Молли Фитц

Legal Seagull

Legal Seagull

Pet Whisperer P.I.

Molly Fitz

© 2020, Molly Fitz.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Editor: Jennifer Lopez (No, seriously!)

Cover & Graphics Designer: Cover Affairs

Proofreader: Jasmine Jordan

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

Sweet Promise Press

PO Box 72

Brighton, MI 48116

Contents

About This Book

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

What’s Next?

A New Series from Molly!

Welcome to Tattered Pages

More from Blueberry Bay

Even More Molly Fitz

About This Book

Just as I was beginning to think we’d never find the last missing member of our long-lost family, a seagull named Bravo shows up with both a promise and a threat.

He claims he’s been watching me for a long time—even before I gained my strange ability to talk to animals. He also says that if I help settle a dispute between warring flocks, then he’ll personally take me to see the one person I’ve been all but dying to meet. If I refuse to help, however, he’ll send an army of mercenary woodpeckers to destroy my house. Yikes!

Unfortunately, I’ve already promised Octo-Cat that I’ll take him on a cross-country trip to visit his girlfriend out in Colorado. With Nan and I on the road, it falls to Charles and Pringle to investigate in our absence.

Will they be able to solve the case according to the flock’s satisfaction? What shocking secrets has Nan been keeping from me now? And will I be able to survive more than 70 hours in the car with my complaining kitty?

The mysteries abound in our most unusual adventure yet.

Author’s Note

Hey, new reader friend!

Welcome to the crazy inner workings of my brain. I hope you’ll find it a fun and exciting place to be.

If you love animals as much as I do, then I’m pretty sure you’re going to enjoy the journey ahead.

This book is just one of many brain-tickling adventures with Angie, Octo-Cat, and the gang, so make sure you keep in touch to keep in the know!

I’ve done my best to make it easy by offering several fun ways to access sneak peeks of upcoming books, monthly giveaways, adorable pictures of my own personal feline overlords, and many other cool things that are just for my inner circle of readers.

So take a quick moment now to choose your favorite:

Download my app

Join my VIP reader group

Sign up for my newsletter

Kick off a cat chat on Facebook

Anyhoo, I hope you’ll enjoy reading Octo-Cat’s latest adventure. When you’re done, consider giving my brand-new series Paranormal Temp Agency a try. It all starts with book 1, Witch for Hire.

Okay, ready to talk to some animals and solve some mysteries?

Let’s do this!

Molly Fitz

To anyone who wishes she could talk to her animal best friend…

Well, what’s stopping you?

Chapter One

It all started with a coffee maker that should have been tossed into the dumpster years ago. One fated zap from that thing, and I reawakened with the strange ability to speak with animals.

Ever since then, my life has been full of four-legged chatter. You’d think being able to understand animals would mean that I’d know more about the world around me, but instead I find myself knowing less and less as I’m tossed into one mystery after the other.

I guess that’s why I set up shop as a private investigator…

Oh, hi. My name’s Angie Russo, and I’d be remiss not to mention that my partner in solving crime is none other than my tabby cat, Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq, P.I. And much to his chagrin, I’ve taken to calling him Octo-Cat for short.

When Octo-Cat entered my life, he brought the first of many mysteries and a giant trust fund from his previous owner, for which I am now the guarantor. It pays our monthly bills and then some—including the giant Blueberry Bay manor house that he tricked me into buying. It’s a good thing his previous owner hooked us up because we’ve earned exactly zero dollars for our investigative efforts to date.

My grandmother, Nan, lives with us and uses her retirement funds to pitch in, even though I tell her not to. She keeps our kitchen stocked with fresh baked goods and our walls decorated with all kinds of quirky homemade art projects—yeah, she’s worked in everything from metal to hand-spun silk. She’s a bit of a character, but we can always count on Nan to keep things interesting for us all.

Another roommate of ours is Paisley, the mostly black tri-color Chihuahua Nan rescued from the shelter last year. Paisley is an unfailing optimist and eternal source of joy. She makes a strong contrast to our backyard neighbor, Pringle the unrelentingly irritating and frequently villainous raccoon.

You probably won’t believe me, but everything I’m about to tell you is true about Pringle. He has two treehouses with two big-screen TVs. He also has zero regard for anyone’s privacy, especially mine. I’ve recently caught him snooping on my phone and even recording a video of me for submission to his favorite reality show. Ugh, I know. Here’s hoping I don’t get selected for that particular unwanted privilege.

My parents work in news, and my boyfriend Charles is the senior partner at the law firm where I used to work before giving up the glamorous paralegal life to become a full-time P.I… Or if you were to ask Pringle, “full-time unemployed.”

I realize the raccoon must seem like an all-around horrible neighbor based on my descriptions so far, but in truth, I just think he’s cranky. After all, he’s the only one around here who hasn’t found love.

That’s right.

Nan is now seeing the local jeweler, Grant Gable, and they are just adorable together. Meanwhile I’ve got Charles, and my parents have each other. Even Octo-Cat maintains a very serious long-distance relationship with minor Instagram influencer and former show cat Grizabella the gorgeous Himalayan.

True, Paisley is without any romantic attachment, but that doesn’t bother the spritely pup one bit. Mostly because things rarely ever do.

Even though Pringle won’t admit to being lovelorn, he has taken to calling his Nerf gun “Carla” and stroking it lovingly whenever he thinks no one is looking.

Things have gotten so out of hand with that Nerf gun of his that I’ve now inadvertently agreed to let my cat wield nunchucks to protect himself—and, in theory, me. This has only led to more slapstick violence and a fair number of bruised shins on my part.

He’s really not good with them.

Probably because he has to keep one part in his mouth while swinging the other as he stands on his hind legs and awkwardly twists his neck to the side. I think he’s actually hurt himself more than he’s managed to get me and Pringle.

I also don’t think either of them needs a weapon to navigate our daily suburban life, but maybe that’s just me.

Thankfully, I’ll be getting a break from trigger-happy Pringle this week as I take Octo-Cat on a cross-country road trip to visit his beloved Grizabella in Colorado. Yes, it’s a long drive from Maine, but Nan is coming along to share it with me, seeing as Octo-Cat still refuses to get on a plane.

Also, the last time we took a train, we wound up with a murder on our hands, so driving just felt like a better way to go this time around.

We’re leaving bright and early the day after tomorrow, and as much as I initially didn’t want to take this trip, I’m looking forward to the reprieve from everyday life.

Let’s just hope nothing too crazy happens before then…

Famous last words. Am I right?

I’d just settled into my favorite window seat with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and my eReader in the other when Octo-Cat came sauntering into the room, a single sheet of lined paper hanging from his mouth.

“Eeeh muh et,” he mumbled in my direction, his tail already flicking wildly even though I’d not yet done anything to disappoint him.

“Whatever it is, can it wait until later?” I asked. Unfortunately, I already knew what his answer would be.

He spat the paper onto the floor and glared at me with those unsettling amber eyes of his. “No. It can’t wait. We’re almost out of time as it is. Pick that up,” he commanded with a sneer.

I set my eReader down on the bench seat and walked my coffee over to my desk, then returned to grab the paper my cat had presented to me so unceremoniously.

Octo-Cat plopped onto his butt and watched with obvious disdain, but that was life with a cat for you. “That’s my list of necessities.”

I turned the paper over in my hands, then shook my head. “But it’s blank.”

“You better get writing then,” Octo-Cat said with a triple flick of his tail before launching into his long-winded soliloquy. “First I’ll need my bowties, both green and blue. I also need a new one that’s gold to match my eyes.”

“But your eyes aren’t—”

“Are you writing this down?” he snapped with a scowl that brooked no further argument.

Right.

I raced to my desk as he continued to rattle off his demands. With a red ink pen now in hand, I scrawled furiously but just couldn’t keep up. “A copy of Dr. Roman’s Guide to… um… Could you repeat that, please?”

My cat groaned, proving I’d disappointed him yet again. “Dr. Roman’s Guide to Romance. In audio. Pay attention.”

Ten minutes later, Octo-Cat had finally finished dictating his list. It filled both sides of the paper he’d brought me, and I’d even had to resort to scribbling the last few items on the back of my hand.

Well, it looked like I had my work cut out for me—and my day stolen from me.

“Are you sure you need all of this for our trip?” I asked in disbelief. “Some of this isn’t exactly easy to find.”

Octo-Cat nodded pertly. “I’m sure.”

“But—”

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He turned tail and sauntered away.

Remind me again why I was doing this huge nice thing for him when he couldn’t even bother to be the tiniest bit grateful?

It was like the more time I spent with my cat, the less I actually understood him. Maybe this road trip wouldn’t be so relaxing, after all.

Chapter Two

Fortunately, Nan agreed to take half of Octo-Cat’s giant list off my hands, which meant I’d actually have a few hours to get things packed and ready for myself before falling into bed in an exhausted heap that night.

As it was, I’d already been out running errands for several hours. And since nothing could ever be easy when it came to Octo-Cat, his requirements took me to shops scattered all around Blueberry Bay.

I’d saved Dewdrop Springs for last, seeing as it wasn’t exactly my favorite place to visit. In fact, it seemed every time I set foot in that wretched little town, somebody got murdered or robbed or bribed or embezzled. Fun.

Me? I just wanted to get my cat his audiobook and get home.

Of course, the title he’d requested had proven to be this season’s hottest new release. How had I not heard of it before now? Probably because I didn’t need any help in the romance department.

I was surprised Octo-Cat believed that he did. Normally he thought of himself as perfectly infallible. Further proof this upcoming visit with Grizabella meant the world to him. They hadn’t seen each other in-furson since they’d first met on the train in late November. How would they feel when they were together outside of their usual video chat setting?

As much as he annoyed me today—and, let’s be honest here, every day—I really hoped things went well for him… Even though I was now at my third bookstore.

As it turned out, both of the big box bookstores I’d tried had been sold out of Dr. Roman’s hot new release, meaning I needed to hop over the nearest independent bookstore and pray they had a copy.

When I’d called home to suggest an Audible subscription, he hung up without even speaking to me. When I called back, he groaned and slowly explained that he must absolutely have his book on CD because he didn’t trust an MP3 download not to “disappear from his device when he needed it most.”

Again, this was a self-help romance guide. What emergency could it possibly aid in? I knew better than to ask any clarifying questions, though.

Instead I swallowed any last vestiges of pride I’d once had and vowed to do whatever it took to keep my spoiled cat happy. That brought me to Tattered Pages, a hole-in-the-wall indie shop that had recently changed hands in favor of a much younger proprietress. I hadn’t been into the shop for years, preferring my eReader to page-and-ink. I was surprised to see how much it had changed since my last visit. With a comfy lounge area, cafe, and beautifully organized shelves, I had to hand it to the new owner—the place looked great.

Maybe I would be back to get something for myself once this big road trip was over.

“Hi. I’m Dakota. Can I help you?” a woman with bright probing eyes interrupted my thoughts by offering a huge smile as she marched my way.

“Oh, hi. I’m looking for an audiobook?” My voice went up at the end even though I hadn’t meant to ask a question.

Dakota scrunched her nose as she thought, then raised one index finger and pointed two aisles down. “I’ve got just the thing for you.”

I followed her wordlessly to a selection of Jeffrey Deaver books.

“You look like a mystery reader,” she informed me. “Am I right?”

Impressive.

“Normally, yes, but I’m actually here to pick up something for my, um, friend. Do you have Dr. Roman’s Guide to—?”

“Romance. Yes, I think we have one copy left.” Dakota led me to the opposite side of the store and began to rummage through a spinning wire rack. “It was here just a… Ah! Gotcha!”

She grabbed the requested audiobook out from behind another. “Messy, messy. Good thing I knew it was still here.”

“Thank you so much,” I said with a huge sigh of relief. My go-for work was now officially done.

Dakota waved goodbye from behind the counter after checking me out. “Make sure to come back another time and get some books for you!”

Yeah, I’d still try to avoid Dewdrop Springs as much as I possibly could, but now I could at least treat myself to a quick book shop visit next time I was in town.

Pleased with my ability to find the silver lining, I pushed through the door and out onto the street.

“No! I almost had him!” someone cried from beneath me.

I whipped around to find a fluffy orange Persian staring up at me with angry eyes. “Sorry,” I murmured as I paced down the block in search of my car. I hadn’t parked far, but—

“Wait, wait, wait!” that same voice followed me, growing closer with each syllable.

I stopped and turned toward her.

