Kitty Confidential. Terrier Transgressions. Hairless Harassment. Dog-Eared Delinquent. The Cat Caper. Chihuahua Conspiracy

Yes, this was the same guy who had made me feel like an idiot when I came to him for care after getting zapped unconscious by the office coffeemaker. It was upsetting to see that his bedside manner hadnít improved since Iíd seen him last.

The doctor bobbed his head, ignoring the fact that I hadnít responded to his greetingóor his advice. ďDrowning is definitely a more impressive way to lose consciousness. Good job.Ē

Did he really just compliment me on my method of getting hurt? Yeah, because I had a lot of control over that. I briefly wondered if perhaps the not-so-good doc was a bit of a thrill seeker in his life outside of the hospital. He seemed almost excited as he discussed the details of my near drowning.

ďJust leave me alone,Ē I pleaded, finally breaking my silence. Hadnít I already been through enough that day?

Iíd nearly died, for crying out loud!

He shot me a withering glance before chuckling to himself and saying,ďNo can do. This time you need a lot more than some regular strength Tylenol. You know, a smile wouldnít hurt you much, either.Ē

If I had any strength left, Iíd have shot out of bed to punch him in the face. Iíd had enough violence for one day, howeveróeven though it sure seemed like this doctor guy was cut from the same sleazy cloth as my least favorite colleague, Brad.

Maybe it was time to start exploring some alternative medicine therapiesÖ or to stop getting knocked unconscious every other day. Either worked.

ďIíll be back later,Ē Dr. Lewis announced after a brief glance over my vitals. ďBy the way, you have some guests waiting in the lobby. Should I send them in?Ē

ďYes, please.Ē I nodded excitedly, wondering if Nan had somehow found a way to sneak Octo-Cat into my room. I definitely wouldnít put it past her.

It wasnít Nan who came to see me, though.

A few minutes later, Mr. Fulton and Bethany shuffled into my room. Mr. Fulton carried a giant pink teddy bear that saidItís a Girl which made me giggle.

Ouch. Laughing hurt deep in my chest.

ďHow are you doing?Ē Bethany asked, trailing her fingers along the foot of my bed. Iíd never seen her out of office clothes before and was surprised to find her personal style was actually pretty fun. She wore red polka dotted pants with a white button down shirt, an outfit that would have fit perfectly with either Nanís or my own wardrobe.

ďPretty good, considering.Ē I smiled to show her I was all right and that there were no hard feelings between us.

ďIím sorry my wife almost killed you,Ē Mr. Fulton interjected, catching me off guard. I mean, Iíd only been in the hospital a few hours. It seemed strange that he and Bethany already knew what had happened.

ďHow did you find out?Ē I asked, wondering just how much he knew about what had transpired between me and Diane, if he knew that she was also to blame for killing his beloved aunt.

He rushed to explain.ďI came home from my trip early and saw your car in front of my house and the door wide open. A short while later, officers showed up and brought me in for questioning. Letís just say they caught me up on my wifeís shocking extracurricular activities.Ē

ďAnd you?Ē I asked Bethany. I remembered now that, in the middle of her maniacal raving, Diane had mentioned something about Bethany being Mr. Fultonís daughter. I still had so many questions about that but was hoping they might fill me in without being prompted. After all, it technically wasnít any of my business.

Bethany glanced toward Mr. Fulton nervously.ďHe called me on the way over.Ē

ďItís okay,Ē I coaxed, apparently unable to play it cool. ďDiane told me the truth. At least, I think she did.Ē

I turned to Mr. Fulton.ďIs she really your daughter?Ē

ďYes,Ē they answered in unison, both regarding me with similar expressions.

ďHow come you didnít just tell me that?Ē I asked Bethany, recalling the hard time Iíd given her at the funeral. Of course I felt terrible now.

ďI didnít want it getting out,Ē Mr. Fulton explained. ďDiane was already so upset.Ē

I glanced back toward Bethany.ďDid you know all this time?Ē

ďNot all this time. I suspected he might be my mysterious missing father when I took my position at the firm, but we only just had it verified by DNA testing. In fact, thatís why I decided to apply in the first place.Ē

Mr. Fulton looked like he was going to be sick as he explained,ďI cheated on Diane while we were dating. Just once, butóĒ

ďIt led to my mom getting pregnant,Ē Bethany supplied. ďIíve had some strangeÖ health issues these past few years, and Iíve been trying to learn more about my best options. So, finally my mom caved and told me more about my father.Ē

ďOh,Ē I said simply. It sucked for Diane that her husband had cheated on her. Sure, they hadnít been married at that time, but theyíd still been committed to each other. You always assume that your partner will be faithfulóbut then again, you also assume they wonít try to murder anyone you care about, too.

ďWe figured since you were already part of the family drama, thanks to Diane, you at least deserved to know the full story,Ē she said with a sniff.

ďIím so sorry, Bethany. I treated you horribly.Ē It all came rushing to me then. Sheíd grown up without a dad. Sheíd suffered health issues she didnít feel comfortable disclosing, and sheíd recently lost an aunt she never even got the chance to know.

ďYes, you did,Ē Bethany said with a frown that quickly transformed into a smile. ďBut Iíve treated you horribly on so many other occasions that perhaps weíre just even now. Letís stop trying to tear each other down and start lifting each other up instead now, okay?Ē

ďWe girls have to stick together,Ē I said in agreement. ďBy the way, I really like your outfit.Ē

She smiled and sashayed playfully at the compliment.

ďAgain, Iím so sorry that my wife tried to kill you,Ē Mr. Fulton said with a pained expression. ďWhat I donít understand is why. Do you know?Ē

Both he and Bethany studied me with curious eyes.

I took a deep breath to steady myself before revealing,ďShe thought I was psychic and that I had figured everything out. As part of that, she confessed to killing Ethel in a scheme to get more money out of your divorce.Ē

Mr. Fulton sighed and shook his head.

ďAre you?Ē Bethany asked, her breathing hitched slightly as she awaited my response.

I scrunched up my face in confusion.ďAm I what?Ē

ďPsychic,Ē she supplied.

ďWhat?Ē I chuckled nervously. No one besides Nan could ever know the truth about me and Octo-Cat. ďNo, of course not. Donít be silly.Ē

Bethany laughed, too.ďJust seeing if you still have your wits about you after that massive loss of oxygen to your brain.Ē

Mr. Fulton placed a hand on his daughterís shoulder. ďBethany, could you give us a moment?Ē

ďSure. Iíll be waiting for you outside,Ē she answered, smiling at me one more time before leaving the room and clicking the door shut behind her.

Fulton grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up beside my bed.ďI think it goes without saying Iíll be resigning from the firm.Ē

I nodded, unsure of what he wanted from me now.

ďIíll actually be using it as an opportunity to retire, get to know my daughter, and enjoy life outside of work for a change.Ē

ďThatís great,Ē I said, happy for him but finding it hard to maintain my enthusiasm. My brain felt heavy with the weight of all the new knowledge Iíd acquired that day, and I needed my rest.

ďI had no idea what Diane was up to all this time, but Iím so sorry you got hurt because of it.Ē He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a check book. ďI know I can never make it fully right, but let me help you somehow. Do you think one-hundred thousand is enough toÖ? Well, to forgive me?Ē

I edged my hand toward his, but couldnít quite reach. ďYou donít need to pay me off. I forgive you.Ē

ďPlease let me do something. This money and more was going to go to Diane in the divorce, but now that sheíll probably be spending the rest of her life in prison, I suddenly have far more than I need.Ē He seemed so sad, so desperate to give me a small fortune in recompense. But he had never done anything wrong. Well, not for the past thirtyish years, at least.

ďI donít need anything,Ē I said, realizing as soon as I said the words that they werenít entirely true.

Mr. Fulton must have caught onto my ambivalence, because he said,ďI can see you do. How about one hundred and fifty? Two hundred? Please, just tell me what you need.Ē

For the briefest of moments, I allowed myself to envision what life would be like with that kind of money. I could stop working, put a sizable down payment on a house all my own, or even take a couple years off to travel the world.

I could do anything my little heart desired.

But, honestly, I liked my life, no matter how lackluster it may appear to an outsider. Sure, I wanted to be rich one dayówho doesnít?óbut I also wanted to make my own fortune, my own way.

There was one thing, however, I now desperately wanted that only Mr. Fulton could provide.

ďI do have a request, if you donít mind,Ē I said after licking my cracked and dried lips.

He perked right up and poised his pen over the checkbook.ďAnything. Name your price.Ē

ďWould you mind if I keep the cat?Ē I asked, almost afraid to breathe until he gave me his answer.

He closed his checkbook and stared at me blankly.ďThe cat?Ē he asked to clarify.

ďYeah, Octavius MaxwellÖĒ I broke off in a laugh. ďYou know, Ethelís cat, the one Iíve been looking after this week.Ē

ďThe cat!ĒRecognition at last lighted in his eyes.ďI forgot about him with everything else thatís been going on these past few days.Ē

I smiled and waited for his answer.

It came with a wink that I didnít quite understand. ďOf course you can have the cat. Iíll send over his things in a couple days when youíre settled back at home.Ē

My heart filled with joy over being able to keep an animal I had until very recently considered the bane of my existence, but now wouldnít trade for the worldóor for two-hundred thousand dollars.

ďThank you so much,Ē I called after Mr. Fultonís departing figure, absolutely beside myself with delight.

I couldnít wait to get home and tell Octo-Cat the good news.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_2]

Iwas given the next two weeks off work to recover from my ordeal and spent most of it curled up on the couch with Octo-Cat, catching up on all our favorite human TV shows. We even found a show about a cat trainer, which we both found hilarious. Every time theďexpertĒ interpreted what the cat was feeling, Octo-Cat corrected him and we both broke out laughing.

A few days into my forced vacation timeóyeah, they really had to twist my arm on this oneóa parcel arrived by courier.

ďWhatís this?Ē I asked, after signing my name on the dotted line.

He shrugged and trotted away, leaving me alone with the mysterious letter. It was a very thick letter, at least twenty pages long.

ďWhatcha got there?Ē Octo-Cat asked, coming to sit beside me at the table as I continued to puzzle over the manila envelope lying before me.

ďI honestly have no idea,Ē I answered while fiddling with the clasp.

ďWell, open up! Iím dying of curiosity here.Ē

I decided to let that one go since I was also quite curious myself.

After pulling out the bundle of pages, I quickly scanned the first, then flipped through, glazing over the headlines for each subsequent section of the legal document before me.

ďSay, Octo-Cat,Ē I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away. ďWhatís your full name again?Ē

ďOctavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo,Ē he said, each syllable rolling off his sandpaper tongue seamlessly.

ďAww,Ē I cooed. ďYou added my last name.Ē

ďWell, of course I did. Youíre my human,Ē he said with an endearing twitch of his whiskers.

ďUm, for legal purposes, youíll have to drop the Russo, though.Ē

ďWhy?Ē

I pushed the papers toward him, even though he couldnít read very well yet.

ďWhatís that say?Ē His tail flicked in agitation.

ďThis is the paperwork for the trust fund Ethel set up for you. Now that you live with me, Iím your official guardian and thus guarantor of your estate.Ē

He yawned.ďAnd that means?Ē

ďTwo things,Ē I told him with a huge smile on my face. ďOne, youíre legally mine now. And two, we will receive a stipend of five thousand dollars per month to contribute to your care and provide the lifestyle to which you are accustomed.Ē

Octo-Catís eyes grew wide.

ďFinally!Ē he cried. ďI knew Ethel would come through for me. Now letís have a little talk about these living quartersÖĒ

2. TERRIER TRANSGRESSIONS

Chapter One

Hi, Iím Angie Russo, and I have a talking cat for a pet. Well, he only talks to me, but still. A few months have passed since he came to live with me following the murder of his owneróa sweet old lady who was poisoned by a member of her own family in a greedy inheritance grab.

Since then, Octo-Cat and I have been settling into our new life as roommates, and heís nice to me more often than not just so long as I feed him his breakfast on time and never, ever call him ďkitty.Ē Heís even learned how to use his iPad to call me on FaceTime so we can check in with each other while Iím at work.

Yes,his iPad.

Have I mentioned just how spoiled he is?

Not only does he have his own tabletóand a trust fund, tooóbut he insists on drinking Evian fresh from the bottle and will only eat certain flavors of Fancy Feast when served on specific dishes and according to his rigorously kept, though fully unnecessary, schedule.

I have to admit heís grown on me, something I honestly never thought would happen. I even kind of like my job as a paralegal at Fulton, Thompson and Associates these days. Things have been pretty interesting since the Fultons left town rather abruptly and our firm lost its senior most partner.

A cutthroat competition as to who will take his place has ensued. Until Mr. Thompson decides whom heíd like to promote, though, weíre simply Thompson and Associates. Lots of candidatesóboth from within our firm and from outsideóhave been passing through our office in hopes of securing the coveted position at Blueberry Bayís most respected law firm, but Thompson is having a hard time making up his mind.

Canít say I blame him. I definitely wouldnít want to be in his shoes.

Our firm is now a bit infamous following the surprising murder involving one of its partners and his family. Everyone wants the scoop, but Mr. Thompson has made it very clear: we arenít supposed to discuss what happened with anyone.

In the meantime, he has hired a new associate to help keep up with the newly increased workload. Charles Longfellow, III, came to us highly recommended with a great resume and even better looks.

Itís been a while since Iíve had a crush butóboyódo I have it bad for Charlie. Heís got this thick, wavy hair that falls in a perfect dark swoop on his forehead. Heís tall, likemaybe-played-basketball-in-high-school-but-probably-not-in-college tall, and you could easily get lost in his deep green eyes. I know, because I already have a few times.

Yes, as much as I usually prefer books to boys, I often find myself a bit twitterpated whenever Charles is near. Thatís probably how I made such a colossal mistake in the first placeÖ

Now Iím being blackmailed about my biggest secret, the fact that I can talk to animals.

The worst part? I kind of like it.

I should probably start at the beginning, huh?

Well, here goes nothingÖ

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

Octo-Cat called me via FaceTime just before noon. I was at the office, of course, but since he knew not to call unless it was an emergency, I decided to put my research on hold to answer him. Besides, almost everyone had left the firm for an early lunch meeting, leaving me more or less alone in the building.

ďWhat do you need?Ē I asked after scanning the premises just in case I wasnít as alone as Iíd thought. Normally I took my calls with Octo-Cat in the bathroom, but one of the junior associates had been holed up in there for at least half an hour before he leftóand I definitely wanted to avoid whatever disaster scenario heíd left behind.

ďThereís a fly in my Evian,Ē my cat complained with a keening mewl. His face looked utterly scandalized as he leaned in close to the camera.

ďOh, you poor thing,Ē I cooed while rolling my eyes just out of his view. Octo-Cat was definitely too spoiled for his own good sometimes, but then again, I received a five-thousand-dollar monthly allowance for his care, so I really couldnít complain too much.

ďMy thoughts exactly,Ē he answered with a grimace and a sigh. ďI need you to come home immediately to rectify this situation.Ē

ďI canít. Iím at work,Ē I reminded him with a beleaguered sigh of my own while clicking through my overfull email inbox idly.

Octo-Cat growled when he noticed he didnít have my full attention. ďI thought you were supposed to only be going part-time now?Ē

Why was I constantly explaining my life choices to a cat? He rarely remembered what I told him, anyway. Weíd had this exact same conversation about my work at least three times already. Rehashing it now felt like the ultimate exercise in futility.

Still, it was easier to explain yet again than to deal with one of his hissy fits.

ďYes, technically I am part-time,Ē I explained patiently. ďBut I need to help out extra until Thompson finally hires a new partner. Itís been really busy around here, and unfortunately I just donít have time to stop home and pour you a new cup of water right now. Iím sorry.Ē

His eyes narrowed, ready to go to war over such a simple thing.ďBut donít you receive a generous monthly stipend to ensure Iím cared for in the manner to which I am accustomed? Because I most definitely amnot accustomed to having a wiggly-legged fly swimming in my Evian.Ē

Once again, it was easier to cave than it was to argue for hours or days on end.ďAargh, fine. Iíll send Nan by to pour you some more water. Happy?Ē

He yawned, which only annoyed me more.ďNot exactly. It will take me days to recover from this horrible event. Could you make sure Nan knows she needs to throw out the contaminated cup?Ē

ďYou are a cat,Ē I said between clenched teeth. ďYou are supposed to be a fearsome hunter, not a spoiled baby. You know, other cats evenóĒ

ďAngie?Ē a deep, dreamy voice broke into the middle of our conversation.

Oh, no, no, no. Everyone was supposed to be gone!

I spun around in my chair to find none other than Charles Longfellow, III standing behind me and gawking over my shoulder at the image of Octo-Cat on my phone screen.

ďUm, hi, Charles.Ē I tittered nervously as I pushed the button to end our call, but it was too late. Heíd already heard and seen more than enough to figure out my secret. The best I could hope for now is that he would think one or both of us had gone crazy.

I took it as a good sign that he stood looking at me as if Iíd sprouted a second head. Perhaps that would have been less strange than what heíd really walked in on.

ďIs everything all right?Ē he asked, raising one thick eyebrow in my direction. The air suddenly felt impossibly thin like the office had been transported to the top of the nearest mountain.

I nodded, desperate for Charles to go away and stop questioning me.ďPerfectly all right. Thanks,Ē I lied, wishing Iíd inherited Nanís legendary acting skills. As it was, I could tell my colleague wasnít fooled by my feeble attempts to downplay the situation.

Sure enough, his voice dripped with sarcasm as he said,ďReally? Because it seemed like your cat needed some help with hisÖĒ A delicious smile crept across his face, stretching from one high cheek bone to the next. ďEvian? Is that right?Ē

My mouth fell open from shock, but no additional words came out to explain away the freak show my crush had just witnessed.

ďWell?Ē he prompted, widening his eyes at me. ďWere you or were you not just having a conversation with your cat?Ē

I tucked my hair behind my ears and swallowed hard before stumbling over my answer.ďUm, I call him sometimes when Iím away. He has separation anxiety soÖĒ I gave him my most ingratiating smile, but it didnít seem to work. I was seriously outmatched here.

ďBut it sounded like maybe he was talking back to you,Ē Charles insisted. ďLike you were having an actual conversation with each other.Ē

I blinked hard as I stammered,ďWhat? No, donít be silly. Of course I canít talk to animals. I mean, who can?Ē

ďYou, apparently,Ē Charles said, narrowing his gaze at me. Clearly he wasnít going to let me off the hook until I revealed the one thing I most wanted to hide.

I swallowed the giant lump that had become lodged in my throat, then broke out in hysterical laughter.ďGotcha! I canít believe you fell for my little office prank.Ē

Charles shoved both hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels, but didnít say anything.

Oh my gosh. Why wasnít he saying anything?

My heart galloped like a wild stallion as my nervous laughter fell away.

Charles studied me for a long time, and stupidly I couldnít bring myself to look away. ďYouíre coming with me,Ē he said.

ďWhat?Ē I crossed my arms over my chest in defiance. ďNo. I have too much work to catch up on here.Ē

He placed his palms on my desk and leaned down so our faces were only a few inches apart. Given pretty much any other circumstance, Iíd have enjoyed having his gorgeous face so near to mine.

As it was now, though? I was absolutely terrified.

ďYouíre coming with me,Ē he repeated with a devilish grin. ďUnless you want me to tell everyone what I saw.Ē

I gulped.ďEveryone?Ē

ďEveryone,Ēhe confirmed before returning to his full height and straightening his tie.

Completely bewildered and unable to see any practical alternative, I rose to join Charles.

ďExcellent,Ē he said, leading me to the door and motioning for me to go through it.

I turned back to study him.ďWhere are we going?Ē

ďMy place,Ē he answered coolly as we strode through the parking lot toward his car. Charles had never invited me anywhere before, especially not his apartment. Unfortunately, something told me I wouldnít like what was waiting for me there one bit.

Chapter Two

About five minutes after leaving the office, Charles and I pulled up to the Cliffside apartment complex. I was surprised to find that he lived in the budget apartments rather than the nicer condos on the other side of town. Normally, Cliffside was for newly graduated students or those who were otherwise just passing through.

As an attorney, Charles could easily afford somewhere niceróand safer, too. Crime rarely occurred in Glendale, but when it did, nine times out of ten it happened here. As a criminal defense attorney, perhaps he wanted to be closer to his client base. Still, most of the crimes our firm dealt with fell under the category of white-collar crime. With its stained carpeting and peeling paint, Cliffside was anything but white collar.

Did Charles living here mean he wasnít planning on making Blueberry Bay his long-term home? Was he just passing through like so many of the others who lived in this run-down cluster of buildings?

Even though he was kind of blackmailing me, I hoped heíd stick around a bit more permanently. Despite everything, I still liked him and preferred his company to the others at the firm. Lately, Bethany and I had formed a tentative friendship, but we often found it hard to relate to one another. We just came from two very different worlds.

Despite his fancy name, perhaps Charles and I werenít so different, after all. No, I hadnít grown up poor, but Nan had raised me to be humble even as others were showering me with praise. Her mantra had always been that the stage was for stars, and real life was for real people.

