by Molly Fitz
Nan frowned and her voice dropped into a husky pout. “Oh, but you always say what I want to hear. I need an impartial opinion.” She spun around again, this time searching the room as if she didn’t know Peter was the only other person around.
“You there!” she called, erupting into a full, sparkling smile as her eyes landed on a watchful Peter. “Can I count on you to give me your honest opinion? There’s a free dessert in it for you, if you agree.”
Peter hopped to his feet and sauntered over to join us. “I was hoping you’d ask.” Without waiting for any further invitation, he grabbed two pastries from the stack and ate them in giant, appreciative bites.
“So good,” he smacked, his mouth still full. “You should definitely serve these at your party.”
Nan frowned again. “But you haven’t tried the other options. How do you know for sure that these are the best?”
Peter chuckled and took a third apple turnover. “If they’re all this good, then you have nothing to worry about.”
Nan placed one gloved hand on Peter’s arm and the other on mine. “Oh, I know!” Her eyes sparkled with the promise of a new idea, even though I had no doubt she’d arrived at the firm with this exact script already written and memorized. “Would you mind stopping by later tonight to try some of the others and offer your expert opinion on which is best?”
Peter faltered as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Today he wore a tight t-shirt that had a bowtie and shirt collar printed onto it. He’d paired this with dark wash jeans and what I guessed was unintentional bed head. “Oh, I don’t know if—”
“Please?” Nan begged, casting a pathetic shrug his way. “This party is so important to me. It might be the last I ever get to throw before God takes me back to the great dinner party in the sky.”
Wow, she went there. She really went there.
“Oh, well. Sure, okay,” Peter answered with a puzzled gaze that he quickly transitioned into a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”
Nan perked up instantly. “Lovely. See you tonight, dear. Six o’clock?”
This whole time they spoke, Peter simpered at Nan and studiously ignored me. So, he only hated me, it seemed. At least I knew Nan believed me about his antagonism, even if my colleagues didn’t.
He nodded now and took another two treats for himself. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Excellent,” Nan declared, then pushed the glass dish at Peter. “Why don’t you keep these to remember me by? Just don’t spoil your appetite for tonight.” She reached up and pinched his cheek, then to my horror made a kissy face before letting go.
“Well, my dear,” she said, turning back my way. “This gown may look divine, but it doesn’t quite have the movement I need for an entire evening spent wearing it. Back to the boutique it goes!”
I nodded dumbly.
She glanced over my shoulder toward Peter and blew him one last kiss goodbye. “Now I must be off. Angie has the address. Toodles!” And just like that, Nan blew out of the office every bit as quickly as she’d entered.
I headed back to the desk while Peter slumped down into one of the thick armchairs in our waiting area, helping himself to yet another turnover. “That was weird,” he said.
I shrugged. “That was Nan.”
He studied the pastry in his hand, then widened his eyes and shoved it into his mouth. “She’s fun. I like her.”
I shot him a polite, fake smile, then tried to return my focus to work.
Peter, however, seemed in the mood for a chat. “It’s really too bad you don’t take after her,” he informed me with a sigh. “We’d have a much better time at work if you did.”
I pretended I hadn’t heard him, but he kept talking anyway.
“You don’t look much like her, either. Maybe you inherited something else from her. You know, besides personality and looks. Maybe some secret trait or talent. Hmm?” He chuckled and brushed his sticky fingers against his jeans. “I guess we’ll find out tonight.”
Indeed we would. Poor Peter had no idea he was walking straight into a trap. Nan may seem crazy on the surface, but she’s the best sleuth I know. Her interrogation skills are also top-notch.
Not to mention, Octo-Cat and I would also be there and ready to pounce on even the slightest suspicion. It may have been easy for him to pick on me at work, but my house was my fortress and filled with everyone who loved me most. For all his faults, I knew Octo-Cat would also do whatever it took to protect me. Even all these months later, he still found new and terrifying ways to surprise me.
