by Molly Fitz
Chapter Two
Octo-Cat found me on the porch a while later. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the pair of seagulls delivered the news of their delay in finding my family. It must have been a while, though, because the light had faded and a chill that hadn’t been there before now hung in the air.
“What are you doing out here?” Octo-Cat asked after pushing through the automatic pet door and coming to sit at my side.
I would have thought he was showing a rare moment of affection, except the next words out of his mouth were, “And where is my lobster roll?”
I sighed and pushed the almost transparent paper bag over to him.
“It’s almost all the way cold,” he whined as he crinkled his way into the sack, but he accepted the food nonetheless.
I sat and watched the branches of the white ash trees that lined our property as they blew in the wind.
“Do you—uh—want some?” my cat offered hesitantly, his face a distorted mask of concern through the oily paper. His eyes remained glued to the food, daring me to accept the offer.
I shook my head. “All yours.”
“You seem…” The bag broke open, spilling the cat and his lobster roll onto the porch with me. He grabbed the food with his paws and tried to regain his normal, dignified air. With a twinkle in his eyes, he turned his head to one side then the other as he examined me. “Less irritating than usual,” he decided at last. “What’s wrong?”
“Bravo is having a hard time finding my grandmother.” I shrugged, trying to play off my devastation.
“So what’s the big deal? You’ve lived without her this long. Besides, I haven’t seen my mother or any of my brothers or sisters since I was a kitten. And you’re well past your youth now, Angela.”
I chuckled at his logic. “Cats and people aren’t the same. I think you know that better than anyone.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Octo-Cat said, bits of lobster hanging from his chin and whiskers. “And I spend way too much time with humans and other lesser creatures these days…”
He paused to let this sink in. I assumed the other lesser creatures referred to Paisley and Pringle but knew better than to ask for specifics.
“It might be nice to know what happened to my litter mates,” he continued, running a paw over his face. “Ever since we found those kittens, I got to thinking. What if all my brothers and sisters turned out almost as awesome as me?”
“That’s hard to believe,” I said with another laugh. Leave it to Octo-Cat to make my personal tragedy all about him.
“You’re right. It would be almost too amazing, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
I turned to look at him, cupping my cheek in one palm and resting my elbow on my thigh. “What do you mean?”
He finished chewing his bite and swallowed hard. “We’re searching for your family. I want to search for mine, too.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I think it’s fair to ask, since it is my trust fund that pays all our bills.”
“Remember how curiosity killed the cat?” I asked with one eyebrow raised, a slight smile playing at my lips.
Octo-Cat scoffed at this. “That’s just a vicious generalization, and you know it. But fine, I am curious. What’s so wrong about that?”
He had me there. It was only natural that with all the focus on my family Octo-Cat would also wonder about his.
“Okay,” I said, nodding for emphasis. “I’ll help you.”
“Don’t make me pull out my—” He stopped suddenly. “Wait, you’ll help? That easily?”
“That easily,” I confirmed, my smile widening now.
“Well, okay, then. Thank you.” He returned to his lobster roll, making such fast progress of it that I was worried he may choke.
Just then, a raccoon skittered up the porch steps and grabbed the remaining sandwich with greedy black fingers.
Octo-Cat growled and took a swipe, but Pringle had already managed to climb up onto the railing and out of reach of the irate tabby.
“For me?” the raccoon crooned. “Why, Angie, you shouldn’t have.”
“She didn’t!” Octo-cat yelled and flicked his tail wildly behind him.
Pringle stuffed the entire thing in his mouth, cheeks bulging, then swallowed it down and slowly licked each of his fingertips.
“I hate you,” Octo-Cat muttered before running back in through the pet door.
I let out a long sigh. “Why do you have to get him riled up like that?”
“That cat has never liked me. So, frankly, I don’t trust his taste. Although that lobster roll was delicious. Would have been even more delicious without the cat spit on it, though.” Pringle chuckled to himself, then clambered down from the railing and came to sit at my side. “So when do we start our next case?”
I sighed again—something I did often in my raccoon neighbor’s presence. “When someone hires us.”
“Hey, not being hired hasn’t stopped you before. You’ve gotten involved in plenty of cases just because you happened to stumble upon them. Let’s go for a nice walk through downtown, see what trouble we can stir up there.”
I stared at him for a moment, but when I realized Pringle had no idea why this suggestion would be problematic, I attempted to explain. “If I show up with a raccoon in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded street, there will definitely be trouble. And not the kind either of us would enjoy. Besides, maybe I don’t want another case right now. Honestly, I could really use a break.”
“Level with me here. I’m going stir crazy. I’ve almost finished my second watch-through of all forty-ish seasons of Survivor. What am I supposed to do when I’m through with that, huh?”
“Start a third watch-through,” I suggested with a shrug.
His jaw fell open as if I’d just made the most shocking and offensive recommendation of all time. It looked like he wanted to say something more, but before he could a car pulled onto our long driveway and began its approach to the house.
