by Molly Fitz
“And then what happened?”
She shook hard, and I knew that we’d reached the hardest part of the story. This was the part of the memory she’d tried so hard to forget.
“When your mother was eleven, Marilyn found us. She came to one of my shows and confronted me after. Said William’s sister had told her what he’d done and that she wanted her baby back.” Tears splashed into her tea, but she wasn’t drinking it, anyway.
I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn’t move. What had almost happened? How different would my mom’s life be if…? And would I have even been born?
“Oh my gosh, all those years later? What did you do?” I couldn’t stand another moment not knowing.
“I agreed to meet her the next day, to bring Laura.” Her voice cracked here. “And then your grandfather and I packed up and left town.”
“To Blueberry Bay,” I whispered.
“To Blueberry Bay,” she confirmed.
“What happened to Marilyn?”
Nan shook her head vigorously. Her tea sloshed over the edges of her cup, but she didn’t react. “I don’t know. We walked away from everything so that we could keep our family together. Your mother hadn’t been born to us, but she was ours. And I didn’t know why William sent his only daughter away, but I knew him and knew he must have had his reasons.”
“Wow.” I breathed heavily, still in shock. “Does Mom know about all this?”
“Of course not.” Nan’s voice faltered in a rare show of fragility. “How can I tell her that I stole her?”
And just like that my legs worked again. I pulled my nan to her feet and hugged her tight. “You didn’t know. Your best friend gave her to you, and you trusted him.”
“Back then, yes,” she whispered into my hair. “But I made a choice when Marilyn found us in New York. A selfish one that’s kept Laura from knowing her real mother and you from knowing your real nan.”
“You’re my real nan,” I said, wrapping my arms around her even tighter. “I told you nothing can change that. Not even this.”
“I appreciate that, dear.” She pulled back and studied me with a small smile and bright eyes. “Sometimes I think I let myself fall even in more in love with you than I allowed myself to love your mother, because I knew no one would show up and try to take you away.”
This explained so much, why she had been the main one to raise me even though my parents were here and capable. Whatever the reasons for it, I’d loved my childhood and I loved my life. I loved the woman who had risked so much to give it to me.
I kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve loved every single day with you, Nan. Well, every day except for the one you took Paisley to a motel and hid from me.”
We smiled at each other, then laughed together for what felt like the first time in ages.
“You don’t hate me?” she asked with a squeak.
“I could never hate you.” I paused before saying the next part in case it hurt her. “But I do want to meet her.”
Nan nodded. “I figured you might.”
“Where do we start?” I needed to know more, but I also needed us to do this side by side.
“Together.” She reached out her hand and grasped mine. “I’ve spent so many years running from the truth. Now let’s walk toward it together.”
Chapter Twenty
A lot happened rather quickly after that.
Nan showed me all the old photos and mementos she’d kept hidden for fear of exposing her secret history growing up in Georgia and falling in unrequited love with her best friend. I still didn’t know why William had decided to entrust his baby to Nan when her mother was still very much alive. I think the only person who might know the answer to that was Ms. Marilyn Jones herself, but we had no idea where to start looking for her—or even if she was still alive all these years later.
Pringle took full credit for solving the case and decided his fee should be doubled for just how fast “he” had managed to solve the mystery. He also demanded that his payment be delivered within three days or it would need to be doubled again.
That payment? A new home, since we had irreparably damaged his under-porch apartment with our shovels. And because he had decided to ask for double, he also demanded that we erect a new office headquarters for Pringle Whisperer, P.I.
Luckily, we knew the very best handyman in all of Blueberry Bay, a certain Mr. Brock “Cal” Calhoun. Not only did he do fast, quality work, but he also didn’t ask too many questions—like why a single woman and her grandmother needed not one, but two, tree forts erected in their backyard or why one of those forts also needed to be outfitted with electricity and a satellite TV dish.
Once Cal had finished building the twin tree forts and Pringle was all moved in, I introduced him to reality TV, the ultimate source of juicy secrets and real human drama—at least that’s what I told him.
Sure enough, he immediately got sucked in to one of the longest running reality competitions of them all, which meant there were plenty of back episodes for him to watch. He enjoyed laughing at the humans and their weak skills when it came to surviving in the wild.
“Survivor!” he quipped somewhere into his umpteenth hour of viewing. “Ha! Put a raccoon in there with them, then you’ll see what a real survivor looks like!”
