grandmother I recently reconnected with after a lifetime of not even knowing she existed. The best part? My Grandma Lyn can talk to animals too, and believe me you, we’ve talked about our shared talents until we were both blue in the face.

Nan still feels a little jealous, but she’s working on it. I could meet a hundred long-lost relatives and would still never turn my back on the woman who raised me and in the process became my very best friend.

As much as I’m looking forward to tying the knot with Charles, a small part of me is dreading it too. I’ve lived with Nan almost my entire life—the whole thing excluding a brief period when I tried to establish independence in a crummy rental. Marrying Charles means I’ll be moving in with him, and Nan has made it clear that we newlyweds should be granted our space when the time comes.

I guess for now I’ll soak up every second with my funny, sunny grandmother. It’s not like we’ll be moving far away. In fact, I won’t be moving at all. Nan has decided to buy her old house back from Charles—what a lucky turn of events that he bought her old place when she moved in with me at Octo-Cat’s manor house—and Charles will move in here with me. It’s a short drive and one we’re all already used to making on the regular.

Things won’t be so bad. Just different. I’ve already told Nan to expect me over for dinner at least five times per week, and I also plan to keep her room exactly as it is in case she ever decides to move back. She’s not getting any younger, though I swear she’s in better shape than me and will likelyoutlive us all… even Octo-Cat, who has nine lives to lose before he’s through.

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Normally I wake up to the smell of Nan’s fresh baked goods wafting from the kitchen. Today, however, a sharp pain on my chest lurched me from sleep.

“Confess or die!” Pringle shouted and sent Paisley scampering over my chest once more.

“Stop! You’re scaring me!” the little Chihuahua yipped, tucking her tail tight beneath her as she ran.

“You’re scaring us all, kiddo. That’s what happens when you keep secrets from the fuzz.” Now the raccoon was sitting firmly on my chest as if I were some kind of soapbox for his ridiculous speech. His claws were sharp, and it hurt.

“Pringle,” I growled and shoved him off me. “You’re not supposed to be in the house, and you’re especially not supposed to be in my room.”

“Sorry, toots. Didn’t mean to wake ya, but you’re harboring my main suspect, and that won’t do.” He shook a little black finger in the air. “There’s no hiding from the long arm of the law!”

“But I don’t even have arms!” Paisley cried. “I’m a dog. I only have legs!”

Pringle slapped his hand into his forehead and sighed heavily.“Dick Tracy never had to deal with this, I can assure you.”

I wasn’t sure whether he was talking to me, himself, or an imaginary audience. Whatever the case, I was done with this whole thing. Ever since our resident raccoon developed a taste for old back-and-white gumshoe films, we’d all been short on rest. Lately, he turned everything into a case to be solved. Yesterday we were all treated to the case of “Why is the water bowl empty?” Admittedly, that one was pretty open and shut; Pringle spent more time recounting the glory of his victory than he did investigating.

“Go play somewhere else.” I pulled the blanket over my head, praying that this time they might actually listen.

Paisley slipped under the comforter and licked the inside of my ear.“Mommy!” she squeaked so loud it sent me bolt upright. “Pringle says it’s my fault there’s a big truck outside. He said I’ve been feeding secrets to the Russians. But I don’t even know who that is or why they’re in such a hurry.”

It was way, way too early for this. Unfortunately, past experience dictated there was no way I’d be getting back to sleep. Besides, poor Paisley had always been too easy of a target for Pringle. He would stay on her until I forcibly split the two of them up.

I groaned and swung my feet to the floor.“Pringle, you are not allowed in my bedroom. Not in the morning. Not ever. Understood?”

“Yeah, I understand. The cat and dog are allowed in, but just because I’m a raccoon…” He threw his arms up in the air. “That’s profiling. Just because I’ve got a mask and rings on my tail. Frankly, I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Outdoor animals need to stay outdoors,” I eked out between clenched teeth.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetheart. Do you even hear yourself?” Something lit in his eyes, and he laughed. “Oh, I get it. This isn’t about me at all.”

“It’s not?”

“No, you’re threatened by my investigative prowess. I get it. A failed P.I. like you? Of course you’re threatened by a brilliant ingenue such as myself.”

“Excuse me,” I thundered, then chased the little bandit out of my tower, down two flights of stairs, and through the electronic pet door, which somehow he’d managed to hack once again.

Paisley ran behind me, barking the whole way.“And stay out, you no-good doodoo head!” she ruffed before bolting through the pet door herself.

I pulled back the drapes to watch the two of them fly through the yard where, sure enough, an enormous moving truck stood idling in our driveway.

2

I strode through the door and right up to that big truck, then motioned for the driver to roll down his window. When he did, he looked me over with an odd smile, making me realize I was still barefoot and in my oversized polka-dotted pajamas.

“Hi. Can I help you with something?” the driver asked, tipping his baseball cap cordially.

Suddenly I became very conscious of the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra and crossed my arms over my chest to preserve my decency as much as I could given the situation. “This is my driveway,” I offered with a shy shrug.

He stared at me blankly, blinking a couple times in clear and utter confusion.

“I didn’t order a moving truck,” I added for clarity.

“Oh. Right. Sorry about that.” The driver stopped speaking and frowned. After a bit of hesitation, he continued, “We’re helping the old lady next door. My crew is running a bit late, so she sent me away and told me not to come back until we’re all here and ready to clock in for the job. She also mentioned that she’d be reducing her payment.”

“Confess!” Pringle screeched at the top of his lungs as he and Paisley darted beneath the truck, then ran back out again. Luckily it seemed like my companion didn’t notice the rogue animals skittering about.

“Just how late is your crew?” I asked, trying to keep our conversation on topic despite the crazed antics taking place right in my front yard.

The driver glanced toward the digital clock on his dashboard.“Maybe seven minutes now. They had an early morning pack-up across town and agreed to meet me here to unload. That first job ran a few minutes over, but they’re on their way now.”

He sighed, and I inadvertently found myself doing the same.

“Sounds like your day is starting off a bit rough.”

“I’ll say.” He dipped his head and sighed again just as Paisley and Pringle scampered off into the forest that lines our yard. Once again, he missed seeing them entirely. Still, I felt bad for the guy, having to wake up early just to wait.

“Can I bring you anything? Coffee? A muffin?”

The corners of his mouth lifted into an odd smile but then immediately gave way back into a frown.“That sounds divine, but I really shouldn’t. I don’t want to give the old biddy anything else to complain about.”

Hmmm, this couldn’t be good. My new neighbor had only just arrived and already she was leaving a sour taste in people’s mouths. Then again, maybe she wasn’t quite as bad as the mover was making her out to be. He could have fabricated his story to make his crew look better. Whatever the case, someone had finally moved into the vacant manor next door, and stopping by to welcome her would be the neighborly thing to do. Even if I was a bit nervous about it.

I said a quick goodbye to the driver, hoping the animals wouldn’t resurface to bother the poor guy, then marched back inside to find Nan.

Normally she kept busy in the kitchen this time of day, but today she was nowhere to be found. She had, however, left a handwritten note:

Out with Grant at Tulip Festival.

Back by Noon.

I flipped the notecard over and found a postscript scrawled on the back:

P.S. These are for the new neighbor. Tell her I’ll come by to say hi later!

I swear, nothing happened in this town without my nan first knowing about it. A little heads-up about the new neighbor would have been nice, but at least she’d made up for it by putting together a lovely muffin basket.

I took a quick detour upstairs to make myself a bit more presentable, then grabbed Nan’s latest batch of delectable baked goods by the wicker handle and headed for the door.

Octo-Cat lay snoozing in a sunspot by the entryway. The tabby hadn’t been there when I passed by a couple minutes ago, but now he was in such a deep sleep that he appeared dead to the world.Best to let sleeping cats lie,I reasoned, choosing not to disturb him until after I had some gossip to share about the new neighbor lady.

When I stepped out onto the porch, the big moving truck was still idling in my driveway but Pringle and Paisley had made themselves scarce. I hoped the wily raccoon wasn’t being too hard on the poor little dog. Although past experience told me that would be just the case.

I’d go and find them after saying my quick hello next door and put an end to this game once and for all, even if it meant putting some kind of child lock setting on Pringle’s streaming services. He’d eventually become obsessed with another film genre, but at least it would buy us some down time while he browsed.

One thing at a time, though.

As for my current task, the fastest way to the old Harlowe estate was via the woods that separate our lots, so I pushed my way through the thick canopy of trees, taking care not to upset my muffin basket.

When I emerged from the forest, I found an old woman with short white hair and a sour expression yelling into the cell phone she held out in front of her on speaker phone. I saw her profile as she paced her wide porch, but she didn’t seem to notice me standing at the edge of her property with my basket of goodies.

“I already told you,” she spat. “Wild dogs are roaming my property, and they’re upsetting the local fauna. They already scared off a mother doe and her fawn when they tried to pay me a visit.”

“Wild dogs?” the dispatcher on the other end responded skeptically over the speaker phone. “That’s not a very common problem in Glendale, not since Pearl took over at the shelter.”

“Are you suggesting I made this whole thing up?” the woman fumed.

The dispatcher immediately fell in line.“No, no. Of course not. Can you please describe them?”

Pringle came up beside me and placed a hand on my lower leg, making me cringe with fright.“Hey, toots. Whatcha got there?” he asked, gesturing toward the basket with his furry chin.

“Huge beasts,” the neighbor continued as she motioned wildly with the hand that wasn’t holding onto her phone. “One was black like a hellhound. The other had stripes.”

I glanced down at Pringle and his big, fat striped tail. No. She couldn’t possibly…

“Mommy!” Paisley let out a high-pitched bark, running across the lawn toward me and Pringle.

“There they are now!” the neighbor cried, finally looking up and spotting me.

I offered an uncomfortable wave and held the basket of baked goods out before me as a gesture of peace.“These are for you.”

“Miss, Miss, are you still there?” the dispatcher asked after several moments of silence on the old woman’s part. “Have you been hurt?”

She turned her back to me and continued.“Send someone immediately. My address is…”

I stood frozen to the spot in disbelief. What could Paisley and Pringle possibly have done to upset this woman so much in such a short period of time? And just whom had she called to issue her complaints? She wasn’t even moved in yet for goodness’ sake!

“Animal control is on the way,” she turned to inform me with a steely gaze after finally hanging up the phone.

This startled me even more than Pringle’s sudden appearance at my side. “Animal control? What? Why?”

“Seems you can’t control your animals. Shame, but someone has to do it. They should be here within the next ten minutes. I suggest you take your two dogs and leave unless you want to have them taken to the pound… or worse.” She let the implication linger between us.

“It’s just one dog. A Chihuahua named Paisley.” I bent down and snapped my fingers to call the dog to me. “She’s really very sweet. I’m sorry if her playing disturbed you.”

Paisley came running. Once she reached me, I shifted the muffins to one side and scooped the Chihuahua up with my free arm, tucking her into my armpit.“I’m your new neighbor, Angie. I live right next door with my nan. If you ever—”

“Can it, Angie. You only get one chance to make a first impression, and your hellhound already did it for you. I think it’s best if we both just leave each other alone.”

“But—”

She pointed toward the forest with a shaky finger.“Now go! Get off my property, or I’ll call the police.”

I briefly debated leaving the muffins, but you know what? She didn’t deserve Nan’s little bites of heaven, and I sure wouldn’t mind scarfing down a few to help me forget this horrible start to the day.

