Dog-Eared Delinquent (Pet Whisperer P.I. Book 4)

by Molly Fitz

  My brow pinched in frustration. Clearly, this man had never been owned by a cat. The poor oaf.

  “My cat really prefers Apple products whenever possible,” I answered quietly, hoping that we wouldn’t attract any other clueless employees before my purchase was made. “Can we please just hurry?”

  “Yeah, sure. There’s a slight problem, though.” He stopped laughing and offered me a piteous expression. “The current generation of Apple Watches have to be tethered to a phone in order to work long range.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning it won’t work for what you want,” he explained somewhat impatiently.

  I glanced around the emptying store. Soon closing time would be upon us, which meant I needed to make a relatively quick decision. I could cater to my cat’s ego—or to his safety. You may think the correct choice would have been obvious, but it was a harder decision than you could possibly imagine.

  “Okay, show me the pet GPS units,” I decided aloud.

  The worker smirked as he led me over to a glass case at the end of the aisle where we’d been standing this whole time. I chose the one that looked most like it could be an Apple product and pointed to where it sat inside the display case.

  “Ooh. Great choice,” the worker said with a nod of affirmation. “It’s our best reviewed model.”

  “Yeah, that’s great,” I said dismissively before lowering my voice and saying, “I’ll slip you a twenty if you can help me with something.”

  He put both hands up and took a giant step back. “I hope you’re not trying to bribe me so that I’ll steal from my store.” He lowered his voice, came back beside me, and leaned in close. “Not saying I won’t do it. Just that the price has to be right.”

  “What? No.” I searched around for the security cameras, which were of course trained right on us. “I already told you, my cat is really committed to Apple products. So, do you maybe have a leftover sticker or something we can use to cover up the real logo and replace it with Apple’s?”

  His eyes widened with surprise. Yup, he’d definitely never been owned by a cat. “Um, maybe,” he mumbled as he glanced around for an escape route.

  “Listen, I know I sound crazy. I promise I’m not.” I smiled, hoping he’d see just how harmless I really was. “Not that it even really matters,” I continued quickly. “Can you please just help me make this look like an Apple product?”

  After a little more back and forth—and ultimately raising the bribe to forty dollars—the worker agreed to help. By the time I was done, I had a passable new accessory for Octo-Cat that I decided I’d tell him was the new Apple Pet. I stashed the instruction manual in my glove compartment and tossed the box in the trashcan outside. I’d just tell him it was the floor model, that we’d gotten the very last one.

  He’d like that, the whole exclusivity of his new toy.

  Sure enough, my cat was overjoyed when I presented him with his new collar charm that evening. “The Apple Pet. Wow,” he cooed. “It’s even more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.”

  “And you’re one of the very first to get one,” I added, ignoring the fact that he’d probably be the only cat ever with this particular Frankenstein of a GPS tracker.

  Nan helped us test it out by watching the tracker on her phone while I drove Octo-Cat around for a few minutes. When we returned she showed me the exact path we’d driven mapped out on her phone. It looked like everything was in place for his big solo mission.

  “Be safe,” I said the next morning, unable to resist the urge to give him a big hug and a kiss between his ears.

  “Angela, really,” he ground out while wriggling free of my arms. “The Apple Pet offers the latest state-of-the-art technology. Combine that with my superior intellect, agility, and stamina, and we’ll have this case solved by sundown.”

  I almost felt bad lying to him but knew he’d do better thinking he had Apple on his side. The plan was for him to drive with me to work that morning and then hang around outside the office, hidden among some bushes. Later, he’d slip into Peter’s car when he came out at the end of his shift and secretly accompany him to wherever he decided to go that evening.

  I personally hoped it would be the lair.

  Nan and I both had the app on our phones so that we could follow Octo-Cat’s location, and I’d also told him that I would pick him up at midnight, no matter where he was or what was happening at the time. I refused to leave him unassisted for the entire night, especially since Peter appeared more than a little bit unstable judging by all the interactions I’d had with him so far.