“You can understand me?” the cat asked, her mouth hanging open in awe. “Why can’t my useless human understand me, then?”

“Yes, and I don’t know,” I murmured, hoping nobody was around to see me talking to this strange cat in the middle of the very public street.

“My name’s Poppy, and I have some demands,” the Persian informed me.

Boy, was this familiar. Octo-Cat had said almost the exact same thing to me when he first learned I could talk to him, and he hadn’t stopped giving demands since.

I had no time to cater to the whims of an unfamiliar cat, so I mumbled my apologies and resumed searching for my car.

“Wait!” Poppy yelled at the top of her lungs. “Don’t leave yet!”

Her pleas weren’t enough to stop me a second time, though.

She growled and threw a hissy fit, but I still didn’t stop. “I’m not done with you. You better come back!”

I finally reached my car and slammed the door behind me. Just as I was frantically jamming my key in the ignition, something big thumped into the windshield right in front of me.

Ergh. That cat had better—

But, no, it wasn’t Poppy. Instead I was met with a wiggling white blob.

A bird.

Oh, no.

The orange Persian jumped onto the hood of my old sedan with a thud and stalked toward her disoriented prey.

Panicked, I did the first thing I could think of. I hit the horn on my car, which sent the feline running for cover.

The bird—who turned out to be a seagull—righted himself and then tapped on my windshield with his beak. “Might I have a quick word?”

Even though I still didn’t have time for any distractions, I rolled my window down and allowed him to join me in the car. Maybe I could drive him somewhere safer, somewhere far away from the overly worked-up feline.

“You are a tough one to track down,” the bird said once he’d settled himself on my passenger seat. “I’ve been all over the region chasing after you today.”

“Chasing after me? Why?”

“I’ve always kept tabs on you. Ever since the beginning.”

I felt a headache coming on. “The beginning of what?”

“Of you being able to understand us. We watch humans like you in case we ever need to call on a favor.”

My mind swirled with this new information. Yes, a bird needed a favor from me, but more importantly, there were others like me. I’d always hoped, but I’d never known for sure.

“Can you take me to meet the others?” I asked, my voice shaking. I didn’t have time for this, but then again, how could I possibly turn him away after the info he’d just shared?

The gull cocked his head to the side. “That depends.”

“Depends? On what?”

“If you help us, we’ll help you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Are you really going to force me to go straight to the nuclear option?”

I nodded, afraid to speak.

The bird shook his head and wings, giving himself a ragged appearance. “Look. If you don’t play nice, we don’t play nice. Let’s just say we have an army of woodpeckers ready to peck your house into the ground. You got me?”

“So either I help you, or you destroy my home?” I squeaked. A part of me wished I had left him to Poppy outside, but only a very small part.

“Hey, now you’ve got it.” He spread one wing to the side and took a bow.

“I’m kind of busy. I mean, I’m supposed to go on a road trip tomorrow. I’ll be gone all week.”

“Then un-busy yourself,” the seagull suggested rather unhelpfully and turned his back to me. Twisting his neck in a nearly ninety-degree arc, he eyed me head-on, his little eyes boring into me. “Unless, I guess, you don’t want to meet your long-lost grandmother.”

Chapter Three

I stared at my pushy seagull visitor, unwilling to blink my eyes for fear he might disappear. “Did you say...? M-M-My long-lost grandmother?”

The bird nodded, a smug expression on his beak. “We seagulls always have our eyes on the ground. In fact, I knew who you were even before you became my assignment.”

“But how?”

He shook a wing at me. “Now, now. That would be giving you the payment without first completing the job. So what do you say? Will you agree to help us?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. Ever since Pringle had unburied Nan’s secret letter, revealing the fact that my real grandfather had orchestrated my mother’s kidnapping, I’d been dying to meet the family I hadn’t known existed. My grandfather, William McAllister, had already died by the time we discovered his existence, but Mom and I had been able to connect with a number of other relatives who still lived down in Larkhaven, Georgia.

No one knew where my biological grandmother had ended up, though. No one except this seagull, apparently

“Good,” he said before settling himself on the dashboard. “Since you haven’t got wings, we’ll drive.”

I turned the key in the ignition. “Where are we going?”

“To the flock, of course. Head south by southwest.”

I’d never quite mastered navigating by cardinal directions, so I simply drove straight. When I started up the car, the bird clumsily fell back onto the seat, where he occasionally hopped up to get a view through the windshield and criticize my driving.

“Not that way. South by southwest!” the seagull shouted.

I turned to the left, which seemed to satisfy him.

“What’s your name?” I asked after we’d been driving for a while.

“Me? I’m Bravo. Second in command for Flock 82.” Wow, this was all so official. I had no idea birds were so well organized or that they organized themselves in a vaguely militaristic way.

“If you’re second in command, why were you assigned stalker duty? That doesn’t seem like a job for a high-ranking bird.”

Bravo clucked in disgust. “That’s what I said, but Alpha wasn’t having it. Said you were too important to trust to a rookie. You do your job now, and I’ll be everyone’s hero. Maybe score myself a new nest or even rise to challenge Alpha.”

“I don’t really understand how any of this works,” I confessed. “Birds are usually too afraid to talk to me.

“Not too afraid,” Bravo corrected. “We just find you wingless folk a bit tiring.”

Perhaps I should have been insulted, but if I could fly, I’d no doubt want to see more exciting things as well.

“This is the place,” Bravo said after a few more awkward minutes had passed. He motioned for me to park next to a row of dumpsters behind a strip mall.

“What now?” I asked after exiting my car.

Bravo let out a horrible shrieking caw, and suddenly an army of white descended from the skies.

The plumpest of the gulls landed right between me and Bravo and studied me with a frown curled on his beak. “Is this her?”

“Hi. I’m Angie.” I offered a hand in greeting, but then immediately withdrew it when I realized he had no way of shaking hello.

“You don’t look like a lawyer to me,” the seagull, who I now took to be Alpha, spat and lifted one foot into his under-plumage.

I chuckled uncomfortably. Maybe it was a good thing birds didn’t normally choose to chat with me. Let’s be honest here, they were pretty weird. Not only that, it seemed fully possibly that even the slightest misunderstanding could send Alpha pecking toward my eyes with hostile intent. Suddenly, my demanding tabby didn’t seem such a burden.

I shook my head and forced a smile. “I’m not a lawyer. I’m a private investigator.”

Alpha whipped his head to the side without moving his body an inch. “Not a lawyer, huh?” he addressed me while staring daggers at his second in command.

Bravo tittered nervously. “Of course you’re a lawyer. I found you at the law firm, remember?”

“I used to be a paralegal, but—”

“Stop helping,” he yelled through a gritted beak.

“This is why you’ll never be Alpha,” the seagull leader declared.

A few ill-spirited jeers rose up from the flock, and Bravo buried his face beneath a wing. Poor guy.

“I’m not a lawyer, but I can get you one. At no charge,” I sputtered, suddenly desperate to help the poor guy and not just because he knew where I could find my missing family.

Alpha stretched both wings overhead and opened his beak wide in a yawn. “Go on.”

“He’s my boyfriend. I can call him right now.”

“Stop squawking and start walking,” he told me with a stony gaze.

I took this to mean that I was to call Charles now. Dutifully, I pulled out my phone, noting it was still the early afternoon and praying Charles wouldn’t be in court or with a client.

He answered on the third ring. “Angie. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, but I have a bit of an emergency on my hands,” I mumbled into the receiver.

“Where are you?”

I walked around to the front of the strip mall and gave him the name of the first shop I saw. “In Dewdrop Springs,” I added.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” he promised without asking for any more information.

“Thank you. Love you,” I said before ending the call. I could explain once he arrived. That is, if I could figure out how to explain what I still didn’t understand myself.

“Well?” Alpha asked, hopping over to stand directly at my feet.

“He’s on his way,” I said, and Bravo released a giant sigh into the wind.

“Told you I had the right one,” he clucked.

“Can you maybe explain to me what’s going on?” Unfortunately, I couldn’t leave now that Charles was coming over to handle things—namely, because he still needed me to translate the animal-to-human communications.

“Why should we tell you anything?” Alpha demanded. “You’re just the go-between.”

Bravo chose that exact moment to fly to my shoulder and grab the soft fabric of my shirt as a perch. Naturally, I screamed and started waving my hands around wildly to unseat him.

“Jeez, relax,” he huffed. “This isn’t a Hitchcock movie, and I’m not a Hitchcock kind of bird. So relax already.”

Alpha laughed and flew onto my now free shoulder. “I like you. You’re funny.”

It took everything I had not to frantically bat him off. At least he liked me, right?

“That movie did wonders for us, you know? All these generations of gulls later, and good ol’ Hitchcock still has humans running from us in terror. We used to have to run from them, you know. Back in the dark ages of avian history.”

I nodded solemnly, amazed that any creature could be more ridiculous than my cat—let alone a whole society of them. “Is that what this is about?” I asked, too curious not to try to pry it out of him once more.

“No, no, no.” Bravo flew over and took a spot on my other shoulder, which meant I was now sandwiched between him and Alpha and feeling incredibly exposed. “This isn’t about humans at all. Well, except for the fact we needed your help.”

“You needed a lawyer,” I reminded them. “Why?”

“When dealing with an inferior opponent, sometimes you need an inferior judge. No offense. That’s where you and your lawyer friend come in.”

Ouch.

“An opponent, huh? Is somebody suing you? Charging you with a crime?” Both options seemed equally likely—and equally ludicrous.

“Don’t be silly. This isn’t about silly laws.” Alpha leaned forward menacingly and a mighty cry rose up from his flock. “This is war.”

Chapter Four

While waiting for Charles to join me in Dewdrop Springs, I texted Nan to let her know I’d be even later coming home than I’d originally suspected. Normally I would have called her for a quick chat since she was a notoriously bad texter, but Alpha’s declaration of war sent his entire flock into a cawing pandemonium. I could barely hear myself think, let alone speak. Yeah, even though I was still only in my late twenties, I would probably need a hearing aid after this one. Hopefully, Charles could help them with whatever they needed quickly, and we could all go about our separate lives again.

As scattered street lamps began to pop on and neon store signs lit to illuminate the growing darkness, I became very aware that I was standing alone and exposed in a crime-ridden commercial district with only a strange flock of seagulls to protect me.

When his sedan pulled into the strip mall parking lot, I jogged over to greet him. I did that a lot these days—jogged when I could just as easily have walked. I had Nan and our new morning exercise routine to thank for that one. I loved that I now felt strong and quick, secure in my body… Well, almost. Still couldn’t outrun my grandmother, though.

Charles parked and swung the door open, making a hasty exit. As soon as he was standing on solid pavement, I threw myself into his arms. Yes, it was definitely overdramatic, but tomorrow I’d be leaving on a lengthy cross-country trip and I was really going to miss him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling back to study my face.

I wiped at a tear I hadn’t realized I’d shed. Definitely overdramatic. “I’m fine. It’s just that—”

Before I could finish, the flock came rushing over with quickly flapping wings and ear-piercing cries.

“Is this the guy? Is this our lawyer?” Alpha demanded as he circled low.

Charles threw one hand over his head protectively and used the other to hold me close to his chest. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his heart thumping wildly beneath my cheek, his breaths coming out fast and short against my hair.

Bravo laughed as he at last landed on the hood of Charles’s car. “The Hitchcock maneuver, haha. Gets them every time.”

Okay, that was it!

I wriggled my way out of Charles’s protective grasp and turned to face the flock, wagging a finger at Bravo since he was closest. “If you want our help, there will be no more of this Hitchcock nonsense. You got it?”

“They’re just messing with us?” Charles’s voice came out choked. “For fun?”

I continued to glare at the birds as I nodded. “They threatened me, too. Said they’d send their woodpecker friends in to mess up my house if I refused to cooperate with whatever plan they have for us.”

“I don’t like this.” Charles glanced from me to the birds and back again. It was always awkward for him, taking part in these conversations with animals when he could only hear my side of things, but he still gave it his best. “I’m not sure we should help them if this is how they’re going to behave.”

Ahh, Charles. He’d make a great father one day. He already had the tough love thing down pat.

“What?” Alpha squawked. “But you said he’d be our lawyer. He can’t just say no. You already promised.”

I sighed to buy myself some time, then finally responded with, “Yes, we’ll help you as long as you promise to be civil from here on out.”

Alpha raised both wings overhead and bowed. “Bird’s honor.” I wasn’t sure how much I could trust his—or any other bird’s—honor, but I hoped for the best.

