by Molly Fitz
Himalayan Hazard
Pet Whisperer P.I.
Molly Fitz
© 2019, Molly Fitz.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Editor: Jennifer Lopez (No, seriously!)
Cover & Graphics Designer: Cover Affairs
Proofreader: Tabitha Kocsis & Alice Shepherd
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Sweet Promise Press
PO Box 72
Brighton, MI 48116
Contents
About This Book
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
What’s Next?
Sneak Peek: Hoppy Holiday Homicide
What’s After That?
More from Blueberry Bay
More Mags!
More Molly!
About This Book
Ever feel like your entire world has been turned on its head? That’s how I’ve felt ever since the gang and I found out that Nan has been keeping major family secrets stashed neatly away in the attic.
What’s worse, we still don’t know exactly what happened, and I have so many follow-up questions, like is she still the same woman I always assumed she was? And can I ever fully trust her again?
With Nan unable to give me a straight answer, I invite my parents to join me for a cross-country train trip so that we can all discover the truth, once and for all.
Octo-Cat hitches a ride with us, too, and it’s a good thing he does, because it isn’t long before a dead body joins us in the dining car. Now we have two mysteries to solve, and fast—our lives and legacy depend on it.
Author’s Note
Hey, new reader friend!
Welcome to the crazy inner workings of my brain. I hope you’ll find it a fun and exciting place to be.
If you love animals as much as I do, then I’m pretty sure you’re going to enjoy the journey ahead.
Himalayan Hazard is just one of my many brain-tickling adventures! Many more will be coming soon, so make sure you sign up for my newsletter or download my app to help you stay in the know. Doing so also unlocks adorable pictures of my own personal feline overlord, Schrödinger, deleted scenes from my books, bonus giveaways, and other cool things that are just for my inner circle of readers.
You can download my free app here:
mollymysteries.com/app
Or sign up for my newsletter here:
mollymysteries.com/subscribe
If you’re ready to dive right in to more Pet Whisperer P.I., then you can even order the next books right now by clicking below:
Hoppy Holiday Homicide
Retriever Ransom
Lawless Litter
Legal Seagull
And make sure you’ve also read the books that come before Himalayan Hazard in the series. They can be read in any order, but you’ll enjoy yourself more if you start at the beginning!
Kitty Confidential
Terrier Transgressions
Hairless Harassment
Dog-Eared Delinquent
The Cat Caper
Chihuahua Conspiracy
Raccoon Racketeer
And don’t miss these special collections!
Pet Whisperer P.I. Books 1-3
Six Merry Little Murders
Okay, ready to talk to some animals and solve some mysteries?
Let’s do this!
Molly Fitz
To anyone who wishes she could talk to her animal best friend…
Well, what’s stopping you?
Chapter One
My name’s Angie Russo, and lately my life has taken one dramatic turn after another. Seriously, where can I even begin?
I guess it all starts with my cat.
Think that sounds boring? Well, think again!
My cat can talk. Only to me, but still.
We met at the law firm where I used to work as a paralegal. I never really loved that job, but I did enjoy having food in my fridge and a roof over my head, so I stayed despite being treated like a glorified secretary and not the shrewd researcher I’d worked so hard to become.
We had a will reading scheduled one morning, and I was called in to make some coffee for the attendees. The machine we had was approximately a million years old and unpredictable even on its best day. This was not one of its best days. All I wanted to do was make the cruddy coffee and get back to work, but—lo and behold—I got electrocuted and knocked unconscious instead.
And when I awoke from that zap, I found a striped cat sitting on my chest and making some pretty mean jokes at my expense. Well, as soon as I realized the voice was coming from him and he realized that I could understand what he said, that cat recruited me to help solve the murder of his late owner.
That’s how I and Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq., P.I. became an item. I’ve since shortened his name to Octo-Cat and have become his official owner—although he’d surely tell you that he’s the one who owns me, and, well… he wouldn’t exactly be wrong.
He came into my life first with a murder mystery and then with a generous trust fund and even more generous list of demands. So now here we are, living in the posh manor house that previously belonged to his late owner, drinking chilled Evian out of Lenox teacups, and operating the area’s best—and only—private investigation firm.
There was a brief upset when a raccoon named Pringle set up a competing business, but we’ve moved past that now. Because, yeah, at first I could only talk to Octo-Cat, but with time, I also gained the ability to communicate with other animals, too.