Good riddance!

3

“Where were you?” Octo-Cat asked drolly as I strode back inside and all but slammed our heavy front door. “And hey, why the attitude? It isn’t very becoming of you, Angela.”

I stopped mid-stomp and turned to face my tabby where he sat idling on the coffee table.“I just met the new neighbor.”

He flicked his tail and stared at me with large amber eyes that gave nothing away.“I take it things didn’t go well.”

“She was horrible. A monster!” I cried, throwing myself into the nearby armchair and sifting through the muffin basket until I found the one I wanted—a nice big cinnamon crumble.

I took a big bite right off the top, then continued speaking around my fresh mouthful of sweet and spicy mush.“She called Paisley a hellhound. And she called animal control on us! Wouldn’t even let me say hi before she shooed me out of her yard.” I swallowed my first bite and took another.

Octo-Cat pulled his ears back flat against his head until they almost seemed to disappear.“Has anyone ever told you that you eat very noisily and with far more saliva than necessary?”

I groaned.“Yes,you. And at least half a dozen times at that. Are you even listening to what I’m saying right now?”

“Believe me, I’m trying. It’s just hard to make out your words over all the smacking and snarfing. I’m trying to lend a sympathetic ear, but you’re being very rude, Angela.” His tail began to wag wildly, suggesting that if I didn’t give in to his demands, I may find myself on the receiving end of a serious hissy fit.

“Me? I’m not the rude one here, but never mind.” I placed my partially eaten muffin on top of the others in the basket, then brushed off my hands and opened my mouth to show that it was now empty.

Octo-Cat nodded his approval.“You may proceed.”

I repeated the whole thing again, becoming angrier and angrier as I did. Seriously, what was this new neighbor’s deal? Did she just hate dogs, or did she hate all living things as a rule?

Octo-Cat held up a paw to silence my tirade.“You need to keep your voice down. Did you know cats can hear three times better than humans? Right now, you’re little more than a noisy siren blaring right in my ear.” He looked me up and down. “In fact you look like one too with that red face of yours. Did you wake up on the wrong side ofthe litter box today, or what?”

I grabbed the muffins again and hoisted myself from the chair.“Forget it. I’ll go tell it to Paisley. Or Pringle. Or, hey, maybe the new neighbor isn’t quite as bad as I thought, after all.”

My cat said nothing as I marched away. His hot-and-cold attitude always kept me guessing, but I wasn’t in the mood for games this morning. I needed a sympathetic ear and something worthwhile to distract me. Besides, I’d promised myself I would save Paisley from Pringle’s pretend interrogation just as soon as I’d checked in next door.

Hmm. Now where could they be?

I stashed the muffin basket in the kitchen, keeping one in my hand to nourish me on my search, then headed back outside. Thankfully, the moving truck had now pulled away. Presumably they’d gone next door to finish their job of sticking me with the world’s worst neighbor.Bah.

I wasn’t often in a foul mood, partially because I hated who I became whenever rage flew through my veins. Maybe I could ask Nan to lead me on one of her guided meditations when she got back home. Or heck, maybe I’d hit the town and engage in a little retail therapy. True, considering my P.I. client load was light, my funds came directly from my cat’s trust fund—but if he’d simply been willing to extend a sympathetic ear, I wouldn’t need to find some other way to lift my spirits.

Yes, shopping. That would be a good way to keep myself busy today. Just as soon as I rescued that poor little dog of mine.

“Paisley!” I cried, trotting down the porch steps and sweeping my line of vision across the yard.

But she didn’t come running. Didn’t even bark in acknowledgment. Weird.

“Paisley!” I tried again, eyeing the forest for any sudden flash of movement.

When I still didn’t receive any response, fear began to claw at my quickly beating heart. The new neighbor hadn’t hurt her, had she? Honestly, after our rude encounter, I wouldn’t put it past her. Oh no.

I broke into a jog, rounding the house, calling out for Paisley at the top of my lungs.

“Yeesh. Will you quiet down already?” Pringle poked his head out of his tree house and stared down at me with shining black eyes. “Raccoons have hearing that’s at least a thousand times better than humans. True fact. I heard it on the Kardashians. Anyway… you’re giving me a headache, and you’re interrupting my interrogation. Not a winning combo, toots.”

“Mommy,” Paisley whimpered softly from somewhere above me. What?Noooo.

“Pringle, did you…?” But I didn’t even need to finish asking the question before I was tossing my muffin to the ground and launching myself up the ladder and into the trash panda’s tree fort. Sure enough, the little dog sat cowering in a live trap. And every time she shook, the entire cage rattled in response.

“Pringle,” I fumed, unable to tear my eyes away from the terrified pup. “How could you?”

He appeared unmoved by the whole thing as he settled himself comfortably in the window.“The dog wouldn’t submit to questioning, so I had to bring her in.”

“He said he would gag me if I answered you when you were calling, Mommy.” Paisley spoke fast and in a higher pitch than usual. “I don’t know what that means, but I was so afraid.”

“Open the cage,” I commanded between gritted teeth. “Open it right now.”

“All right, all right. So dramatic. She’s not hurt. See?” Pringle deftly unlatched the cage, allowing Paisley to bolt out straight into my arms.

“He dognapped me!” The little dog barked and whined, burrowing into me. “I’ve never been so afraid in my whole life, Mommy.”

I stroked Paisley and cuddled her to my chest while glaring daggers at the raccoon.“Pringle, you’re losing your TVs and your Nerf guns, and if I ever catch you inside my house again, I’ll turn you into Davey Crockett wearable memorabilia.”

Pringle brought a hand to his chest and gasped.“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t try me.” Of course I would never hurt him or any animal, but he’d gone too far in kidnapping and trapping Paisley, all because of some imaginary role-playing game. I’d just about had it with this day already and was close to calling it off altogether. Would it really be that unforgivable if I went back to bed before even fully finishing my breakfast?

I tucked Paisley under my arm and then began to slowly descend the ladder. Halfway to the ground, a question popped into my mind and I retraced my steps.“Pringle? Where did you get that live trap?”

He shifted to his haunches and smiled at me with pointy teeth exposed.“Oh, I found it on the porch next door. It looked handy, so I swiped it.”

A wave of anxiety crashed over me.“You stole this from our new neighbor?” If she found this thing on my property, she was going to be livid.

Pringle shrugged.“Steal is a harsh word. More like I borrowed it.”

Now I was really torn. If that cruel woman actually managed to trap an animal, there’s no telling what she might do to torment it. Then again, the last thing I wanted was to encourage Pringle’s thieving ways.

“I’m coming back for it,” I told him with a stern look before making my way back down the ladder. I’d have to find someplace to hide it from the both of them. Yes, stealing was wrong, but animal cruelty was far, far worse.

Let’s just hope I had a bit of time before she realized it was missing.

4

I deposited Paisley in the second-floor bedroom she and Nan share, then closed the door so that Octo-Cat wouldn’t come in and bother her. “Try to get some rest. I’ll be back in a little while to check on you, and Nan will be home before you know it too.”

“Mommy, can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” the little dog begged, and I didn’t have the heart to say no.

I waited as she arranged herself on the pillow with the silk case that Nan kept on the bed especially for her doggie soulmate. Once she was cuddled into a tight little ball, I began to slowly stroke her fur, waiting for her breaths to come more slowly as sleep took her.

Soon I’d be getting married to Charles, and that simple act would change all our lives. Even though Paisley and I shared a close bond, she was actually Nan’s dog, and she would be leaving with her when she moved out. My heart clenched as I realized just how much I would miss the little thing. Sure, we’d visit each other all the time, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Even after Paisley dozed off, I could have sat there loving on her all day. But no, I had a live trap to hide. With a soft sigh, I let myself out of the room as quietly as I could so as not to disturb Paisley, then headed back outside.

Octo-Cat followed along without comment, which in itself was odd. He only spoke when I put my hand on the first rung of the ladder that led up to the treehouse.

“What are you doing?” he demanded with a cool, uninterested voice.

“Taking care of business,” I mumbled as I focused on raising one hand over the other. The ladder wasn’t built with humans in mind, and I worried that if I wasn’t cautious enough, the whole thing might collapse on me.

Thankfully, I made it up without incident, grabbed the live trap and almost threw the darned thing down to the ground. Then my rational brain woke back up just in time to warn me that the noise might further attract the new neighbor’s ire—and reveal the theft. I couldn’t exactly blame the situation on the raccoon without sounding like a crazy person, so I did my best to climb down one-handed while holding tight to the cage with the other.

“Why was that up there?” my cat wanted to know when I’d finally made it to the ground. Of course he didn’t offer to help, but at least he didn’t criticize.

“Pringle stole it from the neighbor and then used it as a makeshift prison for Paisley,” I explained, upset all over again as I recalled the horrific scene.

Octo-Cat shook his head.“Someone should really make Davey Crockett memorabilia out of him.”

“That’s what I said,” I exclaimed, then realized I was really having a bad day if I was starting to sound like my cranky cat.

Octo-Cat exposed his claws and stretched into a complicated yoga pose.“Just say the word. As you know, cats are the most elite hunters in any biosphere.”

I chose not to point out that his elite cousins were all big cats, not house cats. I also didn’t say that I was almost positive Pringle would win in a fight—what with his superior intellect and opposable thumbs.

“No more fights,” I said instead as we rounded the house, side by side, just in time to see a white van with the county insignia pull into our driveway. Well, this couldn’t be good.

A uniformed officer stepped out of the car and waved at me.“Good morning!” he called brightly as the day around me dimmed further.

“Hi,” I called back, swallowing down a fresh lump of anxiety. I set the live trap down onto the grass and hurried my pace to meet him.

“What’s that for?” the officer asked, motioning toward the live trap.

I stopped in my tracks, just a few paces away from him.“That? Oh, there was a raccoon in my house this morning. I thought I might be able to catch him and take him back outside.”

“Is the wild animal still in your home, Miss?” He reached for the radio looped onto his belt, sending a cold bolt of fear straight through me.

“No, he’s gone now,” I insisted just as quickly as I could, then shrugged, attempting to appear casual. “This is just in case he comes back.”

The officer frowned and dropped his hand from the radio.“Well, regardless of that situation. We received a complaint at animal control, and I was sent out to investigate.”

“Yes, I was at the new neighbor’s house when she called your office. I was trying to welcome her to the neighborhood. Lot of good that did.” I laughed bitterly despite myself.

“Judging from the call we received, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” He shook his head and fixed his eyes on the driveway. “That new neighbor is quite the ornery sort. I’d steer clear if I were you.”

“Duly noted. Anyway, how can I help you, officer?”

His eyes floated up to meet mine and a sad smile filled his face.“Listen, I’m an animal lover too, and I know how hard it is when you’re in close quarters with someone who despises your pets. But the woman who called us was hysterical. It’s our job to follow due diligence in cases like this.”

I nodded along the whole time he was speaking, eager to send him on his way.“I understand. What do you need from me?”

“I’m going to need to check the tags and licenses for all your animals.”

I tipped my head toward Octo-Cat who sat silently watching the full exchange.“I don’t have that for my cat, but I can show you vet records if that helps.”

He eyed Octo-Cat for a moment before saying,“We really just need the paperwork for your two dogs.”