“Angie,” Charles said between gritted teeth, apparently far less appeased by Alpha’s promise. “Can I speak to you in the car for a moment?”

“Be right back,” I told the flock as I settled into his passenger seat. He’d turned on the seat heater for me on his way over, knowing I’d appreciate having it toasty warm when I got in.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, Charles spoke in a hasty whisper. His eyes reflected concern, worry—not anger or irritation. “Don’t you have to leave early tomorrow morning on your road trip? Why are you taking this on now?”

He was right, of course. The timing was dreadful, but what could I do? “I didn’t have much of a choice,” I answered in a small voice even though I’d hoped it would come out confident to allay his doubts.

“There’s always a choice. Whatever squabble these seagulls have they can solve themselves. You need to be well-rested so that you can focus on your trip and driving safely. Nothing they need could be more important than that.”

I loved that Charles always had my best interests at heart, no matter how inconvenient they were for him. Unfortunately he didn’t have the whole story yet. I didn’t either, and of course it was fully possible Bravo had lied to get me here.

Still, I had a chance—maybe a small one, maybe a big one—to finally fill the fissure in my heart that had opened wide when Pringle revealed our family’s hidden past. A part of me was missing, and these birds potentially knew how to find her. I needed to take the chance, not just for me but also my mother. She’d never known her true biological parents, and she deserved to meet the one that was still alive, to find out why she’d been shucked off under a strange veil of secrecy in the first place.

I swallowed hard, then finally raised my eyes to meet his. “They said they know where my grandmother is,” I revealed, then let out a slow, shaky breath.

He cocked his head to the side, clearly confused by this proclamation of mine. “Yeah, she’s back home preparing for the trip. Probably baking her fourth batch of cookies for the day.”

I held his eyes, placed a hand on his shoulder, and tried again. “No, the other one.”

“Your biological grandmother?” He gasped, unable to keep his voice down any longer. “But nobody knows what happened to her or where to find her.”

I motioned my chin toward the window. “They say that they do.”

“And you believe them?” Charles raised one skeptical brow. I couldn’t tell whether he thought I was crazy for choosing to trust them when his brief encounter with the gulls had already proven they played by their own set of rules. But I’d already made my mind up. Now it was time to choose my attitude. I could pout and question everything—or I could make the best of it, no matter how awkward.

“I think I do,” I answered after a brief hesitation. “But even if I’m wrong about this, I still have to try.”

He grabbed my hand and gave it a kiss. A giant smile lit his handsome face as he let my hand go and turned toward the driver-side door. “Then let’s go help some seagulls.”

Chapter Five

I clutched tight to Charles’s hand as Alpha and the rest of Flock 82 led us around the back of the strip mall and into the brambles behind the pavement. Once clear of the overgrowth, we reached a clearing filled with an oversized patch of dead grass that had likely only just been exposed again after months being covered in snow.

Alpha stopped and signaled for the rest of us to do the same. “Now that we have a bit more privacy, let us begin,” the leader gull announced, then flew up to perch on my shoulder.

Charles flinched but remained in place at my side, although now with a death grip on my hand.

“Go ahead. Tell us what you need,” I said with a very slight nod, not wanting to startle the wielder of the sharp beak that was currently far too close to my face for comfort.

Alpha turned his head at an odd angle to stare at my face, bringing that weapon-like beak even closer. “As I mentioned earlier, this is a most urgent matter. Flock 84 has declared war, and we have ten days to secure a peaceful resolution before that declaration becomes official. We want to avoid war at all costs, because—”

“Hang on,” I mumbled. “I need to be able to translate for Charles.”

Alpha let out an irritated cluck but waited for me to share what I’d learned so far.

“Okay,” I said once the other human was caught up. “Just pause every couple sentences as you keep going.”

The bird shook out his feathers, clamping his talons into my shoulder a bit too firmly in an effort to keep his balance as he did so. “Like I was saying, we want to avoid war at all costs, because Flock 84 is much larger and better equipped for battle.”

“What does a war between seagulls entail?” I asked, trying not to laugh as I pictured a pair of angry white birds fighting over a fast-food wrapper. It was a scene I had witnessed more times than I could count, growing up on the Bay.

“Silence.” Alpha gave me a sharp peck on my collar bone. He hadn’t applied much force, but it still really, really hurt.

I shook him off my shoulder and rubbed at the sore spot above my chest.

As I did that, Charles jumped into protective boyfriend mode. “If you hurt her again, I’ll end your war before it even begins by feeding all of you to my cats!”

A panicked caw rose up, and several of the gulls took flight in an attempt to add some distance between themselves and this new guy who was aligned with their biggest predator.

“If we must respect you, then you must respect us,” the gull told me. “You laughed at the thought of dozens in my flock getting slaughtered.”

I knew instantly that he was right. I’d been far too insensitive given that lives were on the line. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice ringing out in the night like a bell. “Please do go on. We want to help however we can.”

“We have ten days to seek a peaceful resolution, and it’s up to us—the flock under attack—to declare the governing law. We chose human law, and that’s where you and your foul-mouthed little friend come in.”

I translated for Charles, leaving out the insult.

“Why would they choose human law?” he asked with a scrunched brow.

It was a good question. I wanted to know that, too.

“As I’m sure my second has already informed you, we keep tabs on you humans. Especially those of you who are gifted with the voice. All birds watch, but 82 watches closest of all. We knew we could reach out to you, a human with the voice and legal expertise. 84 will have a hard time finding someone to defend them within the allotted waiting period. Let alone to build a case.”

“Makes sense, but what are you fighting for?” I asked, hoping his answer would be the final piece needed to make sense of the flock’s needs and how Charles and I fit into it all.

“Land,” he said simply.

When he didn’t elaborate, Bravo spoke up. “Our neighboring flock, number 83, went missing several weeks ago. Assuming they’d abandoned their territory, we moved in to secure it for 82. But then 84 got it into their bird brains that the land should be theirs since they have a larger population.”

“Why do you think it should go to 82?” I asked, not letting it slip that I thought the warring flock had sound logic here.

Alpha narrowed his eyes at me—at least I think he did. It was kind of hard to tell with birds since their eyes were set on either side of their head instead of straight above their beaks. “Because we were here first. Also, 83’s former land sits nicely with ours.”

“Here?” I asked with a squeak as Alpha flew back to claim his place atop my shoulder. This couldn’t possibly be about some strip mall on the shady side of Dewdrop Springs. The rental prices here were practically free because so few ever wanted to step foot anywhere near this beaten-up town.

Alpha hopped from my shoulder onto Charles’s upper arm and used his beak to climb the rest of his way up to my boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is only a small part of the territory. We birds cover a lot of mileage in a day, so naturally our domains are large and encompass several human cities.”

“Does your flock cover Glendale, too? That’s where we live.” I had no idea birds kept their own maps and territory lines, but now that I thought about it, this made perfect sense. Just as their flock hierarchy and lack of a formal judicial system also made sense.

“Yes,” Alpha stated simply. “The entire bay is now ours with this new acquisition. Though, we need to avoid the war to keep it.”

“And you know where I can find my grandmother,” I reminded him since my involvement hinged largely on this one fact. “Does that mean she’s close? Somewhere near the bay?”

“She is closer than you know,” Alpha said in a maddeningly cryptic way. He shook out his feathers again, giving Charles quite the start. “Also closer than I know. Bravo is the one who tracks these matters.”

“But you’ll take me to her if we help?” I practically begged, needing this confirmation more than anything else in that moment.

“If you win our case, then yes.”

“We will,” I promised, because it seemed like the only option. “We’ll win it for you.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Angie,” Charles whisper-yelled. “You never promise the client you’ll win, only that you’ll fight your hardest for them.”

“I doubt you’ll get disbarred over how you represent some flock of seagulls out in Dewdrop Springs,” I responded with a nervous chuckle.

“If your partner has doubts,” Alpha warned, giving me some serious side eye, “then we can call this whole thing off now. It’s only the lives of my flock on the line.”

“No, no, no!” I cried. “We’ll help, and he’s just being modest. He’s the best lawyer in all of Maine. I promise you that.”

“Angie—” Charles started again.

This time Alpha cut him off. “If you’re worried about your payment, worry not. The flock will arrange something worthwhile to thank you for your efforts.”

I quickly translated.

“It’s not about money, or whatever passes for money with birds. I just can’t make a promise I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep. I will definitely give your case my all, though.” Charles risked craning his neck to look Alpha in the eye. “I want to save your flock and prevent the war, too. And I think you have a very strong case in your defense. I’ll represent you to the very best of my abilities. I don’t often lose in court, and I don’t plan on losing this time.”

“Then I am satisfied,” Alpha said with a curt nod. “We’ll meet again tomorrow to discuss your progress. I’ll send Bravo.”

With that, the gulls let out a collective caw and rose into the night sky, leaving Charles and I to make our own way back to the parking lot.

Ten days.

If all went to plan, I would meet my long-lost grandmother in just ten short days. I still couldn’t believe it.

Chapter Six

After being summarily dismissed by Alpha and his flock, Charles and I drove our separate cars to a little diner just outside the Dewdrop Springs city limits. He ordered a coffee, but I sprung for a hot fudge sundae with an extra cherry on top.

“So what’s our plan?” he asked casually, holding the steaming mug between his hands.

Not even the sweetness of my dessert could mask the bitterness of what I realized had to happen next. I pushed my long-handled spoon as far down as it would go in the soda shop style glass and heaved a giant sigh.

“I’ll tell Octo-Cat I can’t take him to see Grizabella. He won’t be happy, but I can take him another time. Soon, even. It’s just that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I refuse to let it slip by. I might never meet my bio grandma otherwise.”

Charles sucked air through his teeth, then regarded me with a frown. “You can’t change your travel plans. It’s too last minute for that. And I know you don’t want to deal with how cranky Octo-Cat will be for the rest of his nine lives if you do.”

I pressed my back against the firm vinyl of the booth. Charles was right, as always. There would be hefty penalties to pay for disappointing Octo-Cat, but I just couldn’t see any way around it. “What choice do I have, though?” I asked.

“You go as planned. I’ll work on things here.” With that, he pulled my sundae to his side of the table and stole one of the cherries from the top.

“You can’t talk to them,” I pointed out, leaning over the table to reclaim my sundae and popping the remaining cherry into my mouth.

Charles smiled. “You use FaceTime with Octo-Cat, right? Can’t we use it for the seagulls, too?”

“But what about your caseload? You’ve been so busy lately. I’d hate to add another thing when—”

“Angie, relax. It’s okay. I want to help. Besides, my girlfriend is going out of town for the week. I’ll need something to keep me busy on my off hours. Might as well be this.” He shrugged and took a slow sip of coffee.

I waited for him to set the mug back onto the table. “Are you sure?”

He reached forward and grabbed both my hands, then wedged his fingers between mine. “Completely. You need this trip, and so does your cat. Besides, I already have a few case precedents in mind that should make winning this thing a cinch.

“You’re too good to me,” I said with a happy sigh. Especially considering he seemed to be quite afraid of the flock, but I didn’t mention that part aloud.

“It’s no big deal. They said they have ten days, and you’ll be back by then. We can deliver the big case together.”

“Sounds perfect.” And it did.

Charles’s features pinched as he leaned back against the red and white vinyl booth. “There’s just one part I’m not sure about. They mentioned that Flock 83 disappeared, but they never said why or where they went.”

I spooned a massive heap of hot fudge into my mouth and moaned with pleasure. “They’re birds. Birds migrate. I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

Charles bit his lip and nodded. “Probably not. Still, I might feel better if I knew for sure. It could help the case, too.”

“I don’t know much about that, but I bet if you could get Bravo to talk to you alone without Alpha there, he’ll be more forthcoming.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now tell me about what you did today before the run-in with those birds.”

We laughed and chatted until I scraped the last smudge of gooey sweetness from my sundae. It was far shorter than I would have liked, but we both had big days ahead of us tomorrow.

Charles stood and extended a hand to me to help me out of the booth. “I’m going to miss you so much,” he said before giving me a goodbye kiss that would need to last almost a full week.

Despite leaving early that morning with my human-do list, I arrived home after Paisley’s self-prescribed bedtime of eight o’clock. The little dog, who lay snoozing by the front door, lifted her head groggily and thumped her tail against the hardwood floor.

“Are you home now, Mommy? I couldn’t sleep without knowing you’d made it back safe and sound.”

