Raccoon Racketeer

Chapter Twenty

A lot happened rather quickly after that.

Nan showed me all the old photos and mementos she’d kept hidden for fear of exposing her secret history growing up in Georgia and falling in unrequited love with her best friend. I still didn’t know why William had decided to entrust his baby to Nan when her mother was still very much alive. I think the only person who might know the answer to that was Ms. Marilyn Jones herself, but we had no idea where to start looking for her—or even if she was still alive all these years later.

Pringle took full credit for solving the case and decided his fee should be doubled for just how fast “he” had managed to solve the mystery. He also demanded that his payment be delivered within three days or it would need to be doubled again.

That payment? A new home, since we had irreparably damaged his under-porch apartment with our shovels. And because he had decided to ask for double, he also demanded that we erect new office headquarters for Pringle Whisperer, P.I.

Luckily, we knew the very best handyman in all of Blueberry Bay, a certain Mr. Brock “Cal” Calhoun. Not only did he do fast, quality work, but he also didn’t ask too many questions—like why a single woman and her grandmother needed not one, but two, tree forts erected in their backyard or why one of those forts also needed to be outfitted with electricity and a satellite TV dish.

Once Cal had finished building the twin tree forts and Pringle was all moved in, I introduced him to reality TV, the ultimate source of juicy secrets and real human drama—at least that’s what I told him.

Sure enough, he immediately got sucked in to one of the longest running reality competitions of them all, which meant there were plenty of back episodes for him to watch. He enjoyed laughing at the humans and their weak skills when it came to surviving in the wild.

“Survivor!” he quipped somewhere into his umpteenth hour of viewing. “Ha! Put a raccoon in there with them, then you’ll see what a real survivor looks like!”

Pringle had already begun to spend all his time in front of his new TV, which thankfully meant he stayed out of trouble. Well, at least for now.

Brilliantly, Octo-Cat had a fairly easy time convincing the raccoon to join our investigation firm rather than continuing to compete with us.

“Think about it, Pringle,” my cat crooned. “You like secrets. Now your whole job is keeping track of our secrets. In fact, that’s your new job title—Pringle, MSK. Master Secret Keeper.”

“Oooh, that’s even better than P.I.,” he crowed. “It’s got more letters. Better letters!”

Really, all that happened was that we moved our filing cabinets into his rarely used work fort, but at least I knew they were safe there, given the ferocity he used to protect all his favorite treasures.

When Cal had finished building the tree forts, he also fixed the hole in our roof so that no other animals would be able to crawl into our attic. He helped us clear out the space under our porch, too, and then laid down a solid stone base—also to keep the wildlife out. I didn’t mind getting up close and personal with my animal neighbors, but we needed to have at least some boundaries.

Julie, for her part, was incredibly relieved to find that all the missing mail had been accounted for. Her bosses at the post office let her off the hook but made sure to promptly deliver flyers throughout town, warning of highly intelligent and very disturbed forest animals.

Honestly, it made me laugh.

Pringle, too.

When I brought one home to show him, he grabbed it from my hands in delight and then raced around the neighborhood collecting as many as he could for his treasure trove. I had no doubt that he’d eventually turn them all into sloppily constructed origami cranes, provided he stopped watching TV long enough to get to work.

While all this was great, the most important follow-up item still remained. Nan and I needed to reunite the family.

That’s why my mom was here with us now.

Nan had baked all her favorites and encouraged her to dig in while she shared pictures and explained our shared, but until now hidden, past. Pringle had even generously returned the birth certificate and William’s letter to us, so we could show them to her as a way of starting the conversation.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know,” I explained to my mom, who sat stoically, taking it all in. I guess since she was an investigative reporter, she was used to larger-than-life stories like this one. It still couldn’t have made any of this easier.

“I can’t believe it. I have another mother out there,” Mom said with a genuine smile. “What was she like?”

“I didn’t really know her,” Nan explained. “But she was beautiful, just like you.” She bumped my arm. “And you, dear.”

“Can we find her? Can I meet her?” Mom asked with a determined glint in her eyes. She never backed away from a challenge, and that proved true now, too.

“I’m not giving up until we do,” I promised, taking my mom’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “But we have even more family out there, family we haven’t gotten the chance to know yet.”

Nan sucked in a shaky breath, and I offered her a reassuring smile before turning back to my mom and revealing, “I have their phone number. Should we call?”

We caught Mom up on the McAllisters of Larkhaven, Georgia, and the help I’d received from the church receptionist.

“Can we really call them?” Mom asked. “Just like that?”

“Hey, you never know,” I said with a goofy smile. “Maybe they’ve been looking for us, too.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nan said, hugging us both from behind.

“Are you really okay with this?” Mom asked. “It must be so scary for you to go back to that time, that place.”

“I’m not going back,” Nan said with a wistful smile. “Only forward with my two girls.”

Mom nodded, and I punched in the number I’d long since memorized even though this was the first time I was actually placing a call.

It rang three times, and then…

“Hello?” a woman who sounded about Mom’s age answered.

“Is this Linda McAllister?” I asked through happy tears. I already knew what the answer to my question would be. “Because I think we might be related.”

Even though she hadn’t expected our call, we spent over two hours chatting about our lives, growing closer and closer, until there was no doubt in any of our minds that we were, in fact, family.

“So, when are you coming down to Larkhaven to see me?” Linda asked.

“Soon,” I answered with an enormous smile. “Real soon.”

Cats on a train are so much better than snakes on a plane!

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