Maybe Charles had grown up under similar guidance, although Cliffside was a little moreďreal lifeĒ than even I preferred.

Heíd remained tight-lipped on the drive over and stayed quiet still as he led me up the stairs to the third floor.

ďThis is me,Ē he said, turning his key in the door.

I shrugged and followed him in.

Immediately we were greeted by a hyper, barking dog, who was so excited to see us he piddled right on the floor at our feet.

ďSorry about that!Ē Charles cried, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the nearby counter. ďHe just gets a little excited sometimes.Ē

ďIíll say.Ē I politely patted the little dog on the head but resisted the urge to pick him up, seeing I was in no mood to be peed on today.

Something struck me as odd, though. Charles had already been in town for at least a month, but a quick glance around his apartment showed more unopened boxes than actual furniture or home decor. So, how did he already have a dog? And what did it do all day while he put in the long hours Thompson required of all his associates?

Charles finished cleaning up the mess, washed his hands, and motioned for me to make myself comfortable on the lone futon that sat against the living room wall.

ďWhereís all your stuff?Ē I asked conversationally, feeling more than a little unnerved when he sat down beside me on the much too short futon.

The terrier also hopped up when he patted the seat beside him.

He just shrugged, not seeming the least bit embarrassed by my question.ďI sold everything before moving east and havenít had the time to pick up much since arriving.Ē

That made sense. Heíd come to Maine by way of California, and as far as I knew, he didnít have any family nearby. Why anyone would want to leave guaranteed sunny weather to hole up in small-town Maine, Iíd never understand, but still, I was happy to have him here in Blueberry Bay.

The little dog spun in happy circles, racing from Charlesís lap to mine and back again and again. The poor thing was obviously deprived of the regular attention he needed.

ďIf youíre so busy, then why do you have a dog? That isnít really fair to him.Ē I didnít mean to sound accusing, but I knew very well from Octo-Cat that animals hated being left alone all day while their owners pursued lives outside the home. No wonder the little guy peed on the floor themoment he came through the door.

ďNo, Iíve only had him for a little while,Ē he said with a frown. ďAnd before you can say anything more, I know I donít have time for a dog butÖ well, itís kind of a long story, and itís why I asked you here.Ē

My curiosity was definitely piqued now, but first, I had to clarify one thing.ďYou didnít ask me here,Ē I said with a knowing look. ďYou forced me.Ē

His handsome face pulled down in a frown.ďIím sorry. Really, I am. Itís just.. I didnít know how else to get you to come, and Iím kind of desperate here.Ē At least he had the decency to appear apologetic now.

I nodded even though I didnít really understand what he was talking about yet. Obviously,he didnít understand that I would have been more than willing to follow him anywhere if only heíd asked nicely.

Charles stroked the tan and gray, silky-coated dog and launched into his story.ďThis is Yo-Yo. Heís not mine. I found him, actually.Ē

I immediately went into fix-it mode.ďHow long ago? Did you call the shelter? Iím sure someoneís really missing him and hoping heíll come home.Ē

Charles shook his head and cleared his throat, glancing from me to Yo-Yo before he said,ďNo. His owners are dead.Ē

I scooted a little farther from him on the futon.ďWhat? How could you possibly know that if heís just some dog you found?Ē

ďThe address listed here.Ē He thumbed the tag on the Yorkieís collar. ďAnd I know his owners are dead because Iím defending the person accused of their murder.Ē

Well, Iíd heard more than enough now. Jumping to my feet, I cried, ďWhoa, whoa, whoa. I may not be the one whoís taken an oath of ethics, but this seems really, really wrong. What are you hoping to accomplish by keeping this poor dog hostage?Ē

Charles stood, too, holding Yo-Yo against his chest with one arm and reaching the other toward me. I yanked myself away before he could make contact, though. The last thing I needed was my batty hormones intervening here.

ďMy client didnít kill Yo-Yoís owners,Ē he said, his eyes begging me to understand. ďHeís innocent.Ē

ďYeah, everyone says theyíre not guilty, but you know what? Usually, they are.Ē I briefly considered grabbing Yo-Yo and making a run for it. That poor, little dog. First his owners had been murdered, then heíd somehow inexplicably wound up with the man defending their killer.

ďNo, itís not like that,Ē Charles insisted. ďI know he didnít do it, but the evidence against him, itís bad. Like I said, Iím desperate here. So when I saw you talking to your cat, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could be the answer to my prayers. You could save an innocent man from jail and help get justice for Yo-Yoís owners, too.Ē

I considered denying my ability, insisting that there was no way I could do what he was asking for, but Charles just looked so needyóand Yo-Yo also chose that exact moment to whimper and stare at me with sparkling, little doggie eyesÖ

ďUgh, fine!Ē I shouted, sinking back down onto the futon. ďIíll see what I can do.Ē

Relief washed over Charlesís face as he lowered himself beside me. ďThank you. Youíre a lifesaver!Ē

ďYeah, well, I havenít actually done anything yet,Ē I grumbled. There was absolutely nothing about this situation I liked.

ďThe fact that youíre willing to try means everything,Ē Charles said, and for the briefest of moments something passed between us.

Love?

Longing?

That special bond between a blackmailer and his blackmailee?

Really, I had no idea.

He stood again, then set Yo-Yo on the futon beside me. The dog jumped on my lap where he immediately began licking my face, his tail wagging wildly with each lap.

ďHey, Yo-Yo,Ē I said, completely unsure of myself. The only animal Iíd ever actually carried on a conversation with was Octo-Cat, and heíd talked to me first. This thing right now with Yo-Yo felt crazy, unnatural, and uncomfortable by comparison. Still, I had to try for the sake of Charles and his client. And for Yo-Yo, too.

ďI understand you lost your owners,Ē I said slowly with an even voice. ďCan you tell me what happened?Ē

The Yorkie continued licking my face without any signs of slowing down, so I picked him up and put him on the floor to see if it could help him focus.

ďWhat happened to your owners?Ē I asked again. ďDid someone murder them?Ē

Yo-Yo yipped merrily and hopped back up on the futon beside me. Now he decided it was a good time to douse my hand in a slobber bath.

ďWhat did he say?Ē Charles asked eagerly. His eagerness made this whole thing that much more frustrating. Iíd always hated letting people down. Yes, even when they were blackmailing me, I guess.

ďHe barked,Ē I said simply.

ďYes, but what did it mean?Ē

ďI donít know,Ē I admitted honestly.

His face fell.ďBut I thought you could talk to animals?Ē

ďI talk to my cat, but thatís it.Ē

ďSo why canít you talk to Yo-Yo?Ē This was the hundred-thousand-dollar question. Iíd stopped questioning my sanity when it came to my ability to talk to Octo-Cat but still had no idea why I could speak to him or what the extent of my powers might be.

I raised my palms and shrugged.ďI donít know, but Iím trying.Ē

ďWell, try harder,Ē he urged. ďItís really, really important.Ē

ďIam trying,Ē I muttered to Charles through gritted teeth, then turned back to Yo-Yo with my most pleasant expression. ďHey, there, little guy. If you could talk to me, it would be a huge help. Maybe start by telling me what you really think of this guy youíre living with now?Ē

I hooked a thumb toward Charles and made a goofy face, which resulted in Yo-Yo grabbing hold of my sweater and giving it a firm tug.

ďHey, stop!Ē I cried, but this only made him tug harder. When I finally managed to wrestle my shirt away from him, it had been stretched beyond repair. I leaped to my feet so he couldnít destroy any other parts of me before we were through here.

ďWhat did he say?Ē Charles asked, hope reflecting in his dark eyes.

ďHe said youíve got the wrong girl,Ē I answered. ďAnd that he liked my sweater but still thought it deserved to die a horrible, untimely death.Ē

Charles deadpanned.ďJust like his owners, huh?Ē

Okay, now I felt bad, but it didnít change anything about my inability to speak with Yo-Yo. Iíd tried. It hadnít worked. It was time to move on.

ďI donít know what he said or even if he said anything,Ē I explained, hoping Charles would finally take me at my word. ďI guess I canít talk to dogs.Ē

ďBut you can talk to cats?Ē

I shrugged noncommittally, but he seemed to interpret this as my agreement.

ďGreat,Ē he said, shuffling through the items in a junk drawer before extracting a long, black leash. ďCímon, Yo-Yo. Weíre going for a walk,Ē he cried in a slightly higher pitched voice that made me forget my irritation for a momentóbut only a moment. ďWant to go for a walk?Ē

ďAnd Iím going back to work,Ē I said, traipsing toward the door. ďDrop me off on your way to wherever it is the two of you are going.Ē

ďSorry, canít,Ē Charles answered while the Yorkie ran furious, barking circles around the apartment to convey his enthusiasm. ďWe need you to come with us.Ē

I crossed my arms and eyed them both suspiciously.ďWhy?Ē

ďBecause weíre going to your house to talk to your cat,Ē Charles explained, grabbing Yo-Yo into his arms and clipping on the leash.

To my house?

Crud. Octo-Cat was definitely not going to like this.

Chapter Three

Less than two miles stretched between Charlesís apartment complex and my rental home, which meant we were in one place almost as soon as weíd left the other.

I opened the door to find Octo-Cat waiting for me with a rapturous look upon his face.

ďFinally!Ē he cried. ďIíve been so thirsty.Ē His expression quickly changed to outrage, though, when Yo-Yo nosed his way into the house and gave Octo-Cat a big, wet kiss right on the nose.

Charles pulled back on the leash, then lifted the visiting dog into his arms.

Octo-Cat shook with fury as a bead of drool dripped down his face and onto the carpet below.ďWhy would you do this to me? Havenít I already been through enough today? First the fly and now a-a-adog?Ē he spat out that last word as if it were the foulest curse word he could imagine.

ďWhatís he saying?Ē Charles asked with rapt interest.

ďHeís mad at me,Ē I admitted. ďAnd heís not happy about Yo-Yo being here, either.Ē

Octo-Cat arched his back and hissed.ďYou can say that again,Ē he muttered before jumping onto the kitchen table.

ďJust give me a minute here,Ē I whispered to Charles before joining my irate tabby in the kitchen.

Octo-Cat took a giant leap from the table to the counter, then sat with his tail flicking back and forth wildly.ďUnbelievable,Ē he growled without so much as looking at me.

I knew I was in the wrong here, but I also had no other choice but to comply with Charlesís wishes. If anyone else found out about my special ability to talk to cats, Iíd lose my job, be made a laughing stock, and possibly have to move away from the only home Iíve ever known to start life over with a clean reputation.

Hopefully Octo-Cat would understand that my hands were tied once I had the chance to explain a bit more. First, though, I needed to find a way to give Charles what he wanted. Once I did, the threat hanging over my head would be eradicated, and Octo-Cat could go back to being mad at me for the usual reasons.

I grabbed a fresh bottle of Evian and a clean china tea cup from the cupboard. The cup came from the set weíd inherited from his late owner Ethel and was used for the sole purpose of offering Octo-Cat his daily libations. After presenting the fresh water to him, I made quick work disposing of the dead fly.

He took one quick lap from the dish, then trotted off to my bedroom without so much as a thank you.

ďYouíre welcome!Ē I called after him with a scowl. Jeez, it felt like no one appreciated me today.

ďSo what now?Ē Charles asked, bending down to unleash Yo-Yo.

ďNo, wait,Ē I cried, but unfortunately it was too late.

The Yorkie immediately darted into my bedroom, barking manically the whole way. A dreadful hiss-growl-meow hybrid reverberated through the house, and a second later Octo-Cat appeared with his tail poofed out so large that it resembled that of a raccoon.

ďI hate you!Ē he screamed, tearing through the house as the dog gave chase.

ďGrab him!Ē I yelled to Charles, who made a leap for the rambunctious animal and missed.

ďHey, Yo-Yo!Ē I called, racing back toward the kitchen. ďWant a treat?Ē

The Yorkie immediately turned in his tracks and trotted after me, releasing a joyous series of high-pitched barks. I reached into the fridge and grabbed a slice of lunch meat to offer him as a treat just as Charles managed to re-clip the leash to his collar.

ďWell, that was an experience,Ē he said with a weary chuckle.

ďI wouldnít laugh if I were you,Ē I told him. ďItís going to take forever for my cat to forgive me now.Ē

Charles stared at me in confusion.

ďIf he wonít forgive me, then he also wonít help. Donít you know anything about cats?Ē I grumbled, despite the fact that I hadnít really known anything about them myself until a few months prior.

He looked properly chastised as he hung his head and let out a giant sigh.ďSorry. What should we do?Ē

ďWe arenít going to do anything just yet.You are going to take Yo-Yo outside, and I guess Iíll go offer up my firstborn in a last-ditch attempt to get Octo-Cat to talk to me.Ē

Charles began to smile but quickly retracted it immediately upon seeing the stone-cold serious expression on my face.

ďUh, okay. Címon, Yo-Yo,Ē he said, yanking the little dog toward the door.

ďDonít come in until I tell you itís okay,Ē I shouted after them.

ďItís never going to be okay,Ē Octo-Cat hissed, emerging from wherever it was heíd been hiding. ďWhy would you do that to me?Ē

ďIím sorry. I didnít want to,Ē I rushed to explain. ďHe made me.Ē

Octo-Cat wagged his tail, which had mostly returned to its normal size.ďSo you sold me out for a pretty face,Ē he cried. ďI thought we were friends! I thought we were family!Ē

My heart clenched. Normally I didnít let his dramatics get to me, but this particular reprimand cut deep. This is what I got for confiding my workplace crush in my cat. He was thankfully getting better at telling humans apart and could accurately guess gender about four times out of five now. Of course, when I needed him to identify a murderer, he was hopeless, but when it came to figuring out my crush? Sure,that was no problem.

ďI didnít want to,Ē I repeated yet again. ďHe walked in on us FaceTiming earlier and forced me to help him.Ē

Octo-Cat scoffed.ďSo he walked in on you.Lie! Seriously, Angela, how hard is that?Ē

He rarely used my name, and even more rarely my birth name. Oh, yeah, I was in serious trouble now. Someone would most definitely be waking up to vomit in her shoes tomorrowóand, sadly, that somebody was me.

ďLook,Ē I said, trying to reason with him. ďRegardless of whether you would have handled things differently, weíre here now. Charles wants us to talk to that dog to learn about how his owners died so that he can better defend his client who is being wrongfully accused of their murder.Ē

Octo-Cat nodded but maintained his cold, narrow gaze. Heíd been watching a lot ofLaw& Order reruns lately in an effort to better understand my job, and I was glad to see heíd learned enough to keep up with the legalese required to understand the situation.

ďOkay, fine,Ē he said after a thoughtful pause. ďBut why didnít you just talk to the dog yourself? Why did you need to drag me into this circus?Ē

ďBecause,Ē I whined, wishing that he could just take me at my word for once in our lives. ďI couldnít understand Yo-Yo, and I donít think he could understand me, either.Ē

ďAgain, why couldnít you have lied? For goodnessí sake, Angie, make something up so we can all move on with our lives.Ē

Well, it was nice to know my cat had no problems with lying to get out of a scrape. My morals were less questionable, however. Also, Iíd already tried lying to Charles and it hadnít worked.

At this point I had seriously begun to worry about the ramifications of my midday work break. How much time had passed? Had Thompson and the other associates returned to the office and realized I was missing yet?

ďI am not going to lie to him,Ē I said, choosing to take the high road. ďEspecially not about a case. What if his client really is innocent? What if he has to spend the rest of his life in jail because my lie messed up the case? Yeah, no thank you.Ē

Octo-Cat groaned and rolled his eyes, a new human gesture heíd picked up from me. ďSo what? You need me to translate because you canít speak dog?Ē

ďYes, please.Ē I clasped my hands in front of me. I wasnít above begging, and Octo-Cat just so happened to love it when I groveled.

He took on a self-important air, glancing down his nose at me. It made his eyes cross, and I had to fight to suppress a laugh.ďYou know dogs have a much simpler language than cats. It matches their simple minds. If you understand me, then you should definitely be able to talk to Dum-Dum out there.Ē

ďSo youíll help?Ē I asked, praying he could see how desperately I needed him.

ďFine, Iíll helpĒ he said with a growl. ďBut you owe me.Big time.Ē

I raced to the door to let Charles and Yo-Yo in before my cat could change his mind.ďKeep him on the leash this time,Ē I instructed as they passed back through the threshold into my home. ďBetter yet, keep him on your lap.Ē

Charles took a seat on my living room couch with the dog perched on his lap.ďWhat now?Ē he asked as I took up residence in my arm chair.

ďFirst, promise me that you wonít tell anyone about any of this.Ē

He bobbed his head in rapid, enthusiastic agreement.ďYes, I promise.Ē

I nodded, too.ďGood. Now remember I donít even know if this is going to work, but give me a few minutes and weíll be able to find out.Ē

Charles fell silent, his eyes fixed squarely on me. It seemed that maybe Octo-Cat frightened him a bit, and that was just fine by me.

I turned to my tabby companion and said,ďWould you please ask Yo-Yo what happened to his owners?Ē

Octo-Cat hopped up onto the coffee table and faced the dog on Charlesís lap before repeating the question.

Yo-Yo gave a happy, little yap and began to pant, which my cat translated as,ďHe says his owners are the nicest people in the whole world and that the guy he is staying with right now is nice, but he misses his family and wants to go home.Ē

ďHe said all that?Ē It took Octo-Cat at least ten times longer to translate that than it took Yo-Yo to speak it.

ďI told you,Ē Octo-Cat said, taking a quick break to lick at his paw. ďDog language is incredibly simple. What he actually said translates to Ďbest, miss,í but when dealing with dogs you have to add a ridiculous degree of enthusiasm to get a proper sense of what they want to tell you. Itís exhausting, really.Ē

ďWhat are they saying?Ē Charles asked.

ďShhh,Ē Octo-Cat and I both hissed.

Charles slumped back on the couch and watched us with a mix of intrigue and fear.

Turning back to my cat, I requested,ďWould you please ask him if he was present when his owners were murdered?Ē

When Octo-Cat relayed my question, Yo-Yo let out a long, shrill series of screams and clawed at Charlesís lap in a panicked attempt to get away.

ďOh my gosh, what happened?Ē I cried at the same time Charles asked, ďWhat the heck was that about?Ē

I looked to Octo-Cat for an explanation.

The catís eyes widened as he revealed, ďHe says his owners arenít dead, and that pretending they are is a mean and terrible joke to make.Ē

So much for using Yo-Yo to plan a defense for Charlesís client. It sounded as if the little dog were being murdered himself simply by being asked about their deaths. How could we get any useful information from him if he didnít even realize they had died?

One thing was for certain: I wasnít going to be the one to break this poor, sweet doggieís heart.

Chapter Four

I watched helplessly as Charles raked both hands through his hair in distress.

ďI just donít know what to do anymore,Ē he admitted with a deep, guttural groan. ďI thought for sure when I saw what you could do that it was fate, that you were meant to help me defend this case.Ē

I leaned forward in my chair and placed a consoling hand on his knee. It was the only part of him I could reach, but still, the minor contact sent a little thrill racing from my fingertips straight to my chest.ďMaybe I can find another way to help. Thereís still one thing really doesnít make much sense to me, though.Ē

He raised his head to look at me. A series of wrinkles lined his brow as he waited for what I had to say.

I cleared my throat before asking,ďIf youíre so sure your client didnít do it, then how come you donít have a defense for him outside of talking to the victimsí dog?Ē

He slumped back on his chair and ran a hand through his hair again, releasing the scents of soap and pine into the air.ďBecause everyoneís already decided heís guilty.Ē

ďExcept you,Ē I said flatly.

Charles sighed.ďSeems that way.Ē

ďOkay, so walk me through this, then. Can you tell me more about what happened and why everyoneís so convinced your client is guilty? Also, Iíd love to know how you ended up with this dog.Ē

Octo-Cat settled in on the chair beside me.ďActually, Iíd love to know that, too.Ē

We both waited while Charles composed himself enough to tell us the story.

ďIf he starts this thing with Ďit was a dark and stormy night,í Iím going to puke,Ē Octo-Cat remarked with an exaggerated yawn.

ďHush up, you,Ē I said to the impatient tabby at my side before offering Charles an apologetic glance. ďSorry. Go on.Ē

He cocked his head and studied the pair of us for a moment.ďWhat did he say?Ē

ďYou donít want to know,Ē I muttered, stroking Octo-Cat with more force than he generally liked as my way of sending him a silent warning.