I set my bags on the floor and then scooped her into my arms and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “I’m home, sweetie. Go get some sleep.”

She licked my hands as I bent to set her back down, then raced upstairs to find Nan, her little tail swinging back and forth the entire time.

I could always count on our Chihuahua for a warm welcome. Octo-Cat, on the other hand, did not look pleased to see me.

“Took you long enough,” he spat from his perch about halfway up the staircase. “Did you at least get everything on my list?”

“Other than the stuff Nan picked up, yeah. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Stuff,” he said with a yawn. “I don’t like you calling my things that.”

He’d demanded everything from a specific brand of shrimp cocktail to that infuriating audiobook. I didn’t know what else to call that odd grouping other than “stuff.”

“Why are you so late?” he asked, running up the stairs in front of me as I trudged slowly after him.

“Something came up. Something with seagulls,” I muttered, really not wanting to get into all that right now.

Octo-Cat arched his back and had the audacity to hiss at me. “You’re not backing out on me. Are you? Because that is the lamest excuse you’ve come up with yet.”

Oh, if only he knew how close I’d been to packing it in. He was lucky I loved him so much and that Charles loved me so much.

“Bright and early tomorrow morning. I’ll be ready.” I really should have lectured him on his poor manners or hurtful lack of gratitude, but I was just too tired to deal with him anymore that night.

“Good,” he said, sashaying down the hallway to his bedroom and slipping through the slightly open door.

I shook my head and continued up another flight of stairs to my tower bedroom.

I was in for a very long week. Our road trip would take us thirty hours of driving each way—and that was without any breaks to eat, sleep, or stretch our legs. Thankfully I’d have Nan to split driving shifts with me, though I didn’t love that she had wanted to take her tiny Audi coupe cross-country rather than my roomier old sedan.

Besides the drive itself, I knew I was in for an awkward time visiting with Grizabella’s owner, Christine. She didn’t know I could talk to animals and I preferred to keep it that way. This meant I’d needed to come up with a farfetched excuse that I’d already planned to be in town and would love it if she could watch Octo-Cat for me while I was off at my fake conference.

She’d bought it hook, line, and sinker. Really, she had no reason to suspect my cover story was a lie. Even though it was a harmless one, I still felt bad. Not bad enough to risk exposure of my freakish—and often troubling—ability, but still.

Despite today’s hiccough with the seagulls, everything would still happen to plan with this trip, whether I spent time agonizing over the details or not. And I definitely preferred not.

I quieted my thoughts, promising myself I’d deal with each new thing as it came. The last thing on my mind before I drifted off to sleep was that I really hoped my cat knew how much I loved him, and that he would at least try to be nice to me for the duration of the trip.

Yes, I still believed in miracles, it seemed.

Chapter Seven

I awoke to the sound of four little feet charging rapidly up and down my private staircase. The stomping rose to the top of the stairs then paused.

“Reo-reow!” Octo-Cat cried from the other side of my door, a cat possessed. His point apparently now made, he raced back down the stairs and up again and down before letting out another echoing cry. “Reowowoweoeoweoew!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. He so rarely got the zoomies, but when he did, my sides usually ended up aching from all the unexpected laughing at his antics.

“Seems like someone’s more than a little bit excited about our big trip,” I called after flinging the door open.

My cat rushed into the room so fast, he appeared as little more than a brown blur. Slowing himself only slightly, he hopped onto my unmade bed and pounced on my pillow, hopping up and down on his front paws. “It’s morning. Can we go now? Reo-reow!”

And he was off like a shot once again.

I glanced toward the window, which hung dark without even the slightest hint of sunlight yet peeking through. We had planned on being up early, but…

A quick check of my phone confirmed that it was hardly past four AM. The plan had been to set out at six…

Oh, well.

There really was no point bemoaning my lost sleep, nor was there any sense in trying to nab any additional shuteye before we headed out. Octo-Cat was simply too excited to accept any kind of delay.

I got dressed quickly, choosing a pair of blue polka-dot sweatpants and a T-shirt featuring a cartoon cat with his face pressed through a slice of white bread. The first time I’d worn it, Octo-Cat had insisted that the pun on “purebred” not only didn’t make sense but was also offensive. Considering his past reaction to the harmless T, today seemed the perfect day to wear it. Not only would it help me stay comfortable during the long drive, but it would also enable me to exact a modicum of revenge for the early wake-up call. I smiled to myself as I swept my hair back into a messy bun and smeared Chapstick over said smile.

When I padded downstairs lugging my haphazardly packed suitcase behind me, I found Nan up and full of pep. She held out a shiny metallic travel mug, which I graciously accepted.

As I took my first glorious sip, Paisley ran into the room, singing, “Oh, what a beautiful day for an adventure!”

She yipped when she saw me, stood on her hind legs, and placed her front paws just below my knee—her signal that she wanted to be picked up.

I lowered my mug and took in the sight of her for the first time that morning. “Nan,” I cried in shock. “What have you done to her?”

“That’s her travel look. Don’t you like it?” My grandmother patted the swirly pink scarf on her own head. It matched the one wrapped around the Chihuahua’s neck perfectly. A paisley print, I realized.

On top of that, Paisley the dog also wore a pair of hot pink goggles—to help with wind-burn Nan later explained, which I guessed meant we’d be driving with the windows down for at least part of the trip. Octo-Cat would love that.

And, sure enough, after we all piled into the car—Nan in the passenger’s seat, me driving, and the pets and luggage crammed into the sports coupe’s tiny back seat—my grandmother immediately rolled down both windows.

“I should have sprung for the convertible when I had the chance,” Nan remarked, much to the horror of Octo-Cat, who’d finally shaken off his zoomies and was now back to his usual crabby self.

“Are you sure we can’t take my car?” I asked one last time while waiting for the engine to warm up a bit.

Nan turned to me, aghast. “Of course not. What’s the point in having a nice car if you never use it?”

Well, I wasn’t the one with the fancy sports car, but we would be sharing shifts, so I let that go. Our goal was to drive straight through to Colorado by alternating driving and sleeping shifts and consuming lots and lots of caffeine. I’d have preferred to actually stop at a motel for some rest along the way, but once Nan suggested making the trip a straight shot, Octo-Cat refused to have it any other way.

Tired but determined, I transitioned to drive.

Paisley let out a happy bark from right behind me, returning to her earlier song with even more volume than before. Frigid morning air rushed into the car as we picked up speed, and Paisley leaped over the center console, then scrambled onto Nan’s lap, using that extra bit of height to stick her goggled face out the window.

“See,” Nan clucked. “And you thought the goggles were too much.”

“Can we please close the window and turn on the sun now?” my cat moaned. He’d never liked car trips, but at least now he could take them without needing to keep his claws dug firmly into my thighs for added comfort—his, obviously, not mine.

“You woke us all up two hours early. It’s going to be dark for a while,” I reasoned.

“Dark, fine. But does it need to be so cold?” I glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and found his unhappy amber eyes boring into mine.

Paisley let out another excited yip in response.

“Maybe we can take turns with the window the same way we’re doing for the driving,” I offered with a small shrug, willing myself to focus on the road ahead of me and not at the angry animal behind me.

Then something strange happened. In fact, if I hadn’t been there myself, I never would have believed in.

Octo-Cat laughed. He actually laughed!

“The important thing is we reach my dear Grizabella as quickly as possible,” he said with a blissful sigh.

“Yeah,” I answered with a smile, hardly believing how reasonable he was being.

“Now drive faster please,” he commanded in a perfectly pleasant way.

I checked my speedometer and shook my head. “I’m already a few miles above the speed limit. Sorry.”

“Why sorry? You and I both know this car can go a lot faster.”

A quick look in the rear-view mirror revealed he was being perfectly serious, and if I didn’t comply with his demands, he’d start nagging at me again. I groaned and pressed down on the accelerator with a slight bit of added pressure before easing back again.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long, long drive.

Chapter Eight

A couple hours into our trip, the sun had finally begun to peek over the horizon. Nan had spent most of that morning dozing softly beside me. Paisley had settled in her lap and was making cute whimpering noises as she rested. Octo-Cat, on the other hand, remained in the back seat endlessly droning on about all his plans for his week with Grizabella.

I nodded along saying nothing as was expected, since when Octo-Cat spoke, he usually did it for his own benefit rather than anyone else's.

"Mommy," a small voice rose up from beside me. I quickly turned to see Paisley had lifted her head and was staring at me with wide, sparkling eyes. "I have to go potty.”

We’d just passed the perfect exit for a quick pit stop not even two minutes ago. We were also on the portion of our trip that took us through rural countryside, which meant the options would be few and far between.

"I'll keep an eye out," I said, since that was the best I could do. "I promise."

"Excuse me, I'm talking here," the tabby in the back seat growled and then continued with his long-winded soliloquy.

"I don't think I can hold it," the little dog squeaked, standing now and raising one paw after the other in excitement.

Nan awakened with a snort and glanced around the car with bleary eyes.

Paisley whimpered again, louder and more persistent.

“I promise we’ll stop as soon as the next exit pops up. It won’t be too much longer, okay?" I hoped this little white lie ended up being true.

"I can't hold it. I can't hold it," Paisley squealed.

I knew better than to push our luck, lest Nan land herself with a lap full of doggie pee. So I pulled the sports coupe to the side of the highway, grateful there weren't many people out at this early hour. Rush hour hadn't even begun yet.

"Be very careful," I explained before opening my door and allowing Paisley to trot after me. "And don't go where I can't see you!"

Nan had already fallen back asleep in her seat, which meant it was up to me to keep track of both animals.

Octo-Cat sauntered out and began to walk up the shoulder of the highway. I let him do his thing. Mostly because if I corrected him, he’d be extra sure to do the exact opposite of what I wanted.

Instead, I turned back to watch as Paisley squatted and sighed with pleasure upon relieving herself. “It feels so good.”

“Dogs are such disgusting creatures.” Octo-Cat marched toward me with his tail standing straight and tall. "Well," he said, cocking his head expectantly.

"Well, what?" I responded with a sigh.

"Where's my litter box?" He stopped and plopped his rear on the pavement, regarding me with a sneer. "You can't expect me to use the litter box without the litter box."

"I am not assembling your box for a pit stop. It doesn't come out until we reach Colorado.”

"So you expect me not to relieve myself in all that time? Impossible."

“You can relieve yourself. Just not in the box. I have nowhere to throw the litter once you're done, and it’s incredibly wasteful to get it out for a single use. And I'm not driving with an open litter box in the car, so forget that right now.”

"And what do you expect me to do?" he asked with a huff.

Paisley trotted back over and gave Octo-Cat a big lick on the face. "I can teach you how to potty outside, Octavius. I don’t mind at all.”

"No, thank you," he said with a shudder.

I crossed my arms and stared at him down the bridge of my nose. "Are you going to go or not?"

"Not," came his terse reply.

"Fine. Then let's get back in the car."

Once we’d all piled back in, Octo-Cat’s excited talk of his plans with Grizabella turned to bitter complaints about my unwillingness to accommodate his litter box needs.

"Will you just stop it already?" I asked after a solid ten minutes of this. "I'm sorry I upset you, but there's nothing we can do about it now."

"I would think you had a little more respect by now," he scoffed. “After all we’ve been through! After all I’ve done for you. You can’t just—”

"Oh!" I interrupted, having landed upon an idea I rather liked. "That audiobook you sent me all over Blueberry Bay looking for... Let's listen to it."

His voice softened. "Oh, yes. Shockingly, that is a good idea from you."

I rolled my eyes as I shoved the CD in and turned up the volume.

"Dr. Roman’s Guide to Romance," the narrator said in a deep, authoritative voice that felt completely wrong for this kind of book. "Chapter one. Learning to Love.”

"Love is a beautiful agreement between two souls, and it’s also one of the best things life has to offer," the narrator droned. "Romance is but a small part of the broader picture of love, although many find it to be the most rewarding."

"He's right about that," Octo-Cat said with a happy sigh. “I am a cat forever changed by the love of my darling Grizabella."

I rolled my eyes again. Thank goodness Charles and I weren’t like this.

"Romance is all about celebrating love, and to do that you first need to have love in your life.”

I groaned. "Do you really want to listen to this guy?"

"Ssshhhhhh," Octo-Cat hissed. "This is good stuff here.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and gritted my teeth as the speaker—Dr. Roman himself, it turned out—continued to prattle on about how love was a many splendored thing and other such clichés. Seriously, how was this book a bestseller?

Before long, Nan perked up. "What are you listening to?" she asked.