“Who is this clown?” Octo-Cat meowed and lifted his leg over his head to groom his kitty bits. “Should I claw him up for you?”

“No,” I shouted, eliciting a strange look from the animal control officer. “I mean, no, that’s not right. I only have one dog. Actually it’s my grandmother’s. She lives with me too. Um, do you need to see her paperwork also?”

My attempt at a joke was completely rebuffed.

Now the previously sympathetic officer wore a scowl as he regarded me.“The caller was quite insistent that there were two.”

“You can come look inside if it helps, but I only have one dog.” I needed to try harder to play nice. It wasn’t this guy’s fault that my new neighbor was certifiable.

“Is this the striped one, or the large black…” He paused to check his notes. “Hellhound?”

I smiled despite myself.“Tell you what, I’ll go get her along with the paperwork and you can see for yourself.”

When I returned with Paisley, the officer had a good long laugh.“Huge? She couldn’t be more than five pounds soaking wet.” He continued to laugh as he examined the Chihuahua’s tags and looked over her paperwork.

“Everything’s in order here, so I’ll let you off with a warning today,” he declared at last.

I let out a huge sigh of relief before realizing the news hadn’t all been good. “A warning for what?”

“Your neighbor asked us to file trespassing charges,” the officer revealed, then pressed his lips into a firm line.

“Are you serious? I just went over there to welcome her and offer some baked goods!”

“Not against you.” He nodded toward Paisley in my arms. “Her.Technically, the charge would be dog at large.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” I argued, ready to march right over there and give that old crow a piece of my mind.

He sucked air in through his teeth, then shook his head again.“Technically your neighbor is in the right. Your dog shouldn’t be on her property.”

“Oh, okay.” I looked down at the squirming pup in my arms while I spoke. “We’re just so used to that property being empty, but okay, I’ll make sure Paisley doesn’t venture back over onto her side of the woods from now on out.”

“It’s for the best.” The officer reached forward to scratch Paisley between the ears. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. Hopefully your new neighbor will cool down once she’s settled in, but somehow I doubt it. Maybe consider a fence or a dog run?”

The whole thing was absurd. I hadn’t had any luck, but maybe Nan could talk some sense into the woman next door. Surely this little squabble was something we could work out ourselves, right?

5

As it turns out, the squabble with the new neighbor next door was not, in fact, something we could settle ourselves.

That morning, Nan came back walking on clouds after touring the tulip festival with her beloved. When I told her about the contentious run-in with both the neighbor and with the animal control officer, she fired up her little red sports car and drove straight out to Misty Harbor to pick up some of our favorite lobster rolls from Little Dog Diner.

“The poor dear must be exhausted from her big move,” she reasoned as she held up the white paper bag filled with delicious fare. “I bet she’s famished too. I’m sure it’s nothing a little neighborly kindness can’t fix.”

I tried to warn her off what I considered to be a doomed plan, but she wouldn’t have it.

Nan told me to be more compassionate, leashed up Paisley, then disappeared next door while Octo-Cat and I sat together at the dining room table and got to work on our lobster rolls.

I was just licking my fingers clean when Nan returned holding up a banged-up, crumpled-up bag covered in dirty smudges.

“In all my life…” she huffed, slamming the bag into the kitchen trash. “I’ve never met such a bitter, such a detestable, evil old witch.”

Paisley followed close behind with her tail tucked between her legs and body cowering low to the ground.

“That bad, huh?” I asked sympathetically.

“Worse,” Nan said with a giant pout on her wrinkled face.

I resisted the urge to say“told you so,” and that was that.

I did make a mental note to check the yellow pages for some local fencing contractors and to set up a quote or two. Other than that, there wasn’t much I or anyone else could do, other than hope and pray the neighbor—whose name we still didn’t even know—would see herself out of the neighborhood.

And that she’d do so sooner rather than later.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Nothing more happened for the rest of that day, which would later prove to be a rare and welcome break.

Because the very next morning, we received a second visit from animal control. This time a different officer stopped by with photos in hand as irrefutable proof that Paisley had crossed the invisible boundary that divided our two properties by at least three full inches.

Said boundary ran through the forest and was completely ensconced by trees. I didn’t even know where our yard ended and the neighbor’s began, butshedid apparently. She’d even set up trail cameras to capture any movement along the border. I argued that my right to privacy had been violated, but apparently I was once again on the wrong side of the law with that one.

I tried to put it out of my mind, but the rest of that day was spoiled same as the one before.

The next day I didn’t get any unwanted visitors, but I did receive a letter in the mail explaining that my refusal to keep track of my dog had led to a deer being scared off her property. I, for one, couldn’t understand how this person could hate dogs so much while being seemingly desperate to make friends with the deer.

The note was handwritten but signed with only her address in lieu of a name. Even more off-putting was the fact that the envelope sported a stamp and postmark, meaning the bitter old woman had sent it through the post office rather than simply walking it over—or heaven forbid, trying to talk with us.

After that little surprise delivery, I drove straight to the pet store and invested in a hefty supply of pee pads. Paisley would just have to do her business inside until we managed to get that fence up. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best option we had available to us, all things considered.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Animal control came out for their third visit a couple days after I received the letter in the mail. This time they shared pictures of Octo-Cat helping himself to the bathroom on the neighbor’s porch.

When I confronted him about it, my cat grinned wide, obviously pleased with himself.“Someone had to give that woman her due. She peed you off, so I peed on her porch. Justice.”

Part of me was touched that the cat had decided to defend my honor, but a much larger part was upset he had created even more problems for us.

We sealed up the pet door then, because even with a fence, Octo-Cat could easily slip over or under to gain access next door. I’d already learned the hard way—and many times over at that—if I gave the tabby a direct order, he would go out of his way to do the opposite.

I prayed the fence contractors would be able to squeeze us in soon, but so far I was getting nowhere with any of the companies I’d contacted. They all claimed to have huge waiting lists now that the weather was warm. And somehow I doubted this was a job Nan and I could pull off on our own. Not with such a large property and not with such intensive labor required to get the job done right. Maybe Charles could find the timeto help once he finished his current case. Whatever the matter, I was quickly becoming quite desperate.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Poor Paisley became notably depressed at having to spend her days indoors. Octo-Cat preferred being inside as a general rule, but the moment it stopped being his choice, he took to complaining loudly and doing so ceaselessly throughout the day. My home no longer felt like mine, thanks to the ridiculous expectations of our new neighbor.

“At least you’ll be moving away in a month. Everything will be back the way you like it in your new house,” I told Paisley to try to cheer her up. Of course that only reminded her that we would be splitting households after the wedding and sent her into an even greater state of despair.

My heart broke for the little dog, but honestly I didn’t know what else I could do to help her. Especially since each time we’d encountered animal control, they reminded me that the new neighbor was technically within her rights, just that most people never minded about these things. I did receive a fine for Octo-Cat’s little act of defiance, although I still don’t understand what exactly I’d been charged with.

Like anyone could control the comings and goings of a cat!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

After a full two days without incident, we received a visit from the police. A noise complaint that seemed to stem from Pringle watching television at too great a volume. I’d forgotten my threat to remove it from his treehouse after all the drama with the neighbor that took over the week. We were told to turn it down and be more mindful in the future. The thing is I couldn’t hear his TV from our house, so how on earth had the neighbor heard it from hers?

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Animal control came again the day after that. This time they were in search of the second dog the neighbor swore was patrolling her yard and upsetting her trash cans. Seriously, that woman really needed to have her eyes checked.

I helpfully let the officers investigate the entire house to prove we weren’t hiding a secret second dog and gently suggested that maybe they charge the neighbor with something for wasting so much of their time.

Honestly, the more we tried, the worse it got. Not even my sweet, lovable grandmother could charm her way into that woman’s good graces.

Nan, of course, became absolutely incensed after this exchange and even went so far as to hire her Realtor friend to see if, for the right price, we might buy the house next door right out from under the neighbor.“I can sell my old home and move in next door. Then we’ll be as close as close can be and also rid of the world’s biggest nuisance.”

But the transaction was a no go, and the next day we received another postmarked letter:

I know it was you.

Signed,

House #304

6

Over the course of the next week, we received visits from animal control and the police more days than not. At this point, I had half a mind to go pee on that cantankerous old woman’s porch myself. If I was getting repeatedly punished for things I hadn’t even done, I might as well actually get reprimanded for something I had.

It was fun to think about, but not something I’d ever do in real life. In fact, I didn’t really do anything at all. Other than complain ad nauseum to Charles, effectively ruining what was supposed to a romantic evening.

I’d also asked my lawyer fianc? if I could reasonably sue her for harassment or emotional pain and suffering or literally anything that might stick and get her to leave us alone.

Charles said he would research precedents but that it probably wouldn’t be worth the time and expense it would take to fight her in the courts. He also promised to help with our fencing project if I couldn’t find a contractor by that weekend.

This, of course, was provided I survived until then, which at this point seemed like a pretty big expectation of myself.

I returned from my date that night both exhausted and angry with myself for letting this new rival take up residence beneath my skin. My agitation skyrocketed when I noted police lights flashing outside the neighbor’s house.

Ugh.What could it possibly be now? I guessed I’d find out soon enough whenever the police came over to discuss the issue with me.

This neighbor was driving me out of my mind, and frankly I’d had quite enough. Perhaps that’s why I was raring and ready to go when I spotted those police lights next-door.

Rather than wait for the officers to make their way over to my house, I was going to go over and find out what was going on for myself. And instead of traipsing through the woods, I decided to track back down my driveway and then march right up hers.

I wasn’t usually a combative person, but the lady had never even given me a chance. Nan liked to say you caught more flies with honey than vinegar, but at this point, vinegar was the only thing I hadn’t tried. Watching my morose animals laze about the house this past week with no reprieve in sight had filled me past overflowing with both spit and vinegar aplenty. I had to do something to defend my household and get our lives back on track. Otherwise, what kind of a pet owner would I be?

As I stormed up the driveway, I noticed that multiple cars had arrived on the scene along with a red-and-white ambulance, meaning whatever complaint the old witch had cooked up this time was a real doozy.

Thankfully, I spotted my old friend Officer Bouchard among the crowd. He’d saved my life when we first met. Maybe today he could save my sanity.

I waved and shouted a greeting, pushing myself into a jog to close the space between us. Strangely, I didn’t spy my neighbor, even though she was typically right in the thick of whatever was happening.

“Listen,” I told Bouchard, unable to hide my scowl. “Whatever complaint that horrible woman has cobbled together this time, I assure you it’s completely off-base. She’s done nothing but make my life miserable since she moved in, and she—”

Officer Bouchard placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, silencing me.“She’s dead,” he revealed with a soft wince.

I balked at this, unable to believe it.“Dead?” How could she be dead? Surely this was just another of her tricks. At this point I wouldn’t put it past her to fake her death and then frame me for it.

“As a doornail,” my friend in blue confirmed. “C’mon.” He motioned for me to follow him around the house to where a little shed stood out back. The entire area was sectioned off with bright yellow crime scene tape.

Hmm. If this was a ruse, it was a mighty elaborate one.

“We still need to get an official report from the coroner, but we’re reasonably sure this was an accidental death,” he said, then pointed straight ahead. “Look.”

I ventured closer to the shed and found my neighbor lying on the ground with her feet pointing straight up and a giant burlap bag covering her face and chest. Whatever was in that bag, it sure looked heavy.

