Raccoon Racketeer

Chapter Four

When the doorbell chimed a spirited rendition of the Village People’s YMCA, I knew two things. My first client was on the other side of that door, and Nan had obviously been having some fun at my expense.

Nan, of course, had refused to divulge any details pertaining to the case or the client, preferring not to shade my judgment, or so she said. I personally believe she just thought it was more fun that way—well, at least for her.

So when I pulled open the door to reveal our mail lady Julie, I was completely taken by surprise. “Julie, hello! How are you today?” I asked cautiously, not quite sure whether she was the client or simply here on urgent US Postal Service business.

“I’ve been better, that’s for sure.” The normally smiling woman stood uncertainly on the porch, a giant frown marring her cherubic features. She wrung her hands and let out an enormous sigh.

“Well, invite our guest in already!” Nan called from the bottom of the staircase. I hadn’t even heard her approach. I’m telling you, she’s part ninja.

“Thank you, Dorothy.” Julie nodded and moved to stand awkwardly in our foyer. She was one of the few people around town who knew and used Nan’s God-given name rather than her preferred nickname.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to discuss business in private.” Nan swept away, hips swinging as she made her way toward the kitchen.

“Oh!” she cried as she twisted back to face us from across the room. “Be a dear and take the cat with you. He has a horrible habit of getting in my way lately.” She paused, opened her mouth, and then shot me a giant, exaggerated wink that Julie surely couldn’t have missed.

Octo-Cat growled as he hopped onto the lowest step. “Just because she can’t understand me doesn’t mean I don’t understand her, and that was hurtful.”

I wanted to comfort him but simply couldn’t with Julie watching us both so closely. “Let’s head up to my office,” I said instead.

What had been a mere guest room when we’d moved in was now my favorite room in the entire manor. Brock Calhoun—who now went by Cal for short—had done a fantastic job converting the space into a luxury library and office, but the crowning feature was the six-foot-long window seat that overlooked the estate’s back gardens. The huge vaulted ceilings and antique crystal chandelier weren’t so bad either, nor were the built-in bookshelves that took up two entire walls from floor to ceiling.

“Wow,” Julie whispered in reverence as she took it all in. “I bet you hardly ever leave this room.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said amicably, even though that wasn’t entirely true. While I definitely spent a few hours reading in my library each week, the fact I hadn’t managed to book any clients to fulfill the office function of the space depressed me. Most days I found it easier to read in my bedroom rather than face my own inadequacy as a private investigator.

Well, that all changed right here, right now, and all thanks to the blessed woman before me.

“Nan says you have a case,” I started once Julie had settled onto the leather fainting couch opposite my large walnut desk and swivel chair. “Catch me up.”

Octo-Cat paced the perimeter of the room, trying—and failing—to act naturally. We’d have to talk about that later.

“I do.” Julie glanced toward the tabby, then turned back to me and cleared her throat. “For the past couple of weeks, mailboxes on my route have been getting vandalized. And mail I know I delivered is also getting reported as never having reached its destination. I know I’m not making any mistakes, but I’m on thin ice at work. The office is blaming me and threatening to put me on administrative leave or even dock my pay to cover the cost of replacing the mailboxes.”

I reached forward and touched her knee sympathetically. “That’s horrible.”

If I wanted to be a good investigator, I needed a good rapport with my clients just as much as I needed my sleuthing skills. Luckily, I’d always adored Julie and considered her—if not quite a friend—a well-liked acquaintance.

Even Octo-Cat appeared moved by her story. He stopped patrolling and jumped up beside her on the couch, then rubbed his head against her hand asking for pets.

“What a sweet kitty,” Julie remarked, which was enough to send him skittering away just as quickly as he’d come. Nobody called him kitty and got away with it. Our guest was just lucky he wasn’t in a swiping mood.

We both watched Octo-Cat settle himself in the window seat and scowl at us from across the room.

“So, you need us to find out who’s taking the mail and damaging the mailboxes so that you won’t keep getting blamed for it,” I summarized.

Julie nodded vigorously, then frowned. “Yes, that would be fantastic. But if you don’t want to help me, I’ll understand.”

“Why wouldn’t we want to help?” My breathing hitched as I waited for her response. The case seemed pretty open and shut, so what could be the problem?

Julie hung her head and let a lone tear fall to her lap. “I can’t pay anything for your help. Ever since the kiddos started college, I’ve had to live paycheck to paycheck, and I’m still drowning in debt. I can’t afford to lose this job, but I also can’t afford to pay you to help me keep it.”

“She expects us to work for free?” Octo-Cat hissed in agitation. “Thank you, next! Move along, sis.”

I glared at him before turning back to Julie with a grin. “We’d be happy to help. No payment required.”

Julie raised her eyes to meet mine, the hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Are you sure? I know it’s asking a lot. I wouldn’t have even thought to ask, but Dorothy insisted and—”

I raised my hand to cut her off. “Totally sure.”

“No, no, no,” Octo-Cat pouted. “What kind of hobbyist works for free? I thought we were running a legitimate operation here?”

I shook my head. Sometimes it was so hard not to talk back to him in the presence of those who didn’t know about our secret connection.

“Totally sure,” I said again, keeping my eyes glued to the irate tabby the whole time.

And now less than fifteen minutes after it started, my meeting with Julie came to an end. “I have to go,” she said, rising to her feet and offering me her hand to shake. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help. I promise I’ll find a way to repay you someday soon.”

“You better!” Octo-Cat spat.

“It’s no problem,” I said with a smile to balance out his obvious agitation. “Our P.I. practice is just that, a practice. We’re happy for the opportunity to keep our skills top-notch.”

Julie sighed wistfully. “It’s really sweet, you and Dorothy doing this together. I hope one day when my girls are a little further away from their teen phase, they’ll want to hang out with me even half as much as you do with your nan.”

I laughed. “Nan’s not really a part of the firm, but we do love spending time together. I’m sure your daughters will come around soon enough.”

“She’s not? Then what’s with all the we and us talk?”

“Oh, um, it’s more like the royal we. I’m the sleuth, but I do bring in outside experts as needed.” I hoped she didn’t notice the way I stumbled over my words and practically tripped coming down the stairs from the shock of my mishap.

I really needed to stop including Octo-Cat when speaking with others. Even the casual we could eventually expose my secret. And as someone who uncovered secrets for a living—you know, theoretically—you’d think I’d be better at hiding them.

“The royal we, indeed,” my cat sneered as he followed us down the stairs.

“Dorothy has my number,” Julie said, lingering near the door. “Thank you again for your help.

“Done already?” Nan appeared, wiping her hands on the edge of her frilly pink polka dot apron.

“I’m in good hands with Angie taking on my case. Thank you for putting us together.”

Nan beamed with obvious pride. “Oh, I’m so glad. Please tell me you’ll stay for dinner. It’s nearly ready.”

“I really can’t, but thank you for the invite.” Julie nodded toward Nan and shook my hand a second time, then excused herself from our home.

“And stay out!” Octo-Cat called as the door latched shut behind her.