"Only the single most intelligent human to ever live," Octo-Cat answered even though Nan couldn’t understand him.

I translated this as, “Octo-Cat’s new audiobook.” Injecting as much sarcasm into my tone as I could manage while still paying proper attention to the road, I added, “Dr. Roman’s Guide to Romance. Apparently he’s the single most intelligent human to ever live.”

Unaware of the compliments and insults we were bandying about, Dr. Roman continued, “Unlike love, romance is not ever a noun. It's always meant to be a verb. Romance doesn't just happen. It's something you must work to actively create in your life." He paused to let this great wisdom sink in.

"Can you believe this guy?" I asked quietly, hoping the cat wouldn't overhear. “He doesn’t even have a basic understanding of the parts of speech. How can you believe a word that comes out of his mouth?”

"He's right, actually," Nan said, nodding thoughtfully. "I never thought of it exactly like that, but it's true. Why just last week, Grant and I—"

"Ssshhhhh," Octo-Cat hissed again, and we all fell silent listening to Dr. Roman’s words fill the car.

Was I being unfair to this book, or was I simply cynical about romance? Charles had always been the more romantic of the two of us, and I'd always been more than happy to let him take the lead. Did I owe it to him to try harder?

Ugh.

Whether or not I liked Dr. Roman, the truth was we were all going to be stuck in this car together for quite some time. I could at least listen to what Dr. Roman had to say. Especially considering Nan and Octo-Cat now hung on his every word. Even little Paisley sat with both ears erect as she happily squinted her eyes in that special way Chihuahuas do when they are completely content with life.

I listened without complaint as Dr. Roman delivered his list of seven must-haves for creating romance, and I said nothing when he launched into his guided meditation for romantic mindfulness. But by the time he started in on the aphrodisiac effect of certain foods and beverages, I’d had enough.

“Let’s stop for coffee,” I said, then let out a giant, demonstrative yawn.

“Shhhhhh,” all three of the others hissed at me.

Even though they were talking to me, it was Dr. Roman’s voice that quieted as a ringing sound poured out of the car’s speakers.

Nan pressed a button on the radio and Charles’s voice filled the car. "Hey, how's the drive going?" he asked.

"I hope you don't mind, dear," Nan said, "but I hooked your phone up to the Bluetooth because I knew your fellow would be calling before too long. Looks like I was right.”

I smiled, so incredibly grateful for the distraction I could have cried. "Totally fine," I told both Nan and Charles since it applied to both of the things they’d said. "We’re making good time. How are things there?"

Charles sucked in a sharp breath.

And that was all I needed to know good news wouldn't be coming.

Chapter Nine

"The flock is here," Charles whispered into the phone. “They’re in my front yard. Dozens of them.”

"What?" I shouted, eliciting a fresh string of complaints from the crabby tabby in the back seat. “Why?”

"I don't know. I can't exactly talk to them on my own,” Charles pointed out, and of course he was right.

"Do you want me to turn around? We've only been at it a few hours. I can come back. You don’t have to deal with this on—”

Even before I finished that offer, Octo-Cat flew forward from the back seat, scaring the life out of me. When he landed on my lap, claws and all, I swerved into the next lane. Thank goodness, the road was still mostly empty on this stretch.

"Easy there, girl," Nan said, stroking the dashboard of her car lovingly.

"Is everything okay?" Charles asked, his worry echoing around the car’s cushy interior.

"No, we're fine. But I guess I'm not turning around."

“You better not be," Octo-Cat warned, digging his claws into my thighs once again to emphasize his point.

"Do you want to put me on FaceTime or something?" I offered meekly. “So that I can talk to the seagulls for you?”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s definitely unnerving, but I think they're just keeping an eye on me," he said.

The tap turned on, and the sound of fresh water rushing into his empty coffee pot gave me a wicked craving for my favorite caffeinated beverage. Oh, how I wished I was there with him rather than on this obnoxious road trip.

"They must've followed me home last night," Charles continued. "I'm getting that they don't trust me."

"I don't know much about birds," I admitted as we passed a semi-truck on the left. "They've never been willing to talk to me before now, but my guess is they just want to make sure you don't forget about them." I shrugged even though he couldn't see the gesture.

"Well, it makes me uncomfortable," he informed me. "Whenever I look out the window all their beady eyes snap to me. They’re sizing me up. It's unnerving, really."

"I'm sorry." And I truly was sorry. "I shouldn’t have asked you to—”

"No," he cut me off. "I want to do this for you. For your family. I’m just not sure I totally understand what's expected."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Charles still had more to say.

"I researched case precedents last night before going to bed. You know, just in case those things matter to seagulls, and I did find a few cases that could work. Winning this for the flock should be pretty simple, but whether or not we can win isn’t what concerns me here.”

"It's having the whole flock camping out in your yard," I finished for him.

"Yeah. It doesn't seem right. Why don’t they trust me? What do they expect me to find?”

"You don't think they told us the full truth about the war?" I asked.

"Or the disappearance of the other flock," he confirmed. Coffee now gurgled and brewed on Charles’s side of the conversation.

“Do you think there's something important we’re missing here?” I prompted while my mouth salivated for the hot bitter rush of that coffee.

"I definitely think it's worth checking out,” he agreed. "I know they're just birds, but still I'd like to know the truth."

"I wish I were there to help," I moaned. "It feels wrong to be so far removed from the situation, especially since you wouldn’t even be doing this if it weren’t for me."

I still hadn't told Nan about Bravo’s offer to introduce me to my long-lost bio grandma, so I chose my words carefully while speaking to Charles now. "I'll be back before you have to go to trial."

"These birds are definitely going to keep me on task until then. I honestly worry about what they'll do if they think I'm ignoring their case. It almost feels like they’re some kind of avian mafia here. Ugh. If only there was some way to find that missing flock," he said thoughtfully.

“Actually, there is a way," Octo-Cat piped in from the back seat.

"Hang on," I told Charles. "It seems Octo-Cat has an idea."

"Not an idea," he corrected with a haughty snort. "The solution.”

He wasted no time in continuing, "I don't know all the details—or really any of the details—about this seagull stuff. You know, since somebody didn’t deem this new case important enough to tell her partner about.”

I held my tongue to avoid another pointless argument. But when had there been time to tell him? I was out until all hours working on his honey-do list last night, and today I’d been focused on driving while he filled every spare moment with either talk of Grizabella or lackluster advice from Dr. Roman.

"Anyway, as much as I hate to admit it," Octo-Cat continued. "Our top spy stayed home."

"Our top spy?" I asked. It was rare Octo-Cat admitted that anyone could do anything better than him, especially a task he enjoyed as much as spying.

"Yeah, the raccoon."

"Oh," I mumbled. "That's not a bad idea."

"Of course it's not a bad idea. It came from me."

"What?" Charles asked. "What did he say?"

"Pringle," I explained in one single word.

"What about him?" Charles wanted to know.

"Well, he can talk to the birds for you and he loves gossip. I'm sure you don't even have to ask for his help. You just have to talk about the problem near him and he'll go explore it on his own.”

"Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yeah, I think it's a good idea. Especially if it puts these questions to rest for you."

"Okay," he agreed, taking a slurp of coffee that made me incredibly antsy in my coffeeless state "I'll go over to your place after work and see what I can do.”

"Great. If you want, you can FaceTime me once you’re there. I’ll tell Pringle what we need him to do."

"I love you," Charles said before taking another noisy sip.

I told him I loved him too and said goodbye. When we hung up, Dr. Roman's voice immediately came bursting back through the speakers. No, no more. I needed at least some kind of break from him, so I turned the radio off.

"Hey," Octo-Cat protested.

"Hey yourself," I said. "I just need a minute so I can focus on finding an exit."

“Does this mean you’re finally going to set up my litter box? Because I’ve been holding it, and I hate holding it.”

I refused to dignify that question with a response since I’d already made my position on the travel litter box more than clear. And a few miles later I found an exit that boasted a gas station, if not much else.

Hey, gas station coffee was good enough for me, especially since I didn't know how quickly Nan's car ran through fuel and didn’t want to take any chances there.

“Can you top us off?” I asked Nan after pulling in beside the pump closest to the door. I was out of the car and rushing inside before she could even answer.

A few minutes later, I returned with a steaming Styrofoam cup full of the good stuff clutched greedily in my hands.

"We should stop for some breakfast,” Nan suggested, finishing up at the pump.

"I'm not sure there's anything on this exit."

"Well, something will turn up eventually," she said with a smile, and so we took a twenty-minute detour until at last we found a small diner that looked like it had been converted from a mobile home.

We ordered scrambled eggs and sausage to go, then sat outside with the animals in the parking lot as we tried to enjoy our meal.

"So what's going on with those seagulls Charles was talking about?” Nan asked when we’d both eaten through about half of our containers.

"Oh, they need help with a territory dispute." I tried to wave her off and changed the subject. “How about Dr. Roman, though? Do you really like his guide to romance?” I asked with a giggle.

"It's as good as any other guide out there, I'm sure," she said. "But why are you going out of your way to help these birds now? Couldn't this have waited until you were back from the trip? Is there some kind of deadline?"

"According to their laws, we don’t have much time before a war starts up,” I explained casually. "So I agreed to work on their terms in hopes of preventing that war.”

"But why?" she said, studying me with glistening eyes.

"I..." my words trailed away.

"It's okay, dear. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm a big girl. I can handle it,” Nan said with a half-cocked grin.

"It's just, they said they know where..." I didn't know how to word this, exactly. Nan was my grandmother. And yet I longed to know the woman our family had lost so many years ago. "Well," I started again, taking a different approach. "You know how birds are. They see everything, and they know the lay of the land, and…” I continued to sputter nervously, getting nowhere fast.

"Is this about your other grandmother, dear?" Nan said softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "It's okay if it is."

I nodded but said nothing.

"Well then, we better help these birds because I'd like to meet her, too.”

Chapter Ten

The rest of the day eked by at a snail’s pace. I also felt like an ant who’d had its legs trapped in molasses. Well, whatever kind of insect I’d become, I was moving and moving and yet getting nowhere.

By this point, we’d more than half finished Dr. Roman’s audiobook. Nan had taken over the wheel about an hour ago, but still I couldn’t sleep. Somehow, against all odds, Octo-Cat had also stayed awake this entire time. His eagerness to reach our destination was far past being cute… and dangerously close to the point of me putting him in his carrier just to calm him down and give the rest of us a break.

When my phone rang, I jumped in my seat at the chance to answer it. I’d have liked to read a book or play some games, but I always became carsick when I focused my gaze anywhere but on the road ahead.

“Angie?” Charles said when I forgot to offer a hello.

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. What’s up?” I leaned forward in my seat eager to hear his report.

“I’m just about to leave the firm and head to your place.” He hesitated. “That is, if you still want to speak with Pringle.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I do. How was your day? Better than it started out?”

He hesitated again, sending my worry into high gear. “Kind of. At least the entire flock didn’t follow me to work.”

“But some of them did?” Why had I ever agreed to help these annoying birds? Yes, they had some serious leverage over me, but I hated that they were practically stalking Charles while I was too far to do anything to put a stop to it.

“Yeah. Well, one of them, anyway.”

“That’s probably Bravo. He’s kind of in charge of this whole legal thing.”

“He’s been sitting at my window all day. Watching. Waiting. I don’t like it, Angie.”

I didn’t like it, either, but Charles needed me to remain calm and handle the situation. “Put him on, please.”

“Just a second.”

I listened as Charles wrenched the window open and whistled for the bird to join us.

“You’re on speaker,” Charles informed me a few seconds later.

“Bravo?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice calm and even. Authoritative.

“The one and only,” the seagull confirmed.

Okay, the flock worked according to rules and hierarchies. If I could appeal to that, perhaps I could get him to back off. “Why are you stalking Charles?” I demanded. “You hired us to help, and now you have to trust us.”

“No can do. Alpha has given me express instructions to keep a close eye on everything, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“And I’m asking you very politely not to. Charles will work better if you cut him some slack.” I took a shallow breath, resisting the urge to sigh heavily into the phone.

Unfortunately, Bravo remained steadfast in his refusal. “Alpha’s orders are final. Your mate’s going to have a white shadow until it’s go time.”

A white shadow? I didn’t like the sound of that at all and was starting to understand why Charles was so suspicious of what had led to this whole territory dispute in the first place.

“Okay, well, I tried,” I told the bird, and then, “Charles, take me off speaker.”