Charles let his gaze linger on Octo-Cat as he launched into his description of the murder.ďIt happened in the morning. The victimsótheir names were Bill and Ruth Hayesóhad just put their house on the market. Apparently theyíd already had an offer accepted on a new place and needed their old place to move fast, so a big open house was planned for that day. I guess property in their subdivision rarely goes up for sale, so there was a lot of interest. At least a dozen couples arrived to check the place out, and one of them discovered the victimsí bodies shoved into the master bedroom closet upstairs.Ē

I took this all in before asking,ďOkay, so lots of people means lots of potential suspects. Why did the blame get pegged on your client?Ē

ďThe crime scene guys said theyíd been dead for close to ten hours before they were discovered the next morning, and it was my clientís hammer that was used as the murder weapon. Besides his sister, he was one of the only people who had access to their home and knew the code to disarm the security system.Ē Charlesís face was grim as he recounted the details. The more he told me, the more familiar the events started to feel. I hadnít been brought in to research this case for the firm, but I had heard all these details before from another sourceÖ

ďWait, is this the Brock Calhoun case? Iíve seen that all over the news.Ē I wasnít sure whether Charles knew that my mom was the anchor for our local station or that she was part of the reason everyone assumed his clientís guilt. I decided not to mention that part. Otherwise, heíd neverlet me help him, and clearly he needed as much help as he could get right now.

Charles nodded.ďHe and his sister Breanne were the ones responsible for selling the place. Someone used Brockís hammer to bludgeon the two homeowners to death.Ē

ďOuch. Yeah. It doesnít look good for your client.Ē I sucked air in through my teeth and glanced toward Yo-Yo, who was now snoozing on the floor by Charlesís feet. Thank goodness he couldnít understand what we were saying now. No one wants to picture their loved ones meeting such a violent end, and this particular Yorkie seemed less equipped than most to deal with such a harrowing mental picture.

Charles also looked down at Yo-Yo before meeting my eyes again.ďLike I said, everyoneís already decided heís guilty, and now the communityís pressing for a quick conviction and harsh sentencing.Ē

I tried to keep my expression neutral as I asked,ďWhat makes you believe heís innocent?Ē

ďPart of it is the fact that the evidence is largely circumstantial. Another reason is that people seem to have decided he was guilty based on the fact that he wasnít the nicest person during his high school years, and alsoÖĒ He seemed to debate whether he actually wanted to tell me this next part.

ďYou can tell me,Ē I said with what I hoped amounted to a reassuring smile.

He shrugged.ďWell, itís just a feeling I get when I talk to him. I know heís telling me the truth when he says he didnít do it.Ē

I nudged his knee again and made a funny face.ďIs intuition one-oh-one something theyíre teaching in law school these days?Ē

My joke didnít even get him to crack a smile.

Octo-Cat, however, sighed and said,ďWas that supposed to be funny? We really need to get you a joke book or something.Ē

Charles hung his head and continued to frown.ďI know Iím new to town, but it just seems ridiculous that stupid teenage behavior from nearly ten years ago could cost this guy everything. So what if he bullied some classmates? I mean, itís not great, but itís also not murder.Ē

I nodded. Brock had been a year ahead of me in school andóyeahóheíd been a jerk, but just like Charles, I also had a hard time picturing him as a killer.

ďYou said the Hayeses were bludgeoned to death with a hammer, right? That seems an awful lot like a crime of passion to me. What possible reason could Brock have had to kill them, especially so brutally and at close range?Ē

Charles perked up at this.ďThatís the crux of my defense so faróthat he had zero motive even if he had the means and opportunity.Ē

ďAnd the police arenít helping?Ē I thought back to my encounter with Officer Bouchard and his partner a few months ago. Theyíd saved my life without even a momentís hesitation. Could the same force really be turning their back on Brock in his hour of need?

Charles laughed bitterly.ďIf only. Once they made their arrest, they just kind of clocked out. Thatís really the worst part of all of this. How can the justice system do its job properly if the police donít do theirs?Ē

ďYeah, yeah, yeah,Ē Octo-Cat complained with an emphatic flick of his tail. ďHeís still leaving out the most important part. How did he wind up with that doggie menace in the first place?Ē

ďWhere does Yo-Yo fit into all of this?Ē I translated for Charles as I placed a stilling hand on the tabby beside me.

ďThatís the weirdest part. He was missing on the morning of the open house. Everyone assumed heíd just run away, but when I was driving through the Hayesís neighborhood last week, desperate for any clue or lead I could uncover, I found him waiting on the porch asking to be let in.Ē

Okay, that was weird, but it still didnít explain why Charles had kept him all this time. ďAnd you decided the best thing to do would be to steal him?Ē

He rushed to defend himself, but I wasnít buying it. ďNo, no, of course not.Ē

ďThen why do you still have him?Ē

ďIt was already pretty late that night, so I was going to take him to Animal Control the next morning. Only Thompson called me in early to go over the case, and I really needed his input. So then I decided I would take Yo-Yo in after work.Ē

I couldnít argue with this. After all, Thompson was my boss, too, and I knew how demanding he could be. ďLet me guess, it was too late again?Ē

Charles nodded emphatically.ďExactly, and the longer I hung on to him, the more the little guy began to grow on me. Also, the harder it became to just dump him off at Animal Control, or to confess that I was the one who had him all this time.Ē

ďWell, not all this time,Ē I pointed out. Charles had hung on to Yo-Yo for less than a week, so where was he all that time before? How did he just disappear and then show up again as if no time had passed at all?

ďA terrible reason to keep a dog,Ē Octo-Cat said with a sneer. ďI guess your hots for this guy have to be extinguished now. You canít end up with a dog person, Angela. That just wonít do.Ē

Heat pooled in my cheeks from morbid embarrassment, but then I remembered that Charles couldnít understand Octo-Catóand seriously, thank goodness for that!

ďEverything okay?Ē Charles asked, glancing from me to my cat and back again.

This was the exact moment Yo-Yo chose to wake up from his nap. Upon spotting the cat sitting just a few feet away, he resumed his hyper chain of barks almost as if heíd never stopped in the first place.

ďWell, isnít this pleasant?Ē Octo-Cat growled as he hopped to the top of my chair and took cover, using me as a human shield. ďI donít like this dog, and I donít like your boyfriend.Ē

ďHeís not my boyfriend,Ē I corrected without thinking.

Now Charles was the one blushing. Oh, great.

ďWill you please just stop embarrassing me in front of Charles?Ē I whisper-yelled at the cat.

Octo-Cat laughed but refused to back down or even apologize.

ďAnyway,Ē Charles said as he scooped up the noisy terrier. ďDo you think you could help withó?Ē He continued talking, but it was impossible to hear him over Octo-Cat, who decided now was the perfect time to start in on one of his annoying diatribes.

ďCharles is far too classy a name for this oaf,Ē he mused. ďIt sounds more like the name of a cat person, and a cat person would never have tormented me with Dum-Dum the way this guy did.Ē

ďKeep your commentary to yourself, please,Ē I begged, trying to focus my attention back on Charles.

ďIím going to give him a new name, one that fits him better.Ē

ďGreat, tell me about it later,Ē I mumbled to the cat. ďCharles, Iím sorry. Would you mind starting over?Ē

ďSure, I was hoping you could help me withóĒ

ďWhat might some good nicknames for Charles be? Charlie, Chuck…Huh. More like Upchuck, because being around him and his dog make me want to barf up my breakfast.Ē

I had almost managed to drown out Octo-Catís voice when he shouted at the top of his lungs. ďYes, Upchuck! Itís the perfect name for him. Upchuck, Upchuck, Upchuck,Ē he sang in absolute merriment and at the fullest possible volume his tiny kitty lungs could produce.

And he didnít stop after saying it a few times. Heíd already repeated this cruel new moniker at least fifty times when Charles asked, ďWhat do all these meows mean? Iíve never heard a cat talk so much in all my life.Ē

ďUm, heís just wondering if you have a nickname we could call you by,Ē I hedged. What? My explanation was mostly true. While I wasnít big on bending the truth, I was even less a fan of hurting othersí feelings when it was in no way warranted.

Charles broke into a smile at last.ďSure,Ē he said, his eyes lingering on mine. ďMy grandfather was Charles. My dad was CharlieÖ And since Iím the third, they call me Chuck. You can, too, when weíre not in the office. I mean, if you like that better.Ē

Of course his nickname would be Chuck. Of course it would.

Octo-Cat just about died laughing.

Chapter Five

Even with our multiple pit stops, CharlesóIím sorry, I just canít bring myself to call him ďChuckĒóand I still made it back to the office before the others returned from their long working lunch.

Charles locked himself into his office for the rest of the day, while I did some research on prior cases that could help defend Brock Calhoun from the double murder charge hanging over his head. Charles had probably already pulled every possible case, seeing as he was so desperate heíd now turned to my newly discovered pet whispering abilities to help suss out leads. Still, it felt good to know I was doing something to assist on the case.

Toward the end of the day, the mailman came and handed me a thick stack of bills, flyers, and correspondence for the office. After discarding the ads and circulars into the recycle bin, I made a round to deliver the letters by hand.

Charles groaned when I brought his to the office he shared with Derek. Previously, another associate named Brad had sat at his desk, but he was fired a few months back for workplace misconductówhich was a gentle way of saying the guy was the biggest, most sexist jerk you could possibly imagine.

ďMore hate mail, I take it,Ē Charles said as he studied the postmark and sighed. ďGreat. Itís coming all the way from Misty Harbor now.Ē

ďHate mail? You have got to be kidding.Ē I sat down on Derekís empty desk. He must have gone home early after the big lunch meeting. Whatever the case, I was thankful to have some alone time with Charles now. Yes, Iíd already forgiven him for the blackmailing that had taken place that morning. Maybe I needed to re-evaluate my life choices, or maybe it was just impossible to stay mad at a guy who already seemed so defeated.

ďI wish,Ē he said as he tore his thumb through the top of the envelope and extracted the folded paper inside. His eyes roamed down the page quickly, and then he handed the letter to me. ďThis is pretty much the usual these days.Ē

The short letter was typed in a large serif font and wasnít signed by its sender.You should be ashamed of yourselfwas the general gist, but it also included threats of picketing the trial and appealing to the bar to get Charlesís ability to practice law revoked.

ďIs this for real?Ē I asked, shaking my head as I handed the letter back to him. ďPeople are ridiculous.Ē

ďIf theyíre sending me this much mail, I can only imagine how much Brock must be getting.Ē Charles balled up the note and tossed it in the trash.

No wonder he was so desperate to defend his client. I hadnít seen the people in my hometownóand even the neighboring towns, too!óthis worked up since a popular football player got suspended for dealing drugs to underclassmen. He lost his college offers, scholarships, and even had his Homecoming King title retroactively pulled.

And back then it was just drugs.

Now we were facing murder, and things definitely didnít look good for Brock. Small towns never forget, which meant that even if he was found innocent, his reputation would be forever tainted and heíd probably have to move somewhere new to start over.

Poor guy.

ďIt gets even worse,Ē Charles said, his mouth arranged in a firm line. ďI just found out the local news station is devoting their entire broadcast tonight to a special theyíre callingBrock Calhoun: A Murderer Amongst Us.Ē

Ugh, leave it to my mom to go full-on sensational over this.

ďI might be able to help with that,Ē I said with a cringe and an apologetic smile.

He turned to be with excitement shining in his eyes.ďOf course! Why hadnít I put two and two together before? The sports guy, Roman Russo, youíre related, arenít you?Ē

ďYes,Ē I admitted through clenched teeth. ďHeís my dad. Also Laura Lee is my mom.Ē

His expression soured instantly. Generally my mom was well-liked all across Glendale and the greater Blueberry Bay region. Usually, though, people didnít find themselves on the receiving end of her passion for investigative journalism.

Most people also didnít realize that our locally famous news anchor was actually my mom, seeing as she decided to keep her maiden name just in case Nanís lingering showbiz connections could help her own career get a leg up.

That strategy had worked well, and Mom had boasted a very successful career pretty much ever since I was in diapers. Lately, though, she seemed to be growing tired of all the puff pieces and human-interest stories that dominated Glendaleís news. I hadnít talked to her in a couple weeks, but I could almost guarantee that she saw the Brock Calhoun case as a way of getting national attentionóand possibly a better job offer for both her and my dad.

ďLet me talk to her,Ē I said with a sigh. ďMaybe I can get her to ease up a little.Ē

ďMore like ease up a lot,Ē Charles said with a groan.

I nodded.ďYes, okay. Iím not sure I can catch her before tonightís story runs, but I promise you Iíll do my best.Ē

ďThanks.Ē Charles frowned and shuffled some papers around on his desk, which I took as my dismissal.

Halfway to the door, though, he stopped me.ďAngie?Ē

ďHmmm?Ē I whipped around, pleasantly surprised by the smile he offered me.

ďThank you,Ē he said in earnest. ďI know I kind of pulled you into this case against your will, but it means a lot that youíre willing to help me.Ē

ďNo problem,Ē I said with a giant grin of my own. Yes, Iíd definitely forgiven him for the whole blackmail thing now.

Charles returned to the papers on his desk, and I left his office to return to my own work spot near the firmís front door. As soon as I reached my desk, I shot a quick text to my mom:

SOS. We need to talk ASAP. XOXO.

I usually preferred to text in complete sentences and with proper punctuation, but it was a well-known fact that the more acronyms I used, the more likely my mom would be to respond quickly. Sure enough, I received a message back almost as soon as Iíd hitsend on mine.

Whatís wrong?She included an exploding head emoji and also one that looked like an alien, which I didnít quite understand, given the context. It kind of rankled that my middle-aged mother was more up on the current lingo than Iíd ever be.

I drew in a deep breath before composing my next text. I had her attention now, but getting her to agree wouldnít be easy. Need you to cancel the Brock Calhoun special youíre planning for tonight.

My phone buzzed with an incoming call not even a full minute later.

Momís voice sounded panicked, which made me feel a bit defensive. ďWhy do you need me to cancel my report? Itís one of the best pieces Iíve ever put together.Ē

I pinched the bridge of my nose while speaking, hoping it would help to stave off the migraine pressure I felt building in my head.ďIím sure it is, Mom, but he hasnít been put on trial yet. It isnít fair to turn the whole area against him before he even gets a chance to defend himself.Ē

Please understand. Please understand. Please understand.

It was hard to predict how my mom would react. Growing up, we hadnít shared the close relationship that many mothers and daughters do. She worked hard and never deprived me of anything, but it was Nan who had put in the emotional work raising me. Nan had always been the one I came to with my secrets, my dreams, my fears. Mom supported me in everything I did, but she was also so busy living her big life that being a mother sometimes felt too small by comparison.

I think this was a big part of the reason I hadnít settled down myself yetónot just the whole starting a family thing, but also really committing to a single career path. I liked having my options wide open and only being accountable to myselfówell, and my cat, too. I couldnít imagine the pressure my mom felt whenever her home and work lives collided, and especially when they crashed into one another as was the case with my request today.

ďWe all know he did it,Ē my mom said in little more than a whisper. ďBesides, I heard my piece might get picked up all across the state and maybe even farther out on the Eastern seaboard, too.Ē

I inhaled sharply before revealing,ďMom, my firm is defending him, and now Iím helping with the case, too.Ē

It took a moment for her to respond. When she did, she didnít seem at all sure of the words she spoke. ďPerhaps you could recuse yourself. We all know paralegaling isnít your real passion, but sharing important stories with the public is mine. Please, Angie. I donít want to hurt you, but canít you see that this is my big shot at finally breaking out of local news?Ē

ďI know, and I wouldnít ask unless it was really important.Ē

ďWeíve already been advertising it, too,Ē she said, her voice getting weaker with each syllable.

ďSo I heard.Ē I racked my brain for a solution that would satisfy both of us, finally landing on something that I thought might work. ďTell you what. Do you think you can hold the story until Friday? That will give us some time to work on the case without the added cloud of bias.Ē

Momís words came out a little surer. ďOkay, but what happens Friday?Ē

I presented the first option with as much as enthusiasm as I could muster. After all, it would be the better option for both of us, and I thought maybe that saying it aloud would give it more of a chance of actually coming true.ďEither we prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Brock Calhoun is not guilty, and we give you the exclusive right to break our story.Ē

ďOr?Ē Something rustled on the other end of the line, and I pictured my mom twisting nervously in her seat as she waited for me to make my full offer.

ďYou run it as-is and I wonít try to stop you.Ē

The line went silent for a frighteningly long time.

At last, my mother returned, her voice sweet and placating.ďHoney, are you sure? You seem really upset about all of this.Ē

I gulped down my anxiety. The clock had been set, and already it was ticking.ďIím sure. Thank you, Mom. If anyone at the station gets mad at you, send them over to me.Ē

She laughed, and I felt all the stress weíd each been holding bubble up and float away into the sky. ďI just might have to do that,Ē she said with a sigh. ďI love you, Angie. Good luck on the case,Ē she added before ending the call.

Yes, luckóCharles and I would definitely need it. Weíd also need a certain pair of talking animals to get over their hang-ups to help us figure out some new leads. Otherwise, we might as well sign Brockís sentence now, because we seemed to be out of any other reasonable avenues for his defense.

Perhaps Iíd stop by the grocery store and pick up some fresh shrimp as a way to bribe Octo-Cat into spending more time with Yo-Yo. Hereís hoping my feline friend loved shrimp more than he hated dogs.

Chapter Six

TUESDAY

I awoke the next morning with a growing sense of dread lodged right between my lungs. The weight of knowing that Brockís freedom seemed to now rest squarely on my shoulders made it difficult to catch my breath.

I couldnít let himóor Charlesódown. I also wanted to find the real culprit and secure justice for poor Yo-Yo, who still had no idea his owners were even dead.

Despite my vow to never come to the office before nine in the morning, I sucked it up and headed to the firm almost as soon as I could string a coherent thought together.

As expected, only Bethany had arrived before me. Iíd never understand why she insisted on showing up so early every single day, but at least she looked happy to see me when I knocked on her office door to say hello.

The cloying and heavy scent of citrus combined with freshly brewed coffee to create a nauseating aroma as I breezed into her office. Bethany may have become a softer, kinder person lately, but the one thing that would never change was her obsession with essential oils. Hey, everyone had their weird little things. I definitely wasnít in any place to judge.

Besides, Bethany was my own personal hero these days.

After I got electrocuted by the old office coffee maker, she brought in a Keurig machine, which she kept in her private space rather than the common area. Honestly, I was still terrified of that horrible appliance in all its forms butómuch to my surprise and reliefóBethany had kindly taken to brewing me a cup each morning. I never needed to ask or to work up the courage to press thebrew button on my own.

Thus her having become one of my favorite people lately.

ďGood morning,Ē she said with an alert smile on her fair face. My guess was sheíd already imbibed two to three cups before I even arrived. ďYouíre here early.Ē

ďYeah,Ē I said with a tiny wave hello. ďSeeing if I can help Charles with the Brock Calhoun case.Ē

Bethany rose to approach the coffee maker, and I was so happy I almost hugged her right then and there. Bethany and I were slowly becoming friends, but making physical contact would probably be more of a detriment than a boon to our relationship. She usually avoided hugs, handshakes, and the like whenever she could. Maybe it was something about being the only female associate at our firm, or maybe it was just her personality. Whatever the case, I knew better than to judge the woman responsible for caffeinating me five days out of seven.

ďYou know,Ē she said as she popped a morning blend cup into the machine. ďI was really surprised Thompson assigned such a prominent case to our newest associate. Honestly, itís one he should have handled himself.Ē

I shrugged.ďMaybe everyone else was too busy to add to their workloads right now. We have been getting a lot of business ever sinceÖ you know.Ē

She took a couple steps closer to me and lowered her voice.ďI know butóand please just keep this between you and meóI had time to help, and Iím pretty sure Derek and some of the others could have made time, too.Ē

ďWhat are you trying to say?Ē

Bethany dropped her voice even lower.ďIím saying that I think Thompson gave this case to Charles on purpose, knowing heíll probably lose it.Ē

ďAnd?Ē I may have been awake enough to drag myself to the office, but my real thinking ability wouldnít kick in until after Iíd drained my first cup of joe.

ďWell, think about it. Charles is brand new to the firm. When he loses what amounts to a more or less impossible case, itíll be easy for Thompson to fire him and move that stigma away from the firm.Ē

ďLike a sacrificial lamb?Ē Even as I questioned her, I knew Bethany was right. Our senior partner definitely wasnít above such underhanded tactics.

Her eyes glowed an unnatural hue as she nodded.ďExactly. That way Thompson gets to keep enjoying our newfound wave of success without having to worry about one notorious trial dragging him down.Ē

That all made perfect sense, but how could Thompson be so sure Charles would lose? He was giving his everything and then some to this case. He could still win it in the end. I raised an eyebrow and asked,ďBut what if Charles wins?Ē

ďEven better,Ē Bethany answered, grabbing my coffee cup from the machine and placing it directly into my outstretched hands. ďThen heíll get to brag about how his firm won the unwinnable, how he discovered Charles almost straight out of law school and recognized his talent instantly. Weíll become even more popular, and Thompson will be able to pad his retirement account nicely.Ē

ďWell, thatís super fun,Ē I muttered before taking an appreciative sip from my mug.

ďIsnít it though?Ē Bethany nodded as she paced across the office to return to her desk. ďI think itís nice youíre helping Charles. Heís going to need every last bit he can get.Ē

Bethany and I chatted about other things for a few minutes, but my mind stayed on what I had just learned about Charles. Did he know his job was on the line, too? Is that why he so badly wanted to win, or did it still come down to his belief in Brockís innocence?