“What happened?” I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away.

“Looks like this bag of deer feed fell off the top shelf when she wasn’t expecting it, hit her clear on the head, and knocked her out.” He pointed to the sharp metal frame of the shelf opposite. “She caught the edge there on her way down, sustaining a major head wound, then bled out before help could arrive.”

Sure enough, a sticky puddle had flooded the small shed, staining the wooden floorboards red. The nauseating tang of iron filled the air, making me feel like I was going to be sick. If I had been home, would I have heard the crash? Would I have come to check in on her? No, I realized with bleak certainty, I wouldn’t have even bothered to think twice.

I stepped back and turned away from the grisly scene, clutching a hand to my chest. Officer Bouchard followed me and offered his condolences, even though my words upon arriving at the scene should have made it clear I’d never been a fan of the old lady who lived next door.

“May I ask you a question?” I said, once I managed to get the bile in my stomach to stop churning. When he nodded his assent, I continued, “What was her name? I never knew it.” Somehow it seemed important that I know now.

He checked his notes and let out a chuff.“Looks like this was a Ms. Miller. Ms. Angela Miller.”

We had the same name? How was that possible?

It’s not as if Angie was an overly unique moniker, but still, the revelation that my sworn enemy had shared my name hit me in an odd way. Somehow, despite all the strife she’d caused me in the last two weeks, this simple revelation humanized her. And suddenly I felt very sad.

What had happened to make this Angela’s life so terrible? To make it easier for her to mail a letter next door than to simply stop by and talk? She must have been miserable and lonely—very, very lonely.

I don’t know what I could have done differently, other than to be more patient, to give her a bit of time to open up to us. Maybe. I mean, if such a thing were even possible.

“Was it a quick death?” I asked, raising my hand to chew on a hangnail that had been bothering me all day.

“Probably not, I’m afraid, but it does appear she was unconscious, so probably not too aware of the pain.”

“Oh.” I glanced back into the shed at the unlucky corpse, the heavy bag on top of her, and the pooled blood beneath her. Farther back, the shed was lined with a smattering of gardening tools, bags of fertilizer, and several more burlap sacks like the one that had knocked old Angela unconscious but much smaller. Why had she been reaching for the largest one when there were others she could have grabbed instead? Such a simple decision—choosing the big bag instead of the little one—had ended her life.

I couldn’t even be happy that my problems were now over, not when it had cost someone their life. I was just about to thank the officer and head home to share the news with Nan and the pets when a terrible thrashing sound tore through the air followed by a panicked braying of some kind.

Officer Bouchard grabbed his gun and pointed it in the general direction of the sound, motioning for me to get behind him until he’d cleared whatever threat lay in wait.

But instead I dodged his attempts to shelter me and ran straight for the forest…

7

I chased an odd pair of yellow streamers as they trailed deep into the woods. The police and paramedics stayed back, but they didn’t know what was going on—I did.

“Wait,” I called as I stepped carefully over a fallen branch but still snagged my foot anyhow. “Let me help you!”

But I couldn’t keep up, and soon the object of my pursuit disappeared from view, taking the dancing yellow ribbons with him.

“What was that?” Officer Bouchard asked when I returned to the small crowd in my now-deceased neighbor’s backyard. “And why in God’s name would you run toward it?”

I leaned down and put a hand on each of my knees, woefully out of breath after the short burst of exercise. Nan would have my head if she knew how much I’d let myself go after we stopped our morning jogs.

“A big buck,” I wheezed. “He wandered too close and got the crime scene tape tangled up in his antlers. The poor thing was scared out of his mind.”

Bouchard tsked and shook his head.“A frightened animal is a dangerous one, which means you could have gotten yourself seriously injured back there. Think your nan would ever let me live it down if something happened to you on my watch?”

I rose to my full height and sighed.“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Apologizing was easier than explaining why I knew I’d be safe. Nan may have enjoyed blabbing about my secret abilities to all who would hear, but I preferred to keep mum.

Officer Bouchard gave me a friendly nudge on the shoulder.“Nothing bad came of it, but take a little better care with yourself, would you? We only have one Angie Russo in this town, and I’d kind of like to keep her.”

I liked the officer, but I’d already seen more than I was comfortable seeing here. I’d happened upon more than one corpse in my day, but somehow Ms. Miller’s irked me more than all the others combined. Maybe it’s because we shared a name. Or maybe it was because of how I hated her, how I couldn’t shake that this was somehow my fault.

Whatever the case, I just wanted to get home.

“I suppose I’ll let you get back to it,” I said with a tight smile, unable to summon an authentic one. “Please let me know if there’s anything Nan or I can do to help with the investigation.”

The policeman stretched both hands over his head and yawned.“There’s no investigation. Seems like a pretty open and shut accidental death. Just as soon as we finish following procedure, we’ll be ready to turn things over to the next of kin. Provided we can find some.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say to that. The whole thing was just very sad and unfortunate. “Well, good luck.”

I hung my head and walked away, wondering if I’d somehow inadvertently contributed to the other Angie’s untimely demise. I’d sure sent a lot of angry thoughts her way this past week. Maybe even wished she’d just disappear once and for all. But I never would have seriously wanted another human being to die just because she irritated me.Okay, maybe she did more than simply irritate me, but still… Of course, I knew it didn’t help anyone now, me feeling sorry for myself, but I just couldn’t help it.

I kept my gaze lowered to the ground as I traced my way back around the house, ready to head home, toss on my favorite PJs, and share the news with the others. If I’d been walking normally, I probably wouldn’t have spotted the dusty tracks that led up to the basement egress window. I stopped abruptly, facing directly in toward the house. Maybe the old woman had locked herself out at some point and was looking for another way in, but somehow I doubted that. For starters, these tracks were enormous—far bigger than my own feet and definitely larger than the dainty ones I’d seen peeking out from the shed in the backyard. Someone—a man probably—had been spying on the neighbor. But why?

It couldn’t have been the movers she’d mistreated. The rain we got a few days back would have already washed their prints away. No, whoever these belonged to had been here recently.

Animal control certainly came around frequently, but they had no reason to go peeping in her windows. Hmmm.

For a moment I wondered whether I should go share my findings with Officer Bouchard, but he had already told me Ms. Miller’s death was an accident. Still, doubts continued to nag at me. If the new neighbor made enemies of me and Nan so quickly, how many other enemies might she have accrued over the years? Judging by the way she’d treated the moving company she hired, I’d guess that not many people had positive run-ins with the old woman, which made the string of suspects impossibly long.

I didn’t even know where to begin. I knew nothing of Angela Miller’s life before she moved to town and really knew nothing about it since. She’d only lived next door for two weeks, which meant if I were going to investigate, I’d be flying more or less blind.

No, I needed to tell the police what I’d noticed about the bootprints. They at least had a few more channels available to them, channels that weren’t always open to novice investigators like myself.

Already past the point of mental exhaustion, I returned to the backyard and found Officer Bouchard chatting with one of the paramedics gathered at the scene.

“Forget something?” he asked with a knowing glint in his eyes. He’d known me long enough to guess that the wheels in my head were now spinning wildly out of control.

A slight breeze blew past, sending a shiver straight through me. I wrapped my arms around my torso and said,“I found something odd. I was wondering if you could check it out.”

He murmured something to the woman beside him, then followed me around the house.

“See.” I pointed at the boot prints in front of the egress window. Now that he knew everything I did, I could take myself off the case. Ms. Miller had hated me. She wouldn’t want me investigating her death anyway.

“What are we looking at here, Angie?” Officer Bouchard squinted, then squatted down to get a closer look.

“Bootprints facing in toward the window. Someone was either trying to look inside or trying to get inside.” My eyes went wide as I voiced this revelation aloud.

But he seemed neither curious nor bothered. He simply shook his head and said,“Mmm. I don’t think so.”

Odd. Why was he so quick to dismiss my concerns? I knew Officer Bouchard well enough not to suspect foul play, but not even being willing to consider this new evidence? Definitely odd.

“What makes you so sure it’s not a clue? I mean, really stop and think about it. Maybe her death wasn’t really accidental after all.” I bit my lip, waiting to see what he would offer in response.

My friend raised one foot and showed me the sole of his shoe.“The pattern matches, see?”

I studied the mix of straight lines and swirls stomped onto the ground, then compared the marks on the bottom of the officer’s shoe. Sure enough, it was a match. Except for one small detail.

“But yours is much smaller than that pair,” I pointed out, hoping it wouldn’t offend him. Men were sometimes funny like that.

“They might not be mine exactly. But they could have been left by any of our team here. We all wear the same kind.” He set his foot back down and furrowed his brow. “I’m afraid you’re looking for smoke where there isn’t any fire, Angie. I know it’s scary, but I can assure you, what happened to your neighbor was nothing more than good old-fashioned bad luck.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” I wrapped my arms around my torso again, needing that small bit of comfort. Whether or not Officer Bouchard agreed with me, something felt very wrong here.

He just shook his head and offered me a kindly smile.“I happen to be surer than sure. Nobody uses a bag of feed as a murder weapon. Can you imagine?”

Unfortunately, yes, I could.

8

“Date night go that poorly?” Nan asked me when I appeared in the foyer after a sluggish walk home. “Don’t tell me the wedding’s off!”

“Everything’s fine with me and Charles,” I mumbled, sloughing off my shoes and leaning back against the door with a heavy sigh. “With the neighbor, not so much.”

Nan was at my side in an instant.“Oh, what did that evil witch do now? I have half a mind to go over there and slap her silly. It’s just our—”

“Nan,” I interrupted, then took a deep stuttering breath before revealing the harsh truth. “She’s dead.”

A strangled noise escaped Nan’s throat, telling me she now felt quite similar to how I had at receiving the news.

Octo-Cat came trotting gaily down the stairs, his tail held high with a jaunty twist.“Well, that’s one less problem in our lives. Will you break out the catnip or shall I?”

I turned on him so fast, I almost lost my footing and had to reach out for the banister to steady myself.“Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, soon-to-be Longfellow too, how dare you talk like that? A woman is dead!”

He plopped down on the bottom stair and regarded me stonily.“One, I am not taking UpChuck’s name. Try that again, and I will be removing the Russo from my formal title as well.” He paused so long, I almost spoke again, but I also knew better than to interrupt a cat mid-list.

“Two, that hag made our life miserable,” he continued after nearly a full minute stretched in silence. “You and Nan can act all lovey-dovey if you want, but I know the truth. You hated her, and you’re glad she’s gone.”

“That’s it!” He had me in a proper rage now. I was so angry that I was shaking. How could he act so cavalier? This was beyond the pale even for him. “Go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”

Octo-Cat hung his head and laughed mirthlessly.“My house, my rules. Or have you forgotten that all of this is mine?” Another long pause punctuated this rhetorical. “I get that you’re having some trouble processing this all right now, but there’s no reason to take it out on me. Now if you’ll please, I need my Evian topped off.”

“I take it he just said something nasty,” Nan mused from her place beside me. Sometimes I really envied her for not being able to hear the cat’s constant stream of commentary on our lives.

I scoffed, continuing to stare daggers at the bad kitty before me.“When does he ever say anything else?”

He shifted his weight from side to side, looking bored with the whole thing.“You humans are weakened by your sense of moral purpose sometimes. A cat, being the superior intellectual creature he is, can see the world for exactly what it is. Humans always like to complain that life isn’t fair, but it seems to me that justice was served. The lady next door simply got whatwas coming for her. Got it? Now don’t at me.” Having said his piece, he lifted his tail up high and sauntered away while I watched in silence.

