by Molly Fitz
“Can you watch Paisley for me this afternoon?” Nan asked once the three of us had finished our mid-day meal. “I’d bring her with me, but I have a lot of errands to run and don’t want her to get lost underfoot.”
“Sure,” I answered absentmindedly while logging into the bank’s mobile app on my phone. I had to click around a bit to find exactly what I was looking for. When I did, I handed the phone to Nan and asked, “Hey, is this address the same as the one on the check you had cashed?”
Nan studied the tiny screen for a moment, then handed the phone back my way and rummaged around her desk until she found the printout she’d made the night before. “The very same,” she said, holding the paper beside the phone screen so the two of us could compare.
I glanced between them a few more times, feeling more and more confident that we’d made a match with each new look. “The signature’s a little different on this one, but it looks like it belongs to the same person. I think maybe it starts with a D or an O. Hard to say for sure.”
“But that’s not how you spell Trish,” Nan said with a sigh.
“No, it’s not,” I agreed, feeling more confused than ever as I logged out of the app and set my cell phone back on the table.
“I’ll think on it while I’m out,” my grandmother promised.
“Where are you going, by the way?” I’d only half paid attention when she said she was leaving and was curious now that she’d brought it up again.
“To begin work on the charity fundraiser for the shelter, of course. I’ve decided to go with a gala. That will bring all the key players out better than any bake sale or car wash ever could.”
“Good thinking.” Or was it? I hated contradicting her, but had she really thought this whole thing through before deciding to jump into action?
“Nan, a gala takes a lot of prep work, though. What if it’s too late for the shelter by the time you’ve finished the planning?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Stop being such a negative Nancy. You know better than to doubt your nan. Now, you two be good. I’ll be back in time to rustle up some dinner. Ciao.”
And just like that, she was into her shoes and out the door. Man, she moved fast. I often felt like a slouch next to my fit and active grandmother. Maybe one day I’d actually do something about it—but today was not that day.
“What would you like to do this afternoon?” I asked, searching the floor for Paisley. Normally, she clung to the closest human like a bur, but at the moment, I couldn’t spot her anywhere.
“Paisley!” I called. “C’mere, girl.”
“I don’t wanna,” came the muffled reply.
It took a few minutes, but I finally found her hiding under our antique Victorian loveseat. “Why so sad, sweetie pie?” I sat down on the hard, uncomfortable floor and waited for her to show herself.
“The cat doesn’t like me,” she sniffed while remaining firmly in place beneath the old couch.
“Oh, don’t worry about him. He doesn’t really like anyone.”
“He doesn’t like me a lot, though. And at the shelter, I couldn’t help you win Detective. And now Nan left and didn’t want to take me with her. What if she never comes back?”
The poor dear! I hated that she felt this way and that there was very little I could do about it.
“Paze, please don’t cry. You did a great job helping with Detective, and—hey—the game’s not over yet. We still have time to win. And I promise Nan will come back just as soon as she finishes her errands. We all love you very much.”
“Even Octopus Cat?” she asked, raising her head slightly.
“Even Octo-Cat,” I assured her with a chuckle. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Chapter Fourteen
Seeing as both Paisley and I could use a change of scenery, I leashed her up and drove us downtown to enjoy a bit of window-shopping.
“Have you been here before?” I asked my doggie companion as the two of us strolled down the narrow sidewalks that flanked the commercial heart of our small seaside town.
“Nope,” Paisley answered, then stopped to squat beside a young tree that had just begun to change colors for the fall. “But I like it very much. So many excellent smells!”
Although I was sure our definition of excellent varied substantially, I smiled and nodded my agreement. Paisley was happy again, and that’s what mattered most.
“Which smell is your favorite?” I asked conversationally.
“Oh, definitely all the pee!” she squealed, happier than a pig in number two as she enjoyed the apparently intoxicating aroma of number one.
I didn’t ask any more questions after that. Instead, the two of us continued on our way, stopping frequently to allow the Chihuahua to sniff anything that caught her fancy.
“Oh, hello there, Angie!” Mr. Gable, the owner of the nearby jewelry store, called from the spot where he was idling with a steaming mug of coffee. The old man had become something of an institution here in Glendale, and it was no wonder he’d recently been voted head of the downtown council.
“Hello, Mr. Gable,” I called, quickening my pace to join him.
“And who might this little fella be?” The smiling, white-haired man carefully lowered himself to the ground and let Paisley sniff his hands. His coffee, too.
“This is Paisley,” I announced proudly. “Nan’s and my newest addition.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “Oh, I bet the cat doesn’t much care for that.”
“You bet right,” I answered with a laugh. Hopefully, Mr. Gable’s well-meaning comment wouldn’t turn the dog into a nervous, shaking mess all over again.
In the end, she appeared too taken by the kindness of this new friend to worry about the unkindness of the hostile feline back home.
Mr. Gable and I chatted amiably for a few minutes about the upcoming holiday spectacular. We were a good three months off, but it was widely known that the downtown businesses started planning on December 26 of the previous year. The yearly festival got bigger and grander with each run, and I couldn’t wait to see how it would look this Christmas.