Whatever the case, it wasnít fair for Thompson to move him clear across the country only to set him up to fall on the sword at the first available opportunity. I needed to help him win this case, and not just because the office would feel sad and empty without himÖ

But also because it was the right thing to do.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

By nine oí clock, the rest of our colleagues had joined us at the office. I snuck into Mr. Thompsonís office after giving him a few minutes to settle in.

ďGood morning, sir,Ē I said, clasping my hands in front of me and offering my most ingratiating smile. ďI have a request if youíre not too busy.Ē

Our lone partner glanced up from his computer monitor and looked at me briefly before returning his attention to whatever was displayed on the screen before him.ďGo ahead,Ē he said in a way that suggested he would rather not deal with me just then. Still, I had to get his okay before going forward with my plan, whether or not he was in a good mood that day.

ďIíd like to devote my week to helping Longfellow with the Calhoun case,Ē I informed him bravely. While our previous partner, Mr. Fulton, had called everyone by their first names, Mr. Thompson only used last names. It was cold and impersonal and part of what made him so scary.

He dropped his hands from the keyboard and raised his eyes to mine, at last giving me his full attention.ďWhy?Ē

Luckily, Iíd spent the last half hour or so preparing for this conversation and was ready with my response. ďLongfellow is doing a great job, but his job is being made more difficult by the media. More specifically, by my mother. Adding me to this case will get her to ease up some while we work out a defense. It could be the difference between a win and a loss for Thompson and Associates on this case.Ē

My boss studied me for a moment before offering a quick nod of agreement.ďGood thinking, Russo.Ē

ďThank you, sir,Ē I said, ready to book it out of there and head straight to Charlesís office to share the good news.

ďNext week you return to business as usual, though,Ē Thompson called after me. And, yes, that was fine, seeing as we really only had until Friday to figure out our defense, anyway.

I ran into Charles just as he was leaving the office he shared with Derek.

ďLeaving so soon?Ē I asked, unable to hide my enthusiasm at officially being assigned to the case.

ďYup. Iím meeting with a client at ten,Ē he informed me as we walked together toward the door.

ďIf itís Brock Calhoun, then Iím coming, too.Ē

He paused to study me, and those same worried wrinkles from the other day stretched across his forehead.

ďThompson assigned me to the case for the week,Ē I explained with a flippant wave. ďNow letís go.Ē

Charles shrugged but didnít argue when I followed him out to his car and climbed into the passenger seat.

ďSince I guess youíre on the case now,Ē he told me while navigating us toward the state prison where Brock was being held on remand. ďIíll share the discovery with you when we get back to the office.Ē He bit his lip and hesitated. It looked as if heíd missed a shave or two, and I hoped my help wasnít too late to keep him from coming undone.

ďWhat?Ē I asked, eager to know what had him so upset now.

Charles risked a quick glance at me before returning his gaze to the road ahead.ďItís pretty gruesome. The crime scene photos, I mean. Are you going to be okay looking at them?Ē

ďIíll be fine,Ē I said, even though I wasnít so sure. I hadnít struggled much with blood and gore before. Heck, Iíd even completed a phlebotomy certification in my early days of college. But something about being tied up as a hostage and almost offed by a crazed killer a few months backhad made me more squeamish than Iíd once been.

I needed to suck it up for Charles, for Brock, and for Yo-Yo, though. They were all counting on me.

ďA fresh set of eyes could help,Ē I offered, secretly picturing the worst in my mindís eye.

Okay, time to change the subject before I had a mini freak out.

ďWhat are we meeting Brock about today?Ē I asked, feigning calm.

ďNormal attorney-client stuff,Ē Charles answered rather unhelpfully. ďI can introduce the two of you and let him know how you helped to get the news story delayed, but I really donít have anything else to tell him at this point.Ē

ďThen why go? Why not call with a quick update?Ē

Charles sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.ďIím hoping he might have something new to tell me, something to help with the defense.Ē

I sighed, too. While I was happy for the chance to meet Brock and decide for myself whether I believed he did it, I doubted heíd suddenly remember the one detail that could save him after weeks of sitting in prison. Charles didnít need to hear me express my doubts, though. I was sure he had his own.

It also seemed Iíd recently become the unofficial case optimist. If I started acting defeated now, we wouldnít stand a chance of securing an innocent ruling.

When we arrived outside the state prison, I was surprised by how small and unassuming it appeared from the outside. Maybe I was expecting a giant, sprawling facility containing watchtower turrets with snipers and barbed wire fencing that stretched two stories high, but that definitely wasnít what I got. The concrete-faced building looked like something you might spot in a strip mallónot like a secure detention center for nearly a thousand inmates accused of everything from drug possession to murder.

ďYou going to be okay?Ē Charles asked, pulling the car into the visitorsí parking lot.

ďIím fine.Ē I unbuckled my seat belt with shaky hands while keeping my eyes focused straight ahead. ďLetís get this over with.Ē

The inside of the prison felt much closer to what Iíd expectedóthe guards, the metal detectors, the holding cells. Frankly, the whole scene gave me the creeps. I followed Charles wordlessly as we were guided into one of the private attorney-client rooms. Once there, we had to wait several minutes before Brock was brought out to join us.

There, our client stood with shackles securing his hands and feet and an unbecoming beige uniform that washed out his light complexion. His dark hair appeared overgrown and poorly washed. His gray eyes were deep-set, with heavy circles painted beneath them.

When he saw us waiting for him, he smiled and ducked his head politely. Even though he was easily six foot four and had sizeable muscles to round out his physique, he seemed so small standing there before us. And then I felt it, that same gut feeling Iíd teased Charles about just one day earlier. It was as if a thunder bolt of understanding struck me in my very core.

Boom!

Just like that, I knew for sure that Brock Calhoun didnít belong in this awful place and that he couldnít possibly have murdered those people.

Brock turned toward me askance, waiting for an introduction perhaps. He smiled hesitantly, politely, un-killer-ly.

ďHi, Brock,Ē I said after clearing my throat. ďMy nameís Angie, and Iím going to help win your case.Ē

Chapter Seven

Just as I feared, Brock had nothing new to share with us during our visit. That meant it was up to me, Charles, and the pets to find a new angle for his defenseóand finding a new angle meant finding the real murderer.

Was I scared? Oh, yeah.

Last time Iíd gone head-to-head with a killer I almost ended up dead myself. For now, Iíd try my best not to think about that. When all this was over, though, Iíd definitely be booking some therapy sessions.

Back at the office, Charles handed me a thick folder filled past bursting with the prosecutionís discovery, all the facts and files they believed would prove Brock guilty of the Hayesís murders.

ďWow,Ē I said, letting out a low whistle as I flipped through the many, many pages it contained. ďThey sure have a lot.Ē

Charles groaned and slumped into the chair beside me.ďYeah, they really do.Ē

I only looked at the crime scene photos for a few seconds before pushing them aside. The gruesome pictures showed that poor Bill and Ruth had not died a gentle death. The deep crimson puddles of blood that pooled around their heads made my stomach churn.

Who would do such a horrible thing? And, perhaps even more importantly,why?

Charles returned to his desk for a moment. When he came back to our shared workspace, he placed a much thinner folder on the table before me.ďOur discovery,Ē he said.

ďOh.Ē He had a few prior cases and character witnesses for Brock, but not much else to go by. It definitely didnít look good. ďWho gave these statements?Ē I asked, holding up the character testimonies.

Charles grabbed the thin bunch of papers and described each one as he placed them back before me.ďHis sister, a few previous clients of his handyman business, an old girlfriend.Ē

ďHave you talked to anyone who knew the victims?Ē

He shook his head.ďJust Brock and his sister.Ē

ďWhat about the witnesses for the prosecution?Ē I asked, returning to the thick discovery folder and pulling out several pages of testimony from inside.

Charles didnít even bother reaching for these papers. Instead he shrugged and explained, ďThey prefer not to talk to our side pre-trial.Ē

ďWell, thatís convenient,Ē I grumbled, blowing out a big puff of air that ruffled my bangs.

No one seemed to be playing fair hereónobody except for Charles, that was. And this fact put us at a huge disadvantage.

Charles could take the high road all he wanted. I knew perfectly well that sometimes back roads were the only way to reach your destination, and I was definitely not opposed to taking them.ďOkay, so here me out on thisÖ What if they donít know theyíre talking to us?Ē I suggested with a sly grin.

He crossed his arms and shook his head.ďEveryone knows Iím the attorney on Brockís case. Even if I wanted to be sneaky, I couldnít. And, no, I donít want to be sneaky. I want to win this case and clear Brockís name fair and square.Ē

ďOh, sure. I understand,Ē I acquiesced quickly. ďForget I said anything.Ē

Brock and I spent the next several hours reviewing both sets of discovery and planning our cross-examination of the witnesses. He didnít need to know that Iíd secretly made a list of people to visit outside of office hours. No one would recognize me as being part of the case.

After all, few people ever paid any real attention to paralegals.

I could use that to my advantage to learn more about the victims and figure out who might have wanted them dead. Nothing needed to come out in court unless I found our smoking gunóor, in this particular case, our bloody hammer.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

ďAre you ready, Nan?Ē I asked when I showed up to collect her for our after-hours private investigation. Because Iíd arrived at work early that day, I was also able to sneak out a bit early. This gave us just enough time to stop by Bill Hayesís former place of employment and see what new information we could learn about him and any potential murder suspects that might be lurking around his office.

ďOh, yeah,Ē Nan drawled with a vaguely Southern accent. ďLetís do this.Ē

Have I mentioned that my grandmother used to be a huge star on Broadway? She acted in the occasional community theater production now, but still jumped at any opportunity to dust off her under-utilized talents. Thatís why Iíd invited her to tag along with me tonight.

The late Mr. Hayes had worked at a place called Bayside Printing Company. Most of their jobs involved printing promotional materials for the many businesses scattered across Blueberry Bay, but a quick search on their website informed us that they also helped independent authors and micro-presses publish their books. This gave us the perfect excuse to stop in for a chat.

You see, for years, Nan had been telling anyone who would listen that she had a book in heróand more specifically, an autobiography. Sheíd even decided upon a title despite the fact she had yet to write a single page.

ďItís calledFrom Broadway to Blueberry Bay: The Life and Times of Dorothy Loretta Lee, and I guarantee itís the most fabulous piece of printing that will ever come across your desk,Ē she told the printing manager with a big jazz hands finish.

I studied the unassuming middle-aged man sitting across from us. His name was Mr. Weber, and with his thinning hairline and well-ironed shirt tucked neatly into his pants, he definitely didnít look like a murderer. He smiled at Nan with genuine interest as she regaled him with all the stories of her fake youth growing up in the South.

ďIt truly sounds fascinating,Ē he said, mirroring her accent.

I had to fight hard not to crack up laughing at them both as the spoke chummily in their matching set of fake accents.

ďLet me run some numbers so we can get settled on a quote,Ē he said as he made a big show of pulling his keyboard toward him on the desk.

ďLovely,Ē Nan said, folding her hands in her lap.

Mr. Weberís smile didnít leave his face as he clicked a series of boxes on his computer screen, pausing occasionally to ask Nan questions like how many pages her book would contain, what trim size she needed, if she wanted cream or white paper, paperback or hardcover.

Nan didnít hesitate one bit as she flawlessly trotted out each response to Mr. Weberís apparent satisfaction. It made me wonder if perhaps she was really serious about this autobiography despite the fact she hadnít yet begun to write it.

Well, I would just have to make the time to figure out how I could be more supportive of her dream later. Right now, the investigation needed my full attention.

ďSoÖĒ I said, drawing out the syllable until Mr. Weber turned his attention to me.ďIsnít this the place where that poor Bill Hayes worked before he was so tragically murdered?Ē

Mr. Weber turned red and sweat began to bead on his forehead at the mere mention of the victimís name. ďYes,Ē he said with poorly concealed rage. ďNo one deserves to be killed like that, but especially not Bill.Ē

ďSuch a terrible thing that happened,Ē Nan said, patting his hand and offering a sympathetic nod.

A calm washed over Mr. Weber following Nanís touch. ďBill was the best employee I had and was even poised to take over for me when I retire next year,Ē he explained with a frown. ďI guess that wonít be happening now.Ē

ďThatís too bad,Ē Nan said while I silently thanked my lucky stars that Iíd decided to bring her with me. ďI can tell you work very hard. You deserve a break after so many years of devoting yourself to the company.Ē

He shook his head sadly.ďBill was the very same. Everyone in the office loved him. All the customers, too. There were so many times a client would come to us with a crazy rush deadline, and Bill wouldnít even think twice before offering to stay late and put in extra hours to make sure they got their order on time.Ē

ďIt sounds like he was a wonderful asset to Bayside Printing Company,Ē I added with a reassuring nod, not wanting to be completely outdone by Nan.

Mr. Weber kept his eyes glued to Nan, though, as he sighed and said,ďI still canít wrap my head around it. What did that handyman have against Bill? And to kill his wife, too? I hope they put him away for a long, long time.Ē

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably as Mr. Weber forced a smile back on his face and turned his computer monitor toward us.

ďAnyway,Ē he said after clearing his throat twice. ďAs you can see, youíre looking at a cost of $2,500 to $6,700, depending on how many copies youíd like to print for your first run.Ē

Nan nodded.ďWhat would you recó?Ē Suddenly, she broke into a terrible coughing fit, unable to speak another word as she clutched at her chest dramatically.

ďExcuse me,Ē she croaked out once the coughs had subsided. ďMr. Weber, would it be possible for me to have a cup of water?Ē

He popped to his feet quicker than I might have expected a man of his girth and stature to be able.ďSure, thatís no problem at all. Excuse me. Iíll be right back.Ē

As soon as heíd rushed out of the office, Nan began rummaging through the papers on his desk and snapping bursts of pictures with her cell phone camera.

ďWhat are you doing?Ē I whispered.

Nan didnít pause as she ground out her answer. ďSeeing if we can find anything heís not telling us. When he comes back with my water, excuse yourself to use the bathroom and see if you can find anything in the main office.Ē

Wow, my nan made an excellent private investigator. Perhaps Iíd have to include her on my cases more often. Then again, this was only my second case to date and already sheíd proved indispensable to both. Hey, Iíd take help wherever and from whomever I could get it, just so long as nothing I did ever put my dear nan in any danger.

When heavy footsteps clopped their way back down the hall, Nan slipped her phone back into her purse just in time to greet Mr. Weber with a gracious smile.ďMy hero,Ē she cooed as he handed her the cup of water.

ďIf youíll excuse me,Ē I said, rising to my feet. ďI just need to use the bathroom real quick.Ē

ďTurn left, then itís the second door on the right,Ē Mr. Weber muttered without looking up to see me off. Heíd fallen under Nanís spell as so many did, and I couldnít fault him for thatóespecially since it would make my investigation that much easier.

ďThanks,Ē I muttered before clicking the door shut behind me. Even though Nan was obviously an old pro, I myself was still new to this whole snooping business and didnít really know where I should be looking. Somehow, I doubted Bayside Printing Company would just leave their financials or security tapes in plain view. Come to think of it, a place like Bayside probably didnít even have security tapes, although if they did that would make this whole thing so much easier.

Man, I wished Octo-Cat was here with me. Where I was gangly and untalented, my cat was an expert at sticking his nose in othersí business. Heck,snooping might as well have been one of his middle names. With such a long list of them, it might actually be hidden in there without me knowing. He even put Nan to shame with his immense spying skills and the zero remorse he showed over exercising them. Maybe I could channel some of that nowÖ

Now, if I were Octo-Cat, where would I look first?

I didnít get a chance to find out, because a moment later I found that I wasnít alone in the main office. The tall, slim woman who sat silently in the waiting area perked up upon noticing me.

ďCan I help you?Ē I asked hesitantly. It seemed rude to just ignore her, even though I hadnít a clue how I could actually help her with anything of consequence.

ďIs Mr. Weber in?Ē she asked, tucking a fluffy red curl behind her ear and offering me a friendly smile. ďI was hoping to grab my order before he closed up shop for the night.Ē

ďUm, sure. Iíll just go tell him youíre here,Ē I said, turning back toward the office in defeat.

I sure hoped Nan was having better luck with Mr. Weber than Iíd had out here. Or that she had captured something valuable on her camera during her sleuthing micro-burst.

Otherwise, it looked like Bayside Printing Company might be a big, fat dead end. All weíd managed to do was waste value time.

Wednesday was almost upon us, and we werenít any closer to finding the Hayesís real killer. Might tomorrow turn out to be our lucky day?

Oh, I sure hoped so.

Chapter Eight

WEDNESDAY

The next morning I told Charles about the reconnaissance Nan and I had attempted at the Bayside Printing Company the night before.

ďI knew you were up to something,Ē he said before widening his eyes and asking, ďDid you find anything that can help?Ē

I caught him up on the little things weíd learned, like that Bill was well-liked at his job and slated for a promotion the following year. In the end, we really hadnít gained anything more than that. Most of Nanís pictures had turned out blurry, and the few we could see clearly showed nothing useful.

I tapped my pen on the desk and chewed my lower lip.ďAre you sure that none of the prosecutionís witnesses would be willing to talk to us before the trial?Ē

ďIím sure,Ē Charles answered with a weary sigh. ďThey all saidno. Well, except for one, but I havenít been able to get a hold of her despite trying to call multiple times.Ē He shrugged and took a sip from his coffee cup before adding, ďIím not sure sheíll be taking the stand, anyway.Ē

ďOh? Who might that be?Ē I leaned in closer, eager to hear more. Had Charles been sitting on this lead the whole time? I wished he would have said something earlier.

He didnít seem to think it was a big deal as he casually informed me, ďMichelle Hayes, the daughter.Ē

My heart quickened at this revelation. Could Michelle be the missing key to unlock the perfect defense?

ďDonít get so excited,Ē Charles warned me. ďIím telling you, sheís all but impossible to get a hold of.Ē

ďJust like this case is impossible to defend?Ē I quipped, shooting him a wry grin. Suddenly, a dark thought occurred to me. ďYou donít think sheís not returning your calls becauseshe did it, do you?Ē

ďAbsolutely no way. She loved her parents. They were payingbeaucoupbucks to put her through private college, and she still came home almost every weekend to visit even though her school is a good three-hour drive from here.Ē

ďI thought you couldnít get a hold of her?Ē I asked suspiciously. He seemed awfully quick to jump to Michelleís defense. Was it possible he wasnít sharing everything he knew with me? And, if so, why?

Charles seemed unperturbed by my question, and he held his coffee firmly between both hands as he said,ďThat was in the statement she gave the police.Ē

ďWhatís her number?Ē I asked, crossing the office to grab his landline. This week, Derek had graciously agreed to switch workspaces with me so that Charles and I could have unfettered access to each other while I assisted on Brockís case. It definitely made things easier.

Until Charles yanked the phone right out of my hand.

ďItís way too early in the morning to be calling a nineteen-year-old student. You think sheís going to want to talk to us if we wake her from a dead sleep?Ē

I cringed at his choice of words, but ultimately agreed.ďLater then.Ē

ďDo you think we could try the animals again today?Ē Charles asked with a similar puppy dog expression to the one Iíd seen on Yo-Yoís face when weíd first met.

ďSure. Why not?Ē I answered. We had to do something. Maybe I could put in a call to Michelle when he wasnít paying attention.

ďOkay,Ē Charles said before letting a relieved whoosh of air escape from his lungs. ďLetís go.Ē

ďNot so fast,Ē I called after him.

Heíd already grabbed his things and made it halfway out the door. Talk about eager. Charles turned back to me, properly chastised. ďWhatís wrong?Ē

ďWe need a plan first.Ē I returned to my seat and flipped to a new page on my bright yellow legal pad.

Charles sat back down, too, but began to bounce both legs nervously.

When I was sure I had his attention, I continued,ďWe need to treat the animals just like we would any other witness, and we need to approach Yo-Yo as a vulnerable witness. You saw the trauma he went through at the mere suggestion his owners might be hurt. We canít upset him like that again or he may close off to us completely. Also, if we push too hard, I worry it could negatively impact his long-term mental health.Ē

Charles thought about this for a moment. By the time he spoke again, his nervous bouncing had ceased.ďDo you think Yo-Yo saw the murder?Ē

ďHe definitely could have seen it,Ē I said with a nod.

Understanding sparked within his pine-colored eyes.ďHe saw it, and then he suppressed the memory to protect himself.Ē

ďThatís what Iím thinking.Ē I brought the pen to my mouth but stopped short before I began to gnaw at the cap. It was a nervous habit of mineóa disgusting habitóI definitely didnít want to trot out in front of Charles.