  “Are you sure?” I asked him one more time as we pulled into the tiny parking lot outside the firm.

  The determination in Octo-Cat’s gaze didn’t waver. “Of course I’m sure. You need me.”

  “Yes,” I repeated. “I need you. So, please be careful and make sure you come home safe.”

  “Angela, I…” His voice cracked and he bowed his head, then he dragged his sandpaper tongue along my hand in a quick show of affection that practically melted my heart.

  “Nothing of this later,” he whispered while waiting for me to open the door and set him loose.

  I was too stunned to say anything more as I watched him trot away and take cover in the greenery around my office.

  After a deep, calming breath, I headed into the office and fought back my urge to start checking the app right away. Nan had eyes on him, too. He would be okay.

  Of course, Peter came into work late for the first time since I’d known him. Those forty-odd minutes of thinking our plan would have to wait another day just about killed me, too. When Peter finally did show up for work, he studiously ignored me, even going so far as to pop some earbuds in as an excuse not to talk to me.

  Well, that suited me just fine.

  I waited as patiently as I could for my half-shift to end, then raced home and sat with Nan as we both watched the unblinking dot that represented Octo-Cat’s location on our phones.

  “Oh, it’s moving!” Nan shouted later that afternoon while we were both enjoying a cup of hot tea with homemade cookies to top off the light snack. Sure enough, the little dot had left the office and was now crawling down Main Street.

  I glanced at the time displayed on the top of my phone screen. “But it’s too early,” I protested. “Peter is supposed to work until five.”

  “Not today, it seems,” Nan said with a half-hearted shrug. Her eyes, however, shone with excitement as she watched the little dot continue its journey.

  In fact, we both fell silent as we tracked the dot along the screen. It turned down a series of side roads before finally coming to a stop.

  “Zoom in,” I told Nan. “What address is that?”

  She clicked the dot, and the app gave us the exact street and house number.

  “That must be where he lives,” I said, taking a quick picture of the screen in case we needed this information for later. “Good to know for future.”

  “What if he just does a Netflix and chill?” Nan asked, worry lining her aged forehead.

  “Who told you about Netflix and chill?” I asked in horror.

  Nan waved a hand dismissively. “One of the guys at Bingo. He said it’s what all the kids are doing these days. I’m glad you’d rather read than rot your brain with all that TV.”

  I nodded and hid a smile behind my hand. It was best that Nan stayed innocent as long as I could keep her that way.

  Unfortunately, it looked like she was right—at least when it came to what she assumed she’d meant earlier. The dot remained idle for hours. Poor Octo-Cat must have been going out of his mind just sitting there and waiting for Peter to do something skeezy.

  I yawned more than once, wondering if Nan and I would have to take shifts to watch the unmoving dot until it was finally time to go and retrieve Octo-Cat at midnight.

  How unthrilling and—even worse—unhelpful.

  I had all but declared today’s mission a bust, when suddenly the dot began t
o move again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “They’re headed downtown!” I shouted, recognizing the path after the dot took a few sharp turns and swung back onto Main Street. I grabbed my phone and rushed toward the door, not even taking the time to slip my feet into my tennis shoes properly.

  “I’m coming, too, dear,” Nan insisted in that sugar-sweet way of hers as she floated over.

  “No way,” I insisted right back, albeit with far more hostility. “We need you at home base in case there’s any trouble. Keep watching that dot!” I called over my shoulder as I slammed the door shut behind me and made a beeline straight to my car.

  If Peter and Octo-Cat were headed toward the lair, then I wanted to be there, too. I kept my phone hooked in its holster and watched the GPS app the entire time I drove. Luckily, Peter made a pit stop, which meant I miraculously managed to beat him downtown. I parked around the corner and then hid myself beside the dumpster in that same alley I now knew led to the magical lair.

  I watched breathlessly as the blinking dot approached my location.

  Closer, closer…

  They should have been right upon me now, but I could see neither Peter nor Octo-Cat. Instead, a humongous pit bull burst into the alley and charged straight toward me. I was so shocked by his sudden arrival that it took me a second to realize his sharp and shiny teeth held something clenched between them.