Pringle scurried off to hide, because as much as he liked bugging me and Nan, he was still wary of other humans. If he would have waited just a couple seconds longer, though, he would have seen that the new arrival was someone he’d come to trust, thanks to our recent adventures forcing them to work together while the rest of us were out of town.
“Hi, Charles,” I said when my boyfriend parked and got out of his car. He wore his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and still wore his suit pants, although he’d ditched the jacket and tie.
“Ready to go?” he asked, waiting at the car door and eyeing me suspiciously.
I stood and brushed away the crumbs that had fallen to my lap while Octo-Cat and Pringle battled over the lobster roll.
“Angiiiie,” Charles ground out. “Don’t tell me you forgot!”
Somehow “forgot what?” didn’t feel like the right response here, so I just smiled and batted my eyelashes.
“About the movie,” he prompted. “It was your idea for us to see it tonight.”
“Oh! Oh, right! I am so sorry, Charles. Things have just been…” I popped to my feet as I searched for the right word. Busy wasn’t accurate, but I was still very overwhelmed, regardless. “They’ve been a lot lately. If you give me five minutes, I can run a brush through my hair and then we can go.”
He shook his head and trotted up the steps, taking me in his arms before I could slip away. “Let’s stay in tonight,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead and reminding me all over again why I was crazy about this particular man.
I looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. “You don’t mind?”
“Nah.” He pulled me to his chest and held me tight. “As long as I get to spend time with you, it doesn’t really matter what we do. How about you choose tonight, and I’ll choose what we do next time around.”
We shared a slow kiss. I practically melted into him as he held me.
That is, until Octo-Cat ru
shed back through the pet flap and shouted, “Gaaah! You know I hate it when you two groom each other in my presence.”
I laughed and kissed Charles again. Octo-Cat would just have to deal with it.
Chapter Three
Charles and I ended up watching a made-for-TV movie on the Disney channel, which offered just the right amount of wholesomeness mixed with campiness to lighten my mood—and to send me drifting to sleep early.
The next morning, I woke up and took a quick shower, hoping it would help make me more alert for the day ahead. It didn’t.
So I pulled on my favorite ratty polka-dot bathrobe and padded down to the kitchen, where I found Nan at the sink, rinsing some mixed berries in a colander.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” she sang out. “I’ll have you know, ten o’clock has already come and gone.”
“Sorry,” I said around a yawn. “I don’t know why, but I’ve just been so exhausted lately.”
Nan finished with the berries and patted her hands dry. “There’s some vanilla yogurt in the fridge and granola in the cabinet, if you’d like to help yourself to a parfait.”
“Right now I just need coffee,” I mumbled, removing my French press from the dishwasher and setting to work. This was the latest in my attempts at satisfying my caffeine cravings without having to rely on an electric coffee maker. It took a bit more work, but I’d started to prefer the taste of the fresher brew that this process yielded.
“Any big plans for today?” I asked while I waited for the water to heat up.
Nan popped a particularly plump raspberry into her mouth and sighed with pleasure. “Grant and I are going to take the ferry out to Caraway Island and do some window shopping.”
I’d never quite understood the older generation’s obsession with window shopping. Was it really shopping if you went knowing you wouldn’t be buying anything? I was pretty frugal with my money, but even I couldn’t see the appeal of that activity.
“Sounds like a nice, relaxing day,” I said with my lips pressed into a tight smile.
“Oh, my dear grandchild, it’s boring, and you know it.” Nan winked at me, and we both giggled.
“Then why are you doing it?”
“That’s how love works sometimes, sweetie. I agree to one of Grant’s activities knowing that next time I’ll get to make the plans for the day.”
Nan and Mr. Gable, the owner of the local jewelry shop and head of the downtown commerce committee, had been dating since the holidays, and they made the sweetest couple, too.
Nan’s chihuahua Paisley had recently become good friends with Grant’s rabbit, E.B.—short for Easter Bunny. At first the little thing was terrified of our pets, but even she could see that sweet Paisley would never harm a soul. Octo-Cat, on the other hand, give him opposable thumbs and he would have gladly used them to assist in making rabbit stew.
“Charles said something like that last night, too,” I mumbled, searching through the cupboards to select a coffee mug. Call me superstitious, but I tended to believe that the choice of coffee cup could impact one’s entire day. I bypassed the #1 Private Investigator mug Charles had gifted me for Valentine’s Day in favor of a fun color-changing mug inspired by one of my favorite book series. Every time I used it, I made another solemn promise that I would be up to no good. And that always made me smile.
I took a slow glorious sip of mid-morning bliss just as a knock sounded on the front door. I turned to Nan, but she simply shrugged and returned to fiddling with the berries.
So I went to answer the door, bleary-eyed, in a ratty bathrobe, and with zero percent blood-coffee ratio.
And there on the other side of the door stood Charles, wearing cargo khaki shorts and a fitted T-shirt with sports sunglasses pushed up into his hair. Honestly, I hardly recognized him outside of his usual monkey suit.
He glanced over my shoulder with his brows pinched together. “Didn’t you tell her?”