Luckily, he didnít seem to notice. ďSo how do we get him to acknowledge these hidden memories in time to save Brock?Ē

ďWe donít,Ē I said, recapping the pen and placing it back onto the desk. ďI think Yo-Yo can still help even without remembering what happened or knowing that his owners were killed. I mean, who knows a person better than their dog? He saw their daily routines for years. He would definitely know if anything had changed shortly before their deaths.Ē

ďSmart,Ē Charles said with a nod while my heart secretly swelled at the compliment. ďDo you want to take the lead on the questioning?Ē

ďYes, I think I do.Ē I could talk to animals for a reason. At first I thought helping Octo-Cat solve Ethelís murder had just been a fluke, but more and more it seemed like this was my calling: to uncover justice one fluffy critter at a time.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

A couple hours later, weíd prepared an exhaustive list of questions and prompts, and even role-played how a conversation with Yo-Yo might go. That only left one variable for which we hadnít properly accountedóOcto-Cat.

His mood changed so regularly, it would take far too long to draw out the various scenarios we might be faced with while trying to secure his compliance. Also, I was too embarrassed to admit to Charles how much I let my cat walk all over me on a daily basis. Instead, we planned to just show up at my house and tell Octo-Cat what we expected of him, plain and simple.

Oh, heíd definitely find a way to punish me for it, but I could handle a little cat puke or a fresh claw wound if it meant saving an innocent man from a life in prison and protecting a sweet terrierís innocence.

We stopped off at Cliffside Apartments to grab Yo-Yo, then made a quick detour to the pet store where we purchased a leash and harness for Octo-Cat. Unfortunately, the only get-up they had in his size was bright neon green with a series of fluorescent bones patterned along the leash.

This would make it that much harder to convince him to wear it, but we didnít have time to stop off at multiple stores just to assuage my catís vanity.

Sure enough, Octo-Cat baulked when presented with his shiny new walking gear.ďSo let me get this straight. You not only want me to spend more time talking to Dum-Dum while you make heart eyes at Upchuck, but you also expect me to wear this monstrosity?Maíam, I am a cat, not some common, mouth-breathing dog.Ē

I crossed my legs and sat down on the floor in front of him, arranging my face in the best approximation of puppy-dog eyes any human could hope to muster.ďPlease.Itís just for a little while, and I wouldnít ask unless it was really important.Ē

He flicked his tail a few times before responding with,ďSo youíre asking then? That means I have a choice. I chooseno.Ē

I gave Charles the signal we had discussed, knowing in advance that it would most likely prove necessary. I watched as he slowly slipped his hands into a pair of oven mitts and tiptoed toward Octo-Cat from behind.

ďI want you to knowÖĒ I told my soon-to-be furious furr-enemy. ďI was hoping it wouldnít come to this.Ē

Octo-Catís eyes widened with the knowledge of my betrayal at the same time I shouted, ďNow!Ē

A furious cry ripped through the house as Charles scooped my cat into his arms, clutching him tightly and very much against his will.

ďUnhand me, Upchuck!Ē he screamed as he swiped his claws in any and every direction. ďI will not be disrespected like this!Ē

ďShh,Ē I said in a futile attempt to coax him into a belated agreement as I worked his arms through the harness.ďYou do this for me, help us find who killed Yo-Yoís owners, and I will owe you a favor. It can be any favor you want. I swear. Please just help us. We need you. And, if youíll recall, it wasnít so long ago I risked my life to help you get justice for Ethel.Ē

At these words, all the fight drained from his furry little body, and Octo-Cat sighed heavily.ďFine,Ē he growled as I clipped the harness under his belly.

Charles set him back on the ground, and Octo-Cat took a few tipsy steps. His fur stuck out in various directions from the struggle, and he twitched spasmodically while keeping his posture low and defensive.

ďYou owe me a big favor,Ē he shouted in my direction. ďThe biggest favor youíve ever given anyone in all your nine lives!Ē

I nodded, eager to put this confrontation to an end. Iíd braced myself for a much bigger fight than heíd given me, and things could still go south if I wasnít careful. ďYouíve got it,Ē I promised. ďAnything.Ē

Octo-Cat let out a maniacal chuckle that made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, too.

ďWhat?Ē I asked, my voice suddenly shaky and unsure.

ďOh, youíll see. Youíll all see!Ē He swept a paw toward Charles, which only increased my worryóbut my crazy catís demands could be dealt with later. Thinking of which, I should also probably put parent controls on the TV later to discourage this kind of crazed villainous behavior. Rightnow, though, we had to move on to the next phase of our plan, just in case he suddenly changed his mind and retracted his offer to help.

ďLetís get out of here while we still can,Ē I told Charles while bending down to clip the leash to Octo-Catís new harness.

ďFully unnecessary,Ē the tabby grumbled. ďWhat makes you assume Iíd run away? Remember, I chose you despite your many,many shortcomings.Ē

ďItís more for your safety than your compliance,Ē I explained.

Even if Octo-Cat fully intended to stick with us on this trip, he had a tendency to become a different cat from the moment he stepped paw outside. Inside the house, he was a cool intellectual who freely offered an unsolicited running commentary on my life. Once he got out into the wide open, though, he became flighty, unpredictable, and highly excitable. For all I knew, he could spot a butterfly and run three miles straight before realizing we werenít right there chasing it with him.

Yes, as annoying as he could sometimes be, I loved my cat and wanted to keep him with me for many years to come.

Unfortunately for him, that meant he needed to wear the harness.

I only hoped the favor he requested of me would be something I could legally and physically obtain for him. You just never knew with this guy. Thatís part of what made living with him so exciting most days.

Then there were days like todayÖ

I knew the worst of his agitation was yet to come.

Grabbing a thick, long-sleeved jacket from the closet, I took a deep breath and led our motley party toward Charlesís waiting car.

It was time for phase two.

Chapter Nine

We arrived in the Hayesís old neighborhood less than ten minutes later, and Yo-Yo immediately perked up upon taking in the familiar sights and smells. He barked, howled, whimpered, and whined, all before we even managed to find a place to park the car.

ďWhatís he saying?Ē I asked Octo-Cat, who sat velcroed to my lap in the passenger seat. Since I wasnít driving this time, Iíd had the blessedly bright idea to bring a cushion to place between his claws and me. Never before had I enjoyed such a nice car ride with my agoraphobic cat.

Octo-Cat, of course, was still less than thrilled to be in the moving vehicle. It took a few moments before he answered.ďHeís calling out to his mom and dad and letting them know heís come home,Ē he explained between nervous pants.

ďOh, thatís really sad,Ē I responded after offering a quick translation for Charles. Despite the obvious seriousness of the situation, speaking to each other like this reminded me of the old schoolyard game of telephone. How warped did Yo-Yoís words become by the time they finally reached Charles?

ďDefinitely a vulnerable witness,Ē Charles agreed with my earlier assessment while pulling up to the curb and putting the car in park. ďPoor guy.Ē

ďYou still havenít told me the plan,Ē Octo-Cat said as I helped him untangle his claws from the cushion and placed him gently on the pavement outside.

Charles grabbed Yo-Yoís leash and came around the car to stand beside us. The excited terrier strained so hard against his leash, he began to wheeze.

ďYup. Dum-Dum is definitely a much better name for this dog,Ē Octo-Cat said with a contented grin, clearly feeling like himself again now that he was back on solid ground. ďUpchuck suits the human, too.Ē

ďYes, yes, youíre a great nicknamer,Ē I said to placate him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes now that he knew what the gesture meant. Instead, I chose to answer his earlier question. ďThe plan is to walk around the neighborhood and see what Yo-Yo can tell us about his life before. Something he says could give us a clue as to who besides Brock might have committed the murder.Ē

ďWouldnít it be easier if you just told Dum-Dum the truth about what happened and asked him to help?Ē Octo-Cat almost seemed as if he was trying to help, but I suspected the real goal was to end his involvement with our case as soon as felinely possible.

ďNo!Ē I shouted at the same time Yo-Yo screeched and began to twist at the end of the leash. Any passerby would have thought we were torturing the poor Yorkie. Thankfully, we had the street to ourselves for the moment.

ďDum-Dum says he wants to know the truth,Ē Octo-Cat explained with a bored expression and a yawn.

ďUgh, stop making things harder than they have to be,Ē I scolded him. ďAnd stop being such an elitist. His name is Yo-Yo, and you know it.Ē

ďYes, Iím the one making things harder here,Ē my cat said, widening his eyes in the direction of the neon-colored leash that tied me and him together. He let out an exasperated huff and looked away.

Iíd had more than enough of his complaints, especially since Yo-Yo was still panickingóand doing so loudly. Dropping to my haunches, I stared the obstinate tabby down and said, ďIf you want your return favor, youíll do things the way I want them done. You hear?Ē

He cringed.ďSay it. Donít spray it. And you donít have to shout, either.Ē

Okay, that was it. I would definitely be restricting his TV access. It was bad enough when he was watching educational cartoons all hours of the day, but now heíd turned into a snarky teenageróand that was just too much when combined with his already snarky feline temperament. Besides, he needed to learn that his actions had consequences.

Ugh.Here I was still in my twenties and yet somehow also a single mother to a whiny teenager. I owed Nan and my parents a huge apology for all the irritating know-it-all things Iíd done as a teenage brat myself.

ďAre we agreed?Ē I asked pointedly as I stood up and Charles bent down to pick up Yo-Yo so that he would stop hurting himself.

ďFine,Ē Octo-Cat spat out. ďWhat do you want me to tell him?Ē

I put on a huge smile to show Octo-Cat how pleased I was about his cooperation. I knew better than to call him a good boy in front of mixed company, even though he loved hearing those words when it was just the two of us at home.ďTell him his mom and dad are away on a trip right now, but weíre going to take a walk around his neighborhood together because weíd love to hear about all his favorite memories with them.Ē

ďYou do realize this is going to be torture for me, right?Ē

ďYouíll live,Ē I shot back.

Octo-Cat conveyed my message to Yo-Yo, who briefly stopped panting and slipped his tongue back inside his mouth. A few seconds later, his enthusiasm returned, and he struggled to break free of Charlesís grasp once more.

ďReady?Ē Charles asked.

When I nodded, he placed the terrier on the ground, and the four of us began our walk around the neighborhood with Yo-Yo proudly leading the way.

ďDo I have to translate everything he says?Ē Octo-Cat whined less than a minute into our jaunt.

ďYes, everything,Ē I answered.

Charles stayed oddly silent as the animals and I conversed. On the rare occasion we ran into another walker, he spoke, too, so that I would appear at least somewhat less insane. I was still walking a very angry-looking cat on a leash, after all.

ďCareful, he bites,Ē Charles warned a pair of blue-haired ladies in track suits when it looked like they were going to try to pet Octo-Cat.

Octo-Cat hissed and arched his back for good measure, then laughed when they quickened their pace and power-walked right on by us.ďThat was kind of fun,Ē he said as he shook it out.

ďAwesome, so glad youíre enjoying yourself. Now, what is Yo-Yo saying?Ē I demanded. I was glad Octo-Cat had found a way to make the experience more palatable, but we needed him to stay focused on the entire reason for this trip in the first place.

The tabby sighed and twitched his whiskers and moved his ears back and forth.ďLet me just turn on my Dum-Dum receptorsÖ There.Ē

ďHaha, youíre hilarious. Now stop with the stand-up comedy and start with the translation already.Ē

ďFiiiiiiiine,Ē he drew that single word out for at least seven syllables before finally doing as he was told. He sighed and said,ďWell, that rock we just passed a few paces back, thatís one of his favorite places to pee. Once he saw a squirrel crossing the road here, and it ran so fast he couldnít catch up. Birds like to sit in that tree over there. He also enjoys peeing there. Thereís usually a nest every spring. The kids who live in that house up ahead like to run through the sprinklers in summer, and sometimes they invite him to playÖĒ

I was starting to get his hesitation about translatingeverything Yo-Yo said. It all came out so fast there was no way I could relay it to Charles. I offered him an apologetic glance before asking Octo-Cat,ďDo you think you could ask him some questions for me?Ē

He just kept walking without so much as looking at me.

I took his silence as agreement.ďAsk him if he likes all the people who live in this neighborhood.Ē

ďHe says, Ďyes, very much,í then he told me about the time he saw two red cars in a row right on this block.Ē

I needed to keep both of them talking, but I also needed to keep them on topic.ďWere Bill and Ruth particularly close to anyone in the area?Ē

ďApparently they liked everybody, and everybody liked them,Ē Octo-Cat relayed. I was beginning to wonder if our terrier friend might not be the most reliable of witnesses. It seemed he saw the best in everybodyóand every situation, too.

ďAnything yet?Ē Charles asked.

I shook my head and kicked at a pebble in our path.ďNo. Unless you count knowing all the best places to mark your territory along this block.Ē

Charles laughed, but I could tell he was at least a littleóand probablya lotódisappointed. I was just about to suggest we head back when Yo-Yo barked defensively. He stopped walking and grew stiff, pointing his nose to the next yard over.

ďWhat is it?Ē I asked my cat as excitement surged through my veins.

ďHe says thatís the bad lady. He wants her to go away.Ē

I followed Yo-Yoís gaze to the ďFor SaleĒ sign down the block. There, a blue and white notice announced that the property was being sold through Calhoun Realty, and a picture of Brock smiling beside his twin sister, Breanne, graced its countenance.

ďLady, right?Ē I asked carefully. ďNot man?Ē

ďDefinitely lady,Ē Octo-Cat concurred. ďHe said that she always shoved him into a closet whenever people came to visit and that made him sad and scared.Ē

ďHmm,I wonder if that could be the same closet that Bill and Ruthís bodies were found inside.Ē

Octo-Cat took a deep breath and turned toward Yo-Yo.

ďDonít translate that!Ē I shouted.

ďWhat are they saying?Ē Charles nudged by arm while wearing an expression of utter glee. ďDo we have a lead?Ē

I glanced from the sign to Yo-Yo and then to Charles.ďWell, the dog that likes everyone has a very negative impression of Breanne Calhoun. It seems we might need to pay her a little visit.Ē

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

As we walked back toward the car, Charles placed a call to Breanneóor at least he tried to get through to her.

ďStraight to voicemail,Ē he said with a frustrated groan.

ďText her?Ē I suggested.

Charles did, and we heard back from her almost right away. He handed me the phone, so I could read the message for myself:

Showing houses to a client. Everything okay?

I gave the phone back to Charles, who deftly composed his reply while speaking each word aloud to keep me in the loop.ďCan we meet about the case?Ē

A quick series of pings followed, and Charles relayed,ďShe canít tonight, but says we can stop in tomorrow any time after lunch.Ē

ďGreat,Ē I moaned. Tomorrow would be Thursday, and my momís story was set to run Friday. That sure didnít leave us much time, especially if Breanne turned out to be yet another false lead.

ďSo what now?Ē I asked.

ďIím kind of hungry,Ē Charles answered. ďDo you know of any place we can get a good lobster roll? Iíve been craving one ever since I moved here.Ē

I stopped dead in my tracks.ďAre you serious right now, Charles Longfellow, the Third?Ē

ďWhat? What did I do?Ē

ďYouíve been in Maine how long and havenít had one of our famous lobster rolls?Ē

He laughed.ďHave I mentioned Iím kind of a workaholic?Ē

ďThis wonít fly, Chuck,Ē I said, finally feeling comfortable using his nickname. ďSince youíve waited this long, not just any lobster roll will do. You need the best.Ē

ďIím definitely okay with that. Which place has the best?Ē

ďCímon, weíre headed to Misty Harbor and a little place called the Little Dog Diner. I just know youíre going to love it.Ē

Chapter Ten

Our dinner detour in the nearby town of Misty Harbor proved to be just the thing both Charles and I needed to ease our frazzled nerves. Of course, weíd stopped by my house to drop off Octo-Cat along the wayóa fact for which he was exceedingly gratefulóbut we brought Yo-Yo with us and dined at one of their outdoor tables that looked right onto the bay. We even got the pup a fish dinner of his own, which he devoured with aplomb. I saved a small portion in a to-go box for Octo-Cat as a thank you for his help that day, and also with the hope heíd go easy on me whenever he revealed the favor Iíd need to grant him in return.

Charles and I sat and chatted over lobster rolls until the sky began to darken and another restaurant-goer needed our table. I thought I recognized the woman with red, fluffy hair, who approached us with a smile and a request to take over our spot, but I couldnít quite place her. Anyway, it looked like she was busy, because the moment we gathered our things to leave, she plopped down and unpacked a laptop from her bag. That was before the busboy had even managed to clear away our plates.

I felt bad for her, having no one to dine with her on this beautiful Wednesday night, even though Iíd be home in my jammies fighting with Octo-Cat by now if it werenít for this impromptu outing with Charles.

ďSee,Ē he said, bumping my shoulder with his own. ďAt least I know not to mix work and lobster rolls.Ē

Work, ugh.Yes, our momentary break from the case had come to an end. There wasnít much time left now.

ďCan we try calling Michelle now?Ē I suggested as we made our way back to the parking lot.

ďSure, use my phone,Ē he said. ďI have her number saved just in case.Ē

I tried my luck but got sent straight to voicemail where a robotic voice informed me the mailbox was full and thus unable to take any new messages.ďSo much for that,Ē I said with a defeated sigh.

ďHey. At least tomorrowís a new day,Ē Charles told me with a wistful glance in my direction.

Yes, a new dayóand the last full one we had when it came to proving Brockís innocence and stopping my momís big expos?. Even with the animalsí help, this was not turning out as easy as Iíd hoped.

Could we possibly hope that a new day would make that any different?

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

THURSDAY

Charles and I put in a full morning at the firm before heading over to Calhoun Realty around noon. Heíd practically insisted we bring the animals with us, but fortunately I was able to convince him that we should meet with Breanne on our own before getting Octo-Cat and Yo-Yo involvedóespecially since we had no idea how the little dog would react to seeing Breanne in person. If she was our killer, all heck could break lose once Yo-Yoís memories came rushing back. And, judging by his reaction to seeing her printed image yesterday, that was a very real possibility.

We had to wait more than half an hour before Breanne ushered us back into her office. Even though I was sure she was a very busy person, this immediately soured her to me. One of my biggest pet peeves was people who didnít respect othersí time. Didnít she know her brotherís freedom was on the line here?

ďSorry about that,Ē the realtor said when at last she waved us back into her private office. Of course, she didnít seem the least bit apologetic despite her words to the contrary.

Charles and I sat in the matching pair of chairs in front of her desk and waited for Breanne to settle herself. She seemed rather put out by our arrival even though sheíd known we were coming.

ďHow is everything?Ē Charles asked, putting on the same drawn expression Iíd seen him use when speaking with Brock at the prison.

ďNot so hot,Ē she admitted, tossing her auburn hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. With her hair pulled back, I noticed how strongly she resembled her brother. I guess that made sense, them being twins and all, but still I found the similarity quite striking and a bit shocking. The only differences seemed to be the feminine curve to Breanneís face and the alternate hair color.

She pinched her features in dismay before jumping into a lengthy explanation.ďHalf the people I take out on showings donít even want a house. They just want to gossip about my brother. Or, worse, sometimes they want to chew me out on his behalf. Still, Iím taking as many extra hours as I can, because your firm doesnít come cheap. And, if Brock is convicted, I can pretty much kiss this realty goodbye.Ē Breanne laughed sarcastically and let out a long sigh. ďSo, yeah, not so hot.Ē

ďIím sorry to be intruding on your busy schedule,Ē Charles said. He didnít seem too apologetic, either. ďBut we need to explore every possible lead that comes before us, and your brother has asked that I keep you informed of all new developments for his case.Ē

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I tried my best not to stare at her with open hostility. If there was one thing the past few months had taught me, it was that I could trust what animals said far more than I could trust humans. For all we knew, Breanne might just be playing the part of the aggrieved sister, all the while framing her poor brother for a crime she committed.

The most convincing evidence I had to support my theory, of course, was the fact that the happy-go-lucky Yorkie who loved everyone became insecure and defensive when confronted with a mere picture of her.

What else could something like that mean?

I did wish Charles wouldíve been open to the idea of having Nan accompany us. She could have engaged in some of her grade-A sleuthing while Charles and I spoke directly to Breanne. Iíd only met this realtor minutes ago and already knew better than to trust a single word that came out of her glossy red mouth.

ďHas there been a new development?Ē Breanne asked, crossing her legs above the knee and staring Charles down. ďGo on, tell me about it, then.Ē

Charles glanced toward me and took a deep breath. Oh, gosh, I hope he wasnít planning on telling her about the talking animals or that we now suspected her because of them.

ďThis is Angie Russo,Ē he said as he gestured toward me.

I smiled and waggled my fingers at her awkwardly.

ďSheís Blueberry Bayís best paralegal and has recently signed on to help me defend your brotherís case.Ē

ďThatís all well and good,Ē Breanne said with a disappointed shake of her head. ďBut I hired a lawyer, not a paralegal. With as much as weíre paying, Mr. Thompson should really be defending this case himself. Please tell me you didnít request this meeting just to tell me you have a new assistant. That is not news I should have to pay $275 an hour to hear!Ē

ďDonít worry. This visit is off the clock,Ē Charles said with an ingratiating smile. Somehow it actually seemed to work, too.