“Okay,” he said with a huff. “So, what now?”

“Close the window,” I whispered into the phone. “I don’t want Bravo to hear this next part.”

I waited as the window slammed shut with a thump.

“This is getting weird, right?” Charles whispered back.

“I think it started that way, but it’s definitely weird.” I paused and took a moment to figure out a plan. “I’m going to call you back. Let it go to voicemail. I’m going to leave a message for Pringle. Make sure Bravo’s not around when you let him listen to it.”

“But how can I do either of those things? Getting Pringle to listen to me and keeping Bravo away?”

That was a good question. I ran through my options, silently wondering just how well birds could hear. Would Bravo be able to listen in through a closed window? I didn’t know, but I still had to take a chance with this. After all, the alternative was doing nothing to help poor Charles through this mess.

“Um, I’ll call back twice and leave two separate messages,” I decided. “One to get Pringle inside, and one to tell him what we need. As long as you don’t let Bravo into the house, that should give you the privacy you need. You still have the key I gave you, right?”

“I do,” he answered.

“Good. Head straight to my place. Pringle is probably in one of his treehouses, but he might be off collecting secrets from the neighborhood. Can you call me back when you find him?”

“What about the voicemails you’re planning to leave?” Charles wondered.

“Those are just a fail-safe. Call me, and I’ll make sure to stop whatever I’m doing—be it driving or sleeping or whatever—and I’ll give you my full attention. Hey, do you mind hanging around my house for a while if he’s out?”

I could practically hear the cringe in his voice as he said, “Better your place with one seagull than mine with the whole flock.” I really wished I was there with him, and not just because this road trip was driving me crazy.

“Good point. You know you can stay at my place if you need to.”

“Nah. They’ll just move bases, plus Jacques and Jillianne will be furious if I’m not home by bedtime.” He was right, of course. His two Sphynx cats were even more strangely entitled than Octo-Cat.

“Okay, I’ll call right back,” I promised, hating to let him go but also knowing I needed to move things along here. “Remember not to pick up. Love you. Bye.”

We hung up, and I took a few deep breaths before hitting redial. When his voicemail picked up, I raised my voice just south of a shout. “Pringle! Pringle! Charles is looking for you. Come over and talk to him. I’ve left you a top-secret message that will self-destruct in ten minutes whether or not you listen to it. So hurry up and follow him inside. Further instructions await you there.”

Click.

There. I’d appealed to his sense of drama. He wouldn’t be able to resist that.

I texted Charles between calls: “One down, one to go.”

When my second call was routed to voicemail, I laid out the basics of my plan and how it would involve the nosy trash panda.

“Agent Pringle, thank goodness you’ve accepted our call for help.” I reached deep down and pulled out every spy movie cliche I could think of. The raccoon had once thought of himself as a noble medieval knight, but his predilections tended to change based on whatever TV shows and movies he preferred at the time. Right now, he was on a Tom Cruise/ Arnold Schwarzenegger/ Bruce Willis binge, so spy tropes it was.

“We fear our mission might have been compromised and that our supposed allies aren’t giving us all the information. We’ve got a dirty flock and the impending threat of war. Already one flock has gone AWOL, and we need you to find these key witnesses and extract the true nature of their disappearance.”

As I continued to rattle off everything we knew in the most dramatic way possible, I started simply throwing in the names of popular action flicks. The cornier I could make this, the more our little raccoon spy would like it.

“It’s going to be Sum of All Fears around here if we don’t stop this Lethal Weapon from detonating. I’m counting on you to be The Terminator of these lies before somebody Dies Hard. Are you ready to join us on this Mission Impossible, Agent 007? Good, then await my next call for your assignment.”

I hung up quickly. If either Nan or Octo-Cat was paying attention, it was only a matter of time until one of them burst out laughing and spoiled the ruse. Yes, I knew that last part of my plea had made very little sense, but I also knew it would get the raccoon excited and ready to do whatever it took to solve the case.

Operation Raccoon Spy, here we come!

Chapter Eleven

Charles texted half an hour later to say he couldn’t find Pringle anywhere, but that he’d stay as late as he could without upsetting his two feline overlords back home.

While waiting to see if he would need me, I eventually nodded off.

I didn’t wake up again until the dead of the night.

Nan was wide awake as she took her turn behind the wheel, and she was listening ahead in Dr. Roman’s audiobook while the pets napped curled up together in the back seat. Octo-Cat would not be happy about that.

“Oh, you’re up?” my grandmother asked, turning her head to glance at me briefly as she clicked the stereo off.

I stretched what little I could belted into my seat, then wiped the sleep from my eyes. “Did Charles call?”

“He did, but I let him know you were dead to the world.”

Wow. I really must have been if I hadn’t heard the phone ring.

“Do you want me to take over for a while?” I offered despite still feeling quite sleepy. We could always find some coffee to activate my awakening sequence, if needed.

“I’m fine, dear. I don’t need quite as much sleep as I did when I was young.”

I smiled instead of pointing out that she’d slept clear through most of the day. “Okay, then I guess I’ll try to grab some more rest of my own. Wake me up when you’re ready to switch, okay?”

“Not a problem,” she promised and hit play on the audiobook again.

It only took a couple of minutes for me to drift back into a deep slumber—well, at least deep considering I had to do it while sitting up and buckled in. Driving was just about the most exhausting activity you could do while sitting on your butt the whole time. If I dreamed, it wasn’t something worth remembering because the next thing I knew somebody in the car was screaming.

“Oh my whiskers! I’ve never seen such a beautiful place! We have to go! We have to go!” Octo-Cat crooned as I opened my eyes and blinked hard.

Noticing I was now awake, my cat doubled down. “Angela, tell the old woman to get off at this exit!”

Paisley barked in an extra hyper, extra high pitch, the way she did whenever she was too excited to form actual words.

My head pounded as I tried to figure out where we were and what time it was. The night sky still hung dark above us, the road empty, and yet all of my companions seemed to be wide awake.

“Angela, take the wheel! We’re almost to the exit! We can’t miss it!” my cat continued to caterwaul.

I glanced over to Nan who appeared to be flagging behind the wheel. Her hands hung loosely over the steering column as she drove with her wrists at ten and two.

“Nan!” I cried. “You should have woken me up!”

“Huh? What?” She turned to look at me for just the briefest of moments, but it was enough.

Thump, thump! Thump!

The car jerked off the road and into the ditch at the shoulder.

Paisley let out a panicked yelp.

Octo-Cat hissed.

And I held on for dear life.

Then the airbags deployed, waking up my senses and grounding me in our terrible new reality. We’d crashed!

Nan sobbed beside me. “My poor, poor baby. What have I done to you?” Once again she was talking to her car.

It would be up to me to take stock and make sure nobody was hurt.

“Paisley?” I called, knowing instantly that she was most at risk given her less than five-pound frame.

“That was scary,” she whimpered from behind me. “I fell on the floor, but it only hurt a little.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, then took another deep breath before asking, “Octo-Cat? Are you okay?”

“I am not happy about this turn of events, Angela,” he growled. It wasn’t his usual peeved-off growl, but rather something low, deep, and incredibly intimidating. Oh no. What now?

When I turned around, my neck twinged in pain, but I was able to see that he was still sitting on the seat with his claws sunk deep into the leather upholstery.

Bits of cushion popped through where his claws had snagged the seating. I picked up a blanket from the floor and tossed it over the seat so Nan wouldn’t notice. She was already worked up enough without seeing this particular display.

“I am outraged!” my cat informed me from beneath the blanket before popping his head out a moment later. He left his body covered as he lectured me for this latest indignity. “When I requested we make a pit stop, it was so that we could see the largest aquarium in the state. Not for whatever this was.”

“The largest… in the state? Where are we?” I wondered aloud. I knew we were somewhere between our home in Maine and Grizabella’s in Colorado, but where?

“Michi-bun,” Paisley provided. “At least that’s what Nan said when we passed a big sign a while ago. Welcome to Michi-bun.”

Michigan. That put us a little less than halfway into our journey, which also meant that despite our best attempts, we were making terrible time.

I shot daggers at my cat, realizing that for all the anger he had toward me right now, I had far more reason to be upset with him. “All this screaming and fuss was about an aquarium which wouldn’t even be open at this time of night. Seriously? You have an aquarium back home!”

“It’s not the largest one in the state, though. I want to see this one.”

“Not a chance.” I whipped back to face front. Ouch, my poor neck. “You’ll be lucky if we even still get to see Grizabella at this point.”

“Nooooooooooo!” he screamed, launching himself into my lap, claws still extended. “You can’t do that to me.”

“Ouch. Bad kitty!” I spat as I grabbed him off my lap and returned him to the back seat. My neck twisted in pain.

“Nan,” I nudged, noticing her still hunched over the deployed airbag, stroking the car’s dashboard. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but my poor girl is a wreck.”

“It’ll be okay. This is what insurance is for,” I offered with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “We need to focus on getting some help. Should I look up a tow place on my phone?”

“No,” she said with another sniff and a sob. “I have a friend in the area. She’ll come and get us.”

“Okay, but you should probably call now. We don’t know how much damage has been done to the car or how long it will take to get it road-ready again.”

She shook her head and a fresh rivulet of tears ran down both cheeks. “I’m so sorry about this, dear. I should have asked you to take over, but I didn’t think I was that tired.”

“It’s okay. Really. Accidents happen,” I said, although I couldn’t ever remember when one had happened to me. “We’re all fine. That’s what counts.”

Nan unbuckled her seatbelt and got out to observe the damage.

I followed suit, my feet sinking into the spring mud with a squelching sound.

“I don’t know what happened,” she muttered, staring at the immobilized vehicle with a dumbfounded expression. “I wasn’t even that tired. I—”

What had happened couldn’t be changed. Now it was up to me to keep Nan from descending into a vicious spiral of guilt.

“You don’t have to explain,” I assured her, coming to stand at her side. “I understand, and it’s going to be okay. But we need somebody to come get us. Here. Give me your phone.”

She reached into her front pocket and took it out, then handed it over to me.

“Thank you. Now what’s the name of your friend who’s going to come get us?”

“Melissa,” she said with a small sigh. “She usually goes to sleep pretty early, but she gave me her night owl husband’s number for emergencies.”

“Well, I’d definitely say this qualifies.” I thumbed through the contacts until I found Melissa and then Melissa’s Husband.

I’d wait until later to ask Nan why she had the number of some guy way out in Michigan as an emergency contact. Because whatever her reason for taking such a strange precaution, she’d definitely been right to do it.

Chapter Twelve

Nan’s friend appeared about forty minutes later with her whole family in tow. “Climb in,” she said, pointing to the cluttered back rows of the giant SUV. “Sorry about the mess.”

I got in beside a little girl who was fast asleep with a glistening bead of drool dribbling off one pouty lip.

“Couldn’t leave her at home,” Melissa said, watching me while Nan stood with Melissa’s husband inspecting the damage from the accident. “Nan called me, but I don’t actually drive, so we all had to come.”

“I’m not getting in there. It smells like dog,” Octo-Cat informed me from outside. His nose wrinkled in disgust, and once again, I was more than a little relieved that other people couldn’t understand him.

I sighed instead of answering. He knew I couldn’t talk to him in front of people who didn’t know my secret, but that never stopped him from complaining, endlessly complaining.

“Aren’t you worried your cat will run away?” Melissa asked, glancing from him to me with a worried expression. Both tall and thick, she was a big woman, but the biggest part of her was the earnest smile she wore as she greeted me.

“He’ll be fine,” I said for both of them.

That was when Paisley ran over, tail wagging wildly, to say hello to the new arrivals.

“Oh my gosh!” Melissa cried in such a high-pitched voice it made my ears rings. “Who is this sweet angel baby?”

“That’s Nan’s dog, Paisley,” I supplied.

“Well, of course it is.” Melissa scooped the happy Chihuahua up into her arms and let Paisley lick her face. I noticed that her baggy T-shirt read Crazy Chihuahua Lady in big blocky letters. No wonder she and Nan were friends.

“Oh, you are the sweetiest-beatiest,” she squealed. Both she and Paisley seemed to shake with happiness. Was this woman so obsessed with Chihuahuas that she had even started to act like them? Funny.

“I like her,” Paisley said with a happy bark.

“She looks just like my Sky Princess,” Melissa informed me with that ever-present smile. “You’ll meet her when we take you back to our place for a rest while your car is being worked on. See…” She motioned toward the banged-up sports car. “This is why I don’t drive.”

