Retriever Ransom

Chapter Six

After Mayor Dennison left, Nan, the animals, and I huddled together at the large dining room table to recap.

“So we have another kidnapping,” Nan said thoughtfully. “We’ve dealt with those before. Recently at that.”

She was right. I’d already been thinking about our past abduction cases myself. They had both proven to be the most nerve-wracking investigations I’d ever faced. Both had hit incredibly close to home, too.

First, Octo-Cat disappeared at the exact same time the other beneficiaries of Ethel Fulton’s will had called for an arbitration in an attempt to relieve him of his inheritance. The culprit in that case had been exceedingly angry when we’d found Octo-Cat and taken him back—she’d even wound up with a nasty cat-inflicted wound that would probably scar. We’d seen neither hide nor hair of the folks involved in that kidnapping in the time since.

Then the second one happened. On Christmas Eve, my cousin Mags had been taken right off the street at the annual Holiday Spectacular fair. She’d been kept blindfolded and was ultimately let go when the crooks—a man and a woman—got spooked and ran.

They’d meant to take me but had mistakenly abducted my eerily similar looking cousin instead. They called her “Russo”—my last name—and warned her to keep her nose out of places where it didn’t belong.

Well, Mags had returned to her home in Larkhaven, Georgia, no worse for the wear, and we hadn’t heard from her mysterious kidnappers since.

I doubted the ransomed retriever had anything to do with either of those cases, but reviewing our history at least gave us a place to start with this new investigation.

“Are you thinking about when Mags and Octo-Cat were taken?” Nan asked, steepling her fingers and tapping them against her chin.

I nodded, then sighed. “Both were so horrible.”

“Mark is probably going out of his mind with worry for his poor dog,” she said with a wrinkled frown.

“Actually, I’m not so sure.” I shot a glance toward Octo-Cat, who’d seated himself on the opposite side of the table and taken up a vigorous grooming session focused primarily on his forehead and ears.

He paused and nodded his approval.

“Per Octo-Cat, the mayor was lying to us. Or at least hiding something important,” I revealed as I played the conversation back through my head.

“About which part?” Nan wondered aloud.

I shook my head, yet again wishing I knew the answer.

She snorted. “Well, that’s helpful.”

“Still, at least we know to take what little he told us with a giant grain of salt.”

Nan considered this, then stood suddenly, flinging her chair backward with such force it startled me and both animals.

“Where are you going?” I asked as she scurried toward the coat closet off the foyer.

She didn’t look back as she explained, “If the mayor isn’t going to tell us the truth, then we’ll have to go find it for ourselves.”

“Online?” I asked meekly even as she’d already begun to pull on her hot-pink snow boots.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Outside.”

Ugh. That was the exact place I wanted to avoid, given our current polar vortex situation.

“I’m not going,” Octo-Cat said from his place a few stairs up from the ground floor.

I paused between shoving my mitten on one hand and readying it for the other. “Why not? You always come. You’re my partner, after all.”

He turned his nose up at me. “Yeah, well, this partner doesn’t do subzero temperatures.”

“It’s still at least five degrees out there. And this isn’t some stupid jog, it’s part of our investigation. C’mon.”

“Let me rephrase that.” He paused and took several deep breaths before continuing. “I don’t do cold and wet. It’s like the whole world decided to take a bath and then let the water grow frigid. I don’t do baths. And if my fur coat isn’t enough to keep warm, then I’m not going.”

“Fine. Then you’re not going. But you also better not complain about being left out.” I turned away from him and began to dress for the impromptu outing.

“Please. I have better things to do with myself than follow you around on your wild goose chase.” He yawned to emphasize his point.

Paisley ran up beside Octo-Cat, wagging her tail so vigorously she stumbled and fell down one of the steps. “Mommy, I’m coming, right?”

“Of course you are!” I assured her.

“Just one last thing and we can go,” Nan said, reaching for a plastic shopping bag on the top shelf of the closet and pulling out a baby pink sack. “It’s the wrong shade of pink, but it will have to do.”

I eyed the cloth accessory warily. “What is it?”

“I’ll show you! C’mere, my sweet girl.” Nan smacked her lips and bent down to pick up the Chihuahua who came running straight into her arms. She then worked the straps of the sack over her arms so that it rested against her chest.

Paisley realized what was going on about the same time I did and began to wiggle in desperate fright. “No, no, no! I don’t want to go in the bag!” she yelped.

“Just hold still for a second, my dear,” Nan instructed, wrestling with the Chihuahua to wedge her into the baby carrier.

Paisley continued to whine and squirm.

“Angie, can you please tell her this will be a lot easier if she cooperates?” Nan grunted.

“Sweetie, you need to—” I began, but Nan interrupted with a triumphant “Ah-ha!”

The poor little Chihuahua had been tucked into the carrier and strapped in securely. Only her tiny face and giant ears peeked out from the top.

Nan spun and posed. “What do you think?”

Octo-Cat laughed heartily. “Ha, ha, you look ridiculous!” he crowed.

Paisley whimpered and sighed.

“I’m not so sure she likes it,” I offered.

“Well, she just has to get used to it is all. It will help keep her warm while we’re out and about. It’s made especially for little dogs like her, you know. By the way, you’ll have to drive. We can take my car, though.”

“Okay,” I said and followed my grandmother outside to her car. It was easier to just go along with what she said. At least this wouldn’t require any grueling exercise.

Or so I sincerely hoped…