ďOh?Ē the pretty realtor said, sitting a little higher in her chair. ďThen how can I help you today?Ē

ďIn reviewing the discovery with Angie here, we came up with a few new questions regarding the crime scene. Would it be possible for us to have another look around this afternoon?Ē

ďYou want to see the house again,Ē she said flatly. ďI guess thatís fine.Ē

ďGreat, thank you so much.Ē Charles rose to his feet and extended a hand across the desk. ďIf you could just give us the key then, weíll be on our way.Ē

ďNot so fast,Ē Breanne said as she stood up with him. ďThe State Licensing Board is already watching me like a hawk. Even if Brock gets off the hook, the fact still remains that the killer could have gained access to the Hayesís home through my lockbox. Someone even suggested that maybe I didnít close it up properly and thatís why my clients were murdered. Can you believe that?Ē

ďTough break,Ē I muttered. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say.

Breanneís eyes narrowed in on me and she pinched her lips together in quiet contemplation before shifting her gaze back to Charles. ďWhat did you say her name was again?Ē

ďAngie Russo,Ē I answered on my own behalf, purposefully not offering to shake hands on our re-introduction. ďNow can we please go see the house?Ē

Her eyes zipped back to mine, and this time she sneered openly. The two of us stared at each other for a few moments before Breanne finally caved and showed us out of her office.

ďWeíll meet you at the house in about fifteen minutes,Ē Charles said. ďWe have a quick pit stop to make first.Ē

ďFine, but please donít be longer than that. I have a lot of paperwork to get through tonight and would prefer not to be up all night.Ē

I didnít say anything until Charles and I were buckled safely back inside his car. ďWell, isnít she a peach?Ē I scoffed.

Charles appeared thoughtful as he watched Breanne pull away in her large cherry red SUV.ďSheís under a lot of pressure these days. Maybe even worse than her brother,Ē he explained. His expression became almost tender, which made me feel queasy.

ďBut that doesnít mean she needs to be rude,Ē I argued. ďWhatís your plan for checking out the house, anyway? I thought the whole point of this visit was to find out if Breanne framed her brother for the murders.Ē

ďWe canít exactly come right out and ask a client if sheís guilty, especially since sheís not the one weíve been hired to defend. I figured we could grab the animals, grab the discovery, and check the place out. After all, you havenít seen the crime scene yet. You might notice somethingI havenít. Yo-Yo might remember something once we get him back inside.Ē

ďYesterday, Yo-Yo seemed pretty convinced that Breanne was to blame. He even called her Ďthe bad lady,íĒ I reminded him.

Charles kept his eyes straight ahead as if gathering his private thoughts, ones he wasnít quite ready to share with me. ďYeah, well, I know Breanne better than you, and I still donít think she did it.Ē

ďAnd I do,Ē I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest like an angry toddler. If I didnít feel threatened by Breanne before, I definitely did now that Charles was going out of his way to defend her despite our evidence against her. It seemed maybe my crush had a little crush of his own.

Maybe Octo-Cat was right. Maybe I needed to find a nice cat person to settle down with and leave pining for Chuck in my past.

But then he smiled a full-on toothy grin, grabbed my hand, and gave it a good squeeze.ďOnly one way to find out. Letís go.Ē

My breathing hitched in my chest. Oh, yes, I was ready to follow him anywhere. Not just because he was handsome, but also because he was smart, kind, and committed to justice.

And all of that was a good thing, too, since we were heading to the place where two people had recently been murderedÖ

Chapter Eleven

Charles and I pulled up to the Hayesís home some twenty minutes later and found Breanne waiting in her SUV idling in the driveway. When we each exited with an animal sidekick, she scrambled out and slammed the door with more strength than I thought she had in her.

Yo-Yo growled and bared his tiny incisors, but made no effort to escape Charlesís arms despite either his anxiety over spending more time with a person he loathed or his unbridled joy at having finally returned home.

ďWhat are you doing with these animals?Ē Breanne demanded, marching right up to us and blocking our path to the house.

Octo-Cat and I cut across the grass and let ourselves inside, leaving Charles to charm the angry realtor since neither of us would be much help there.

The moment we entered, the sharp tang of chemicals hit my nose.

Octo-Cat smelled it, too, and immediately began rubbing his paw over his face.ďEw, ew, ew,Ē he complained with each step we took further into the house.ďYou humans sure have a knack for fouling up your environment. Iím not sure how long Iíll be able to take this.Ē

ďMe either,Ē I said, lifting the collar of my shirt over my face to form an impromptu breathing filter. ďI guess they had to give the place an extra deep cleaning afterÖĒ

Octo-Cat picked up where my words had trailed off.ďThe brutal murders? Yeah.Ē His words came out muffled from beneath his paw.

I looked to him, wondering where we should go next, but the cat ignored me. Instead, he lifted his head and bravely sniffed the air, then broke into a trot and headed straight up the stairs without another secondís hesitation.

ďWait,Ē I called after him, struggling and failing to keep pace. ďWhere are you going?Ē

He didnít answer, but after climbing the stairs myself, I found him sitting in a bedroom at the end of the hallway. The large area was completely devoid of furniture, unlike the other rooms Iíd passed through on my way here. It also appeared to be the source for the strong chemical smell, but otherwise the walls and carpeting appeared pristine and untouched.

I felt a little guilty stomping through the room, but that feeling left me when I managed to pry open the windows and let some fresh, non-toxic air into the space.

Octo-Cat hopped up onto the window sill appreciatively.ďNow I can breathe again,Ē he said with a contented sigh. ďFor a while there I thoughtI was going to die in this house, too.Ē

I placed a hand on each hip and stared him down.ďToo soon, Octo. Too soon.Ē

He flicked his tail in agitation.ďIs my punishment to lose yet another part of my name? What happened to theCat inOcto-Cat?Hmmm?Ē

ďI donít know,Ē I answered truthfully, a devious smile creeping across my face. ďYouíre giving everyone new nicknames lately, so I guess I thought Iíd try it out, too. Besides, unlike you, Iím trying to lighten the mood a little bit, considering Iím pretty sure this is the room where Bill and Ruth died.Ē

ďThis is the room where they weremurdered, you mean,Ē Octo-Cat corrected, taking deliberate care to enunciate the terrible term. ďAnd donít forget theCat next time. It is the most important part of my name.Ē

ďFine, but letís try to focus now. Okay? This is the place two people were killed.Ē I dropped my voice to a whisper just in case Breanne could hear us from outside. I couldnít hear her and had no idea where she, Charles, and Yo-Yo were at the moment, so perhaps we were in good shape for now. Still, it always paid to be extra careful when letting my freak flag fly. ďWe need to see what we can find out while weíre here and have the chance to look around.Ē

ďYes, boss,Ē my tabby said wryly and with another energetic flick of his tail.

A bird chirped in the tree outside the window and immediately drew his attention away. Octo-Cat slowly rose to his feet while keeping his head perfectly still, then wiggled his butt and let out a laughable impression of a bird call.

Rather than tease him, I just rolled my eyes and walked the perimeter of the room. One of us needed to get to work before this golden investigation opportunity completely passed us by. And it seemed that would have to be me.

Tucked into a little nook, I found the door to an impressive walk-in closet. This was the place the bodies had been found, although nothingóother than the chemical smellóhinted at its uncomfortably recent and gruesome history now. It was simply a plain, empty space.

ďThis is where they were found,Ē Charles said, coming up behind me and causing me to jump in my skin.

ďYou donít just sneak up on someone in the middle of a crime scene,Ē I hissed, turning toward him so that he could read the displeasure on my face.

His eyebrows pinched together, and his mouth drooped in a frown. Well, at least he looked properly chastised.ďSorry about that. I didnít mean to scare you, but I also worry we donít have much time. Breanne is not happy right now and even threatened to call Thompson and issue a complaint.Ē

I shook my head and took a step back when I realized Charles and I were still standing too near each other for comfort. I had the hots for the guy, sure, but this hardly felt like the time or place.ďAll because we brought a couple animals with us? Does she even recognize Yo-Yo?Ē

Upon hearing his name, the Yorkie zipped into the room, running huge looping circles so fast, he was mostly a gray and brown blur.

ďWell, someone has the zoomies,Ē Octo-Cat declared, hopping down from the window sill and joining me and Charles by the closet. ďAlso he scared my bird away. I almost had it, too.Ē

I decided not to mention that Octo-Cat also got the zoomies from time to time or that there was absolutely no way he was catching that birdónot just because his bird call was extremely unconvincing but also because of the screen window that hung between them. Add to that his whole inability to fly and we had the very definition of an impossible situation.

We watched the Yorkie run joyous circles until he collapsed in an exhausting, panting heap right in the middle of the room.

ďWhatís going on with Breanne?Ē I asked Charles while Octo-Cat dutifully approached the dog and began a conversation with him.

ďShe says weíre overstepping, and she questions our sanity.Ē His face remained unreadable as he delivered this unwelcome news, but I could guess how he probably felt in that moment.

My heart began to gallop. It was bad enough that Charles knew my secret, but now he was telling others, too?ďYou didnít tell her aboutóĒ

ďNo,Ē he cut me off. ďBut I had to tell her something, so I said they were emotional support animals.Ē

Well, no wonder she thought we were crazy. Charles had basically confirmed that for her.

ďHow long do we have?Ē I asked, unable to resist the urge to gnaw on one of my many hangnails. I really needed to treat myself to a manicure when this whole thing was over.

ďHalf an hour, tops,Ē he revealed with another deep frown.

ďThen we better get to it.Ē I approached the animals slowly and sat down beside them cross-legged. Hopefully, the chemical smell from the carpet wouldnít rub off on my clothes, but even if it did, it would be a small price to pay for information that would save Brock.

ďWhat did he say?Ē I asked Octo-Cat while nodding toward our doggie eye witness.

ďLots of things. Too many things,Ē Octo-Cat said, rolling onto his back so that his belly was facing the ceiling. He looked utterly exhausted even though he couldnít have been talking to Yo-Yo for more than two minutes before I interrupted.

ďCare to tell me any of them?Ē I asked, resisting the urge to pet his fluffy tummy. Something told me he was already looking for a reason to bite me as an outlet for his anxiety, and neither of us needed the extra hostility right now.

He yawned, and the smell of the tuna blend breakfast on his breath mixed with the chemicals in the carpet made my stomach churn with bile.ďSomething about his owners and missing home. He was in the closet. They were in the closet. Yada yada yada.Ē

ďWhat? Noyada yada yada. What did he say? His exact words, please.Ē I nudged him until he rolled onto his side then forced him to look up and focus on me.

Octo-Cat growled, picked himself up, and moved a couple feet so that he was out of my reach.ďI told you everything I could remember. He talks fast. And incessantly, I might add. It just all kind of runs together after a while.Ē

Hmm, kind of like Octo-Cat himself.

I groaned, and Yo-Yo crawled onto my lap to frantically lick my face.ďI cannot believe you,Ē I told my naughty kitty. ďWe came here specifically to investigate the murder and you canít be bothered to pay attention for two minutes?Ē

ďI donít need to lay here and listen to this,Ē Octo-Cat said, pulling himself to his feet with great agitation and trotting out of the room.

Yo-Yo perked up in my lap, then hopped off to give chase.

ďWell, Iím guessing we have even less time now,Ē I told Charles, returning to my feet as well. ďWhere is Breanne hanging out, by the way?Ē

He stood in the closet studying the walls as if they were the most interesting thing in the whole world.ďIn her SUV,Ē he mumbled without looking away. ďShe said she had some calls to make.Ē

I swallowed the giant lump in my throat. We both knew that one of those calls might be to our boss. As much as we needed to make the most of our time here, I also needed to tread lightly as far as my boss was concerned. Mr. Fulton had always been kind and complimentary of my work, but Mr. Thompsonóthe only partner left at this pointómade his dislike of me clear at every possible opportunity.

If Bethany was right about him planning to throw Charles under the bus when it came to this unwinnable case, I had no doubt heíd all too happily discard of me as well.

Sigh.Why were things never easy?

ďShould we go after them?Ē I asked, pointing my chin toward the door through which the animals had just noisily departed.

Charles glanced from me to the door and back again, then shook his head.ďIn a little bit. First, thereís something about the crime scene thatís always struck me as a bit odd. Maybe you can help me figure it out.Ē He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out the giant discovery folder from the prosecution.

Just as I feared, he flipped straight to the photos of Bill and Ruthís bloody, lifeless bodies. I hadnít wanted to see these pictures the first time, and I certainly didnít want to see them now.

But I also didnít want to see an innocent man spend the rest of his life in prison, so I grabbed some antacids from my purse, placed one on my tongue, and willed myself to examine the photos that Charles extended out to me now.

I looked closely this time. Carefully. Just as Charles had asked of me.

And wouldnít you know it? We finally found something that might actually help our case.

Chapter Twelve

I may not have much experience with murder or crime scenes, but something about those photos jumped out at me.

ďCan we lay these out in the closet?Ē I asked, shoving them back toward Charles.

He nodded, got down on his hands and knees, then matched the photos up to their corresponding spots in the actual physical space. Together, we spent a few minutes making sure the angles were represented perfectly.

ďOkay, walk me through this,Ē I said, rubbing my chin with the side of my index finger. ďWhat exactly do we know from the pictures?Ē

Charles pointed to one on the left-hand side of our spread.ďFrom the angle of the blood splatter, we know that the killer approached his victims from the right.Ē

We both studied the wall, which had once been painted red with blood. Now it was a pristine and perfect white.

ďOkay, what else?Ē I asked, chewing on a fingernail now that the antacid had fully dissolved. I needed something to ground myself in the now so my fears wouldnít get the best of me.

Charles swept his vision across the arc of photographs before turning back toward me.ďWell, we believe Bill was killed first and that Ruth was killed a few minutes after when she came to investigate.Ē

I hadnít heard this bit before, but I also hadnít asked for many details about the crime scene, either. One thing was for sure: I definitely needed to work on thickening my skin or at least strengthening my stomach when it came to these thingsóespecially since it seemed investigating murders was becoming something of a habit for me as of late.

I nodded.ďOkay. What makes you say that?Ē

ďBillís blood was more saturated in the carpet and spread further than Ruthís, but really it was a matter of minutes between the murders, so itís hard to say,Ē Charles explained, keeping his voice steady. I wondered if thinking about the brutal killings upset him as much as it upset me. If it did, he certainly didnít make his feelings obvious.

ďHmm,Ē I said, considering my investigative partner just as much as the information heíd presented. After a moment of tense silence, I grabbed a pencil from my purse and did my best to trace the area of blood splatter on the wall. Art was one of my many failed talents, but I did okay considering.

Charles panicked and tried to wrest the pencil away from me.ďWhat are you doing?Ē he demanded with a look of horror on his handsome face. Although, I had to admit, he seemed less handsome today than he had at the beginning of the week. Maybe I was unconsciously beginning to associate the Hayesís double murder with him, and that definitely wasnít swoon-inducing or crush-worthy.

ďTrying to match the evidence to the conclusion.Ē I had to admit, I felt very Sherlock Holmes in that moment. Well, if Holmes had secretly harbored an on-again-off-again crush on Watson. Yeah, I still hadnít found anything groundbreaking, but something told me if we kept following this line of thought, weíd find exactly what we needed to save Brock.

My Watson unfortunately wasnít the most agreeable when it came to my current tactics. He argued, ďBut BreanneóĒ

ďSheís already mad,Ē I said through gritted teeth. ďItís not like this will make things any worse.Ē

Charles sighed but moved aside and let me finish my work.

Ignoring the small droplets, I reproduced the outline for the main burst of the blood splatter carefully. A few minutes later, I stepped back, satisfied with the effort.

ďNow,Ē I said, brushing my hands off on my pants even though they hadnít gotten the slightest bit dirty. ďWe need to finish setting the scene. You be Bill, and Iíll be the killer. Do you have anything can work as the hammer?Ē

ďUmÖĒ Charles shifted his weight uncomfortably. He didnít seem to have the slightest idea what I was on about, but I didnít want to waste time explaining, especially when Breanne could barge in and disrupt us any minute.

ďNever mind, we can use this.Ē I grabbed Octo-Catís neon leash and folded it over several times to approximate the length of a standard hammer, then tied it in place with a hair tie on each end. ďGot any sticky notes in there?Ē

Charles fumbled around in his bag, then pulled out a mini pad of brightly colored notes, which he promptly handed to me.ďNever know when these might come in handy,Ē he said with a shrug. ďIn fact, I still donít know how theyíre going to help right now, but Iím ready to find out.Ē

ďGood,Ē I said, eyeing him carefully for a moment. He smiled instead of grimacing, which I took as a win. ďNow go lay down the way Bill was found and in the same spot, too.Ē

He did, lowering himself gently down onto his stomach and reaching his arms overhead at odd angles. It was eerie, seeing him there sprawled out like the victim from our photosóespecially since my mind automatically filled in the missing details like the blood and the giant, blossoming bruises.

I shook my head to clear my mental Etch-a-Sketch of that gruesome picture, then picked up the photo of Billís prone body and put a series of sticky notes on Charlesís back and head in the same spots where the hammer had wounded Bill. There were three in totalóone near the base of his neck, one on the side of his face, and the last on his upper back near his shoulder.

ďOkay. Now stand up,Ē I instructed, taking a big step back to give him space.

Charles did without saying anything. I could tell he was intrigued and also wanted to see where this was going.

ďHow tall was Bill?Ē I asked as I motioned for my colleague to turn around so that I could study his back from behind.

ďAbout five foot ten,Ē he answered after a brief momentís thought.

ďAnd how tall are you?Ē

ďSix feet even.Ē

ďNow how tall is Brock?Ē

ďSix-four.Ē

I kept all these numbers in my head, adding my height of five foot seven to the mix as I brought my makeshift murder weapon up and down on each of the sticky notes. I caught each shot with the camera on my phone.

ďOkay. You can turn around now.Ē I made a quick trip to the app store to download a measuring app while I explained the next steps to Charles. ďBrock is six inches taller than Bill. So now weíre going to make me six inches taller than you. Can you crouch to aboutyea-high?Ē

I drew the phone from the floor to about my shoulder height and held it there while Charles got into position. He was a bit shaky as I redid my measurements and snapped pictures of each.

ďNow check these out with me,Ē I said, helping him back to his feet so we could both examine the six new photos on my phone. ďThese first three photos are from when we were both at our normal height, and the next three are from us recreating the height difference between Bill and Brock. What do you notice?Ē

Charles grabbed the phone from me excitedly and flipped back and forth reviewing each photo several times, then we placed my phone onto the floor next to the crime scene photos of Bill. He looked from the walls where Iíd traced the path of the blood splatter and back to the pictures.

ďGiven the angle of the blood splatter and placement of the wounds, the first pictures look much more accurate.Ē

I nodded.ďIf Brock had landed these blows on Bill, he would have needed to angle his wrists awkwardly like this and taken a wide, golf-like swing. It would have been much more naturalóand more effectiveóto hit him from above.Ē

ďSo you think someone shorter committed the crime?Ē

ďI do, but letís recreate Ruthís death before deciding for sure.Ē

We went through all the same motions again, with me playing the victim this time. Ruth had only needed one blow to go down and it was directly to the top of her skull.

ďSee,Ē I told Charles as we were going through the resulting photos. ďWhy would the murderer hit Ruth over the top of the head and not Bill?Ē

ďBecause he couldnít reach on Bill,Ē Charles answered excitedly.

I nodded, happy to see that my companion both understood and supported my theory.ďActually, Iím pretty sure the culprit is a she. Or a very short man. In any case, itís not Brock.Ē

ďSo weíre looking for someone aboutÖĒ His eyes found and held mine.

ďMy height, yup,Ē I confirmed.

Charles grabbed the discovery folder and flipped through it quickly, mumbling the names of each witness and person of interest as he went.ďIt couldnít be Brock. Also couldnít be Billís boss. Both are too tall.Ē

I already knew exactly who this new evidence implicated, but I needed Charles to arrive there on his own.

ďAlmost everyone is either too tall or too short to be considered,Ē he murmured while stashing the folder back in his bag.

ďWe know at least one person related to this case whoís exactly my height,Ē I pointed out.

ďBreanne,Ē Charles said with a sigh. ďI was afraid of that.Ē

A series of footsteps stomped up the staircase, causing us to share a horrified expression. We knew exactly who had come to find us now.

ďOkay, timeís up!Ē Breanne called, charging angrily into the room and growing even more livid when she found Charles and me sitting on the closet floor with the crime scene photos and a matching pair of guilty expressions on our faces.

ďWhat are you doing?Ē she demanded, placing a hand on each hip. ďAnd where are your animals?Ē

Uh-oh.This was not good. Not good at all.

Chapter Thirteen

I bolted out of that room so fast, Breanne couldnít have stopped me if sheíd tried. Maybe I was being a bit overdramatic, but I didnít feel like being trapped in the same small, enclosed space with a possible killer. Her arrival also reminded me that I hadnít heard from the animals in quite some time, and I had no idea whether theyíd somehow managed to escape outside.

Luckily, I found Octo-Cat almost right away. He stood on top of the fridge with his fur puffed up and his expression angry. Yo-Yo whined and stood on his hind legs scratching the surface of the refrigerator in his desperation to reach the cat.

ďWhy did you abandon me?Ē Octo-Cat raged.