Nan returned with Melissa’s husband, and they climbed into the SUV.

“C’mon, Octo-Cat,” I called and clicked my tongue.

Thankfully, he decided it was better to listen to me than to be left alone on the side of the road and complied.

Melissa leaned forward from the back row and bumped my shoulder. “Wow, he really listens. Almost like a dog.”

“A dog!?” Octo-Cat shrieked. “That’s it. Let me out of here. I don’t want to spend another second with this crazy woman.”

“Hush. It’s fine,” I murmured, the weight of my fatigue weighing heavily now that I was sitting back down.

Melissa gasped but said nothing for the rest of the drive back to her home more than half an hour away.

When we arrived, we were greeted by the loudest chorus of barking I’d ever heard in my life. A moment later, five dogs ran outside to say hello.

“You have five dogs now?” Nan asked with a chuckle, scratching some kind of mixed breed with multi-color eyes behind the ears.

“Seven, actually,” Melissa corrected. “The Chihuahuas are inside because they’re not strong enough to push through the dog door on their own.”

“She’s insane,” Octo-Cat choked out. “Certifiably insane. I refuse to step paw into that house.”

“It’s already the middle of the night,” Nan said with a sigh. “I do appreciate you coming to our rescue, but I hope we don’t have to wait until morning to get someone to look at the car.”

“C’mon, there’s at least twenty mechanics within ten miles of us. I’m sure someone will be open and able to take us,” Melissa’s husband said after he’d returned from taking his daughter to bed.

“I’ll be back,” Nan told me before climbing back into the front seat of the enormous SUV and disappearing.

“So…” Melissa said, her eyes wide and mischievous. “You’re Nan’s granddaughter, right?”

Leave it to Nan not to properly introduce us. “That’s me. My name’s Angie.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper as we climbed the twisty steps toward the front door. “Are you the one who can… you know? Talk to… well, you know?”

Anger flared in my chest, but I did my best to swallow it back down. Was Nan seriously entrusting random people across the country with my biggest secret? It seemed like she wasn’t even all that close with Melissa, given how surprised Melissa had been to meet Paisley and how Nan couldn’t even remember exactly how many dogs these people had.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Melissa said with a conspiratorial grin. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I would never tell anyone. Well, except for my husband and daughter, of course. I tell them everything.”

Great. So at least three other people knew, and one of them was just a kid. First or second grade, tops. Kids had no filters. Not exactly the best people to trust with secrets.

Melissa flung the door open with a “ta-da,” and I glanced into the dark house, expecting to see her dogs lined up to greet me.

What I actually saw was far, far worse…

Octo-Cat must have crept up the stairs behind us because he now let out a mighty growl and jumped—literally jumped—into a thin tree that lined the front stairs.

“It’s my worst nightmare come to life,” he howled.

I wanted to tell him that we wouldn’t be here long, that he had nothing to worry about, but I honestly didn’t know how badly busted Nan’s car was or whether Melissa’s husband was right about being able to find a mechanic at this hour. So instead I left him clinging to the tree as Paisley and I followed Melissa into the house and shut the door behind us.

Hopefully his worst nightmare wouldn’t also prove to be mine.

Chapter Thirteen

“What are you doing in my houssssse?” hissed a Maine Coon cat, who looked a lot like Octo-Cat except he was at least twice as big, twice as fluffy, and twice as intimidating.

After demanding I explain my presence, he marched straight up to Paisley and batted her in the face. He didn’t growl or take out his claws, but the maneuver still felt extremely aggressive.

“Ttccch!” Melissa said, and the cat skittered away, choosing a place midway up the staircase to keep an eye on us.

“This is my house. I am the king!” the cat said, wagging his tail wildly.

I watched him wearily, worried he might make another move to dominate Paisley if we weren’t careful. Thank goodness, Octo-Cat had chosen to stay outside. This was one fight I knew he wouldn’t be able to win.

“I decide who comes and goes, and I did not approve your entry,” he meowed. “If you want to stay, you must give me a treat stick.”

“Oh my gosh,” Melissa said with a gasp, raising a hand to her heart. “He’s talking to you, isn’t he? Merlin’s talking, and you’re understanding! What is he saying? What does he want?”

I was hesitant to admit that her cat was coming off like a major jerk, but I was even more hesitant to talk about this at all. This person was still little more than a stranger to me, and yet she knew the most intimate, private thing about me. This wasn’t right.

“Well?” Melissa asked with that wide smile of hers.

I sighed. “He wants a treat stick.”

She chuckled. “Well, of course he does. Come with me, and I’ll show you the procedure.”

She then walked me through the exact way Merlin preferred to be offered his special treat sticks, including where to stand when I was opening it, how fast to walk toward the cat tower where he preferred to take the treat, and precisely how long to hold it in my hand before dropping it for him to do the rest of the work.

Man, for not being able to speak to his humans, this Merlin sure knew how to communicate his needs.

“I’m going to let the dogs in now, okay?” Melissa announced, once we’d completed the offering to her cat.

I hadn’t realized they weren’t with us, but the second she opened the sliding glass door, I realized just how quiet the house had been without them.

Paisley immediately rolled onto her back and let the others sniff her as she wagged and wiggled. A fat corgi sniffed her so vigorously that he flipped her over by accident.

“This is great,” Nan’s little dog cried. “I’ve always wanted to go to doggie daycare.”

I sighed. Well, seeing as my secret was out anyway, I may as well talk back to her. “It’s not daycare. It’s just—”

Paisley jumped to her feet with a bark so loud, I took a step back in shock. “It’s the dog from the mirror! Bark, bark, bark!”

Sure enough, a nearly identical mostly black tricolor Chihuahua came galloping over. She barked once and then began to kick up her back legs in a comical display of scratching and snuffling that was most likely meant to be intimidating.

“No, you’re the dog from the mirror!” she barked at Paisley.

“Sky Princess,” Melissa scolded. “Come here.”

The little dog whined and struggled for a moment before settling into her human’s arms.

“Pick me up! Pick me up!” Paisley begged, standing on her hind legs and pawing me while she whimpered.

The moment I did, both dogs resumed barking and accusing each other of being mirror dogs again.

“Oh, boy. It’s a good thing my daughter is such a deep sleeper, otherwise I’d be afraid they’d wake her up,” Melissa said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s way past bedtime for this crew, too. Let me tuck them into their crates, and then we should have some peace and quiet.”

Once that was done, we settled in across from each other at the kitchen table. Melissa offered me a cold can of Diet Coke from the fridge, which I gratefully accepted.

“So how are things with you?” she asked as if we were old friends. “I can’t imagine it’s easy living with someone as colorful as your nan.”

I chuckled at this. Even though her prying made me uncomfortable, it didn’t seem nice to respond by saying that I couldn’t imagine living with a small zoo in my house the way she did.

Just then, a loud thump whomped into the window, and I jumped in my seat. “What was that? I thought you put all the dogs to bed?”

Melissa pushed her chair out behind her and stomped over to the kitchen window. “Seriously, dude! At this time?” she practically shouted. Looked like her cat wasn’t the only one around here who’d gone crazy.

She groaned and returned to me with a bemused expression. “That was Murder Robin,” she explained as if that clarified everything. It didn’t.

I stopped myself before taking another sip from my soda, just in case she was about to tell me something so shocking I wouldn’t be able to swallow properly.

Finally, she offered more. “He’s been coming here every spring and summer for the last several years. He spends all day thumping up against our kitchen windows, and all night hurling himself at our bedroom window.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

She shrugged. “Birds are weird. You’d think he’d just find somewhere new to roost, but you know how territorial birds can get.”

I nodded as I considered this. So, this crazy bird would rather sustain an injury by fighting a battle there was no way he could win than to… simply migrate into a new home?

That was weird, but it also made me think.

If birds were this crazy territorial, then why would the flock that previously held the Dewdrop Springs territory back home just up and disappear? Alpha, Bravo, and the others had seemed totally unbothered by the fact that they’d gone, but it wasn’t normal for birds to leave their homes without a very good reason. And judging by Murder Robin’s actions, “very good” was definitely relative.

This suggested that Charles’s suspicion was right. Something fishy was going on with the seagulls. Hopefully Pringle could uncover the truth before time ran out.

Now all we needed to do was find him and convince him to help…

Chapter Fourteen

About an hour and a half later, Nan returned from the mechanic with Melissa’s husband in tow.

“They fixed my girl up as best they could,” she said with a far-off glance that may or may not have hid tears threatening to spill. “One of the tires blew out, but the engine is fine. They swapped it out and said I’ll have to get the upholstery in the back seat fixed once we’re back home again.”

“That’s good, right?” I asked, more than ready to be on our way. Melissa was nice and all, but she was Nan’s friend—not mine. Besides, I was worried about Octo-Cat skulking off by himself in the unfamiliar woods outside.

“It’ll drive fine,” she said with a dejected sigh. I knew how much that little sports coupe meant to her, but it would be completely fixed soon enough. Besides, maybe now she’d agree to stop off at a hotel so we could both rest properly between shifts.

“Then let’s go. I’m wide awake now.” I smiled back at Melissa, hoping she wouldn’t find my eagerness to get back on the road offensive. “Thanks so much for your hospitality and for the company.”

She gave me a quick hug, which surprised me as I was not exactly the hugging strangers type. “I’m so jealous of you,” she whispered into my ear. “What you can do is so cool. I’d love to talk to you about it more sometime.”

And then pulling away, she finished at full volume, “Nan knows where to find me online. Oh, before you go, let me load you up with some treats for you and the pets.”

And about twenty minutes later, we were back on the expressway.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just head home?” I asked as I took a swig from one of the cold brew coffees Melissa had sent with us. “We’ve been through a lot already and we’re still only half-way there.”

“You may think you’ve been through a lot,” Octo-Cat shouted. “But you didn’t have to wait around outside back there. Consider yourself lucky that the other guy wasn’t an outdoors cat, otherwise things would have gotten really ugly.”

“Stop complaining and have a treat stick,” I said with a smirk. “Um, can you toss him one, Nan?”

Unsurprisingly, Octo-Cat enjoyed this strange Slim Jim like treat just as much as Melissa’s cat Merlin had. And it took him a bit longer to eat this thing than one of his smaller treats, which meant it gave us a few minutes of blessed silence every time we tossed him a new one. Honestly, this discovery alone was worth the unplanned detour.

“We may as well keep going, seeing as we have a long drive ahead of us either way,” Nan said after unwrapping the kitty treat stick and chucking it into the back seat.

“Get some sleep if you can,” I told her, setting the bottle of coffee into the cup holder and returning both hands to the wheel. “I’m wide awake for now, but I promise I’ll get you up the moment I feel too tired to keep going. We can decide then if you’re going to take over or if we should stop and rest for a while.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed, then leaned her seat back as far as it would go and left me to my own thoughts.

I had enough to think about to keep myself occupied for a while. Not only was there the seagulls’ original case but also the mystery of what had happened to that other flock. And we still needed to find Pringle and convince him to spy on our behalf.

On an unrelated note, Nan and I needed to have a very long talk about her revealing my ability to talk with animals to anyone really, but especially to strangers over the Internet. I shuddered to think of the dangers her loose lips could mean for me in the future. Sometimes my octogenarian grandmother acted like a little kid, I swear.

How could she not know that random people on the Internet weren’t to be trusted with the intimate details of our lives?

Yes, we’d gotten lucky this time, seeing as her friends in Michigan had proven to be helpful—and while a little animal-crazy, at least they weren’t full-on psychopaths.

But how many others had she also told?

As much as I wanted to jump into this topic with Nan right now, I also knew it would be better to wait until we’d finished our trip and were back home. We already had one accident under our belts, and I wasn’t eager to add another.

Because Nan had already hooked my phone to the Bluetooth in her car, I was easily able to pull up my favorite 80s love ballads playlist and send it piping through the speakers. The emotional, up-tempo songs kept me company while the others slept in bursts and fits, each occasionally waking up to chat with me for a few minutes before drifting back to the sandman.

When the sound of my phone ringing drowned out the music a couple of hours later, I was so surprised I almost didn’t realize what was happening.

Nan snorted in her sleep, leaned forward to press a button on the stereo, and then settled back in her seat.

“Hello? Angie?” Charles’s voice called out, unsure.

“Yes, it’s me. Hi!” I tightened both hands on the wheel.

“It’s not too early. Is it?”