Peter Peters didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Five
Nan put me to work the moment I stepped through the door. She tossed me an apron and declared me in charge of mixing batter and rolling dough, the two tasks that were the most difficult to mess up, I noticed.
“It’s all hands on deck. Only five hours until go time, and we have to make our ruse look believable,” she explained with a curt nod. She’d changed out of her black satin gown from earlier and was now wearing a dainty crushed velvet number patterned with Chinese dragons. She’d replaced her smoky eye with a shimmering gold shadow and had contoured her cheeks like a Kardashian.
“I expect you to dress up, too, my dear,” she explained while studying my unassuming floral dress with its giant, oversized belt and large hoop earrings as if it was the worst outfit anyone on earth had ever cobbled together.
Octo-Cat laughed between licks of his paw. “Being a human can be the pits, huh? A cat would never…” His eyes grew comically wide as his words trailed into oblivion.
I followed his line of sight to where Nan had been rummaging through the junk drawer. She now held out a red bow tie as she moved toward Octo-Cat with a broad, reassuring smile that only seemed to heighten his discomfort. “You, too, young man. We must all look our best tonight.”
Nan then proceeded to fasten the bowtie to his collar with skilled and gentle fingers, but she may as well have been strangling the cat, given his over-the-top reaction.
“I am tainted!” he cried, shaking and twitching and throwing himself against the tile floor repeatedly. “Don’t you know? I was born with all the clothes I’ll ever need. So why add this? It’s even the same color as that wretched dot! That’s just taking things too far.”
He heaved a giant sigh and fell over on his side when Nan had finished. I had to admit, he looked rather dashing. I did not, however, admit that aloud, or else I’d end up with cat puke in my bed.
Instead, I simply covered my mouth and tittered softly against my hand.
Nan smiled at our tabby approvingly. “Very handsome,” she said in a way that was reminiscent of how she’d talked to Peter at the office that morning.
Octo-Cat continued to shriek and toss himself around the kitchen, pausing only briefing to shake his head and whisper, “Et tu, Nan? I thought you loved me.”
“Chin up. It could be worse,” I told him as I continued stirring and stirring until my hand cramped from the vigorous, repetitive motion.
“I don’t see how,” my cat told me, rolling onto his back and wiggling back and forth in an ill-fated attempt to shimmy loose of his adornment.
“Well, for starters, you’re going to have to spend time with Peter tonight. Peter’s the worst,” I explained with a shudder as I placed the bowl back on the counter and flexed my hand. I would definitely be getting Nan a stand mixer for the next gift-giving holiday. Sure, they cost a lot, but it would be worth it to save my hands, and hers, too.
Nan popped a tray into the oven, but we had so many different dishes underway that I had no idea what was on it. “Now, Angie,” she said, turning back toward me with a wagging finger. “If Operation: My Enemy is My Friend is to be a success, you need to commit to character.”
“Hey, I never agreed to take on a character and, by the way, neither did he.” I tilted my head toward Octo-Cat, who was too busy trying to find a way out of his collar to notice I’d just stuck up for him. Figured.
Nan
tutted. “If you don’t believe it, then how will our guest?” she asked, then grabbed my wrist and pulled me to attention. “It is an honor to have Peter with us tonight. We’re friends, and as such, we tell each other things without hesitation.”
“Like what he knows and how he found out?” I said drolly.
“Precisely,” she said, punctuating the word by jabbing a dripping spatula at my apron. “But if you remain hostile, we won’t get anywhere. Can you soften up a little so that we don’t have to fall back on plan B please?”
“What’s plan B?” I asked, biting my lip as I waited for the answer.
Nan let out a little laugh. “Well, we—”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter,” I interrupted. It would be easier if I didn’t know too much ahead of time. I was a terrible actress, anyway. “I’m in. The sooner we figure out the deal with Peter, the sooner we can be done and rid of him.”