I put my hands up in surrender.ďHey, youíre the one who left in the middle of our investigation. You could have come back at any time.Ē

ďNot with Dum-Dum cornering me here,Ē he ground out.

I knew he was irritated, but so was I. He was supposed to be finding a way to connect with our doggie witness, and that clearly had not happened.

ďSo, Iím guessing you did nothing useful this whole time?Ē I asked with a frustrated sigh.

His angry, unblinking eyes fixed right on me.ďI defended my life and my dignity, and that is the most important thing of all.Ē

I shook my head and bent down to collect Yo-Yo.ďWe have to go,Ē I whispered to Octo-Cat. ďAnd when the other humans come downstairs, I have to stop talking to you.Ē

ďWhatís that?Ē Breanne asked, appearing suddenly at the foot of the stairs. Seriously, what was it with people sneaking up on me in this house? It gave me the heebie jeebies big time.

ďJust telling them itís time to go,Ē I answered truthfully.

Charles joined us a few moments later.ďI was just gathering our things,Ē he said, handing me Octo-Catís bundled up leash. ďAnd telling Breanne that I would be happy to apply a new coat of paint myself.Ē

Right, to cover the huge damage Iíd made with my light pencil marks.

ďI hired you to make things easier for me. Not harder,Ē Breanne said with a scowl.

ďSorry,Ē I apologized for all of us. ďIt was one-hundred percent my fault.Ē

Breanne regarded me coldly.ďOh, I know. Thatís why I want you off my brotherís case.Ē

A pit of fear formed deep in my stomach. This wasnít supposed to be happening. Charles and I were supposed to take our new theory about the killerís height and use it to clear Brock and save the day just in time. That would be much, much harder if Breanne stood in our way.

How could I explain this all without making her angrier? I didnít know, but I at least had to try. ďButÖĒ

ďBut nothing. All youíre doing is making a mess of my sale property and distracting my lawyer from the job heís supposed to be doing.Ē

ďBrockís lawyer,Ē I corrected without thinking.

Breanne fumed, stomping a heeled foot on the kitchen tile for added emphasis.ďYep. I definitely never want to see you again or your therapy animals. Iíll also be having a talk with Mr. Thompson about my grave disappointment with his firmís performance to date.Ē

I gulped and forced myself to keep quiet even though my instinct was to either defend myself or accuse her. Yo-Yo tensed in my arms and growled at Breanne.

ďWhat is it with small scrappy dogs and their hatred for me?Ē Breanne asked flippantly as she shoved our entire party toward the door. ďThe homeowners had one just like this. It was the most irritating thing. Definitely reminded me why Iím a cat person.Ē

ďDid she say cat person?Ē Octo-Cat asked, quickening his pace so he could rub against the realtorís ankles. The whole thing was uncomfortably flirtatious, and I seriously had no idea what my tabby expected to gain from such an exchange. ďI think I like this one,Ē he purred.

Breanne bent down to pet his striped head, softening a bit as she stroked his silky fur.

ďOh, yeah! I like her very much!Ē Octo-Cat said, flipping onto his side and presenting his belly. What a traitor.

She sighed.ďI guess I can hold off on the call to Thompson, if only for this little cutie. But I still donít want you working on my case anymore.Ē

ďNoted,Ē I answered coolly.

ďWhat was that about?Ē I demanded once Charles, the animals, and I were tucked securely back in his car.

ďWhat?Ē Octo-Cat shrugged, still calm and collected since the car hadnít begun to move yet. ďSometimes a guy just needs a little bit of attention from a pretty lady. Besides, I really saved your butt back there, so I wouldnít be complaining if I were you.Ē

I groaned and shook my head. If I wasnít careful, Iíd soon have a killer migraine.

ďWhat did he say?Ē Charles asked, gesturing toward Octo-Cat with his chin.

ďNever mind,Ē I murmured.

Charles didnít push me any further on that, but he did ask, ďWhere to now? I think we need some time to catch up with the animals, and I doubt theyíd be welcomed back at the firm.Ē

ďNo,Ē I agreed thoughtfully. ďBut I know somewhere even better we can go. Take a left out of here.Ē

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

Nan answered the door in a rose-printed kimono so long it pooled at her feet. Her all-white hair clung to her jawline in a stylish bob that included a thick shelf of bangs that fell just above her brow.

ďLooking good,Ē I said, pushing straight into her house. This had been my home until about six months ago, when Nan had forced me to get a place of my own as part of the whole growing up thing. Even still, I visited her at least a couple times per week. She wasnít just the woman whoíd raised me, but she was also my best friend and the person I trusted most in this entire world.

Thatís why Iíd brought everyone here now.

Both animals followed me inside as I hooked a thumb back at Charles.ďThis is Charles. Heís the head attorney on the case you helped me with the other day.Ē

Wow, had it really only been two days since our dead-end trip to the printing company?Unreal.

ďHeís cute,Ē Nan said, batting her eyelashes.

Charles cleared his throat and glanced toward the ground, which gave me the giggles. Nan had always been a shameless flirt, but she did it for fun, not to land a date. It had been more than ten years since Gramps passed on to a better place, and she hadnít taken on a boyfriend since. I doubted sheíd make an exception for Charles, no matter how handsome we both found him. Besides, sheíd no doubt soon associate him with the Hayesís double murder the way I did now.

Turning back toward me, Nan asked,ďHere to work on the case?Ē

ďYup, you up for helping us out?Ē I led our party into the dining room as it had the best work area to seat all of us.

ďOh, dear, you know me,Ē she answered, making eyes at Charles again. ďIím always up for anything.Ē

He blushed, not quite knowing what to do with the geriatric flirt.ďActually, Iím not sureÖĒ

ďYou can trust Nan,Ē I insisted.

ďIíll sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement,Ē she added.

Charles looked trapped, but ultimately agreed with a shrug.ďFine,Ē he said. ďDo you have a printer I can use to print that NDA for you?Ē

Nan led him to the little office she kept upstairs, then returned to join me and the animals in the formal dining room.ďDoes he know aboutÖ?Ē She widened her eyes at Octo-Cat. ďWell, you know.Ē

ďIím afraid he does,Ē I said with a groan. That was probably another reason why Charles and I could never become an item.

Nan sucked air through her teeth and shook her head in disappointment.ďYou shouldnít just go around blabbing your secret, dear. Itís really not wise.Ē

ďTrust me, I didnít.Ē I took a quick moment to catch her up on the whole blackmail scenario.

When Charles returned with his printed form, Nan hit him on the chest.

ďOuch,Ē he mumbled. ďWhat was that for?Ē

ďYouíre lucky my granddaughter is such a forgiving person. If you ever blackmail her again, though, youíll have me to answer to someone much less forgiving. Me.Ē She pulled herself onto tiptoe and stared at him menacingly despite her small stature.

ďYes, maíam,Ē he answered at once as he clutched the NDA to his chest defensively. He almost looked afraid to offer it to Nan now.

I rolled my eyes at them both.ďEnough posturing. Weíve got a lot of work to do and not much time to do it.Ē

Charles unpacked his messenger bag and began to lay out papers on the table, while Nan excused herself to make a pot of coffee. I took the opportunity to head to Nanís little office so that I could print out the photos I had taken while at the Hayesís house.

When I returned, Octo-Cat sat in the middle of the table, shedding all over everything as he flopped his tail back and forth.

ďHe wouldnít move,Ē Charles told me with a frown.

ďKeeping myself front and center is the best way to ensure you protect me from Dum-Dum,Ē Octo-Cat explained. ďI donít want you getting so caught up in your work that you forget all about the handsome cat who made this all possible.Ē

Ugh, he was so vain. And even more stubborn.

ďWhat did I tell you about calling him Dum-Dum?Ē I asked in irritation.

Octo-Cat yawned unapologetically.ďHey, I calls Ďem like I sees Ďem.Ē

ďWell, if youíre not going to cooperate with us, then weíre not going to cooperate with you. Oh, Yo-Yo!Ē I called, grabbing the cat and placing him on the floor so that the dog could slobber him with kisses.

Octo-Cat screeched, got puffy-tailed, and fled in the direction of the kitchen, shouting kitty curses the whole way.

Nan appeared a couple minutes later, holding the tabby in her arms and stroking him kindly.ďWhat did you do to this poor guy?Ē she demanded.

ďDonít believe a word he says,Ē I shot back. ďHe is not the victim he makes himself out to be.Ē

ďOh, hush. Heís just an innocent little kitty,Ē Nan argued, peppering the smug feline with kisses. Even though she couldnít talk to animals the way I can, sometimes it felt like it. This was one of those times.

Charles couldnít help but chuckle. ďHow does it feel when the tables are turned on you,hmmm?Ē

Octo-Cat laughed, too, but not kindly.ďYour nan likes me better than you,Ē he teased, then actually had the audacity to stick his tongue out at me to add an extra layer of awfulness.

Nan put him down on the table, then returned to the kitchen to fetch the coffee.

ďSee?Ē Octo-Cat said. ďIf you wonít appreciate me, I can always find someone else who does.Ē

I picked him up again and was ready to give him back to Yo-Yo when Nan returned and scolded me.ďYou leave that handsome boy alone. Heís such a good cat. Isnít he?Ē

Octo-Cat laughed again and immediately moved to Nanís side of the table where he snuggled up against her chest and purred at a ridiculous volume.

ďBy the way, hereís your form,Ē she said, pushing the Non-Disclosure Agreement in Charlesís direction. ďNow catch me up on the case.Ē

I took a deep breath and explained everything.

ďHuh,ĒNan said, sitting back in her chair pensively.ďYou sure have a doozy on your hands, but I think I have an idea.Ē

I couldnít wait to hear what she had to say.

Chapter Fourteen

All eyes zoomed to Nan, even Yo-Yoís despite the fact he still didnít know what we were investigating, and I was pretty sure he couldnít understand any of us humans, either.

ďWell, hereís what I thinkÖĒ my eccentric grandmother said, placing the Yorkie in her lap, much to Octo-Catís annoyance.

He skittered across the table and back to my side.ďYuck. Dog germs,Ē he said with an exaggerated twitch.

ďI think,Ē Nan continued in a baby voice directed at Yo-Yo. ďThat nobodyís tried buttering this little guy up. You keep putting him in all these excitable situations and expecting him to be able to perform. Why not spend a little time getting to know him, making him feel comfortable, and then broaching theÖ?Ē

She hesitated before deciding on the word she needed to finish her sentence.ďUm, conversation,Ē Nan concluded with an awkward smile.

Charles and I looked to each other and shrugged.

ďI guess itís worth a try,Ē I said with a quick nod. Iíd hoped she would stay with me and Charles to study the photos and files some more, but once Nan had an idea, it was hard to get her to focus on anything else. Actually, she was kind of like Yo-Yo in that way.

ďGreat.Ē Nan stood, still clutching the terrier to her chest delicately. ďYou two get back to your work with those grisly photos, and Iíll work on plying the key witness.Ē

ďWe donít actually know that he saw anything. Itís possible thatóĒ Charles corrected, but stopped short when I placed a hand on his wrist and shook my head.

ďJust let her do her thing, and weíll do ours,Ē I said. ďNow help me pull out the testimonies of all the women involved in the caseóofficers, witnesses, friends, neighbors, coworkers, anyone we have.Ē

We shuffled through the papers, having all but memorized the order of the statements and evidence. It didnít even take five minutes to pull out the documents we needed.

ďNow,Ē I said, appraising our work. ďAre there any men that we know for sure are my height or shorter?Ē

Charles thought for a few moments before handing me a couple of additional files.ďThis one is a colleague of Billís from Bayside Printing Company, and thatís one of the potential buyers from the open house.Ē

I fanned everything out before us, attempting to group similar people together. We have one end for colleagues, one for people from the open house, one for friends and family, and one for miscellaneous folks who had somehow been called into the case, such as police officers or crime scene cleaners. Most documents werenít official testimonies at all, but rather bio sheets Charles had made himself before I joined the case.

ďLetís go through them all one at a time,Ē Charles suggested, reaching for the colleagues stack. We spent the next hour talking through each person and taking notes about who had either means, motive, or opportunity. For those that had more than one of those, we added a star to their sheet and placed them in a new pile.

After all that work, we were left staring at our two most probable suspects: the daughter and the realtor, Michelle Hayes and Breanne Calhoun.

I sighed and leaned back against my chair.ďI keep hoping the facts will line up differently, but it really looks like one of these two is to blame.Ē

Charles crossed his arms and shook his head, staring me directly in the eye as he defended ouróor at least myóprime suspect. ďNo way. I know Breanne can be a bit brusque, but she didnít do it.Ē

ďMaybe so,Ē I said, even though I still hadnít even come close to clearing the rude realtor in my mind. I like to think I learned my lesson from investigating Ethel Fultonís death. Iíd been so convinced of who the killer was that I wouldnít even consider anyone elseóand ended up putting myself in a very dangerous position besides.

Still, from everything Iíd seen and heard so far, Breanne made sense. Maybe if I eased Charles into this realization a little more slowly, heíd put his hesitation aside and finally see things my way.

ďOkay, so then letís discuss the daughter. How do you explain the fact that Michelle has more or less disappeared into thin air?Ē

ďShe hasnít disappeared,Ē Charles argued this point, too. If we kept disagreeing over every single possibility, we might as well hand over Brockís conviction now.

ďSheís just not answering our calls,Ē he said, tapping his pen on the table and frazzling my nerves.

ďOkay, then where is she?Ē I demanded, grabbing the pen and moving it out of his reach.

Charles sighed and folded his hands in front of him.ďAt her college up state.Ē

ďWell, given that we have no other leads to pursue, I think I know weíre headed next.Ē

ďIt will be a waste of time,Ē he insisted with another heady sigh.

ďCharles,Ē I said gently. ďPlease. We have nothing else at this point. We at least have to try. For Brock.Ē

ďFine. For Brock,Ē he answered in defeat.

ďGood,Ē I said, even though his lack of enthusiasm made it an empty victory. ďLet me go check with Nan and Yo-Yo. Címon, Octo-Cat.Ē I roused my tabby from his nap and motioned for him to follow me.

ďAre we finally getting somewhere with all of this?Ē my cat asked after letting out a massive yawn.

ďSoon, I hope,Ē I said diplomatically.

Charles groaned and laid his forehead on the table as we walked away.

ďOh, hi, dears!Ē Nan cried as Octo-Cat and I joined her in the living room. ďYo-Yo and I are having a great time getting to know each other out here. Arenít we, boy?Ē

The terrier barked, and Nan praised him profusely.

ďWell, sheís lost at least ten points in my book,Ē Octo-Cat said drolly. ďItís always a shame when a good human falls to the dog side. I must say, I never expected this kind of betrayal from Nan. You, maybe, but definitely not her.Ē

ďSheís not changing allegiances,Ē I said as he jumped to the back of the couch and settled in. ďSheís just doing what she can to help out.Ē

ďSays you,Ē he complained, shaking his head in disgust.

ďIs everything okay?Ē Nan asked with a quick glance toward the perturbed kitty.

ďItís fine, or at least it will be. Hey, Octo-Cat,Ē I called to get his attention again.

ďWhat?Ē he whined, mid-paw lick.

ďYou can take a bath later,Ē I scolded. ďThe whole point of us coming out here was to see if Yo-Yo has anything new to say. Could you please ask him if he remembers anything new?Ē

ďNo, not like that,Ē Nan interjected, continuing to pet the Yorkie enthusiastically. ďTell him his new friend Nan would like to know if anyone has hurt his family that he can remember and if he can tell us about it.Ē

ďBarf,Ē Octo-Cat responded before shouting, ďHey, Dum-Dum!Ē

The terrierís head immediately snapped toward him. It definitely didnít help that Yo-Yo had started responding to the catís cruel nickname for him.

Octo-Cat asked his question exactly as Nan had worded it, which caused the other animal to whimper and bury his face in Nanís lap. The fact that he wasnít yipping in terror was definitely progress.

My bored-looking cat nodded as he listened to the little dog, who had now lifted his head to look directly at Octo-Cat as he made sad puppy noises.

When Yo-Yo grew quiet again, Octo-Cat said,ďWow. Iím actually really surprised that worked.Ē

I sat up straighter in my excitement.ďWhat did he say?Ē

ďHe said it was really dark that night and he couldnít see well, but the person who hurt his mom and dad had red hair. He also wants to know when he can go back to his family.Ē

The poor dog still didnít know he wouldnít be seeing his parents again, but he had finally given us enough to finish clicking all the pieces together. Red hair could only meanÖ

ďSo it was Breanne!Ē I shouted triumphantly. ďI knew it!Ē

ďGood kitty,Ē I called back to Octo-Cat as I marched back to Charles in the dining room.

ďDo not call me kitty,Ē Octo-Cat growled after me, but from the note of happiness in his voice, I could tell the correction was just to remain consistent in his attempts to train me out of certain behaviors he didnít much appreciate.

ďDid you hear?Ē I said, placing a palm on each table and leaning toward Charles, who still looked utterly defeated.

ďYou think it was Breanne,Ē he answered. When he lifted his head, one of our case documents was stuck to his cheek. ďWhy?Ē

ďYo-Yo doesnít know theyíre dead, but he remembers them getting hurt. He said it was late at night, which matches up with what we know about the crime.Ē

Charles finally looked as excited as I felt.ďAnd?Ē

ďHe said it was dark so he couldnít see well, but that the person who hurt them had red hair. That could only be Breanne.Ē

ďThink again,Ē Charles said, pulling out his phone and browsing through his email. When he handed it back to me, there was a young woman with bright red locks who looked vaguely familiar even though I wasnít sure Iíd ever seen her before.

ďWhoís that?Ē I demanded.

ďThatís Michelle Hayes.Ē

Uh oh.

We stared at each other for a moment before I finally came up with an argument.ďBut wouldnít Yo-Yo recognize his own sister?Ē I sputtered.

Charles frowned.ďNot necessarily. Especially if it was too dark to make things out clearly.Ē

ďSo what now?Ē I asked, gnawing on one of my few untouched fingernails as nerves overtook me.

ďRoad trip!Ē Nan cried from the other room.

Charles nodded.ďItís our last shot at solving this in time to stop your motherís story.Ē

Shoot, he was right. Even though just minutes earlier Iíd been the one insisting we pay Michelle a visit, I felt much more anxious knowing that she may actually be the killer.

Chapter Fifteen

FRIDAY

The next morning, I woke up before Octo-Cat for what was probably one of the first times ever in our strange relationship. The alarm on my phone sounded at four thirty and I had to nudge him awake so that we could both get ready for the long day ahead.

In hindsight, I really wished we had gone to bed earlier the night before, but when Mom joined us at Nanís, we all wanted to hear her opinion on the progress weíd made so far.

ďI have to admit,Ē she told us, shaking her head. ďIt really seems like youíre right about Brock not having done it.Ē

Mom offered to hold the story longer, but I insisted that she wouldnít have to. We would solve this thing before the six oíclock news was set to air, and weíd give her the exclusive true story, too.

Charles didnít share my optimism, but he did agree to wake up before dawn so we could make the long drive to Michelleís college where weíd grill her live and in person so we could finally uncover the important answers weíd been missing all this time.

Predictably, Yo-Yo was excited for our big road trip, even though we hadnít told him we were going to see his human sister.

Iíd offered Octo-Cat the opportunity to stay at home, but he refused to get left out of the action. This worried me, because he had made zero progress in dealing with his car phobia and we had a very long drive ahead of us that day. Because I knew it would be impossible to change his mind, I decided to help him out. With his permission, I slipped some crushed-up medicine into his morning meal. It was just the kitty Benadryl his vet had previously prescribed in case of emergency, but it did cause him to snooze for a large part of our journeyóand for that, everyone was very thankful indeed.

He really did look like an angel when he wasnít insulting me, or clawing me, or questioning my life choices in general. And I suspected he was also starting to enjoy our crime-solving gig, even though for the time being it included a dog.

Nan joined us for the road trip, too. Yes, now that sheíd been brought up to speed, she insisted on coming along for the ride. ďIn case Yo-Yo needs a friend,Ē sheíd said, making me wonder why I was the one whoíd gained the ability to talk to animals when it seemed she was the one who understood them so much better.

Despite trying hard not to, I snoozed for part of the trip right along with Octo-Cat. After all, I didnít have Bethany to make coffee for me, and Iíd already thrown out my home coffee maker for fear of sustaining another near-death experience, or worseógaining weird, new superpowers. Luckily, Nan was more than happy to keep Charles company while Octo-Cat and I caught up on our beauty sleep.

ďRise and shine!Ē Nan shouted from behind me, forcing me to wake up again. Yes, indeed, the previously absent sun was now shining bright and high in the sky.

ďWeíre here,Ē Charles announced, maneuvering his car into the guest parking lot that serviced our suspectís small liberal arts college.

ďSo whatís the game plan?Ē Nan asked eagerly, leaning forward with a hand on the edge of each of our seats.

ďDidnít you figure out the plan on the way over?Ē I asked in irritation. If Iíd have known they were just going to shoot the breeze, I never would have allowed myself to nod off when there was still work to be done.

