by Molly Fitz
“Did you ask the neighbors?” he asked us.
Nan clucked her tongue. “Of course we asked the neighbors. That was the first thing we did yesterday afternoon.”
“Well, what about—?” Charles began, but was cut off by the unexpected buzz of our electronic cat door lifting open in the nearby foyer.
Could it really be? Had he come home all on his own?
“Octo-Cat!” I cried, pushing myself to my feet and stumbling as fast as I could toward the door. His cat door had been programmed to open whenever it sensed the little chip on his collar, which meant it could only be Octo-Cat trotting through the door now. I began to cry softly as tears of relief pricked at my eyes.
Maybe he had just stayed out too late, or perhaps he’d strayed too far and then had a hard time finding home again. Oh, he had some major explaining to do, that kitty boy of mine.
I thrust a hand on my hip as I took the last few steps toward the door, ready to go full-on angry pet parent on his furry behind.
I turned the corner, and sure enough, the first thing I saw was that familiar striped tail of his. It seemed puffier than usual, which meant that he was also upset and scared.
Next I spotted a pair of fat gray haunches, which definitely did not match my brown tabby’s fur. That’s when I realized it wasn’t Octo-Cat making his triumphant return. No. Instead, we had an imposter.
But how? How could it have possibly gotten inside without the special collar that interfaced with the pet door?
I was still puzzling over this when the creature turned around and stared at me from deep, masked eyes. A raccoon!
In one hand, he held Octo-Cat’s broken collar and in the other an empty can of Fancy Feast. Where had this intruder come from, and why did he have my cat’s things?
“You have some serious explaining to do!” I shouted, realizing too late that my anger may cause him to flee. Despite my anger and fear in that moment, this raccoon was our best lead. I had to play it nice, even though I wanted to keep screaming until I got the answers I craved.
The raccoon wasn’t afraid of me in the slightest. He held tight to both items and then stood on his hind legs, tilting his head to the side as he studied me. “Did you just talk?” he asked with a quizzical expression.
A brief moment of silence passed between us. I could feel Nan and Charles at my back, but neither said anything as the three of us stared the trespasser down.
Suddenly, our raccoon visitor burst out laughing a high-pitched, squeaky giggle that immediately grated on my nerves. “Aww, you can talk! That’s so cute!”
I hated to think what might have happened next had Nan and Charles not each grabbed one of my arms and held me back. It would have been a very low moment, indeed, if I’d gotten into a fight with a raccoon—especially since I was pretty sure that I would have lost.
Chapter Nine
I rounded on the beady-eyed intruder. Perhaps I should have been afraid of rabies or some other random infection, but in that moment I was just too angry to care about anything other than finding some answers. “Why do you have my cat’s collar?” I demanded, unwilling to back down.
The raccoon bared his teeth, then took far longer than I would have liked in deciding whether he wanted to talk to me or to bite me.
“Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton is his own animal,” he said at last, enunciating each word carefully. “He can’t be owned by you or anyone else.”
Whatever answer I’d expected, it had most definitely not been this. “You kn-n-now him?” I stuttered, dropping to my knees so that I could look the animal in the eye.
He laughed nervously, all his bluster having disappeared in an instant. “Know him? No! I wish I knew him! Even to be standing in his home right now is such a tremendous honor. I can’t even begin to—”
“You broke in,” I snapped at him in frustration. “There’s no honor in that.”
The raccoon hung his head and wept. I couldn’t tell whether his tears were fake, but this ring-tailed bandit definitely gave both Nan and Octo-Cat a run for their money in the drama department. No matter what I did or where I went, I was always surrounded by thespians.
“Enough blubbering,” I blurted out, more than ready to get on with it. “Tell me who you are and why you’re here. Are you some kind of weird Octo-Cat fanboy?”
“He prefers his full name, I’ll have you know,” the raccoon actually had the audacity to correct me. “And I’m not just some random fanboy.” He shook his head adamantly, then bared his teeth again in a creepy smile that sent me stumbling backward to put a bit of distance between us. “I’m his biggest fan. Numero uno, baby!”