Mr. Gable, however, refused to give anything away. “It’s better as a surprise,” he promised with a Santa-like wink.
Just as I was about to press a little harder for details, an unexpected movement down the street caught my eye. Mind you, we were in downtown Glendale, which meant lots of people, dogs, and vehicles came and went—even in the middle of the day.
Somehow, though, I knew the sudden pale blur wasn’t a part of all that. I guess you could say my kitty sense was tingling.
Paisley felt it, too, because she nudged my foot with her nose and said, “It’s that nice lady we smelled the other day. Remember at the shelter?”
And she was right. Suspicious Trish had made yet another appearance in my life, and I wanted to know why.
“Well, nice chatting,” I told Mr. Gable with a brief wave goodbye. “We’ll see you soon.”
I picked up Paisley, even though I knew she’d probably rather walk, and hurried back in the direction from which we’d come. I needed her close so that I could whisper to her about what would happen next.
“We have to be very, very quiet,” I told the little dog, channeling my inner Elmer Fudd. We weren’t hunting wabbits, though, we were stalking suspects—and that was way more dangerous.
“If we can stay quiet and hidden long enough, I think we might just win Detective,” I promised with a quick grin.
Paisley gasped but said nothing in response. Good dog.
Trish cut through an alley, and I raced faster to catch up, making sure I remained far enough behind to avoid letting her spot me. She stopped in a parking lot and stood, waiting.
Paisley and I hid ourselves behind a nearby dumpster. Neither of us spoke a word.
Then I spotted it, a giant, beat-up Cadillac crunching onto the gravel lot. The driver was most definitely male, but I couldn’t make out much more than his wispy frame and deep voice. He and Trish s
poke for a few minutes and then he hopped out of the car and popped the trunk open.
Inside, the spacious trunk was filled to the brim with pet supplies, still in their packaging. If the mysterious man was here to make a donation to the shelter, he was sure acting shifty about it.
I didn’t have long to puzzle over this, because the very next thing I knew, Trish had pulled a wad of bills from her front pocket and handed it to the driver.
And that was more than enough to make me finally spring to action. First, I grabbed my phone and zoomed in on the license plate, so I’d have it for later. Then I placed a call to my good friend Officer Bouchard and told him he needed to come down straight away.
“Did we win Detective?” Paisley asked, staring up at me with glistening dark eyes.
“Yeah, I think we did,” I told her, offering an enthusiastic petting for the job well done. “But we need to be quiet just a little longer before we can know for sure.”
We watched as Trish and the man had some kind of argument, and then he drove off with both the cash and the pet supplies. Trish groaned and stalked back toward the alleyway, where Paisley and I still stood crouched behind the dumpster.
Uh-oh.
I needed to think fast, so I set my dog on the ground and cried, “Oh my gosh, Paisley! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Yes, I’m right here, Mommy!” the little dog barked, not quite catching on to the ruse.
Trish walked by us without so much as a nod of recognition, so I called after her. “Hey, Trish. Is that you? Three times in less than twenty-four hours! What are the chances?”
She grimaced but stopped moving at least. “I’m sorry, I can’t really hang around and talk. Nice to see you, though.” Without waiting for my response, she quickened her pace again and continued down the alley.
Oh, no you don’t. You’re not getting away that easily.
She must have had an awful lot on her mind, because Paisley and I easily trailed her without her discovering us. She moved fast, and I wished for the second time that day that I was in better shape. Somehow I managed to keep up, though, as Trish led us to a second parking lot on the other side of downtown Glendale where the same man from before sat waiting in his idling car.
“Bingo,” I whispered, then sent a quick text to Officer Bouchard to let him know we’d relocated to the north parking lot.
Trish unlocked a dirty white sedan and popped its trunk, then together she and the man began to move the contents of his vehicle into hers. They’d managed to clear about half of the goods by the time Officer Bouchard’s police cruiser joined us on the scene.
My excitement mounted. My cop friend had made it on time, and now this was it. Somebody was going to be in big trouble.
Chapter Fifteen
The man pushed his trunk closed, but not fast enough to escape the notice of the officer who’d just arrived on the scene.
I took this as my cue to come out of hiding. This time there hadn’t been a dumpster, so I’d had to resort to pressing myself flat against the brick wall in the alley. I strode into the parking lot with confidence I didn’t quite feel—and wouldn’t until I knew for sure we’d caught the crook who was embezzling money from the animal shelter.
Officer Bouchard saw me first and reached his hand overhead in a wave.
Both Trish and her accomplice spun in my direction, and the moment she spotted me, her eyes filled with disdain. “You followed me!” she cried.
“Now, now,” Officer Bouchard said peaceably. “We don’t want any more trouble than is already here. Go ahead and open up the trunk, young man.”
I was close enough now to make out our mystery man’s features. He was tall and lanky with light skin and even lighter hair. As far as I knew, I’d never seen him before in my entire life.
“Hey, wait just a minute,” Trish argued, pointing a shaky finger my way. “She followed me. Isn’t stalking, like, illegal?”