“Now there’s the sweet girl I raised,” Nan said with a chuckle, returning to the other side of the kitchen to ice an enormous layered cake.
Octo-Cat flopped onto my feet, rubbing himself all over my socks until they practically changed color from all the shucked off fur. “I… can’t… breathe,” he exclaimed between gasps. “I think this is how I die!”
I bent down to pet him and slipped my fingers beneath his collar to make sure it wasn’t suddenly too tight. “It’s just for a little while,” I assured him. “I promise we’ll take it off the moment Peter leaves.”
He sat up and swished his tail behind him as he thought. A scary smile stretched across his fuzzy little face. “So, if he were to leave sooner rather than later, I could have my freedom?”
I nodded emphatically. I had no idea how he intended to make that happen, but if agreeing meant he’d try to help tonight, then I was all for making a deal. “Yes, definitely. I don’t want him around, either,” I reminded my cat.
“Then our goals align.” Octo-Cat returned to all four feet and blinked hard. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to prepare.”
I watched him trot away, then moved to wash my hands in the sink so I could get back to work. Nan didn’t need to know about whatever Octo-Cat had planned. In reality, I didn’t even know what he had planned, but I had no doubt it would be amusing—if not mortifying. It was starting to feel as if I didn’t even need to do anything now that Nan and Octo-Cat both had grand plans of their own.
Once I’d done all I could to help in the kitchen, Nan ushered me upstairs and informed me that I would be wearing my red party dress with tiny white polka-dots that evening. Well, at least Octo-Cat and I would match for the upcoming festivities.
I bided my time, even going so far as painting my nails a shining ruby red, figuring that Nan would appreciate this small gesture of my commitment to the character. By the time I floated back down the stairs, Peter seemed to have just arrived. He stood inside the foyer with Nan, wearing the exact same outfit he’d had on earlier that day.
“Well, don’t you look quite fetching,” Nan said kindly as she studied the faux tux printed on his old T-shirt. “I love the irony of that ensemble. So clever.”
Peter raked a hand through his messy hair and gave her a boyish grin, charmed as anyone who found themselves the subject of Nan’s attentions.
Octo-Cat came racing down the stairs as well, a glint of determination shining in his amber eyes. “This ends now,” he ground out as he passed me.
He walked straight up to Peter and rubbed against his legs while purring. Next, he transitioned to his hind legs and pawed at Peter’s knees. He didn’t do that for anyone. Not ever. Man, he must have been really desperate to get rid of that bowtie. I’d definitely have to remember that trick the next time I needed to trick him into doing something.
“He likes you,” Nan said with a wink. “Why don’t you pick him up?”
“I’m really more of a dog person,” Peter said hesitantly.
“A dog person?” Octo-Cat asked in horror. “Blech. Gag me with a spoon. But, yeah, I can smell that canine stink all over this one. Totally not surprised.”
Peter flinched, then cracked his neck on either side. “Should we go try the desserts? After all, that is why you invited me. Right?”
“Yes, dear. Come along.” Nan led him toward the dining room while Octo-Cat and I stayed behind in the foyer.
“Was it just me, or…?” I began but let my words trail off. He’d flinched in response to what Octo-Cat had said. I was sure of it, and yet… there was no way. It was far too crazy to be believed.
“He reacted to me,” Octo-Cat agreed. “I thought so, too.”
“It was probably just a fluke,” I said, keeping my voice low so as not to be overheard by Nan and Peter in the next room.
“But if it wasn’t…” Octo-Cat shook his head and took a deep breath. “Now I’m just as curious as you are. Something’s off about this one, and I’m going to prove it. C’mon, Angela.”
He trotted off and I trailed helplessly behind, wondering what my cat could possibly have planned now and also wondering if Peter might really be like me. Did he get zapped by that old coffee maker, too?
I desperately hoped I’d have the answer by the time the evening was through, because if this big production didn’t work, we probably wouldn’t get another chance.