There weren’t many moments in my life when I’d done an actual facepalm. This, however, was one of them. “I didn’t know house cats could have fans,” I admitted, still in utter disbelief.
The raccoon shot forward and positioned his face mere inches from mine as he cried, “He’s not just any house cat, lady! He is the ultimate in animal sophistication.”
Okay, it was probably time to move the discussion to finding out whether he had any leads as to where Octo-Cat had gone, but I desperately needed to know how my cat had landed himself such an enthusiastic follower. “Why do you like him so much? How did your, um, fandom get started?”
The raccoon stood higher on his haunches and swept his hand in front of his face theatrically. “It all started one dark and starry night. I was going about my business as usual, spying on some humans, raiding some trash cans, you know, the works. When lo and behold, I found something new and shiny. It caught my eye right away. Not just because it looked valuable, but because the smell… Wow, what an aroma!”
He scooped the empty Fancy Feast can he’d brought in with him up from the floor and held it out to me. “It was the most succulent delicacy I’d ever tasted in all my life, and then to find that each day there was more! Wow, I was the luckiest trash panda in all of Blueberry Bay.”
I had to fight hard not to explode with laughter. “Did you just call yourself a tra—you know what? Never mind. Go on.”
“Well, naturally, I needed to learn more about from whence this heavenly food had come. So I started to watch. Observe, if you will. And that’s when I first saw Octavius. Being the intelligent creature that I am, I realized the food was his and that I was feeding off mere scraps. Made me wonder what other wonderful things he knew about, so I watched some more. Soon I’m learning about Evian and Apple, sun spots, and a million other amazing things. Naturally when I found his collar here, I knew it was the ultimate king piece for my collection. And in I came to see what else I might find or if—for the love of the great raccoon in the sky—I might actually get the chance to meet the great Octavius.”
“What’s your name?” I asked skeptically. For the first time since Octo-Cat had gone missing, I was actually glad he wasn’t around to hear this. I’d always assumed his ego couldn’t get any larger… until now.
The raccoon set the empty can of cat food back onto the floor and attempted to place Octo-Cat’s collar around his neck. With another off-putting, sharp-toothed smile, he asked, “Would it be too much to ask you to call me Octavius? If I could pick any name that’s the one I’d choose. Definitely.”
“Yes, definitely way too much.” I needed to be firm with this one, else we’d never get anywhere. At least he seemed smart and like he’d remember our conversation after the fact. Perhaps he’d even want to help. “What’s your actual name?”
He pouted a lower lip and looked down at his feet. “Pringle.”
Okay, that was adorable. So why did he seem embarrassed by it?
“Nice to meet you, Pringle. I’m Angie.” I reached out and shook his paw, and the raccoon knew just how to return the friendly gesture. He was definitely smart and definitely familiar with human and cat customs alike.
“So, Pringle. How’d you get a name like that?” I’ll be the first to admit this little guy had me enamored—hopeful, too.
“Well, Angie,”
he began with zero hesitation. “It’s a long story, but basically when my mother was carrying me and my littermates, Pringles were her number one favorite trash snack. Me being the first born, Pringle became my name. Hey, actually it’s not that long of a story, after all. There you have it. The end.”
I allowed myself a small laugh before regaining my composure and sharing a bit of information I knew my new friend would not like. “Okay, Pringle. Thanks for the back story, but I’ve got bad news. Our dear Octavius has gone missing. It’s been close to twenty-four hours now, and we have no idea where to find him.”
The raccoon lifted both of his tiny black hands to his face and gasped. “Octavius, noooo!” he shouted. “You were far too young and perfect to meet such an untimely end.” Pringle then fell backward in a mock faint, and I wondered if he might also be watching a bit of television on the sly when he spied on us during the day.
“Hey. No, none of that!” I cried, nudging him until he sat back up. “Not dead! Why do you jump straight to dead?”