“No,” Nan answered. I hadn’t even heard her creep up behind me. “You said you wanted it to be a surprise. I’ll go grab her bag for you.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, turning to look from Charles to my grandmother, hoping that one might provide me with an explanation.
Nan walked away, raising a hand over her shoulder as she went.
I turned back toward my boyfriend, who stared at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “We’re going on a surprise getaway,” he announced, grabbing my hands and giving them a good squeeze.
“But I just got back from getting away,” I said with a frown. I hated to be a downer; however, my last vacation was anything but relaxing. Between driving cross-country, winding up in a car accident, and finding out Nan had been blabbing my secrets to anyone who would listen, I was just plain exhausted.
“This time it will be just you and me going out for a long and quiet weekend,” he explained, before leaning into whisper, “No pets.”
This drew a happy sigh from me. I loved my animals dearly, but I could never fully relax in their presence knowing I had to work hard at not exposing my secret in front of the wrong person. Even though they knew very well that I couldn’t talk to them in front of people who didn’t already know about my ability, that didn’t stop them from chattering on and filling my head with constant noise. The worst part was when I had to try to follow two separate lines of conversation. It made my brain tired.
A weekend away could be just the trick
Nan returned rolling a wheeled suitcase behind her. “All packed and ready to go. I just need another five minutes to finish packing the picnic.” She left the luggage with us and hurried back to the kitchen.
“Where are we going?” I asked, starting to get a little excited.
Charles pressed his lips into a firm line and shook his head. “It’s a surprise.”
“But there will be a picnic?” I prompted, tilting my head as I studied his face for hints. “Does that mean we’re going somewhere outside?”
He drew his thumb and forefinger across his mouth. “Not telling. You’ll see when we get there.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What about work?”
“The firm can keep things together for one day without me. I don’t think I’ve ever used a full vacation day. It was time. And besides, I may have snuck into the office early to get a few things taken care of before coming here.”
“Ah-ha. I knew it!”
Charles laughed. “Yeah, we both need this break.”
Nan returned with a cute woven basket in hand and gave it to Charles.
“Thanks,” he said with a big grin. “And you’re sure you’re okay to look after Jacques and Jillianne while we’re away?”
Last year, Charles had taken in my former neighbor’s two Sphynx cats after her untimely demise. They had never much warmed up to me, and I doubted they liked Nan, either. Still, Charles had grown quite fond of his two hairless babies.
Nan nodded vigorously and pushed us toward the door. “I’ve got it all under control. Paisley and I will go pay them a visit later this afternoon. Now get out of here. Go have some fun. Goodness knows you two both need it!”
Well, she was right about that, I supposed.
I just hoped whatever Charles had planned for us would be every bit as relaxing as he’d promised.
And that Octo-Cat wouldn’t be too mad at me for abandoning him this weekend.
Chapter Four
Outside, a massive white vehicle sat waiting partway down our driveway.
“Surprise!” Charles shouted as he strode ahead of me with both the suitcase and picnic basket in tow.
I gasped and stopped in my tracks, blinking twice to make sure my eyes weren’t misleading me. “You bought an RV?”
He turned back to smile at me before continuing on his way. “I didn’t buy it. There’s this new app that’s kind of like Airbnb meets Uber. So I rented this baby from someone over in Cooper’s Cove. It’s ours through Monday. Your Nan’s already agreed to return it for me, too.”
I
jogged to catch up. “There’s no way you’re letting Nan drive this. That woman is a terror on wheels, and you know it.”
Charles just laughed and opened the passenger door for me. “Climb on up. We’ve got about three hours to get to our destination, so not too bad.”
“Climb on up?” I repeated. “I’m in my ratty bathrobe. I’m not going anywhere until I get changed.”
“No, that’s why I had Nan pack you a bag. You can get changed on the way.”
“That’s ridiculous. We’re right here. I’m going to go inside and change and then we can get going.”
Before he could drag me into the RV, I turned and climbed the porch and pulled on the door. Locked.
“Really, Nan?” I shouted at the locked door. “You’re sending me off in just a bathrobe?”
“Don’t worry, I packed you something nice,” she shouted back through the door.
It was obvious that these plans were in motion and there was nothing I could do to stop this runaway camper. With a sigh, I wrapped my robe tighter around myself and walked back over to the RV.
I hoisted myself inside while Charles went around back to the living area where he stashed my suitcase and the picnic basket. Rather than buckling up, I spun in my seat to check out our hotel on wheels. It had a small kitchen area complete with linoleum floor and a sink, cute little stovetop, and a half-sized fridge. Across from that sat a comfy-looking booth and table flanked by a built-in couch. Further back, I could just glimpse a bedroom with dark drapes and what appeared to be a queen-sized bed—whatever the size, it definitely took up a good deal of space.
Charles swung himself up onto the driver’s seat. “There’s a bathroom back there if you need it, and I’ve stocked up on food for the weekend, too.”
“Seems like you’ve thought of everything,” I said as I settled into my seat and drew the safety belt across my lap.
“Nan and I planned the whole thing together last night while you dozed on the couch,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.