The regular cast of mammalian characters that make up my life include an eternally optimistic rescue Chihuahua named Paisley, that infamous raccoon racketeer named Pringle—also known as the Master Secret Keeper for our firm—an easily distracted, nut-obsessed squirrel named Maple, and my crazy-daisy, live-in grandmother, Nan.
Frankly, I’d love to add a bird to our merry little gang of forest misfits, but they’re all too frightened to talk to either me or Octo-Cat. Go figure.
And despite our diverse skill set, our P.I. outfit isn’t exactly successful. We’ve only had one case to date, and we weren’t even paid for it. I know it will happen for us eventually if we just stay the course and continue to believe in ourselves…
Um, right?
Well, that’s what Paisley insists, anyway.
Even still, I’ve got this huge new thing in my life that is keeping us plenty busy, with or without work to fill our days. I just discovered that I have a who
le big family in Larkhaven, Georgia, that I never even knew existed until a couple weeks ago. And what’s more, they’ve invited me, my mom, and dad to come down for an extended visit so that we can all get to know each other.
Octo-Cat insists on coming, too. He hates long car rides and refuses to even consider getting on a plane, which means we get to take the train. Whoopee.
Sure, it won’t cost very much, but it will take longer than a day of continuous travel to get there. Still, I can’t exactly leave him behind when he was a big part of helping me locate the hidden branch of our family.
Yeah, Nan had kept them hidden from us for my entire life and my mom’s whole life, too. But now that we’ve found them again, there’s no keeping us apart. Nan doesn’t want to join us, even though Mom and I both assured her she’d be welcome. She still feels guilty about what happened.
Maybe we can convince her to join us for the next visit. I hope we can, because even though she kept a major secret from me, she’s still my best friend and my very favorite person in the whole wide world.
That’s why saying goodbye to her right now is so difficult…
“Promise me you’ll call every single day,” I moaned, hugging my grandmother so tight I had to wonder if she could even breathe.
“Mommy, I’m going to miss you, too!” Paisley, Nan’s five-pound tricolor Chihuahua, cried as she pranced on the platform from the other end of her neon pink leash.
I scooped her up and peppered her adorable little face with kisses. “I’m going to miss you, too,” I cooed in a cutesy, crazy pet lady voice. Talking to the animals like this in public made people think I was weird but kept my secret ability hidden. “Mommy will be back in sixteen days. You can wait sixteen days, can’t you?”
“I don’t know how to count,” Paisley said with a happy bark.
I handed her over to Nan and took Octo-Cat’s cat carrier from my mom so she could get in goodbye hugs, too.
My cat growled during the handoff. “Hey, there’s delicate cargo in here!”
Mom and Nan said a quick goodbye, and then I set Octo-Cat down to hug her again. As pathetic as it might be to admit, I’d never been away from her so long. I’d grown up under her roof and lived with her most of my adult life, too—although now she lived with me rather than the other way around.
Throngs of passengers dragging big wheeled suitcases passed us on either side, and I had to step back to avoid getting hit by a fast-walking woman who was more focused on her phone conversation than where she was going.
“Look,” I told Octo-Cat. “She has a cat carrier, too.”
And she did. Only it was much fancier. I wouldn’t be surprised if the bling adorning the case was actual diamonds—or at least Swarovski crystals.
“Show-off,” my cat muttered, even though I’m pretty sure he’d have loved a decked-out carrier like that to call his own. It didn’t matter that he’d sooner surrender one of his few remaining lives than willingly get inside.
“I’m surprised there are so many people out here,” my dad said, glancing around uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize anyone still took trains when there are so many other options available.”
“It’s romantic,” my mom gushed, leaning into him and possibly squeezing his butt from behind. It seriously grossed me out how in love these two were, even after thirty years of marriage. They sure acted like high schoolers, sometimes.
“I feel like I’m about to rush platform nine and three quarters at King’s Cross for the first time,” I said with a snort and a chuckle.
“When were you at King’s Cross?” my dad asked with a furrowed brow.
Ah, jeez. Sometimes it was hard being the only avid reader in the family. Had my parents seriously not even seen the movies?
“That’s it!” I cried. “We’ve got like thirty hours aboard that train. More than enough time for a Harry Potter movie marathon, and when we get home, I’m lending you my book collection so that we can get you all the way caught up.”
“Homework?” my mom whined.
“Ugh, you’re the worst ever, Mom,” my dad added.
