Raccoon Racketeer

Chapter Six

Julie, Nan, and I stood in the foyer with Paisley at our heels and Octo-Cat watching from what he deemed a safe distance part-way up the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as Julie’s shoulders shook from crying.

Nan put an arm around the mail lady’s shoulders and offered a tissue she’d pulled from her front pocket.

“I was hardly here for ten minutes,” Julie reminded us. “And yet someone ransacked my truck. I didn’t notice until I’d already driven all the way home, and I still can’t believe it.”

“What’s missing?” I asked, fearing what her answer might be.

“Some packages that I was unable to deliver since I had no one to sign for them.” Her expression grew dark, angry. “I’m already in just about as much trouble as I can get at work. What I’m really upset about is that my lucky angel was taken, too.”

“Doesn’t sound very lucky anymore,” Octo-Cat quipped, then laughed at his own joke, his striped, furry head tilting from side to side.

“Your lucky angel?” I asked, dread rising in my chest. I could always print more flyers or order new copies of my paperwork. A lucky angel sounded like it might be irreplaceable.

“Oh, it’s not an expensive thing, but it was real special to me. It was the first Mother’s Day gift my girls ever bought for me with their own money. It’s mostly glass with a bit of gold-like plating along the edges. I keep it in the glove compartment since it’s fragile. That way, it’s always close enough to keep me company as I go about my day.”

“How’d you find out it was missing?” I asked, resisting the urge to start biting at my fingernails from the mounting anxiety.

Julie got a far-off look in her eyes and she swayed slightly from side to side as if in a dream. “My youngest called to update me on college life. That’s why I was in such a rush to say goodbye after our visit, because I knew she’d be calling to check in after the shift at her part-time job ended tonight. I like to hold onto the angel while I talk with either of my girls. It’s the next best thing to being able to hug them in my arms.”

“But when you went to get it, it wasn’t there,” I finished for her with a sigh.

She nodded and pointed at me. “Exactly.”

“But you knew it was still in your truck before you came to visit us?” This whole thing was giving me a headache. It had to have been Pringle, which meant his kleptomania had reached alarmingly dangerous heights.

“Of course, it was!” Julie exploded. Suddenly, it didn’t feel as if we were allies trying to solve this thing together. “Like I said, it’s my lucky charm, and I figured I’d need a good bit of luck heading into our meeting, hoping you’d agree to help me for free and all.” She dropped her voice to a husky whisper and glanced hesitantly toward Nan. “D-d-d-did you take my angel, Dorothy?”

Oh, no. It was one thing to blame me, but to even think Nan could… Impossible! Of course, I was quick to defend my grandmother. “No way! You and I both know she didn’t, but I have a pretty good idea who did.”

“Let me guess…” Octo-Cat descended the steps slowly and plopped himself between Julie and me. “A certain, up-to-no-good-ever raccoon?”

Paisley began to bark furiously at this. “Big, bad raccoon!” she cried. “He hurt Mommy’s friend!”

Julie glanced nervously toward the upset little dog and stepped closer to the door.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Nan said, lifting Paisley into her arms and giving her a big, wet kiss.

I kept my attention focused squarely on Julie as I explained, “There’s a raccoon with sticky fingers that lives under our front porch. And, well, I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if he’s the one who snuck into your truck and stole your angel. The packages, too.”

“Angie’s also had some things go missing recently,” Nan explained, “and we’ve already caught him red-handed once.”

Julie’s head whipped back at this news as if she’d just received a blow right to her face. “A raccoon is taking your things? You know this for sure, and yet you haven’t exterminated him yet?”

How could I explain that killing the raccoon would be akin to murdering a human in my book? No matter how much he got on my nerves, I would never hurt him to make my life run a little smoother.

“My dear Angie has a soft heart,” Nan explained with a sad smile.

“Can you get it back for me?” Julie asked with another sniffle. I had no idea whether this newest round of tears were caused by sorrow or by hope—or perhaps both at the same time. “Can you get my angel back?”

“Of course, we can,” I said, shooting a worrying glance Nan’s way. If I was going to recover stolen property from a raccoon burrow, I’d need a bit of privacy to do it.

“Dinner’s just about ready,” my grandmother said right on cue. “While Angie is out dealing with the raccoon, I’ll need someone to stay here and eat it with me. C’mon, dear.” She guided Julie toward the dining room before anyone could argue.

I marched out the door with the animals in close pursuit. And even though I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, I had to play it cool or risk Julie overhearing.

“I’ll get him, Mommy!” Paisley volunteered, and before I could stop her she ran into the raccoon’s lair beneath the porch.

“Paisley, no!” I hissed, worry beating its ugly wings within me. “Get back here!”

Pringle was about five times her size and could really hurt her if he felt threatened by her unexpected entry into his home.

“Well, this could all go terribly, terribly wrong,” Octo-Cat said with a sigh. “That’s dogs for you, though. Always doing. Never thinking.” Yes, Paisley had become his closest friend in recent months—and, no, he hadn’t waivered one bit in his prejudice toward dogs. Contradictions were okay in his book, as long as he was the one making them.

Tires crunched in the distance, and I glanced up just in time to see Charles’s car pulling up our long driveway.

He parked right in front of the porch. “Nan told me you’re having a little raccoon problem,” he said as he moved around to the trunk of his car and popped the lid.

“More like a big raccoon problem,” I mumbled.

Charles grabbed a pair of shovels and a flashlight, then slammed the trunk closed again. “Well then, let’s get to work. Shall we?”