“I told you to stay off Twitter!” I yelled after him. It was definitely not to my benefit that I’d taught Octo-Cat how to download apps on his iPad. I doubt he was able to type out his own tweets, but it was bad enough he’d begun adopting the lingo. If he and Pringle ever put their heads together—and realized the cat had the tech while the raccoon had the agile fingers—they could cause some real damage on the interweb.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t my most pressing problem at the moment. “The police said it was an accident,” I told Nan, speaking hardly above a whisper lest Octo-Cat overhear and add more of his garish commentary.

Nan raised an eyebrow at me.“But you’re not so sure.”

“You know me too well,” I said with a sigh when usually these words would be accompanied by a laugh.

“I found large footprints in front of the basement window. Someone was looking in. Possibly planning a breakin.”

“Do you think that maybe—?”

“Angela,” my cat yowled, interrupting quite rudely. “Evian! A cat could die waiting, and we both know I’m already light on my remaining lives. I’d hate to lose one of the precious few I have left to dehydration.”

I groaned and threw up my hands.“Be right back. His royal pain in the butt needs me.”

“I heard that!” he mewled in protest.

“Good!” Sometimes it really felt as if I was the mother of the world’s most unruly teenager. At least when Charles and I had children one day, I’d be ready for their worst.

I stomped into the kitchen. Octo-Cat waited in cold silence as I hand-washed his favorite china teacup, fetched a fresh bottle of Evian from the pantry, and poured. Next time he’d be getting toilet water, the little scoundrel.

When I left the kitchen, I rejoined Nan, who had moved to the living room and was now sitting with a sniffling Paisley on top of her lap.

“I take it you overheard what happened to the new neighbor?” I asked the little dog with a curious glance.

She looked up at me with huge, glistening eyes.“Is she dead because of me?”

“No!” I answered emphatically. “Absolutely not.”

Paisley shook and whimpered.“Maybe she got scared to death when she saw me.”

“She got knocked out by a huge bag of feed, hit her head, and then bled to death,” I stated bluntly. We all liked to pretend that Paisley wasn’t a teeny-tiny thing, mostly because she saw herself as a big, scary dog—the way all chihuahuas do. But I couldn’t let her go so far as to blame herself for something that had absolutely nothing to do with her.

“Ouch. That doesn’t sound very nice,” Nan interjected. I’d shared the cause of death for Paisley’s benefit, but this was her first time hearing it too.

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” I shrugged, needing to be strong for the two of them even though inside I was still reeling.

“Mommy, what’s hell?” the pup asked in that sweet, singsong voice of hers.

Of course, Octo-Cat chose this precise moment to make his grand re-entrance on the scene.“It’s where that old—”

“Octo-Cat, shush!” I yelled before he could complete that thought aloud. Narrowing in on the frightened dog, I murmured softly, “Why are you asking about hell, Paisley?”

“The lady. She called me a hellhound. I know what hound means, but not hell. So what is it, Mommy?”

“Oh, dear.” Nan scratched Paisley’s head while wearing a worried expression. “I didn’t want to bother the animals with religion, but if they can talk, I guess they can also understand. Was this an oversight on my part? Is it time we took Octo-Cat and Paisley to church?”

“Touch me, and you’re dead,” Octo-Cat growled before running off.

“Mommy?” Paisley asked pointedly again. “Are you going to tell me about hell?”

Honestly I didn’t know which of my companions to address first. We had a possible murder on our hands, and the shock of it had worn on us all. Now hardly seemed like the proper time to ponder such existential questions as they pertained to our house pets.

I moved to sit beside Nan on the loveseat and placed one hand on her shoulder while using the other to scratch Paisley’s head. “We’ll talk about this some other time, okay?” I told them both, hoping that would be enough for now. I already worried about the state of my cat’s soul after the remarks he’d made, and I just didn’t have the energy to follow this particular train all the way to the station.

Not now. Probably not ever.

I hardly had the energy to consider what happened to old Ms. Miller, but maybe after a good night’s rest I’d be able to see things a bit more clearly.

9

My sleep came long and troubled that night. I was surprised when I awoke late in the morning the following day; normally the animals rousted me from my sleep hours earlier.

I tiptoed downstairs, finding only a quiet house to greet me. Nan and Paisley must have gone out somewhere, but where was my cat?

Feeling some minor hesitation, I unlocked the pet door. There was no sense in keeping the animals cooped up inside now that Ms. Miller was no longer around to issue complaints for every minor perceived infraction. Still, it felt weird, moving on so quickly. For the last two weeks, the neighbor’s complaints had dictated so much of our lives, and now they just didn’t matter anymore.

“Octavius?” I called into the seemingly empty lower level of our home.

When I was met only with silence, I moved to the kitchen to see what Nan had left for my breakfast.

There I found a note tucked under the edge of a blue ceramic plate—and on top of that plate, three fresh-baked vanilla bean scones. I grabbed a pasty hungrily, sweeping my eyes over the note as I chewed.

Flash mob in the park. Took Paisley.

Ah, that was right. Nan had started taking hip-hop dance lessons a few months back and had been over the moon when their class was invited to participate in a sneak dance number. It didn’t exactly seem like Paisley’s type of thing, but I imagined she’d be standing on the sidelines with Grant as they both lovingly watched Nan twerk and grind.

I glanced down at my baggy T-shirt and shorts with a snort. My grandmother was so much cooler than me. That probably should have bothered me, but it didn’t. Not when I had so much else on my mind.

I still hadn’t found my cat, so I decided to mount a search. I grabbed a bag of treats from the pantry and made the crinkling noise he adored, hoping it would draw him to me as I made my way through the house.

He wasn’t downstairs, nor was he in my bedroom or even curled up in his own. I finally found him in the office, tucked away under the desk where a dark shadow kept him mostly hidden from view.

“Those for me?” he mumbled and crept toward me on four shaky feet to demand sustenance.

I shook three out of the bag and placed them flat on the palm of my hand.“What are you doing in here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he snuffled despite the fact he was still chewing—and the fact that he’d given me guff for doing the very same thing just last week. He must have been really out of it to do such a thing.

“Nightmares?” I offered with a supportive frown.

He shook his head.

“Regret?” I tried. My frown deepened as I recalled our conversation last night.

Octo-Cat stopped munching and met me with odd eyes.“Why would I ever feel regret? I’m a cat, remember?”

“Yes, I know you’re a cat, but you were also kind of a brat when you heard the news about that poor woman next door.”

He laughed bitterly, then began to choke, then coughed up a bit of food, then continued,“A brat? How dare you call me such a detestable name? And how dare you for even one second accuse me of being fallible? Besides, are you sure the old woman is even dead?”

“Of course I’m sure. I saw the body.” How could he even be questioning this? We’d both seen enough bodies in our day to recognize the strange waxiness of a dead person versus a living one.

“Not dead, pah. Then how do you explain the lights that were flashing over there late last night making it nigh impossible for me to catch any shut-eye?”

This caught me off guard.“Lights? It must have been the police.”

Octo-Cat snarled but knew better than to take a swipe at me while I was feeding him.“Do you think I’m a moron? I know what police lights look like, and these weren’t them. They were much smaller… More treats.”

“What do you say?” Sometimes I wished I could snarl, but the best I could settle for in response to his lack of decorum was a frustrated groan.

“Now.” His tail flicked and swished.

I groaned again and shook more of the tiny meat bites into my hand for him to nosh on.“You’re welcome,” I added pointedly.

A low growl rumbled in his throat.“Torches, I think they’re called,” my cat then offered before digging back in.

I blinked back my surprise, immediately picturing an angry mob wielding pitchforks and torches. But that didn’t make any sense, unless…

“Hey, Octo-Cat. What have you been watching on TV lately?” I asked, knowing how impressionable and how theatric he could be. His viewing habits could very well tell me all I needed to decode his slang now.

His ears perked up at this.“Why, Angela, I’m so glad you asked. Usually you don’t show interest in my viewing habits, considering my taste is so much more highbrow than your preferred media consumption.”

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t have it in me to argue with him now, not when he seemed to have some information that I needed.

Octo-Cat straightened and met me with large, glowing eyes.“Lately I’ve found myself rather engrossed with this cheeky little drama set in London. The premise is—”

“Got it. You’ve gone BBC on me.”

“Yes, but what’s that got to—”

“You spend time on Twitter, you pick up that lingo. You spend time in front of BBC, you adopt Britishisms into your everyday speech. It makes perfect sense now.”

He narrowed his eyes, giving his fuzzy countenance a sinister effect.“The Queen’s English is the correct English.”

I shook my finger at him.“Don’t even get me started on that whole argument, or the fact that you’ve never once stepped paw outside of the US. My point is you’re saying torches, but you mean flashlights.”

“Beg pardon?” Now that it had been pointed out, he was really playing up this whole British angle—God help me.

“Wait there,” I instructed, sprinkling a few more treats out onto the ground to assure he would do just that.

I grabbed the flashlight we kept in the hall closet in case of emergencies, then clicked it on before returning to my erstwhile feline companion.“Is this what you saw?” I asked, sweeping the tiny spotlight around the room.

“Yes, that’s a torch, Angela. Brilliant. Very nicely done.” He rolled his eyes in derision. The smarmy part of me wanted to offer him a spot of tea and ask after his mum, but I had more important things to focus on than my cat’s penchant for theatrics.

“What time did you see the lights? Are you sure they were coming from next door?” I pressed.

“Very late. Or rather, quite early. Maybe two, three o’clock. And they definitely started next door, but then they moved to the woods.”

“Did they ever come to our yard?” I asked, a fresh jolt of fear striking me dead in the heart. The neighbor and I shared a name. What if whoever was out there had meant to come for me, but somehow got their wires crossed? And what if they were still coming?

A woman was dead, and still the vultures were out there picking at the crime scene. Who were they, and what could they possibly want?’

Octo-Cat finished devouring his treats, then began to groom himself as he liked to do post-meal. He paused thoughtfully after several strokes of his tongue across his tail.“I must say, my dear Angela, it seems that something odd is afoot.”

“Why yes, Octo-Cat. I couldn’t have said it better myself.” I smiled at this. While he was being rather annoying today, at least I had his interest. That meant he would help me, despite his lack of sleep the night before. And as they say, two heads are better than one, even when one of those heads is adorned with whiskers.

10

After opening a fresh can of Octo-Cat’s preferred cat pate and pouring him a teacup of Evian, I spent the next ten minutes waiting while he took his time with breakfast. In the meantime, I polished off all three scones and made a mental note to have my wedding dress refitted just in case all this stress eating was having an effect on my waistline.

Upon finishing his meal, Octo-Cat then had to tend to his morning ministrations. The small amount of grooming he’d managed while we talked in the office was nowhere near enough to satisfy his habitual self-care.

As he tended to his hygiene, I composed a lengthy text to Charles to catch him up on everything that had gone down since I saw him for our date last night. The poor guy had been working overtime—and then some—to ensure he’d be able to take a full two weeks off for our honeymoon. I hated to bother him with my problems, but I also knew I’d never hear the end of it if I failed to inform him of something so major going on in my life.

I explained the situation as succinctly as I could, finished my message, and hit send.