Pringle had already begun to spend all his time in front of his new TV, which thankfully meant he stayed out of trouble. Well, at least for now.
Brilliantly, Octo-Cat had a fairly easy time convincing the raccoon to join our investigation firm rather than continuing to compete with us.
“Think about it, Pringle,” my cat crooned. “You like secrets. Now your whole job is keeping track of our secrets. In fact, that’s your new job title—Pringle, MSK. Master Secret Keeper.”
“Oooh, that’s even better than P.I.,” he crowed. “It’s got more letters. Better letters!”
Really, all that happened was that we moved our filing cabinets into his rarely used work fort, but at least I knew they were safe there, given the ferocity he used to protect all his favorite treasures.
When Cal had finished building the tree forts, he also fixed the hole in our roof so that no other animals would be able to crawl into our attic. He helped us clear out the space under our porch, too, and then laid down a solid stone base—also to keep the wildlife out. I didn’t mind getting up close and personal with my animal neighbors, but we needed to have at least some boundaries.
Julie, for her part, was incredibly relieved to find that all the missing mail had been accounted for. Her bosses at the post office let her off the hook but made sure to promptly deliver flyers throughout town, warning of highly intelligent and very disturbed forest animals.
Honestly, it made me laugh.
Pringle, too.
When I brought one home to show him, he grabbed it from my hands in delight and then raced around the neighborhood collecting as many as he could for his treasure trove. I had no doubt that he’d eventually turn them all into sloppily constructed origami cranes, provided he stopped watching TV long enough to get to work.
While all this was great, the most important follow-up item still remained. Nan and I needed to reunite the family.
That’s why my mom was here with us now.
Nan had baked all her favorites and encouraged her to dig in while she shared pictures and explained our shared, but until now hidden, past. Pringle had even generously returned the birth certificate and William’s letter to us, so we could show them to her as a way of starting the conversation.
“There’s still a lot we don’t know,” I explained to my mom, who sat stoically, taking it all in. I guess since she was an investigative reporter, she was used to larger-than-life stories like this one. It still couldn’t have made any of this easier.
“I can’t believe it. I have another mother out there,” Mom said with a genuine smile. “What was she like?”
“I didn’t really know her,” Nan explained. “But she was beautiful, just like you.”
She bumped my arm. “And you, dear.”
“Can we find her? Can I meet her?” Mom asked with a determined glint in her eyes. She never backed away from a challenge, and that proved true now, too.
“I’m not giving up until we do,” I promised, taking my mom’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “But we have even more family out there, family we haven’t gotten the chance to know yet.”
Nan sucked in a shaky breath, and I offered her a reassuring smile before turning back to my mom and revealing, “I have their phone number. Should we call?”
We caught Mom up on the McAllisters of Larkhaven, Georgia, and the help I’d received from the church receptionist.
“Can we really call them?” Mom asked. “Just like that?”
“Hey, you never know,” I said with a goofy smile. “Maybe they’ve been looking for us, too.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Nan said, hugging us both from behind.
“Are you really okay with this?” Mom asked. “It must be so scary for you to go back to that time, that place.”
“I’m not going back,” Nan said with a wistful smile. “Only forward with my two girls.”
Mom nodded, and I punched in the number I’d long since memorized even though this was the first time I was actually placing a call.
It rang three times, and then…
“Hello?” a woman who sounded about Mom’s age answered.
“Is this Linda McAllister?” I asked through happy tears. I already knew what the answer to my question would be. “Because I think we might be related.”
Even though she hadn’t expected our call, we spent over two hours chatting about our lives, growing closer and closer, until there was no doubt in any of our minds that we were, in fact, family.
“So, when are you coming down to Larkhaven to see me?” Linda asked.
“Soon,” I answered with an enormous smile. “Real soon.”
What’s Next?
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, she won’t stop talking about them now that they’re out in the open. I still have so many questions, though. Like is she still the same woman I always assumed she was? And can I ever fully trust her again?
When Nan refuses 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.
Pre-order to save! HIMALAYAN HAZARD is just $2.99 until it releases on November 14.
Get your copy here!
mollymysteries.com/HimalayanH
Sneak Peek: Raccoon Racketeer
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 whole 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 quic
k 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 to the side 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 Kings Cross for the first time,” I said with a snort and a chuckle.
“When were you at Kings 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.”