by Molly Fitz
But really, we needed to get on with our mission here, which meant it was time for me to lay down the law. “Hush up and listen already!” I yelled at them both.
When they both fell silent, I continued. “Now, Octo-Cat, you’re going to like this next part.”
I lifted my phone from the table and unlocked it to show the new app I’d downloaded during setup. “Pringle’s going to wear the camera in a chest harness, and I’m going to stream the live feed to my iPhone so I can keep an eye on what’s happening.”
“Okay, but where do I fit into this plan?” my cat asked with an aggravated twitch.
“Two places.” I made a peace sign and wiggled those two fingers, unsure whether either animal could count, but whatever. “First, you’re going to go with Pringle to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t take anything that’s unrelated to our case.”
“Hey,” the raccoon whined. “I resemble that remark.”
I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes I really missed working at the law firm with other humans—sweet, rational humans. “Second, we’re going to use your iPad to FaceTime so you can give me a running commentary to go with the video feed. I’d give you my phone, but I think the buttons would be too tiny to answer with your paws, and I don’t want to take any chances, so—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Octo-Cat slurred, his eyes growing large and greedy. “Are you going to use your iPad or your iPhone to keep tabs on us?”
“Both,” I said with a smile.
“It’s like Christmas and my birthday and Halloween all rolled into one,” he gushed in that accented tone of his.
I nodded vigorously and reached out to pat him on the head. “Yup. Fun, right? We’re all having fun? Yes? Now, Pringle, if you’re ready, I can outfit you in the harness now.”
The raccoon grabbed the camera and turned it over several times in his hands, then gave me an exaggerated wink. “This is some next-level spy stuff. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just full of surprises. And as it turns out, so is Nan. Do you both understand the mission?” I asked as I held the harness up to Pringle’s upper body to get a read on how tight I’d need to make the straps.
The cat and raccoon nodded in unison.
“Octo-Cat, where’s your iPad?” I asked as I finished fastening the harness around Pringle’s chest, then mounted the camera on his back and tested the feed on my phone.
“Dining room table,” the tabby answered and then went with me to retrieve it. “Say, why aren’t you going in there with us?”
“It just feels like too big an invasion of privacy,” I admitted.
“But you’re still going to see everything through the feed, so how is that different?” Octo-Cat deadpanned.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just is.”
Thankfully, he dropped it without playing twenty questions as to my motive. “Fair enough.”
“Thanks for understanding.” I opened the door that led outside again.
“Okay, Pringle, do your thing. Get on the roof, unlock the window, and then come back down to grab the iPad. I’ll leave it right here for you,” I said, setting it on the edge of the porch.
“Octo-Cat, come with me.” He followed me upstairs to our library office, and I opened the large bay window so he could slink onto the roof.
“I’ll wait five minutes to give you two time to get into the room, then I’ll call you on FaceTime,” I called after him. “Make sure you answer.”
“Roger that,” my cat said, turning to glance at me over his shoulder and offering an agreeable smile before disappearing from sight.
This was it. Either we’d soon find some of the answers I’d been searching for… or we’d be nearly out of places we could look.
Unfortunately, if the animals didn’t turn up anything in their search, I had no idea what we’d do next. It was looking more and more like I’d need to choose to let it go or force a confrontation with Nan.
Yay, me.
Chapter Fifteen
I headed outside to the front porch, both because I knew it would offer me better reception and so that I could keep an eye out for Nan just in case she finally decided to return home and face the situation head-on.
After settling myself on the steps, I took out my phone and studied the feed from our Pringle cam. I could see his focused expression reflected back in the glass as he fiddled with the window. His eyes lit up a few moments later as he raised the window high enough for Octo-Cat to squeeze through, then turned back the other way, providing me with an impressive aerial view of the forest that flanked our yard.
Fast as a shot, he appeared at my side and grabbed Octo-Cat’s iPad from the stoop. “I’ll be taking that now. Thank you very much.”
For all his issues, the raccoon really was a great accomplice with an impressive skill set. It was also far easier on my conscience to let him do the dirty work so that I wouldn’t have to.
Pringle, of course, had no trouble bending the rules of propriety or in scaling the house with the tablet tucked into his chest and held in place by one furry black hand. Hardly a minute later, he’d made it back to Nan’s window, raised it a bit higher, and entered the locked bedroom without even a second’s hesitation.
This was it. We were really doing it. I grabbed my iPad and placed a FaceTime call to Octo-Cat.
He answered after a few rings, his face leaning over the device and showing me the same view of kitty double chin I got any morning I dared try to sleep in past his breakfast time. “Badges. We don’t need no stinking badges,” he informed me needlessly.
And what was with all these movie quotes? Did he even sleep anymore or just fill his brain with anything that would fit inside?
“Good job,” I told him, finding his enthusiasm adorable despite everything. “Keep an eye on Pringle, and keep me informed as you two search the room.”
“Yes, Angela. I remember my role in all this,” he murmured, already moving out of view.