Less than a minute later, I received notification of his reply. Just enough of it popped up on screen to tell me I shouldn’t open it to read the full thing—at least not yet.

Whatever you do, don’t disturb the scene to—

Yeah, nope. If I opened that, he’d know I saw his message and then consciously chose to ignore it. Charles knew me well enough by now to know exactly what I planned to do, which is why he was trying to warn me off it.

Maybe if I called the police with this new intel, they’d head over to investigate, but that wasn’t a chance I could afford to take. Not when they’d dismissed my concerns about the shoeprints so quickly yesterday.

Besides, I just had a hunch that Ms. Miller’s death wasn’t as open and shut as it seemed. Something strange was going on over there, and I intended to figure out what.

“Are you ready, Angela?” Octo-Cat asked after one last lap at his paw. Like Charles, my cat also knew exactly what I planned to do. That’s part of the reason we made such good partners—at least when we weren’t bickering and nitpicking each other.

I nodded.“Let’s go check it out.”

“Tut, tut. Cheerio.” This whole English act was quickly draining on me. I needed Octo-Cat to be wearing his detective hat, not one that belonged to a misguided thespian. Luckily, I knew just how I could shut this down while making it seem like the whole thing had been his idea.

“Cheerio, funny. You know, that reminds me of the time Pringle knighted himself and decided to vanquish forest monsters in the name of the queen. What was it he would say? Oh, right.” I put on my most horrible impression of an accent combined with my most horrible impersonation of Pringle to seal the deal. “Pip, pip, cheerio, my good lad.”

I glanced down to Octo-Cat and found his face filled with derision.

“Gag. Could we not talk about the trash panda?” he begged, reverting to his normal East Coast polish. “I’d rather die choking on a hairball, thank you very much.”

I smiled to myself as we exited the house side by side and trekked through the woods.

“So remind me again why we’re investigating?” the tabby asked as our feet crunched over fallen leaves that had been left to decay since last autumn. We couldn’t exactly rake up the entire forest.

“Because the neighbor is dead, and it might have been murder,” I reminded him, surprised he had forgotten our mission so quickly today.

“Right, but we hated her. Also aren’t you busy enough planning your wedding?” He stopped to sniff the base of an old tree, and I waited.

“Hate is such a strong word,” I reasoned.

He smirked.“But it’s the correct word, isn’t it?”

I groaned in acknowledgment, unable to address his pointed comment with actual words.“I am busy with the wedding, but I can’t just let a murder go unsolved.” The truth was I’d already finished the hardest part of planning my nuptials—figuring out the guest list and sending out formal invitations. As it turns out, I know a lot of people, making the rest of it far easier bycomparison.

“Why not? The police do it all the time,” he commented rudely, once again making me wonder how much time my cat spent browsing Twitter.

Just like I hadn’t wanted to talk religion with the pets, I also didn’t want to get into something so political. “Don’t talk like that. The police do their best, but not every case is solvable.” Debating Octo-Cat never went well, no matter what the topic. He didn’t consider facts valid unless they proved the point he already wanted to make.

He left the strange-smelling tree behind and began moving forward again, leading us both through the woods.“So what makes you think this one is? Solvable, I mean?”

I was getting nowhere by assuming my cat had something akin to a human conscience. At the end of the day, he was a coldly logical being who would always put himself first, no matter the circumstance. As a result of our years together, I’d learned that my cat had two tragic flaws—pride and curiosity. Right now he was tagging along because of the latter, but the moment he lost interest, I’d be left on my own again. Unless… I needed to find a way to channel his pride to make sure he saw this through to the end.

“I don’t know if this one is solvable,” I admitted with a practiced look of consternation. “But I do know we have a much better chance of solving it if we work together. You know I’m nothing without you, Octavius.”

He nodded along, completely unaware of how already I was playing him like a fiddle.“This is true. You need me, Angela. You’ve always needed me.”

“I do,” I agreed emphatically. “And what’s more, this crime happened right next door. What if the killer comes back and tries to break into our house next… tries to break into YOUR house?”

Octo-Cat reared back and thrashed his front paws in the air like a tiny, unskilled ninja.“Then he’ll have another thing coming when he meets the business end of these claws. Nobody comes into my house without my say so.”

Now I was the one nodding like a broken bobble head as I brought my final argument home.“I don’t know for sure a murder happened. That’s why I need you to come check it out and make sense of things for me. We need to protect our home, and I’m not confident I can do that without your help, Octavius.”

“Well, of course you need my help, dear Angela. Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”

I shrugged nonchalantly while inwardly beaming with confidence in a job well done. I’d played to my cat’s hubris so many times, it was no longer difficult for me to put my pride aside to bolster his own. He was the one who had seen the flashlights last night, and he was the one who could get in and out easily without being spotted or leaving any fingerprints behind. And as much as I liked to puzzle out the clues, Octo-Cat was the one with a truly obsessive mind. Once he gave headspace to a case, he didn’t stop until he found the answers he was looking for.

Maybe the new neighbor hadn’t been murdered, but I couldn’t risk the chance that she had been. Not when this had all gone down so close to home. The police had been quick to rule Angela Miller’s death an accident, but I still needed more proof.

11

Octo-Cat and I finished our trek through the woods and approached the neighbor’s large front porch. Potted plants flanked the steps on either side, and vibrant flowers dripped down from hanging baskets, creating a welcoming entrance so at odds with how the woman herself had treated visitors. It felt eerie to be in her space when she had so clearly not wanted us here.

“Okay, where do we begin?” I asked my feline companion as I took stock of the porch and yard. The police had already cleared out, which meant we were alone.

“You could go to the door. See if it’s unlocked,” Octo-Cat suggested in a snooty tone that seemed to imply I should have been able to think of that on my own.

I flexed my fingers demonstratively.“It would leave prints.”

Octo-Cat scoffed.“Since when do you care about that? You leave DNA evidence behind all the time.”

“Yes, but normally I don’t have a motive that could peg me for the murder.” I hadn’t really considered this until now, but suddenly it became a very real concern. My troubles with the neighbor were well documented. What was I doing trying to prove foul play when the police were happy to leave it alone?

“The police said it wasn’t murder,” Octo-Cat reminded me even though I was already thinking the exact same thing. It was probably time to admit that I had quite a bit in common with my cat. I was too curious to leave this alone, even though I probably should have. I was curious, but I could still be careful.

“They say that now, but what if they change their tune?” I shrugged. “I’d rather not incriminate myself, if I can help it.”

Octo-Cat jumped up on the porch railing and paced back and forth.“Fine. Then what do you want to do?”

I thought for a moment.“Let’s head around back. I’ll show you the shed where I saw the body.”

That was all I needed to say for him to leap down and take off running toward the back of the house far ahead of me, forcing me to do a light jog to catch up.

“It smells awful,” he said as soon as we made it to our target location.

“Well, there was a lot of blood.” I sniffed at the air but couldn’t pick up anything unusual beyond the acerbic taint of chemical cleaners hanging in the air.

“No, that’s not the smell. Blood, I don’t mind. I am a carnivore, you know. For me, blood is a bit like a delicious gravy.”

I cringed at the thought and briefly reconsidered becoming a vegetarian, as I so often had since gaining my strange gift.“Right, then what do you smell?”

Octo-Cat shuddered and shook out his fur.“No clue what it is. Only know I don’t like it.” Well, this was getting us nowhere fast.

“It’s not exactly helpful when you—”

“Angela, silence.” Octo-Cat lifted his head, ears alert and body rigid.

“What?” I paused and glanced around in a panic but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

But Octo-Cat remained tense and frozen.“Shhhh, there’s something out there,” he insisted.

I turned in the direction he was looking, back toward the forest. I couldn’t see or hear anything. “What is it? Is it something dangerous?” I whispered.

“Will you just keep quiet already?” my cat bellowed, forgetting his own call for silence.

At last, a strange, garbled noise rose from the edge of the forest, and a flash of yellow caught my eye.“I… I… I… I am being as qu-qu-quiet as I can!” an unfamiliar voice declared before its speaker had moved fully into view.

“It’s you!” I exclaimed, unable to hide my sudden burst of excitement. “You were here yesterday. You saw what happened to Ms. Miller.” I didn’t know for sure that he had, but something had spooked this buck, and I intended to find out what. I held out both hands to show I meant no harm and took one slow step forward.

“No!” he brayed and shook his head, whipping the yellow tape around in a blur. “Leave me alone!”

And just like that he ran off into the forest, the tangled crime scene ribbon twisting in the air behind him.

“Nice one, Sherlock,” Octo-Cat quipped, making me feel even worse about scaring off our witness. At least he was calling me Sherlock. Usually he referred to me as Watson, the lovable sidekick rather than the hero.

“Do you think he saw what happened?” I asked, chewing on my lip as I considered the same question.

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he’s the bad thing I smelled. Yuck.” He kicked back his hind legs in the same way he did after using the litter box.

“We need to get him to talk to us,” I said.

Octo-Cat shook his head, immediately dismissing my suggestion.“He’s prey, Angela. Chasing after him is only going to make him run farther away from you.”

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” Seriously, why did I even bother to put forth my own ideas when Octo-Cat was just going to boss me around anyway?

He sighed.“Well, I don’t see anything useful in this shed. My guess is the cops cleared it out as part of cleanup. Meanwhile you’re not willing to open the door to let us into the house, so I honestly don’t know where that leaves us.”

“Wait, I have an idea. Follow me.” I only turned to make sure he was following me as I turned the corner of the house. Thankfully, he’d fallen right in line, so I led him to the side of the house where I’d spotted the prints leading up to the basement egress window. The prints were no longer visible, but I wondered.

“Hop down there,” I ordered, pointing to the window well that sported a patch of gravel before the window. “See if the window is fully latched.”

“Oh sure, send the cat. Just because I’m faster, lighter, and smarter. Uh-huh, I see.” Octo-Cat complained but he did so with a smile, and when he’d finished saying his piece, he dutifully hopped down to investigate.

“There’s no screen,” he called back up, then began to paw at the edge of the glass. “It opens out rather than pushing in. I need you to try it.”

“No. Can’t leave prints,” I reminded him.

“Then we’re not getting inside. It’s as simple as that.”

“I’ll think of something,” I assured him. “Now come back up.”

He hopped out to join me, offering a withering glance my way.

“I’m hitting a dead end,” I admitted.

He rolled his eyes.“No, you hit a roadblock, and for some reason you refuse to move around it.”

Was I being too cautious when it came to leaving my fingerprints behind? I wasn’t up to any wrongdoing, and Officer Bouchard knew me well enough to already know about my amateur sleuthing. Plus I was about to be married to the best attorney in town. I probably wouldn’t get in much trouble—if any—but still, something about the situation gave me pause.

And as a P.I. it was important I listened to my hunches… And to rely on my partner for help.

“Can you think of anything else we might be missing?” I asked him.

He nodded as if deep in thought.“We only knew her for a couple of weeks, so think back to all of your encounters with her.”

“I only met her that first day. Every other time I communicated with her was via animal control or the police or the post office.”

“I never met her face-to-face, but I did enjoy peeing on her porch,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Wait.” We were close, I could feel it in my bones. “If she didn’t see you, how did she know?”

He cocked his head to the side and regarded me suspiciously.“Know what?”