Peter already seemed on guard that evening. Had he finally realized that we might be on to him just as much as he was on to us? And if he didn’t want to be found out, then why was he working so hard to push my buttons?
Was everything in my overworked imagination, or was my entire world about to change?
I honestly didn’t know which option I preferred…
Chapter Six
Nan looked utterly beguiling in her getup for that evening. She’d even woven jade chopsticks through her hair in a fancy upswept hairstyle that complemented her angular bone structure quite nicely.
She often wore Asian-inspired garments, preferring their smooth, flowing lines to the more rigid structure of traditionally Western clothing. Between her style choices and my predilection for all things eighties, we really did make quite the pair.
I preferred eighties fashion simply because it was great fun. Nan, on the other hand, had done a brief tour abroad during the Vietnam War—not as a soldier, but rather an entertainer—and she’d fallen in love with everything about that part of the world. She’d managed to visit Japan, China, and Thailand over the years, too, and was greatly looking forward to the day when I’d finally agree to accompany her for an extended visit of all her favorite places. As for me, I wanted to get to know myself a little better before I ventured so far from home. Luckily, I was getting closer and closer to accomplishing just that with each passing day.
As loathe as I was to admit it aloud, Octo-Cat had made a huge difference in my life and had been a huge part of my recent self-discovery. I had a feeling I’d done the same for him as well. That was the thing about the people you loved— sometimes they made you crazy, but they would always be there for you in a pinch.
And this thing with Peter was the pinchiest situation we’d encountered yet. With the murders we’d investigated together, we at least knew what we were dealing with, what we were looking for. But with Peter? We now had questions on top of questions. As afraid as I was to discover where the answers may lead us, at least the three of us were firmly in this together.
Nan waited until Peter and I were seated at the table, then disappeared into the kitchen to plate up her sweet creations.
“Nice house,” Peter remarked, twiddling his thumbs in front of him. “How’d someone like you manage something like this?”
“It’s my house,” Octo-Cat announced, jumping up onto the table and plopping his rear right in front of Peter. “And I don’t think I want you in it.”
“Don’t mind him,” I said, pretending that everything was as normal as could be. “He’s just a bit suspicious of new visitors.”
“Nice kitty,” Peter said, reaching a hand toward the tabby.<
br />
“If you touch me, I bite you,” Octo-Cat informed him with a low growl.
Peter instantly recoiled. Was it because of the growl or the words that preceded it? Hmm.
“Good human,” Octo-Cat said in that condescending way I’d grown to love. “If you poke the tiger, you’re going to lose some fingers. That’s how the saying goes. Isn’t it?” He tilted his head to the side and flicked his tail, keeping his unblinking eyes on Peter the whole time.
Peter laughed nervously. “So, Angie, how long have you been working at—?”
“Don’t talk to her.” Octo-Cat hopped back onto his feet and stared Peter down with his ears folded back against his head. “Talk to me. Who are you, and why are you such a jerk? Huh, big guy? You think it’s nice to pick on my human?”
Peter leaned back as far as he could in his chair and looked toward me with large, pleading eyes. “Um, could we maybe put your cat somewhere while I’m here? I think I might be allergic.”
“More like afraid,” Octo-Cat said, then punctuated it with his signature evil laugh. I’d never seen Peter so shaken. Granted, I hadn’t known him very long, but still, it really did seem as if he could understand what my cat was saying to him.
“Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s harmless,” I said with a dismissive shrug.
Octo-Cat growled again. “Oh, she has no idea just how harmful I can be,” he told Peter with a low rumble.
“Who’s ready for some heavenly confections?” Nan sang as she floated back into the dining room with an artfully arranged silver serving platter, completely unaware of what Octo-Cat had been up to during her brief absence.
I widened my eyes as I moved them between Nan and the cat, trying to let her know that this was his show, but she didn’t seem to get the hint.
“Bon appetit!” she cried, setting the tray between Peter and me.