Pringle had already made his way to Nan’s dresser and was pulling open drawers willy-nilly. “Lacy underwear!” he cried with a giggle. “Oh, Nan, I had no idea!”
“Cut that out!” I shouted so loud they could probably hear me without the FaceTime connection. “You’re there to look for clues, and that’s it.”
“Open this for me,” I heard Octo-Cat say and then watched as Pringle approached the spot where my cat waited by the nightstand.
The raccoon pulled the drawer clear off the tracks and laughed as it clattered to the floor. “This is fun!” he squealed.
Well, there would be no hiding the fact we’d been in her room, even though I technically hadn’t.
“Hey, look! I found a piece of paper with writing on it!” my cat cried in excitement.
Pringle bounded over and grabbed the paper, but I couldn’t make out the words on the camera as the raccoon read. “It’s just an old shopping list,” he said, balling it up and tossing it back in the drawer. I sure hoped his assessment was right and he hadn’t just discarded an important piece of the puzzle.
Maybe I should just go up there and instruct the two of them on how they could unlock the door from inside. Still, I remained frozen in place, unable to cross that invisible boundary.
“Be respectful of my nan’s things!” I cried in a half-hearted attempt to exert some control over the situation.
“Why?” Pringle asked in a distracted voice as he continued to lope around the bedroom. “Think about it. Was she respectful of you when she hid such an important truth just out of reach?”
Darn him and his logical points.
“Still,” I muttered. “Just, please.”
“You heard the lady!” Octo-Cat growled. “Keep it professional here.”
Oh, how I loved my kitty. He was definitely the next best thing to being there myself, and I was proud of him for staying on task.
The fuzzy duo searched around the room a while longer, finding nothing of consequence.
“Good thinking,” Pringle said and then lumbered over to the nearest baseboard. He kicked and punched to no avail; not a single board budged.
“Hey! I think I found something!” Octo-Cat shouted from across the room. Oh my gosh. Was this it? The moment of truth?
“Coming!” Pringle called. The camera bounced unevenly as he raced toward Octo-Cat, who sat on top of the dresser—the first place they’d searched.
At that very same moment, the hum of an engine alerted me to the little red sports car pulling up our driveway.
Nan had come home.
“Mommy, I’m back!” Paisley cried from the open window, and while I was happy to see her, this meant that I had zero time to send a warning message to the guys upstairs.
“Paisley! Nan! Welcome home!” I shouted while closing the video feed and ending the FaceTime call. I hoped the animals engaged in the spy operation upstairs had heard and understood that they needed to get the heck out of there. Subtlety wasn’t exactly a strong suit for either of them.
Nan pulled into the garage, and I raced after her before she could run away from me again. Maybe she was finally ready to give me some answers. At the very least, I might be able to distract her long enough to buy some time for Octo-Cat and Pringle to escape.
“I missed you!” Paisley bounded out of the car and ran over to me, begging to be picked up.
I was all too happy to oblige. “I missed you, too. Both of you.”
Nan looked as if she hadn’t slept the whole time she’d been gone. Perhaps she hadn’t. Still, she attempted a reserved smile. Of course, the Nan I knew had never been reserved a day in her life. What had happened to her, and why was it all coming to a head now?
“Are you okay?” I asked gently.
She shook her head. “Not really. No.”
“Can we talk about it?” I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook me off.
Nan took a deep breath, then retreated into herself. I’d never seen her look so old or broken, and it worried me greatly. Tears rimmed her red eyes. “I never thought I’d have to speak of it again, especially not to you.”
“I’m here, and I love you, no matter what.”
She shook her head sadly. “It will change things, Angie.”
“It already has,” I whispered as I attempted to hold back fresh tears of my own.
Nan looked away and murmured, “I can’t.” Then brushed past me into the house.
Guilt surged inside my chest. Maybe this was one mystery that didn’t need to be solved. Maybe I just needed to leave it alone and move on with my life the way things had been before Pringle showed me that secret letter.
I wished I could turn away, but I was already in too deep. This wasn’t a simple curiosity; it was my life.
And I needed to know the truth.
Chapter Sixteen
After Nan abandoned me in the garage, I went back to sit on the porch. Lately, I’d been spending more time out here than inside the house, it seemed.
Paisley ambled after me, wagging her tail as usual, but slowly, cautiously. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Although she couldn’t communicate with Nan like she did me, I still felt uncomfortable saying anything bad about her best friend, the woman who had rescued her from the overcrowded shelter and given her a home.
Where was Nan now? Had she made it to her room? Had she spotted the mess made by the animals and known I was the one to put them up to it? Would she ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive her?
“I just feel sad,” I told the sympathetic Chihuahua at last.
“Sometimes I get sad,” the little dog said, snuggling onto my lap. “But then you know what I do? I decide to stop being sad and just be happy instead.”
I smiled and scratched her between the ears. “That’s very smart, Paisley. Hey, did you and Nan have a nice adventure?”