“That you’d peed.” That’s when I remembered that the animal control officers had come bearing photographs more than once. I ran back toward the porch and began to search the rafters.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a singsong voice.

I turned to him briefly to explain.“Looking for a hidden camera.”

“It’s there,” he said, motioning with his nose.

“What? Where? And how do you know? You didn’t even know there was a camera.”

He crinkled his nose.“It’s got a weird shimmer to it. It just stands out like a sore thumb. Don’t you see it?”

I shook my head, then moved to the side and pointed.“Hot or cold?”

He plopped his butt down and wagged his tail wildly in response.“I don’t know what game you’re playing here, Angela, but I don’t like it.”

I growled and stamped my foot, growing very frustrated with this.“Am I close or far away?”

Finally he got it and was able to direct me to the camera. I grabbed it down, forgetting for a moment about my reluctance to leave prints.Shoot.

“We’ll take this back to the house, but I think she had more of these set up around the property. There were other pictures, taken from other angles.” I wished then that animal control had left the pictures with me so that I could use them to help figure out the camera placements, but no.

Octo-Cat grinned deviously.“You need me to go find them, don’t you?”

“I do, but first let’s get this one home and see what we can find.”

12

Back at home, I did a quick web search on the make and model of the trail cam we’d found on Ms. Miller’s porch. Once I understood how the thing was intended to work, I began taking it apart in search of evidence. Even though I followed the directions exactly, I couldn’t find the memory card that was meant to store the video feed.

“Am I overlooking it?” I asked Octo-Cat in frustration, but he didn’t find anything either.

A scrabbling at the window drew my eye across the room. Pringle stood waving with one hand and pointing at the door with the other. As much as I still hadn’t forgiven the raccoon for taking Paisley hostage last week, I did want to hear if he had any theories about what happened next door. His mind was always running at a million miles per minute. Usually that was to my detriment, but occasionally his penchant for overthinking could prove beneficial.

I set the camera down on the table, then moved toward the front door and carefully let myself out onto the porch, blocking the way so Pringle couldn’t squeeze past me into the house.

Octo-Cat followed through the pet flap. Even though he wasn’t a fan of Pringle, he was a fan of drama. He’d also become invested in this case.

“You got some new tech?” the raccoon said as soon as were standing on the porch with him, all the while rubbing his hands together as if he were washing them in a stream. “I wanna see.”

That was right. Our resident raccoon was obsessed with all forms of technology. Gossip too. Which made him the perfect spy whenever he managed to focus on the task at hand. It also meant he had a lot in common with the deceased. He might actually understand what had made Angela Miller tick, because I certainly didn’t get it.

Dang it, I needed his help.

“I’ve got a job for you,” I said, praying I wouldn’t later come to regret this.

“It’ll cost you.” Pringle rubbed his hands together faster and faster, an addict on the verge of getting a fix.

I’d given into his insane demands many times before, but now that I knew Pringle a bit better, I knew I could get by with much less. “I will let you play with my cool new tech, if you do me a favor first.”

“Favor, favor, yes!” he cried, his eyes growing wide as if he could already see a future in which he had taken possession of his prize.

There were three things I needed his help with, but if I told him the full list at once, he’d get distracted and forget to do any of it. If I told him in the wrong order, he could abscond with the evidence before actually handing it over to me. It was like a strange logic puzzle with only one right answer.

I thought it over for a few minutes to make sure I was happy with my plan of action before revealing said plan to the hyperactive raccoon. I also needed to give him enough details to explain the task without providing too much and making him bored.

“There’s a big buck out in the woods,” I began, speaking slowly and making sure to enunciate each word. “He wandered into the neighbor’s backyard last night and got crime scene tape stuck in his antlers. We need him to talk to us, but both times I’ve tried, he’s gotten frightened and run off. Can you get him to talk?”

“You need a confession? Roger that.” He nodded vigorously. “I can torture him with—”

“No!” I screamed so loud, the house behind me seemed to shake. “He’s a potential witness, not a suspect, which means NO interrogation, okay? I just need to know what he saw. It may be the clue to cracking this case wide open.”

He paused, suddenly becoming stock still as he raised his eyes to meet mine.“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll let you check out the new tech, and when we’re done using it as evidence, I’ll even let you keep it.”

He took a step back, considering my offer.“What is it? What does this new tech do?”

“That’s part of the fun.” I made my eyes wide and my smile wider. “It’s a mystery surprise. So are you on board?”

Pringle raised his hand to his chin and rubbed it as he thought, then jumped straight up into the air and shouted,“I’ll do it,” before turning tail and running off in pursuit of our witness. I just hoped he took it easy on the poor buck who was already scared half out of his mind.

Octo-Cat pawed at my leg to get my attention.“Why didn’t you ask him to go into the house and find the missing memory thingy?”

I shuddered.“I’d rather leave my prints all over that place than unleash that little bandit on a big empty house full of potential treasures.”

“Good point. So are we breaking in?” A smile stretched between his whiskers, and I could tell he looked forward to a little recreational B and E.

“I already told you—”

He hissed when he realized I still wasn’t playing into his paw. “Just put on a pair of gloves, Angela. Seriously, it’s not even that hard. We also have more cameras to find. Get with the program.”

“I’m having a hard time moving past that deer. It keeps coming back to the yard even though it’s clearly frightened. Why do you suppose that is?”

Octo-Cat let out a low, long groan.“I told you. The guy’s prey. They aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, if you know what I’m saying.”

“In the shed. That’s it!” At last he’d given me a lead I could pursue without worry of looking guilty later.

He tilted his head, regarding me with large golden eyes.“What’s it?”

“Ms. Miller died in her back shed. She was knocked out by an extra-large bag of deer feed,” I reminded him.

“And?”

“She’d only been in town for a couple of weeks, yet somehow she’d definitely managed to make good friends with that buck. She also complained more than once about Paisley scaring off the deer from her yard.” I watched Octo-Cat’s face the whole time I explained, but rather than appearing enlightened, he looked downright confused.

“So? So what has that got to do with any of this?” he asked with another savage flick of his tail. “Do you think the deer killed her for being late giving him his dinner?”

Okay, now I was irritated too.“Be reasonable,” I whined, unable to help myself. “I already said the buck wasn’t a suspect. But her apparent obsession with the local deer is the best lead we’ve got.”

My cat rolled his eyes yet again. We may have hit a new record for how many times he could dismiss me that way in a single day.“I thought the best lead we had was the treasure trove of evidence already waiting literally right next door.”

I thought about this for a second. Logically, his point was sound, but something inside me was begging me to follow this new hunch.

“Let’s split up,” I decided at last. “I’ll pursue the deer thing, and you work on finding the other cameras and locating the missing memory card.”

“Great, but you still have to let me inside.” He yawned. If I didn’t act fast, I’d lose him to yet another afternoon spent napping in the sun.

“I’ll go grab my gloves…”

13

Nan returned from her flash mob right as I was about to climb into my clunky old sedan and pay a visit to the pet store.“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” she asked, coming out of the garage with Paisley trotting happily at her heels.

“I’m investigating a case,” I explained, unable to hide the smile that crept across my face. I really did feel most like myself when I was in the thick of a mystery.

Nan narrowed her gaze and stared at me pointedly.“You’re snooping after the neighbor, you mean.”

I gasped in alarm. Nan had always approved of my investigative ways. Had she somehow suddenly changed her tune?

My fears were quickly abated, however, when she looked me up and down with a huge smile and said,“And I approve wholeheartedly. Take Paisley with you for a second set of eyes and ears.”

At hearing her name, the little dog began to bark excitedly and run quick zooming circles around Nan.

“What will you do here all by yourself?” I asked, giggling at Paisley’s playful antics.

“I’m working on a surprise for Grant, and I don’t trust you not to go blabbing.” She shook her finger at me then laughed good-naturedly. “Actually I’m surprised I’ve managed to keep it secret for this long. We’ll catch each other up when you’re back, okay?”

I smiled and nodded before plopping down into my car.“C’mon, Paisley. Let’s go to the store!” I called, then lifted the little dog into the car with me when she showed up outside my door. Even though my sedan was close to the ground, Paisley was too frightened to jump into it by herself—a point which Octo-Cat teased her about whenever he got even the slightest chance.

“What store are we going to, Mommy?” Paisley asked once I had her settled on my lap and the car headed down the long driveway.

“I’m not sure. I’m thinking maybe the pet store to start and then we’ll just go from there. I’m hoping to get some info about the local deer, just in case her connection to them somehow got our neighbor killed,” I explained, turning onto the main road and letting the steering wheel maneuver back to center beneath my fingers.

Paisley braced herself for the turn, then popped back up on four feet and wagged her tail until it was a blur.“Oh, yes. The deer here are very nice. They wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

I slowed the car and looked down at the pup on my lap.“Do you know the deer, Paisley?”

“Sometimes they talk to me even though I’m a predator. They don’t think I’m very scary since I’m so small.” Typically, Paisley would do anything to prove she was a big dog, but now she seemed almost proud that her tiny stature had afforded her some new friends.

Funny how Angela Miller had complained more than once about Paisley scaring off the deer when the Chihuahua was in fact friendly with the local herd. And shame on me for not thinking to ask Paisley about them earlier.

“Do you know a big buck who lives around here?” I slowed the car to nearly a crawl, wanting to stay on the quiet backroads while I was so immersed in our conversation.

“Sure I do,” Paisley nodded and yipped. “That’s Irving. We used to talk a lot, but lately he’s been too scared to say hello.” Yes, we were definitely talking about the same deer I’d seen earlier.

Now I stopped the car completely. I could save myself the errand if Paisley already had all the information I needed.“Scared? Why? What did he see?” I asked, pulling the car over to the shoulder.

Paisley hopped up and put her front paws on the car door, peering outside with open joy.“I don’t know. He’s not talking to me, remember?”

“Right.” Well, it was worth a shot. I rolled down the window for my doggie friend and got back to driving.

We drove to a new pet store that had opened up across town, preferring to avoid the scene of a grisly murder that we’d helped solve a couple years prior. This town was filled with too many memories of past cases, and we had a fresh mystery to focus on now.

My phone buzzed from its spot in the cupholder, then it buzzed again. I resisted the urge to check the new messages until Paisley and I pulled into the pet store parking lot and parked.

“What is it, Mommy?” Paisley asked, her paws back on the side door and her tail wagging furiously. She loved car rides, but even more than that she loved visiting new places—or really any place we were willing to let her tag along.

The missed texts were from Charles. Rather than opening them up, I called instead. If he had time to text, then perhaps he also had time for a chat.

“There you are,” he said by way of greeting. I could hear the grin underlying his words.

“Here I am,” I answered with a lovesick smile as I sighed and laid my head back against the seat rest.

“So,” Charles prompted with a soft, breathy laugh. “Tell me about it.”

“About what?” I let out a soft chuckle, as if that would somehow prove my innocence.

“I know you went to investigate, and I know you left my text unread on purpose.” His words were firm but not angry. He sounded more bemused than anything else. Still, I’d been found out despite my best attempts to be slick.

Oops.“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Hey, your intellectual curiosity and steadfast commitment to justice are both part of what I love about you. Just be careful, okay? And tell me if I can help.”

“I love you too,” I said, brimming with joy at the thought this man would be my husband in just a few short weeks. “And what was that you just said about me? Can I use it on my business website to attract some new clients?”

“What’s mine is yours, including my words. Have them.”