ďRoute One is lovely this time of year,Ē Nan answered in a cheery tone. ďWe were too busy admiring the scenery to worry about what weíd do when we got here. Besides, you seem to be the designated worrier of the bunch. So, why donít you make the plan?Ē

I slapped a palm against my forehead.ďI guess thatís what I get for sleeping on the job.Ē

Octo-Cat woke up and yawned in my face, sending a giant whiff of tuna breath straight up my nostrils. Let me tell you, it worked better than a double shot of espresso to snap me wide awake.

ďItís a small college, so I guess letís just ask around,Ē I said with a sigh, hating that this was now our plan. Then I realized we had one very distinct advantage we hadnít considered yet. ďMaybe itís time to let Yo-Yo in on who weíre here to see. He may even be able to sniff her out for us.Ē

Before Charles had a chance to either agree or disagree, Octo-Cat relayed the message to the Yorkie, who responded immediately and with great enthusiasm to the idea.

ďHeís ready,Ē Octo-Cat said as he stretched his legs and spine to finish waking up himself. Miraculously, he only hissed at me once while I worked the harness onto him.

Nan had a much harder time readying Yo-Yo, who continuously threw himself against the car door in his eagerness to reunite with Michelle.

Once both animals were safely leashed, we were on our way. As we walked around the seaside campus, it struck me that we were probably one of the strangest groups of five whoíd ever wandered these paths. It was still only about seven in the morning, which meant the campus was mostly empty, but that didnít stop the people we did come across from sending pointed stares our way.

I smiled at each as they passed, but by the time the third or fourth person grimaced our way without so much as a properďgood morning,Ē Iíd had enough.

ďSo what if Iím walking my cat on a leash?Ē I called, holding my chin high. They couldnít possibly judge me any harsher than I already judged myself. ďHe likes to get some fresh air, too. And why should dogs have all the fun?Ē

ďYes!Ē Octo-Cat cheered, skipping a little as he ran beside me. ďNow you get it. You finally get it!Ē

Yo-Yo stopped abruptly and went rigid, making the same pointing gesture heíd taken on when first seeing the sign for Calhoun Realty. This time his gaze was fixed on a three-story stone building that lay across a neat and tidy lawn.

He woofed once, twice, then stopped.

ďHe says his sister is in that building,Ē Octo-Cat translated.

ďIs that a dorm?Ē I asked my human companions.

Charles jogged around the front and read the sign.ďYes, it is,Ē he said when he returned, not even the least bit winded from the tiny burst of exercise.

ďHe wants to see his sister,Ē Octo-Cat said as the Yorkie began to whimper and pad his paws on the ground impatiently.

ďIím going in,Ē Nan said, forging confidently ahead.

ďWait. Why you?Ē Charles demanded.

ďNone of us are relatives, but Iíd wager whatever security they have in this place is far less likely to question a kindly old lady.Ē Nan paused for a moment. When neither of us argued with her, she straightened her posture and asked, ďThe markís name is Michelle Hayes, right?Ē

The mark?What? Had Nan been watching those con man adventure movies again? She was really getting way to in to this.

Now that I was awake enough to notice things a bit better, I realized that she had actually put together an elderly granny costume, complete with a knitted shawl and a high-waisted skirt. The ensemble was so very not her that it could only be intentional. Sheíd had this plan all along but hadnít told me because sheíd known Iíd argue about her forging ahead alone.

Well, she was right about that much.

ďIím coming with you,Ē I said, handing Octo-Catís leash to Charles before trailing after her.

Charles grabbed me by my shoulder, forcing me to stop short.ďSheís right. Weíll wait here until you come back or text us.Ē

Nan nodded.

Charles nodded.

I groaned and motioned for Nan to carry on her way.ďAre they even going to let Yo-Yo into the dorms?Ē I called after her.

ďOnly one way to find out,Ē Charles answered as we both watched Nan turn the corner to the front of the building.

ďI donít like this,Ē I pouted. ďAnd I donít think Michelle did it.Ē

ďYes, weíve established what you think,Ē my companion said with a groan.

ďItís not just that I think Breanneís hiding something,Ē I explained. ďI mean, why would Michelle kill her own parents? And wouldnít Yo-Yo have recognized his own sister?Ē

ďI donít know,Ē Charles answered coolly. ďBut youíre the one who insisted we come out here. Remember?Ē

ďOnly so we can eliminate Michelle and see if she has any direct proof that points to Breanne,Ē I reminded him. Yes, Iíd vowed not to jump to conclusions after my wrong assumptions nearly got me killed on the last case, but this was different. Yo-Yo had more or less identified Breanne already, and she was still the only person in the whole world he seemed to dislike. That had to be more than a simple coincidence.

Charles seemed far less convinced.ďWell, I guess weíll see,Ē he said with a shrug.

ďYeah, I guess we will.Ē

Neither of us said anything more as we waited for Nan to return, although I sent out a quiet prayer that sheíd have a ready and willing partner to help us finish our investigation once and for all.

Time was ticking away fast.

Chapter Sixteen

Nan reappeared about fifteen minutes later. At her side stood a fiery-haired, freckle-faced girl wearing pajama pants that had been liberally patterned with smiling cartoon tacos.

ďHello, darlings,Ē Nan sang out proudly. ďThis is Mitch Hayes.Ē

ďYeah. Nobodyís called me Michelle from grade school,Ē the college student explained before plopping a kiss right on Yo-Yoís fuzzy head. The little dog looked as if he were floating on a cloud as Mitch hugged and doted on him.

ďThanks for coming out to talk to us,Ē Charles said. He rose and offered his hand to Mitch, and she struggled to adjust the terrier in her arms to accept his greeting, leading to a rather awkward introduction.

ďWhy werenít you answering any calls?Ē I demanded. Maybe I was being a tad rude, but none of us had time to waste if we wanted to meet my motherís deadline for clearing Brock.

The girl shrugged.ďI dropped my phone in a toilet a couple weeks ago and havenít felt the need to replace it since Iím pretty much always on my computer or tablet, anyway.Ē

ďBut why not return any of the many, many calls from people trying to get in touch with you?Ē Charles asked, crooking his eyebrow.

ďI was sick of people calling to make themselves feel better about offering condolences while only making me feel worse with the constant reminders that my parents are dead.Ē She buried her face in the Yorkieís fur and mumbled, ďMaybe I donít want to talk about the fact my parents were murdered in cold blood.Ē

Nan placed an arm around Mitch and pulled her in close.ďYou two can stop with the third degree now. Mitch doesnít have to help us, but sheís kindly agreed to anyhow.Ē

ďThank you, Mitch,Ē I said, offering a smile I hoped would get through to her. ďWe do really appreciate it.Ē

She kicked at the ground and kept her eyes focused there.ďSo you really think this Brock guy is innocent?Ē

I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look up at me.ďWe know he is.Ē

She shivered beneath my hand and her face took on a new pallor.ďThat means the person who killed my parents is still out there.Ē

I let go of her shoulder and grabbed my shoulder instead.ďYeah.Ē

ďTell me what you need me to do.Ē Mitch set her mouth in a determined line, her brows furrowed in anger.

ďOver here.Ē Charles cleared his throat and motioned for everyone to sit on a nearby retaining wall. ďWe need you to tell us anything that could help us identify the real killer.Ē

Poor Mitch looked a bit lost.ďBut you have my statement, right? I already told the cops everything I could think of.Ē

ďWe do, but do you mind if we ask you a few more questions in light of recent things weíve learned?Ē Charles asked, reaching into his bag. I seriously hoped he didnít plan to pull out the crime scene photos right now. Mitch shouldnít have to see that.

Even before Charles could find what he was searching for, a sudden burst of tears fell from the girlís bright blue eyes.

ďOh for goodnessís sake, you two. Slow down a bit. Canít you see this is hard on her?Ē Nan grumbled, pressing the girlís head into her shoulder. ďYou just go ahead and cry all the tears you need to cry. Thatís right. Nan is here for you now.Ē

Yo-Yo whined and licked his sisterís face, offering a hesitant tail wag.

As I watched them and tried to come up with a new way to approach questioning Mitch, Octo-Cat pawed at my shoulder.

ďExcuse me,Ē he said, shocking me with his sudden politeness. ďDum-DuóI mean,the dog says he remembers who hurt his owners now. Also, he says he thinks his humans might even be dead.Ē

ďHe remembers?Ē I asked, not even caring when Mitch lifted her head to study us curiously. ďI thought he said it was too dark to see.Ē

ďYes, but he smelled everything just fine, and apparently remembers who it was now,Ē Octo-Cat explained slowly.

Yo-Yo fixed his eyes on me and gave an urgent bark.

ďSo, yeah.Ē Octo-Cat dropped his voice to a hissy whisper and leaned in close. ďCan I finally just tell him already?Ē

ďTell him what? OhÖĒ That his owners are dead. Yo-Yo still didnít know for sure. I nodded my agreement. ďYeah, I think itís time.Ē

Octo-Cat spoke to Yo-Yo calmly and much kinder than he ever had before. When heíd said all he needed to say, I waited for the inevitable high-pitched screeching and crazy escape attempts from Yo-Yo, but he just let out a soft whimper and snuggled in closer to Mitch.

ďWhy isnít he freaking out?Ē I asked my cat.

Octo-Cat had something akin to respect written across his face. I couldnít be one-hundred percent sure, since Iíd never seen him make that expression before and it didnít seem likely Iíd ever see it again, either.

ďHe wants to be strong for his human,Ē he told me.

I brought a hand to my chest and said,ďAwww, thatís so sweet.Ē

Octo-Cat shrugged his little kitty shoulders.ďYeah, dogs might not be the smartest, but they are loyal. I guess thatís their one redeeming quality.Ē

Yo-Yo licked Mitch a few more times, then untangled himself from her arms and came to sit right next to me. He let out a string of four or five barks, keeping his eyes trained on me the whole time he spoke.

ďHe didnít see much, but he remembers her smell now,Ē Octo-Cat said. He lifted a paw to his mouth, but then thought better of beginning a new grooming session at this key investigative moment and dropped his paw back to the ground.

ďHer, right.Ē So far everything was lining up with what Charles and I already knewóor at least theorizedóand things werenít looking very good for our realtor friend. ďWho was it?Ē

Sure enough, Octo-Cat confirmed my suspicions with what he said next.ďHe says it was the lady selling the house.Ē

ďBreanne, I knew it!Ē I shouted before turning to Charles. ďGive me that picture of Breanne from her flyer, please.Ē

He stared at me wordlessly for a moment before finally reaching into his messenger bag and retrieving the requested photo.

ďIs this her?Ē I asked, holding the paper up to Yo-Yo.

He let out a bark that quickly turned into a growl.

ďSee!Ē I said, shoving the paper back at Charles. ďYou let your crush on Breanne blind you to the truth. It was her this whole time.Ē

Octo-Cat pawed me again. This time with a bit of claw.

ďOuch!Ē I cried. ďWhat now?Ē

ďThatís not what he said,Ē he told me with a smug smirk.

Not Breanne? How could that possibly be? We already knew it wasnít Mitch. Glendale wasnít very big. How many five foot seven redheaded killers could we possibly have in our small town?

I widened my eyes at him, waiting.

ďHe said it wasnít the lady on the paper,Ē Octo-Cat explained, visibly losing patience with each word. ďIt was the other one.Ē

ďWhat?Ē I asked as my heart crashed to my feet. ďAll this just to find out it really was Brock all along?Ē

Octo-Cat turned to the terrier, and the two spoke quietly back and forth for a couple minutes before he looked back to me.

ďNot the man,Ē he said. ďThe other lady.Ē

ďCharles,Ē I said, reaching out my hand. ďGive me a photo of Brock to show Yo-Yo.Ē

Mitch, whoíd kept quiet during this whole exchange until now, piped up. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she asked, ďAre you actually talking with that cat?Ē

ďIt gets less weird the more youíre around it,Ē Nan explained with a kind chuckle.

ďLooks like the catís out of the bag,Ē Charles added with a laugh that was way too generous for his bad joke.

I didnít have the time to worry about some college student learning my secret. I was so close to figuring this out, and just in the nick of time, too. We only had about ten hours before my momís story would run. Maybeójust maybeóit would actually be enough.

Charles held up the picture of Brock, and Yo-Yo made a high-pitched yipping noise.

ďNot him,Ē Octo-Cat translated.

ďThen who does he mean when he says itís the other one?Ē I complained. Something just wasnít clicking. Maybe Yo-Yo wasnít the key to solving the case, after all.

ďBrockis the other one,Ē I insisted, speaking to Octo-Cat but keeping my gaze on Yo-Yo as I did so. ďWho else there?Ē

ďIím calling Breanne,Ē Charles announced already mid-dial.

ďGive me that,Ē I said, yanking his cell phone right out of his hand.

ďHello?Ē Breanne answered full of an energy and friendliness I certainly hadnít heard from her before.

I caught the eye of each of my companions and raised a finger to my lips to let them know they needed to be quiet.ďHello, Breanne. Itís me, Angie Russo, the paralegal on your brotherís case.Ē

ďI thought I told you I didnít want you working on it anymore,Ē she growled, every ounce of kindness having evaporated within a split second.

ďIím off the case after today,Ē I explained quickly. ďBut Charles asked me to drive up to Michelle Hayesís school and see if I could find her. She only had a few minutes before her class started, but she told me the realtor did it.Ē

Yeah, like I was about to confess my strange abilities to someone who already hated me.

ďImpossible,Ē Breanne spat back. ďI didnít do it, and neither did my brother. Itís awfully funny that sheís blaming me now when she swore she didnít have a clue in her statement to the police.Ē

I made a tight fist and then let it go, bracing myself for what came next.ďIf you didnít, then who did? I mean, who else could she possibly mean?Ē

Breanne made a series of infuriated noises that started with a huff and ended with a yell.ďThatís it! Iím definitely calling Mr. Thompson to file an official complaint.Ē

ďPlease just answer the question,Ē I insisted, praying she wouldnít hang up on me before offering anything good.

ďThe realtor,Ē Breanne yelled. ďThat could mean absolutely anybody. Do you know there are more than three-thousand realtors licensed just in the state of Maine? It could have been any of the ones who showed up at the open house or had a showing before that, or even the one who was helping them to buy their new house. Anyone could have had access to the lockbox. Anyone could have killed them.Ē

ďWait,Ē I said. My breathing hitched, and I shook from the sudden excitement of my realization. ďGo back.Ē

ďAnyone could have access. The fact you insist on blaming me when Iím the one payingóĒ

As much as I knew she liked yelling at me, I had to cut Breanne off in order to keep her focused.ďNot that. Before,Ē I begged.

ďDespite your fondness for blaming me, Michelle could have literally been talking about any other realtor. If she had some insider information, then why hasnít she shared before now?Ē

ďForget about that for now,Ē I said. ďYou mentioned another realtor. Youíre not the one helping buy their new house?Ē

Breanne drew in a sharp breath. Maybe she was finally beginning to understand now.ďNo. I mean, I wanted to, but they already had someone picked out before they came to me to list their house.Ē

ďDo you know who that other realtor was?Ē I asked, then held my breath as I waited.

Her answer would determine everything.

Chapter Seventeen

All eyes watched me as I waited for Breanneís answer to come through the line. Even my heart seemed to beat more quietly for fear of missing a single word.

ďI donít understand why this is important,Ē the realtor grumbled, disappointing us all.

Charles grabbed the phone from my hands and practically shouted into the speaker.ďBreanne, itís Charles. We think the other realtor is the key to clearing your brother. Can you tell us who it is?Ē

I followed after Charles as he paced a small path, making sure I remained close enough to hear both sides of the conversation.

Surprisingly, Breanne seemed just as irritated with Charles as she had been with me.ďReally?Ē she shot back sarcastically. ďBecause a couple seconds ago your assistant accused me of killing the Hayeses.Ē

Charles shot daggers in my direction but kept his voice even for Breanneís benefit. ďI promise thatís not what she was doing. She justÖ has a hard time expressing herself clearly sometimes.Ē

ďI want her off my case,Ē Breanne reminded him with a heavy sigh. ďAnd you should really consider getting yourself a new assistant, anyway.Ē

Charlesís voice became small. ďCould you please justóĒ

ďOh for Peteís sake!Ē Nan shouted, yanking the phone away from Charles and delivering it to Mitch, who stared down at it in confusion.

ďGo ahead, honey,Ē Nan coaxed. ďTell her who you are what you want.Ē

ďHi, this is Michelle Hayes,Ē the girl sputtered into the phone.

Everyone grew silent again as we watched to find out what would happen next.

ďWould you please tell me the name of the realtor helping my parents buy their new house?Ē Mitch asked, her voice shaky. I couldnít tell whether the fresh tears in her voice were authentic or for added dramatic effect, but I hoped they would work on the coarse woman on the other end of the line.

Of course, the phone had gotten too far away for me to clearly hear Breanneís response, but Mitch nodded along as the realtor said whatever she needed to say.

ďPlease,Ē the girl said next, her voice cracking on that solitary word. ďI just want to find out who killed my parents and make sure theyíre punished for it. Can you help?Ē

She listened some more, nodded a bunch, then turned to the rest of us and flashed a thumbs up sign before saying,ďGreat. Thank you so much for your helpÖ Yes, weíll definitely do thatÖ Bye.Ē

ďWell?Ē Nan practically shouted, ready to explode with excitement.

Mitch looked quite pleased with herself as she handed my phone back to me.ďShe says she doesnít know off hand, but the info will be in the realtor database. Sheís looking it up now and will text the info to Charles. She said, um, that she prefers not to deal with the assistant anymore.Ē

Of course.I was beginning to think Breanneís problem with me was much bigger than just me drawing on some walls, but honestly, it didnít really matter. Not when we still had a double murder to solve.

Charles shot me a sympathetic look as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. At that same moment, a new text notification flashed across the screen.ďSandra Lynn of Lighthouse Realty& Brokerage. Anyone recognize that name?Ē he asked, glancing toward each of us in turn.

We all shook our heads and waited as Charles returned his attention to the phone.

ďHold on,Ē he said, squinting down at the phone. The clouds had just cleared, sending a direct beam of brightness down onto the campus. It was almost as if God Himself wanted to spotlight the importance of this moment.

ďBreanne just sent a link,Ē Charles explained as his fingers swept across the phone.

I slid close to him and stared at his slowly loading web browser. When the site finally did load, I recognized the woman splashed across its front page almost immediately. There she stood in front of a spiraled black and white lighthouse with her wavy red hair blowing softly in the breeze as she smiled and held up a giant, hulkingSOLD sign.

ďIs that the woman we ran into at the Little Dog Diner?Ē Charles asked. ďThe one who wanted our table?Ē

I blinked hard and looked again. Yes, that was her, too. The diner wasnít the place I first remembered seeing her, though. ďShe was at the Printing Company when Nan and I went to investigate. She said she was hoping to pick up an order before they closed for the evening. She was the reason I couldnít do any snooping around the storefront.Ē

Understanding lit in Charlesís eyes. ďSo that means she would have known at least Bill already, if not Ruth, too,Ē he surmised.

Iíd only ever rented, but something about that didnít make sense to me. ďBut if they were close enough to have her buy their new house, why wouldnít they have hired her to sell their existing one, too?Ē

Charles shrugged.ďPeople donít always use the same realtor for both transactions, but I do find it weird she wasnít brought into the investigation before.Ē

ďIt says here sheís based out of Misty Harbor, which would explain why we saw her at the diner,Ē I pointed out. ďThatís in Misty Harbor, too.Ē

Charles worried his lip, then asked,ďShould we call her?Ē

ďAnd let her know weíre coming? Heck no!Ē Nan broke in, then once again stole the phone from Charles. ďGive me that,Ē she said with a huff, then marched right up to Yo-Yo and held the device in front of his face.

The dog immediately growled and snapped at the air.

Nan had to jump back to avoid getting bitten.

Octo-Cat trotted over to my side.ďHe saysóĒ

ďYeah, I donít think we need that one translated,Ē I said with a giant smile. Weíd done it. Weíd really done it. And just in time, too.

ďLetís go get our perp,Ē Nan said, already marching back toward the parking lot. She paused a moment to call over her shoulder, ďYou coming, Mitch?Ē

The girl hopped off the half wall.ďLetís do this!Ē

And just like that, we were all running back to the caróCharles, me, Nan, Mitch, Octo-Cat, and Yo-Yoówhich we reached in record time for such a motley crew.

ďIt all lines up,Ē I said between heavy breaths while my fingers fumbled with the seatbeltís clasp. ďSandra looks enough like Breanne that it confused Yo-Yo. Theyíre also both realtors who were working with the Hayeses, which would have only added to his confusion.Ē

ďPlus, all humans look the same,Ē Octo-Cat pointed out.

ďAnd that,Ē I said with a freeing laugh. Oh my gosh, we had done it. ďNow we just had to prove it in a way that would hold up in court, and Brock will be a free man.Ē

ďYou leave that to me,Ē Nan said, cracking her knuckles on each hand as if readying for war.

ďNo way!Ē Charles answered for me. ďYouíve already done more than enough.Ē