“Not like illegal. It is illegal, but something tells me there’s something even more illegal in that there trunk, and that Ms. Russo was just doing her civic duty by calling it in and keeping an eye on you until I could show up to officially handle things. Now open that trunk.”
Trish’s accomplice did as he was told, once again revealing the trunk filled with brand-new pet supplies.
“And that one, too, please.” The cop pointed to Trish’s filthy white car and waited until she complied with his order.
“Well, well, well,” Officer Bouchard said with a chuckle. “These wouldn’t happen to be the pet supplies a shop in Dewdrop Springs reported missing earlier today.” He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the younger blond man. “Or would they?”
“Whatever, man. I’m just the go-between. She’s the mastermind.”
If he was sorry, he didn’t look it. I had to wonder if perhaps this man was from out of town, if he’d thought no one would notice some missing pet supplies. Apparently he hadn’t counted on the fact that everyone notices everything in a small town like ours.
Trish stamped her foot on the ground. “How dare you try to pin this all on me!”
“Enough bickering,” the officer warned. “Who’s stealing and why?”
“I didn’t steal anything,” Trish ground out. “I bought these supplies fair and square.”
The policeman crossed his arms and stared down the bridge of his nose at both culprits. “Well, I’m not buying it, little miss. Why buy pet supplies from the back of some guy’s trunk when it’s just as easy to go to the store and purchase them there? You know, like you’re supposed to?”
“He was giving them to us at a discount. We needed the savings. The shelter isn’t doing so good, and… And I was just trying to help the animals!”
“Let’s go,” Officer Bouchard said, uncrossing his arms and making a sweeping gesture toward his waiting car. “I’d love to hear more about this down at the station. And you’re both invited.”
Trish scowled at me as Officer Bouchard nudged her toward the police cruiser. He hadn’t cuffed either her or the man with the trunk full of stolen goods, but he had called for backup to come clear the scene while he dealt with the suspects.
“Thanks, Russo,” he said, returning to my side. “But I’ve gotta ask, what made you decide to follow her?”
I quickly caught him up on Nan’s and my suspicions, ending with a dramatic, “And she doesn’t even actually work there. At least I think she doesn’t.”
“Oh, you and your nan. One of these days we should formally hire you to work for the county. I can promise you this, though. We’re going to find out what’s going on at that shelter. Stealing from animals in need is a level of despicable I don’t like seeing in our town. Both of my cats were adopted from that very shelter, come to think of it.”
“Officer Bouchard,” I said with a grin, bumping my shoulder into his. “I had no idea you were a cat person.”
He put his tough cop face back on and sniffed. “Yeah, well, don’t let word get around. I already get more than my fair share of guff from the other guys at the station.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised, loving this new detail about him. I was a cat person, too, after all. Well, most days at least.
“I’ve got things from here,” he informed me. “Now go try to enjoy the rest of your day.” The cop gave me a firm nod, which I took to mean I was formally dismissed from the investigation. Hopefully, the county would be able to finish strong from here, which meant Nan and I could focus on our little mystery at home. Namely, why so many fragile things kept breaking.
“Did we win?” Paisley asked as the two of us headed back down the alleyway.
“Yes, the bad guys have been caught, and all is right with the world again,” I assured her. I missed having Octo-Cat’s assistance, but Paisley hadn’t been such a bad crime-solving companion this time around. With time, she could learn. The three of us could work together… That is, if Octo-Cat ever got over his ridiculous aversion to dogs.
>
Then Paisley asked a question I hadn’t been expecting. “They seemed really nice to me. How do you know that they’re bad?”
“Because they did bad things,” I answered simply, honestly.
She appeared to think about this for a moment, then asked, “So if I do bad things, am I bad?”
“No, that’s not the same.”
“Why not?” Paisley’s ears lowered, giving her an even more puppy-ish appearance than usual.
Clearly, I had a choice to make. I could let the Chihuahua keep believing the best of everyone, or I could destroy her innocence by explaining how mean the world could be sometimes.
At the end of the day, I liked my new dog daughter exactly as she was, so I said, “You know what, Paze? You’re right. It was just a game. Now let’s go see if Nan’s back home yet, huh?”
“Oh, yes! We’ve been apart forever! I miss her so much!” Paisley cried, our deeper conversation about ethics and morals all but forgotten.
Maybe it was time for me to go back to Blueberry Bay Community College and grab an eighth associate degree. This time in Philosophy. Next time Paisley hit me over the head with questions like this, I wanted to be ready.
I sent Nan a quick text to let her know we were on our way home and to ask if she could meet us there, then I let my sweet little dog take all the time she needed enjoying her scenic scenting tour through downtown.
And she made sure to tell me each time she found a new one, too. Especially if it was pee.
Dogs were so weird.
Chapter Sixteen
Nan beat me and Paisley home, which was probably a good thing considering what we found when we got there.
“There’s poop everywhere!” I cried with a disgusted groan.
“You should have seen this place before I started cleaning up.” Nan squirted another shot of all-natural cleaner on the rug and gave the smelly stain a good, solid scrub.
“This is gross.” I crossed my arms and surveyed the damage with a frown. “Do you even think it will come all the way out of the area rug? This was original with the house.”