  My cat!

  Oh my gosh, this abnormally large dog was carrying Octo-Cat by the scruff of his neck, and he looked mad. Tough, too.

  “Please, Mr. Dog,” I said, my voice squeaking even though I wanted to appear as strong as possible in that moment. “Please don’t hurt us.”

  The dog locked eyes with me and growled a warning.

  I froze in place the way the Girl Scouts had trained me to do in case of a wild animal attack. Would this dog bite me? Kill me? And why was he still clinging so tight to my cat?

  The door to the lair opened and the menacing dog hurled Octo-Cat down the stairway. A sickening crack followed as Octo-Cat hit the ground below. No!

  “Get in there. Now!” someone growled at me. The voice sounded like Peter’s, but it had to belong to someone else, right? Maybe Moss stood nearby just out of sight.

  I still couldn’t move, although now I was more afraid for Octo-Cat than for myself. Was he okay after that savage fall? What did the dog want with him? And how did it know about the lair?

  “Angela!” Octo-Cat cried from the distance. “Angela, don’t! It’s a trap!”

  Oh, Octo-Cat! He was okay. I wanted to cry for joy, but I still couldn’t move.

  “I said get in there!” the voice came again, and then the pit bull head-butted me down the staircase. The door slammed shut and disappeared. Even if I finally got my wits about me, I couldn’t have escaped if I wanted to.

  The pit bull stood seething with rage at the top of the stairs. “I knew you would be trouble,” he said. This time I knew for sure the voice had come from the dog. It was speaking to me, much in the same way Octo-Cat did. But how? How was I understanding him? And why did he sound so much like Peter?

  Octo-Cat lay across the room just a few feet from the far wall. He struggled to stand but fell back on his side with a gasp of pain.

  “Thought cats were always supposed to land on their feet?” the dog taunted us in Peter’s voice once again.

  “That’s a low blow and you know it,” Moss said, appearing suddenly from the shadows. “What’s got your fur in a twist?”

  “Caught one of yours creeping about my territory,” the pit bull answered with a nod toward Octo-Cat. “Figured I’d bring him here and let you deal with him, seeing as he’s one of your kind.”

  Moss tensed, then narrowed his eyes and stared the dog down. “I’m not doing it this way. Show yourself.”

  I whipped my face back toward the dog, but not fast enough to see whatever transformation had occurred. Now it was Peter who stood crouched on all fours exactly where the dog had been. My eyes bulged and strained, trying desperately to find a way to explain what they’d just seen.

  “Take a picture,” Peter said with a wry smile. “It will last longer.”

  A picture? That wasn’t actually a bad idea. I still had my phone clenched in my hand from tracking the GPS app, so I raised it toward Peter and—

  He slapped it right out of my hand. “Seriously? Ever hear of sarcasm?” he demanded, curling his lip in disgust.

  “Okay, enough!” Moss cried, yanking me away from Peter with surprising strength and lifting me up high so I dangled right in front of his face. “You. I’ve met you before. Didn’t you say Peter was the one who invited you here in the first place?”

  I nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. Although I was still terrified, I knew I stood a better chance of eliciting sympathy from Moss than from Peter. Could I somehow convince him to let us go without further harm? I had to try.

  “Yes, yes!” I shouted. “He told me to come here last weekend, but then he didn’t show up!”

  Moss sucked air in through his teeth. “That’s bad form, dog. Really bad form.” Turning back to me, he said, “I thought you were one of us. Why are you hanging out with him?”

  “One of…”

  “He’s a cat,” Octo-Cat informed me with a wheeze. “I thought I smelled it on him the first time we met, but I didn’t know that people could, could…”

  “Become animals?” Peter asked, changing into a dog again so quick I still couldn’t tell how it was done. He rounded on Octo-Cat and raised his hackles. “Not so tough now are you, big shot?”