And then they kissed so long and hard that my mom’s foot popped up like a fairytale princess getting her first big kiss. Only this was their six millionth big kiss at least.
This was going to be a very long trip. Very long, indeed.
“The conductor’s waving you over,” Nan said, pointing toward a uniformed man standing just outside of our train car. “Best get a move on.”
“Are you ready?” I asked Octo-Cat.
“Just get me out of this thing,” he grumbled, as if this whole method of travel hadn’t been his idea.
“Relax,” I murmured as we made our way over to the step up into the train. “I’ll have you out in two minutes, and then it will be smooth sailing from there. After all, what’s the worst thing that can happen on a train?”
Famous last words… I really should have known better.
Chapter Two
After giving Nan one last squeeze, the four of us strode up to the train and climbed aboard. Well, Octo-Cat was carried in what he’d deemed his “travel prison.” In the back of the car, I found a grouping of four seats that faced each other, two on each side, and placed Octo-Cat’s carrier onto the aisle seat, taking the spot by the window for myself.
Nan stood exactly where we’d left her on the platform, waving furiously and hopping up and down. “Bon voyage, my dear!”
I laughed and blew her kiss.
“You’re just as embarrassing as she is,” my mom muttered, scooching over in her seat so that she and my dad had not a millimeter of space between them. “No wonder the two of you are always conspiring on something.”
I let that one slide, despite the fact that she and Dad were way more embarrassing than Nan and I would ever be. Mom had always felt sensitive about how close me and my grandmother were, and I knew she felt left out somehow. It was even worse now that we’d recently found out Nan wasn’t her real mother, that she had in fact actively kept her from her birth mom based on the request of the man both women had once loved.
Yeah, we were still untangling that one…
That’s why we were headed down to Larkhaven, Georgia. My grandfather’s side of the family still lived down there and had invited us to come on over for a little family reunion. Of course, we had no idea where my biological grandmother had gone, or even if she was still alive. But one thing at a time.
My dad whispered something in Mom’s ear, and she giggled.
“Gag me on my own hairball,” Octo-Cat drolled beside me. My sentiments exactly.
Passengers continued to pile onto the train. Dull chatter settled around me like a comforting blanket. Perhaps, this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. I watched a mother with two young children settle near the front of the train, then an elderly couple settle a bit closer to us. All kinds of people chose trains over planes, it seemed.
Who’d have ever guessed that the rail travel industry would still be going strong in the twenty-first century? Not me.
A man wearing an old-fashioned fedora and argyle sweater vest slid into the seat across the aisle, then immediately withdrew a rickety looking typewriter and began to pound on the keys. His fingers moved deftly as he added word after word to the sheaf of paper hanging from the top of his old-fashioned machine.
A typewriter on a train. Two anachronisms in one.
Throw in the fedora, and that makes three.
Suddenly the man stopped typing and pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he turned toward me. “What’s a good word for suspicious? Except for more subtle?” His unblinking eyes bored into me as he waited for some kind of genius revelation to spring forth from my mouth.
“Um, odd? Curious?” Kind of like you.
He rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I’m not sure those will work. Ahh, well. I’ll come back to it in the second draft.”
“The second draft? Are you writing a novel?”
That was kind of cool. My nan had always c
laimed she’d write a book, and little by little she had made progress over the past several months—although the book she was working on was a memoir, not a work of fiction. I often wondered if she planned to include the truth about my grandfather and bio-grandma.
“Oh, yes,” the man said with a smile that lit up his whole face. “Not just any novel, the next great American novel. You see, it’s about—”
“Angela!” Octo-Cat cried from inside his carrier, practically panting in his sudden onset of panic. “Get out! Get out now, or we will be forced to spend the entire journey listening to this guy’s delusions of literary grandeur.”
“It sounds wonderful,” I told the aspiring novelist. “Unfortunately, my cat needs to be fed now.”
The tabby yowled pitifully to help sell our story.
I still thought it might be cool to talk to a real live writer, but the fact that this one referred to his unfinished manuscript as the next great American novel was a flashing warning sign. This guy thought he was important, talented, God’s gift to readers, even. I was all for credit where credit was due but believed it was better to let others sing your praises than to belt them out on your own.
“I’ll be back later, okay?” I offered with a friendly smile. I didn’t want to be unsupportive of his dreams, especially since my dream of becoming a full-time P.I. with my talking cat as a partner was every bit as crazy.
