The Cat Caper

Chapter Fourteen

Nan and I sat down cross-legged in the grass, and the two animals settled down across from us.

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking…” I said, then launched into a winded explanation of my new plan.

“Oh, we should get a pet GPS tracker,” Nan added. “I’ve heard, uh, good things about them.” She beamed at me as if I’d just crowned her Ms. Maine. Weird.

“Sure, we can pick one of those up this afternoon,” I conceded. It was a good suggestion, but also pretty high tech for a woman who’d only just begun to send and receive text messages.

“Also get some peanut butter while you’re out,” Maple suggested rather unhelpfully.

“First results, then rewards,” Pringle scolded his squirrel squire. Yup, this raccoon was definitely a keeper.

I reached out and gave him a high five, and thanks to his constant human surveillance, Pringle knew just what to do. He may have worshipped Octo-Cat, but he clearly knew more than the idol of his affections.

“That’s right,” I said, exchanging my goofy grin for a granite jaw and narrowed eyes. “Nothing is more important than bringing Octo-Cat home. Nothing. Not even peanut butter.”

Maple gasped.

Pringle cheered.

Nan looked confused but still quite enthusiastic. “What’s my role in all this, dear?” she asked, once everyone had quieted again.

This was the tough part. I didn’t technically need Nan to carry out my plan, but I knew better than to exclude her.

“You’ll keep running command central, and you can help me stay awake tonight, too. Also wardrobe. You’re definitely in charge of wardrobe.”

She appeared pleased by this. “I’ll make cocoa and call the guys.”

Ugh, not this again. Why couldn’t she have become obsessed with my lack of a love life some other time? It’s not as if I were newly single. It had always just been me against the world.

I shook my head emphatically. “The guys? No. We don’t need Cal and Charles for this.”

Nan elbowed me in the ribs. “They’re nice distractions, though. Eh?”

I just rolled my eyes rather than dignify her ill-timed matchmaking efforts with a response. “Does everyone understand what they need to do?”

“Yes,” Nan and Pringle said in unison. Both looked ready for action.

Maple, however, raised her tiny brown hand. “Um, I forgot,” she squeaked meekly.

“It’s okay, kid. Come with me and I’ll catch you up.” Pringle stood on all fours and motioned for the squirrel to follow him back to his under-porch apartment. It looked like we were done playing knights of the round table now—and for that, I was very thankful, indeed.

“I do love a good stakeout,” Nan confided in me as we made our way back to the house. “You get the GPS tracker, and I’ll head to the supermarket to pick up some snacks and drinks for our little get-together tonight.”

I stopped walking and stared at my grandmother. “Are you really going to invite the guys? This isn’t exactly a social event. At least it shouldn’t be.”

Nan traced her way back to me and wrapped me in a hug. “I know that, dear, but it helps to have good friends by your side when the going gets tough.”

Well, I couldn’t exactly argue with her there. “Okay,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t be too embarrassed by whatever she had planned for the evening.

Then again, this was Nan we were dealing with…

Of course I was going to be embarrassed.

Our stakeout party began at ten that night. Pringle had explained the plan to Maple at least a couple dozen times, and they’d even run test drills both with and without the pet GPS.

Charles and Cal came over right at ten, taking care to hide their vehicles around back. Our entire plan hinged on the ransom note writer coming back that night, and we needed him to assume that the house lay quiet and empty, which meant our party was now taking place in the pitch dark without even a candle to light the room.

We kept our voices low, too, as we whispered and conversed with each other. The whole thing was strangely intimate. We all wore comfortable black sweats—provided by Nan, of course—and sipped warm thermoses of hot cocoa—also provided by Nan.

“Are you sure the person is going to come back tonight?” Cal asked from my left.

“He has to, since he didn’t leave any way for Angie to get in touch,” Charles answered from my right.

They both sat close enough for me to feel their body heat as it crashed into mine. It didn’t escape my notice that these were the two most handsome men I knew now—or had ever known, really. One had brains for days while the other was all brawn. Both had huge hearts, but there in the dark, without their good looks to distract me, I knew there was only one man my heart craved.

And he was the one who was already taken.

Because that’s how my life worked. Darn.

“Are you nervous?” Charles whispered in my ear.

“More excited than nervous,” I answered, wondering if he felt little zips of electricity jump between us, too.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. We were so close that I felt the vibrations, too. “It’s Breanne,” he said, pushing a button to send the call straight to voicemail.

A small, petty part inside me did a cartwheel. He was choosing me over her. At least for this. At least for right now.

Around eleven thirty, a sound from outside drew everyone’s attention toward the window.

“Shhh,” I reminded them all. “We have to hang back, stay out of sight, and trust in the plan now.”

“Yes, the plan will set us free,” Nan whisper-yelled.

Poor Cal still didn’t know I could talk to animals. He thought the plan involved high-tech video cameras and a sophisticated booby trap. Little did he know that one nocturnal raccoon was watching carefully from his spot beneath the porch, and one forgetful but lithe squirrel was already equipped with a GPS and ready to hurl herself into our mysterious catnapper’s car the moment the raccoon gave the okay.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Pringle charged through the cat door to alert us that the plan was underway.

“C’mon, Cal. Why don’t you help me in the kitchen?” Nan guided him away before he could set sights on the newly arrived raccoon visitor holding a second ransom note between his paws.

“Good work, Pringle.” I grabbed the note and patted him on the head, then Charles and I burst out into the night. We’d already agreed that he would drive, and I’d navigate by following the tiny tracking dot attached to Maple, who had already stowed away in the car and was now being driven to who knew where.

As curious as I was, I didn’t even glance at the new ransom note. Instead, I focused on following that blinking dot, hoping it would take us to Octo-Cat and end this whole terrible ordeal once and for all.

Charles drove effortlessly as I called out each turn. We weren’t far behind the catnapper now. Soon the three of us would come face-to-face, and I’d be able to demand answers to my many, many questions.

“This is weird,” Charles muttered as we pulled into a sleepy suburb. “I know someone who lives here.”

“Yeah, well, Glendale is a pretty small town. Most of us do,” I said, staring at the phone so that I wouldn’t miss a single beat.

“Charles,” I shouted in excitement. “The dot stopped!”

This was it. We were getting our boy back, and we were getting him back now.

“Where?” he asked, a darkness I didn’t understand overtaking his features.

“Just a few driveways ahead. Looks like it’s the—”

“Yellow Cape Cod?” he asked at the same time he pulled into the driveway and transitioned us to park.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” I asked in shock. Was he just a good guesser, or—?

“This is Breanne’s house,” he revealed with a low growl from deep in his throat.

Uh-oh.