I was more looking for a change of topic than any additional dirt on Nan, but then it occurred to me that if I asked the right questions, Paisley might be able to crack this case wide open. She was with Nan practically every waking hour—slept in her room, too. How much did she pay attention? How much did she know?
She closed her eyes and rolled over on my lap to expose her belly for scratches. “The car ride was great, and I liked smelling the new smells, but I would have rather been home, all of us together.”
“Aww, I know how you feel. Where did the two of you go?” I asked, unable to resist.
She squinted one eye open. “I’m not sure. It was a small clean room with a big bed. Nan and I cuddled and slept a lot. We also watched TV quite a bit. I know Octavius likes it, but I think it’s pretty boring just watching things happen in a small glass box. I’d much rather be doing them myself.”
“Yet another smart observation,” I said with a sad smile. It sounded like Nan had holed up in some kind of a motel rather than talk to me. Fabulous.
I sighed and continued to stroke the happy little dog. She trusted so easily, so completely. Why couldn’t I be like that? I had no doubt she was the most contented among us, and it wasn’t because ignorance was bliss. Paisley was incredibly smart, yet somehow still able to push all her problems to the side and choose happiness each and every day.
We sat like that for a while until Pringle appeared from the side yard and bolted up the steps, which immediately sent Paisley barking.
She bounded off my lap and stood guard beside me, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! The big bad raccoon is back!”
The raccoon groaned and shook his head. “Are we really going to do this every time? Every single time?” he asked me with an exhausted huff.
“It’s okay, Paisley.” I picked her back up and set her on my lap.
She whined but stayed in place.
Pringle came closer, something small and rectangular clutched in one hand.
“What did you find, Pringle?”
The pet door beeped, and Octo-Cat stepped out to join us. “What a thrill!” he exclaimed. “I really thought we were going to be caught there for a second.”
Pringle put an arm around the tabby and smiled. “Stick with me, kid. Every day’s an adventure.”
Both laughed.
Crud. For the sake of this case, it was nice that they’d managed to put their differences aside, but going forward? Pringle wasn’t exactly the best influence on my somewhat sweet, somewhat bitter tabby cat.
“Can I see what you have there?” I asked again, reaching out my hand.
“Certainly.” The raccoon placed an old photograph in my hand. I immediately recognized a much younger Nan but didn’t know the man who stood at her side with a cheesy grin and two deep dimples to match.
“We found it tucked into the corner of the mirror. Right out in the open,” Octo-Cat informed me, a self-satisfied smile stretching between his whiskers.
“Go ahead. Flip it over,” Pringle urged.
“Dorothy and William, summer 1968,” I read aloud and gasped. “William? That’s him?”
Pringle nodded and shrugged. “Seems so.”
Right out in the open, just as Octo-Cat had said. I probably could have discovered this picture a dozen times if I’d ever stopped to study the collage of keepsakes she kept tucked into the edges of the mirror that hung above her dresser.
“They’re holding hands,” Octo-Cat pointed out. “Like you and UpChuck do all the time.”
“She seems smitten,” I said breathlessly as I noticed the way her eyes shone, the coy smile that played at her lips as she stared at him dreamily. “Like she loved him.”
“Sad to say, doesn’t look like he feels the same way,” Pringle pointed out, and he was right about that, too. William stood stiff, his eyes focused in the distance rather than at my lovesick nan.
&nbs
p; Octo-Cat traipsed over and sat down beside me. “He’s right. When you’re with UpChuck, you look just like that.” He touched his nose down onto the portrait of Nan. “But so does he. This guy looks happy, but not in love. Not like you and UpChuck or Baby and Johnny. Not even like Harry and Sally, and we all know what a mess their relationship was in the beginning.”
“Who are Harry and Sally?” Paisley asked, giving her friend a lick hello.
Octo-Cat rolled his eyes lovingly. “Yeesh. I have a lot to catch you up on, dog,” he said as if the events of his movie marathoning were an actual part of real life. Crazy cat.
I glanced back down at the photo and frowned.
Was Nan hiding a broken heart? A sad tale of unrequited love? It still didn’t explain the letter or the birth certificate. Had William used his hold on her emotions to make her do something awful?
“Poor Nan,” I whispered.
Paisley whined, even though I wasn’t sure she knew why we were sad in that moment.
The other two said nothing.
We sat like that for a while as I considered my next move. The animals had been a huge help so far, but I needed a second opinion—a human opinion.
“I’m calling Charles,” I informed them. Yes, Charles. He wasn’t just the love of my life; he was also the smartest and most hardworking person I knew. He didn’t become the youngest law firm partner in Blueberry Bay history by phoning it in.
I was afraid I’d reached a dead end, but maybe he’d be able to shed some new light on these old secrets from the past.
At the very least, he could give me the hug I so desperately needed to give me the strength to keep going.
Chapter Seventeen
Charles came home from work early so we could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening going over everything I’d learned during the past couple of days.
“I’ve been so worried about you,” he said now that we were cuddled together on his stiff, modular couch. “Has Nan opened up to you about any of this yet?”