Pringle’s eyes widened and began to shine with gaiety. “Then he’s alive! Our dear Octavius is alive!”
When I nodded my confirmation, he jumped at least a foot in the air and pumped his fist enthusiastically. What an odd little creature.
“Stop jumping to conclusions and just listen, okay?” A smile snaked across my face when I realized exactly how I could get through to the hyperactive raccoon. “Octavius depends on it. Actually, he depends on you.”
“You had me at Octavius,” he said, taking a bow, although for the life of me, I didn’t know why. “And now you have my rapt attention.”
I nodded. “Good. Come meet the rest of the Octavius fan club, and we’ll catch you up.”
“I’m still the president, because I’m the number one fan,” he said, eyeing Charles and Nan with a newfound aggression as we approached.
“Of course you are,” I assured him. “You are definitely his biggest fan. I don’t think any of us are going to challenge you for that honor.”
Pringle smirked as if he’d just won some hugely desirable prize.
Charles waved hello to the newest member of our party. Nan held up her poster board, and I caught the raccoon up on everything we knew so far. Could his passion be the key to cracking this case wide open?
Oh, I sure hoped so.
Chapter Ten
Pringle paced from one side of the living room to the other. Half the time he walked on his hind legs, and the other half he hobbled along on all fours. The entire time, however, he talked and talked… and talked.
I barely had time to translate for Nan and Charles before he’d cut me off to continue with his monologue.
“Whoever took Octavius, we’re going to make him pay. We’re going to make him pay big.” The raccoon pounded his tiny black fist into his open palm for emphasis. “I won’t rest until he’s brought home safely. I won’t eat a single—Actually, okay, I’m going to have to eat. A raccoon’s gotta keep his strength up if he’s going to rescue his cat pal from clear and imminent danger.”
“Um, excuse me?” I said, raising my hand to draw Pringle’s attention my way. “Have you ever even met Octo-Cat?”
The raccoon sighed and heaved his furry shoulders. “Not yet, but I assume you’ll introduce me once he’s home again, yeah?” His eyes grew wide, and for a brief moment he stopped pacing and started shaking instead. I assumed it was with excitement.
Although I was tempted to reach out and pet him, I didn’t know how he’d take to such an intimate gesture. “I can promise he’d love nothing more than to meet the president of his own personal fan club,” I said with a huge grin. “Thank you for being so willing to help us with this.”
Pringle stretched on his tiptoes and spread his arms out wide as he boomed, “Of course. This is what I was put on this earth to do. Octavius is a legend, but he’s not yet ready to be a memory. He must live another day to inspire animals both near and far.” The raccoon pounded his fist on his chest and then kneeled and bowed his head reverently.
Not knowing what to do, I patted him between the ears and said, “Thank you for your service.”
He lifted his head but kept his fist held firmly to his chest. “It is an honor to serve him. What is my first assignment?”
Uh-oh. Had I just unwittingly knighted a trash panda?
I blinked hard at the creature who remained kneeling before me. This whole scene would have been hilarious if I weren’t so worried about Octo-Cat.
Pringle cleared his throat. “Lady Angela, my assignment?”
“Oh, oh, yes.” It took me a second to snap back to reality. So what if the creature before me was half-medieval knight and half-screaming fanboy? He had pledged his service to finding Octo-Cat. We now shared a passion and a cause. Hope sprung anew as I racked my mind for a list of tasks I could give Pringle to keep him busy.
“I need you to talk with the other animals around the forest. Find out if they saw or heard anything that could be useful. After night falls, come back here and keep an eye on things around the house. If you see anything suspicious, be sure to let us know.”
“On my honor.” Pringle gave me one last lingering look before racing back out through the cat door and, presumably, setting to work.
“Hopefully he’ll be more successful than we were,” Charles said, reminding me that I wasn’t alone. Sometimes when I got deep into a conversation with an animal, I forgot about the humans nearby.