I chuckled and made a mental note to update my site once I’d wrapped the investigation. I then took time to explain the scene last night in greater detail than I’d given him earlier. I also told him about our investigation so far that day and my hunch that somehow the deer were important.

“I don’t know, Angie,” my fianc? said after a long pause. “She fell and hit her head? That sounds like an accident to me. The police may be right on this one.”

“Something just seems off about it all. I can’t shake the feeling, you know?” I sighed. I’d really been hoping he would pick up on some small detail I’d missed, that by simply confiding in Charles I’d crack the case wide open.

“I do know. I just don’t have any suggestions on where to look next.” His response was earnest, but he also seemed a little disappointed in his inability to assist with this one. “Think of all the clues you’ve found. The camera didn’t have film. The bootprints matched the ones Officer Bouchard was wearing, and the flashlights at night were only seen by your cat. We know he’s not the most reliable. What if he made it up to have some fun at your expense?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” I said, even though we both knew he would—and had many times before. Was I embarking on a wild goose chase here? And was the gut feeling I had more of a guilty conscience than a detective’s hunch?

Charles seemed to think so.“Well, then maybe he got confused about what he saw? Maybe it was all a bad dream?”

I picked at the skin on my elbow. Even though everyone else seemed quick to brush this case aside, I still knew something wasn’t right next door. Something had happened, and I wouldn’t rest until I found out whether or not that something was murder.

14

I clipped Paisley onto the leash I kept in my car, then the two of us headed inside. This pet shop was much smaller than the bigger chain store a couple cities over. The only adoptable pets it sported were various types of freshwater fish, seeing as the retail shop mainly seemed to focus on pet supplies and not pets themselves.

The storefront was narrow with three long aisles that stretched toward the back. An empty counter stood in front of a large tropical fish tank, an old-fashioned cash register stationed on top.

Paisley tugged hard at the lead, and I followed her down the center aisle, right to a display of dog treats.“Can I have one, Mommy? Can I?” she begged, standing on her hind legs and waving her front paws at me repeatedly.

“Yes, once we find what we came here for,” I promised, hoping she would at least choose something size-appropriate this time. While it was adorable watching the little dog gnaw on a bone twice her size, I ultimately had to throw away her last chew when it started to stink up the house.

“Can I help you?” A man I hadn’t seen before popped his head out from the far aisle and beamed over at me. For a moment I worried he’d overheard me talking with my dog, but then I remembered I was in the company of another pet person. Pet people never questioned someone talking to their animals, and I also hadn’t said anything that made it too obvious that Paisley was talking back. My secret was still safe, at least when it came to this particular stranger.

“Hi,” I answered with a friendly wave. “I’m Angie. I noticed your shop was new in town and thought I’d come in to check it out and say hello.” The store had popped up several weeks ago and I was pretty sure Nan had been in, but I hadn’t yet made it by. Judging by the lack of any othercustomers, things weren’t going too well. I’d need to make more of an effort to support local businesses—being as I was a small business owner myself.

“Hello,” the man replied with an overenthusiastic wave back. “I’m Frank, and before you can ask, yes, Beans is most definitely around here somewhere.”

“Beans?” I asked in a higher pitch than I liked.

“Yes, that’s why the store is called Frank and Beans. My mother said it would only confuse people, but I think it’s cute. Don’t you?”

“Yes. Oh, yes, definitely. Drew me right in.” Truthfully, I hadn’t even noticed the name of the shop before entering. Some shrewd detective I was.

Frank joined me in the dog supply aisle, and I got a good look at him for the first time. He wore a graphic T-shirt over a long sleeve collared shirt with checks. He also had on khakis that were just a little too long, judging by the bottoms that were torn up and covered in dirt. I didn’t recognize the anime on his T-shirt, so I couldn’t say for sure, but the busty character with pouted lips and a flirtatious wink hardly seemed appropriate work attire. I shuddered for the single women of Blueberry Bay.

“Is Beans your dog?” I asked conversationally, unable to tear my eyes away from the cartoon cleavage splashed across his chest.

“Nope, Beans is a cat!” Frank caught me looking and blushed, then placed both hands on top of his shirt to hide the graphic. “His full name is Toby Toe Beans McGillicutty. He’s a little shy, but I can go get him if you want to say hello.”

“Actually I’m a bit short on time, but I was hoping I could ask you a quick question before I go. I will definitely be back to meet Toe Beans though, I promise.” It seemed the friendly thing to offer. Whether or not I liked his T-shirt, Frank still seemed like a nice enough guy. There was absolutely no reason to be rude, especially since I had my diamond engagement ring to show off my status as a taken woman.

“Just Beans,” Frank corrected, drawing my attention back to his face.

“Right.” I nodded once, twice.

He dropped his hands from his chest and used them to make big sweeping gestures as he spoke.“Okay, yeah. So what’s your question? I’m happy to help however I can. Mom says it won’t be easy competing with the big national chain, but I say that nothing worth doing is ever easy.”

“Yes, totally agree with you there.” I reached down and grabbed a bag of treats for Paisley, and she immediately began whimpering in anticipation. “I’m getting this. And I was also hoping to pick up some deer feed. I live by the forest and have quite a few wander through my yard day to day,so I thought it would be nice to make friends.”

“Ah, yes, deer are such remarkable creatures.” He waved his arms around wildly and knocked a small bag of treats from the shelf. “I’d love to help. And if you come back closer to Christmas I’ll be able to. Haven’t got any feed in stock now, what with the regulations and all.”

I raised an eyebrow as Frank bent down to scoop up the fallen merchandise.“Regulations?”

“It’s hunting season, which means feeding the deer is not allowed until the season is over. Otherwise we’d have a whole gaggle of gunners baiting the poor things and then blasting their heads off.” He made finger guns and pointed them at me, then frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Not a fan of hunting, I take it?” I ventured.

“No sirree. Or rather, no ma’am. I’m a proud vegetarian. Although I do make an exception for Beans. It’s not healthy to force a carnivore out of its natural diet. He’s a pescatarian.”

That poor cat. Octo-Cat did enjoy his shrimp, tuna, and lobster rolls, but he’d have my head if I tried to restrict his diet in any way. The one time I bought him reduced calorie food, he made it a point to puke at the foot of my bed every single day until I switched him back to the full-fat stuff.

“Do you know where I might be able to pick up some feed?” I prompted, attempting to steer our conversation back to where I needed it to go.

“Oh, perhaps I didn’t explain myself very well. Mother says I’m always talking too fast and going off the rails, which is a pretty weird expression, right? What have conversations got to do with trains? Anyway, I can’t sell you any deer feed right now. No one can, as buying and selling the feed is currently illegal.” Frank sniffed and ran a hand through his longish hair. I couldn’t tell if he was actively growing it out or if he’d just missed one too many haircuts.

I had to think for a minute to decide how much of my case I was willing to share with this new acquaintance. Despite being a touch odd, he was definitely friendly, but he was also incredibly talkative. I couldn’t risk him sharing private details with just anyone who walked into his shop. I had to play this cool.

I laughed it off.“Oh, weird. I had no idea. My neighbor asked me to pick some more feed up for her but didn’t mention the regulations. She had a burlap sack filled to the brim with I don’t know what. Some kind of grain maybe.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, suddenly suspicious of me and all my questions.“She must have gotten it before the season started.”

“Maybe she did. Do you know where she might have gotten it? Are there any other shops in town that would sell deer feed during the off-season?”

“The big chain place doesn’t have it, let me tell you. Their stores are crowded with a hundred types of dog food, but don’t even have this one essential. As far as I know, there aren’t any others offering it. You’ll have to rely on Frank and Beans for all your deer feed needs. In fact, I already have a nice stock waiting in the warehouse seeing as my supplier accidentally sent the shipment months ahead of time. Silly mistake, but at least he’s provided free storage space so we don’t have to send the full lot back. Anyway, that will be ready to put out the second those regulations are lifted, but for now can I interest you in some wild bird seed?” He began to head for the next aisle, and I dutifully followed along.

“You can feed the birds all year round. You just have to be careful that it’s not stolen by squirrels,” Frank explained as he motioned toward his supply. “Although I do have some squirrel feeders too, if that’s up your alley.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” I selected a small bag of bird seed, then put it back. “I’ll just take a little time to browse around. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to check out.”

He nodded enthusiastically.“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll let you browse in peace. I’ve got some new inventory to sort through anyway. Just holler when you’re ready.”

When Frank at last disappeared through the swinging doors that separated the front of the store from the back, I scooped Paisley into my arms and whispered,“Now let’s go pick the treats you really want.”

15

“Psssst,” a strange voice called from the next aisle over. I ducked my head and went to check it out but found no one.

“I smell a cat,” Paisley chimed in just as a little paw reached out from behind some boxes of treats to tap me on the arm.

“Psssst,” the voice urged again. “I heard you talking to that dog earlier. I know you can understand me.” A pair of green eyes glowed at me from the back of the shelf, but the rest of his small body was ensconced in shadows.

“Beans?” I asked, craning in an effort to get a better look.

“Shhh!” The cat moved forward on the shelf, revealing a long, lanky body covered in orange and white stripes. “Not too loud or my human will come back and ruin everything. Just listen, all right? Nod to show you understand?”

I zipped my lips, nodded, and waited for Beans to say more.

He kept his voice low, which made the whole encounter even more eerie.“I heard you were looking to buy some off-season feed, and let’s just say I can hook you up.”

I nodded again and offered a spirited thumbs up.

“Great, great. I’ll give you the info you need, if you give me what I need.” This was feeling more and more like a black market transaction. Who’d have thought that the neighbor’s penchant for feeding the local wildlife would lead me down this strange rabbit hole?

“What do you need?” I asked, eager to follow the lead, no matter how strange the trail.

Beans growled and reared back on the shelf.“Shhhh, no talking, remember?!”

I sighed but nodded all the same. As annoying as Octo-Cat could be, Toby Toe Beans McGillicutty was proving to be far worse.

“I overheard Frank tell you about my little problem. You know, the whole fish-only diet? Man, I am dying for a steak. You stop by later and bring me a nice cut of New York strip, I’ll see what I can do about getting you that feed.” With that, he turned tail and disappeared back behind the shelved goods.

I wanted to call after him to get a little bit more detail about the suggested arrangement, but Frank returned then carrying a big case of canned cat food.

“Still finding everything okay?” he asked, even though it had only been a few minutes since he’d left me on my own.

“Yes, I think I’m ready for you to ring me up,” I said, hoping the treats I already had in hand would satisfy Paisley seeing as Beans had interrupted us before she could pick something out for herself.

Frank sang an old rock tune under his breath as he scanned the two items I’d selected, then offered a closed-lip grin and wished me a good day. “Come back often and buy more,” he called after me just as I was headed for the door. “Help me prove mother wrong about the viability of my business choices!”

As soon as we were in the car, I opened the bag of treats and offered one to Paisley, which she happily accepted, wagging tail and all.

“That was pretty weird, huh?” I asked.

“Cats are always pretty weird,” she mumbled as she licked at my hand. “But I still like them anyway!”

I waited for her to finish before putting the car in drive and heading to the grocery store. I hoped Beans would be willing to accept a raw steak, because I didn’t have time to waste preparing it, especially when any seasoning choices I made could upset the feline and cause him to demand fresh payment. I may not know Beans well, but I knew cats.