  “Hey!” I cried, straining to break free so I could defend my poor, injured kitty. “Leave him alone!”

  Moss groaned and set me back on my feet. “You know the lair is neutral territory,” he said to Peter. “So knock it off already.”

  When I glanced back toward Moss, he’d transformed into a stunning long-haired cat with those same ethereal green eyes.

  “Can you two please stop doing that?” Octo-Cat whimpered from his place on the floor. “It’s making me dizzy.”

  “Are you okay?” I hurried over to him, then knelt down to lift him into my arms.

  Octo-Cat allowed me to cradle him to my chest, which he’d never done before.

  “I’m fine,” he croaked. “Just down a life is all.”

  Seeing the intense worry that, no doubt, filled my expression, he let out a dry chuckle. “Hey, don’t look so worried. I still have almost half of them left. Just give me another few seconds here and I’ll be back to fighting form.”

  “No,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his and fighting against the hot tears that threatened to spill. “No more fights. This stops now.”

  “Or what?” Peter asked with a sneer as he observed Octo-Cat’s and my tender moment with thinly veiled hatred.

  “I said knock it off already!” When Moss hissed, it sounded like air being let out of old tires. “We agreed to work together when it came to Glendale.”

  “Then she’s a threat to us both,” Peter spat, human again and with his arms crossed tightly against his chest.

  Moss studied me with a frown. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Lock her up and let the council decide?”

  Peter gave one emphatic nod. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

  “Fine,” Moss said, returning to his human form faster than a snap. He picked me up and pushed me into the corner of the room. I tried to charge after him but was stuck behind some kind of invisible barrier.

  “How do you like the fishbowl?” Peter asked with an evil smile I wanted to slap right off his cruel face. If I hadn’t liked him before, now I outright hated him. I would never be able to forgive him for hurting my best fur friend.

  “We still don’t know who sent her or why, so maybe we should stop antagonizing her until we get some answers,” Moss pointed out, though he sounded unsure of the words even as he spoke them.

  “What’s going on?” I cried, still clutc
hing Octo-Cat tightly to my chest. My tears had broken free now and drove down my cheeks in hot trails.

  Moss bit his lip, then turned to Peter. “We at least need to remove the glamor if we’re going to hold her here. Too long without it and she’ll go crazy. You know that, Peter.”

  “Fine.” Peter snapped his fingers and that old, dank basement suddenly transformed into a posh underground club. Finally, I could see why they called it the lair. Cherry wood paneling lined the walls and the floor had been laid with marble. Sure enough, Octo-Cat and I were in a fishbowl just as Peter had described. The tiny room that imprisoned us was made of glass on two sides and hard wall on the others.

  I jumped back to my feet and pounded on the thick glass. “Let us out!” I screamed.

  “Not a chance,” Peter said with a sinister laugh. He was definitely enjoying this way too much. Had this been his plan all along? But why go to such lengths to steal my crummy paralegal job?

  “We can’t let you go just yet. Not until the council decides,” Moss said with an apologetic shrug.

  Again with the council? Who were they? And what would they decide?

  I looked past Moss in a frantic search for some kind of escape route. That was when I realized we had an audience.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The lair appeared to be a boy’s club. I didn’t spot a single woman among the spectators, although I supposed any of the many cats or dogs could have been female. I sank down in the corner where the two wood walls joined together and tried not to look intimidated by the night’s bizarre turn of events.

  After nursing his wounds a bit longer, Octo-Cat slipped out of my arms and began to pace the length of the glass. “Chin up. Don’t let them see you break,” he instructed, almost as if he’d been imprisoned before. I’d definitely be asking about his kittenhood once we were free of this whole mess.

  “What happened when you were with Peter?” I asked quietly, hoping nobody else would be able to pick up on our whispered conversation.

  “Oh, Angela. It was all my fault.” He turned to me suddenly, immense sorrow reflecting in his normally steady amber gaze. “Everything would have been fine, but on the drive downtown, Peter took a turn really fast and I couldn’t help it. I-I-I-I yowled!”