“If nothing else, at least it will keep him busy,” I said with a shrug.
Nan flipped the poster board over and uncapped a purple marker. “Now, dear. I know this won’t be easy, but it’s time we discussed you a bit more. Or more specifically, who might have it out for you.”
A fresh wave of panic bubbled inside me. “Do you think someone kidnapped Octo-Cat to get back at me?”
“Well, it’s not like he had any enemies of his own, so I guess it’s a possibility.” Charles scooted up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I laid my head on his chest and tried not to feel as if I’d somehow signed my best fur friend’s death warrant. When it came right down to it, though, we had no proof he would ever come home again—or that he was even still alive.
“Now, dear. Who hates you most in this world?” Nan asked, completely oblivious to the emotional river that raged within me. She was never one to use a gentle word when a stronger one would do.
Hate, wow. There were people out there who actually hated me. That was, indeed, a tough pill to swallow.
“But also knows you well enough to know that taking your cat would be a huge punishment,” Charles added softly.
“Oh, excellent point,” Nan said with a giggle. She spied Charles’s hand on my shoulder and tossed a wink my way, enjoying this whole mess far too much for my liking.
“Hate’s a really strong word,” I hedged as I shook free of Charles’s arm. Immediately the cold took his place and sent a shiver rushing down my spine.
“It’s a strong feeling, too,” Nan agreed. “I know it’s hard to think about, but I’m almost certain the folks you put in prison aren’t too happy with you about that.”
I got up and walked across the room, then sank down onto the sofa with a groan. “Okay. First of all, I didn’t put them in prison. Their crimes did that. And second, they’re in prison. How could they have possibly taken Octo-Cat even if they’d wanted to?”
“She’s right,” Charles told Nan, and they let out matching sighs. It was eerie how well we all knew each other and had even started to pick up some of each other’s mannerisms. “We may be working against a two-man operation here.
“Or a two-woman gig. Girls can be bad, too, you know.” She seemed to take perverse pride in this observation. Now that was a really messed-up form of girl power.
“That Peter guy who worked with us briefly certainly didn’t like you much,” Charles added, referring to Bethany’s creepy cousin who had worked as a paralegal at our firm. We’d even been forced to share th
e same desk. I was definitely happy he’d moved down to Georgia, putting a comfortable number of miles between us.
“Yeah, and didn’t another fella get fired after you complained about sexual harassment?” Nan quickly interjected. “Brad, was it?”
“Yes and yes, but both those guys were skeezy,” I whined. Was my proud feminist grandmother really giving me a hard time about standing up against inappropriate advances? Unbelievable.
“Brad sexually harassed everyone and should have been fired a long time before I finally complained about him. And by the way, I’m not the only one who complained, either. Meanwhile, Peter seemed to have it out for me from day one. Thank goodness they’re both gone now.”
Nan frowned and fiddled some with her markers. “I’m not trying to upset you. Just trying to help bring our buddy home.”
“Look. I can see we’re not really getting anywhere with this line of questioning, so let’s back it up,” Charles said, jumping graciously to my rescue.
“Yes, and Angie seems quite worked up now, too.” Nan came to join me on the couch and placed one aged hand on my knee.
“It’s not fun making a list of people who despise you,” I told them both. It seemed like this day just kept getting worse and worse. “You should try it and see.”
“Oh, nobody dislikes me.” Nan fluffed her hair and wiggled in her seat. “I’m just a quirky old grandma.”
“Uh-huh.” I smirked. At least we’d moved on from compiling our Angie’s-worst-enemies list.
Charles came over and sat on my other side. “More and more this looks like it must be tied to Ethel Fulton’s estate and somebody who was unhappy about how the inheritance was doled out.”
“He’s right,” Nan said, leaning back into the hard antique cushion. “The timing is too suspect to be anything else.”
“And we’re sure he didn’t just wander off on his own?” Charles raised one eyebrow and waited.
“No way,” Nan and I cried in unison.