“No, I’ve been up for hours.” I considered telling him about our accident and the detour that had followed, but I didn’t want to worry him when there was nothing he could do from back in Maine. I’d catch him up on our random Midwest adventure later. We had enough to focus on right now as it was.

Charles let out a soft sigh. “Good. Well, I decided to wake up early and swing by your house before heading to the firm, and it’s a good thing I did, because I found Pringle.”

My heart sped up a little at this announcement. At least one thing was now going our way. “You found him? Did he listen to my message? Is he there now?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Charles responded with a laugh that made me yearn for him. It was strange how someone I hadn’t even known about a year ago had now become such an integral part of my world. “Do you want to talk with him?”

“Yes, but hang on. I’m going to pull over to the side of the road. Can you wait a few minutes then call me back on FaceTime?” It was always easiest to talk to animals if I could also see them, and I definitely needed every advantage I could get when it came to negotiating with the greedy trickster of a raccoon.

Yes, we needed his help, but I also knew that it would come with a price. His help always came with a price, which is why he had two custom treehouses, two big-screen televisions, two rapid-firing Nerf guns—one of which was named Carla—and countless other doubles of the types of belongings you would never think a raccoon even needed in the first place.

He had two of practically everything because, in Pringle’s mind, if it was worth doing, then it was worth overdoing. I was definitely thankful he and Nan couldn’t speak directly to each other, at least not without looping me in as a translator. Together, they’d not only live the most charmed, extra existence possible, but they’d also blab my secrets to the whole entire world…

That is if they hadn’t done so already. And that was a massive if.

My stomach churned at the memory of how cavalier Melissa had been in discussing facts she shouldn’t have even been privy to. One thing at a time, I reminded myself and let out a ragged breath.

We hadn’t even made it to Colorado yet, and already I couldn’t wait to be back home.

Chapter Fifteen

I had to wait a couple minutes for Charles’s return call after pulling over to the shoulder of the highway. Nan woke up and offered to take the wheel, but I figured it would be best to have this call while fully stopped. I’d have hated for her to get distracted and crash the car a second time.

When at last he called again, Charles seemed to be out of breath. “Sorry… for the… wait,” he said between gasps for air. His face was red from exertion and he wore a pained expression.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I tried to keep the worry from my features. After all, he could see me, too.

“Yeah, it is now. That bird caught up with me, and I had to fight him off with a broom.” The redness began to fade from his face and he smiled, but I still had concerns.

“What?” I shouted.

“Eck, too loud!” Octo-Cat moaned behind me, but I pointedly ignored him.

“He tried getting in through the pet door, but not to worry. I got him back out again.”

I was most definitely worried but also knew I needed to speak with Pringle before he grew impatient and scampered off to do something else. If he got away now, who knew when we’d be able to find him again? Charles was already working at a disadvantage not being able to speak to the raccoon or seagulls directly, after all.

“If you’re sure you’re okay,” I said with a frown, and then, “Hand the phone to Pringle. He’ll know what to do.”

The camera maneuvered quickly, showing me an impromptu tour of my own living room from odd angles. A few seconds later, a masked face with beady eyes filled the screen.

“Commander, that you?” he asked with a voice that sounded more 1940s gangster than it did spy operative. My gimmicky presentation had clearly resonated with him, which meant it would be far easier to get him to follow orders.

“Affirmative.” I leveled my eyes and pushed my mouth into a straight serious line.

“I got your message before it could self-destruct,” he said in a garbled whisper, then glanced to both sides before turning back to me. “You said you had an assignment for me?”

“10-4.” I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded right. “Uh, are you ready to hear the details?”

Pringle winked. “Darling, I was born ready… Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me!”

Drats. That was the one downside of FaceTime. I couldn’t keep playing this ridiculous role while also keeping a straight face. “Permission to speak plainly?” I asked in a desperate ploy to keep us on task, then held my breath as I waited for him to acknowledge my request.

The raccoon sighed, then nodded. “Granted.”

“We need your help finding out what happened to that missing flock.”

A slow, wicked smile stretched across the raccoon’s face. “So I hear. I can help, but it’ll cost you.”

Of course it would. Pringle had never done something out of the goodness of his heart. Not once. But at least he was relatively easy to convince if the price was right.

“Fine,” I said, but I wasn’t in much of a place to negotiate with him from the side of the road, mid-trip. “We’ll figure out your payment when I get back. Okay?”

He jerked his head sharply to the side and thrust his nose into the air. “Not okay. If you want my help, we make our contract now.”

I sighed and rubbed at the bridge of my nose. “What do you want?”

Again he smiled wickedly. “Actually, I was hoping for—”

“Wait!” Charles interjected and then presumably foisted his phone from the raccoon’s grasp because a moment later his face filled the screen. “He’s asking for payment, right?”

Whether he figured this out from my end of the conversation, our previous dealings with Pringle, or both, Charles clearly understood that I was in the midst of negotiating.

“Yup. Got any ideas?” I sure hoped he did because I had nothing.

Pringle’s fingers writhed in front of the screen and he shouted, “I already know what I want. Give it back!”

Charles, of course, didn’t know what he was saying, and even if he had, probably wouldn’t have agreed to it, anyway. He rose to his feet, out of reach of the raccoon, and continued, “The seagulls offered to arrange something as a thank-you. Remember?”

Oh, that was right! Seeing as neither Charles nor I were even remotely interested in whatever dumpster fire the birds gifted us, it made sense to offer it to Pringle. It might just save us from having to agree to something pricey that a raccoon had no business ever owning, like a motorcycle or a robot. And given his odd predilection for doubling up whenever possible, he’d likely demand two, if given the chance.

“Good idea,” I said with a smile. I loved how my boyfriend not only accepted my strange ability but was a true champ at rolling with the punches. “Give the phone back to him now.”

Pringle appeared a few seconds later with a huff.

“Now as I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted…” He paused and glanced up with a scowl—at Charles, I guessed.

“Hold it right there,” I said before he could continue, then waited for him to clamp his mouth shut to deliver my offer. “A secret spy mission calls for something extra valuable. Wouldn’t you say?”

I had his attention now.

“Go on.” The words rolled out smooth and glib.

“We’ve been promised a secret treasure.” I widened my eyes to punctuate this revelation.

“A secret treasure. Interesting.” Pringle rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What is it?”

“Nobody knows. That’s what makes it so exciting.”

The raccoon narrowed his eyes at me. “Hey, you’re not trying to pull one over on me, are you?”

I shook my head adamantly. “No, of course not!”

“Hmmm...” Pringle rubbed at his chin some more. His lips began to move as he mouthed words, but no sound came out. Finally he smiled and said, “Okay, sold.”

“Excellent.”

He switched from business mode to action mode so quickly, the change was almost visible on his face. “Now where can I find that flock?”

I filled him in on all the details—or at least as many as I could without losing his attention—and suggested he start by heading over to Dewdrop Springs. “I’m on it,” Pringle promised before dropping the phone to the ground and scampering off.

Crash! The sound of the phone colliding with the hardwood floorboards sounded like a peal of thunder on my end of the call.

“My phone!” Charles cried from his side.

I couldn’t help but laugh as he retrieved the fallen gadget and searched it for any signs of damage.

“Not funny,” he said but laughed along with me. “I sure do miss you. Have a great time, but hurry home, okay?”

I agreed, and we said goodbye. A huge part of me wished I’d never agreed to this trip in the first place. But I saw Charles live and in person several times each week. Octo-Cat only ever got to speak with his girlfriend over the Internet. They needed this trip to keep their relationship strong. As obnoxious as my cat had been this entire trip, at least he was happy. That made my short-term discomfort worth it, especially if the two cats had a great time this week.

“I’ll need a payment, too, and you can’t trick me like you did the raccoon,” Octo-Cat informed me from his place in the torn-up back seat, proving that he couldn’t go longer than a few minutes without complaining about or demanding something.

I didn’t turn to look at him, because I knew it would send a new pain twinging down my neck. Stupid car accident. Maybe Grizabella’s human could recommend a good chiropractor while we were in Colorado because I needed to do something to treat this pain, and I really didn’t want to have to endure another long drive and a whole week of waiting before getting it.

“I’m not paying you anything,” I muttered and stretched my arms out in front of me with a yawn.

He tsked and declared, “Ah, ah, ah. Finder’s fee. It was my idea to bring him in, wasn’t it?”

Darn it. I really couldn’t argue with him on that one.

Chapter Sixteen

Somewhere amid the rolling hills of Iowa, we finally settled into our drive. In fact, I didn’t even argue when Octo-Cat asked to listen to his audiobook a second time.

“I just want to make sure I’m one hundred percent prepared to woo and wow my love, Grizabella,” he explained with a contented sigh.

And it could have been a byproduct of just how boring it was to drive on the expressway for thirty-plus hours at a stretch, but the things Dr. Roman was saying actually started to make sense the second time around.

Romance is a verb because it requires action.

On the surface level, Charles battling the seagulls on my behalf wasn’t exactly romantic. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was the best gift he’d ever given me. In just about a week’s time, I could be standing face to face with my long-lost biological grandmother, and it would be because Charles had stepped up to help.

I owed him one heck of a souvenir from Boulder, although I already knew nothing could come close to what he’d already freely offered me and my family.

“Nan,” I asked after internally debating whether I should broach this topic at all. Ultimately, I knew it would eat at my insides until I finally let it out. “Are you sure you’re okay with me reaching out to my other grandmother?”

She was the one driving now, and as much as I didn’t want to upset her by talking about difficult topics, I just couldn’t get this particular one off my mind. If anyone could understand the need to let it all out, it was my nan. She had a habit of letting it all hang out—for better or for worse—and her choosing to share my secret with her online friends was even more proof of that. Still, as angry as I was with her for that, I would never voluntarily hurt her feelings. I needed to know I had her blessing for whatever happened next with my bio grandma. I needed to hear her say it was okay and to believe her when she said it.

Nan clenched the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Not a good sign. “It was wrong of me to keep her from you for this long. I just hope you and your mother can one day forgive me for that.”

“We already have,” I promised, placing a hand on her shoulder so she could feel all the love I had for her, still and always.

She sighed and adjusted her grip on the wheel, returning her knuckles to their usual pale flesh color. “You, maybe. But it will take your mother a bit longer, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I insisted, my voice strong and sure.

“No,” Nan snapped, which startled me.

“No?”

“She’s right to be angry. In fact, I’m surprised you aren’t more upset with me, dear.”

“You did a bad thing, but you did it for the right reasons.” The truth was I just didn’t have it in me to be angry with her. At least not for the long term. I’d already worked through all those feelings and was ready to move forward. Nan, however, seemed to carry a heavy burden of guilt that had only gotten heavier as the years passed.

“Maybe at first,” she agreed, tightening her grip on the wheel once more, “but I acted selfishly all the same. When she came searching for Laura in New York and your grandfather and I chose to run away rather than meet her face-to-face.”

“But how could you know what she wanted? Or whether she’d press charges? Heck, even why Grandpa McAllister lied to you in the first place?”

I still remembered that autumn evening when Pringle had offered the stolen letter that revealed Nan wasn’t my grandmother by blood. She’d been tricked into taking my mother at her oldest and best friend’s request. Once I learned about this, Charles and I tried to track the old man down, but it was too late. He’d already passed, leaving the reason behind his actions a mystery that only the wronged mother—my real grandmother—could illuminate for us.

While terrible, none of these revelations made me love Nan any less. She’d raised me. She’d given me nearly thirty years of true unconditional love, had always been my biggest support and my closest friend. Maybe our family started as a lie, but it had grown into something much more.

I longed to meet the missing woman who shared my DNA, to give her some kind of closure and offer back a small part of what had been stolen from her, but not if it hurt the one person who mattered most in my world—Nan.

“I didn’t know,” she said hardly above a whisper. “But I also didn’t try very hard to find out. I fell in love with your mother from day one, and that was that. I would have done anything to keep her with us.”

“We’ll find out soon. Bravo will make sure of it. He says he’s been following her for even longer than he’s been following me, and he’s had his eyes on me ever since I first met Octo-Cat. When he leads us to her, we can ask why William would have done what he did. I’m sure he had his reasons, whatever they were.”

Nan shrugged, but the tension in her form remained. “I accept whatever happens next, and I’ll support you and your mother as you repair your family.”

“She can’t replace you. That’s not why we want to meet her.”

“I know.” Nan flashed me a sad smile, then returned her focus to the road. How I wished I could hug her right now, but my words would have to be enough until we made our next pit stop.

“I love y—”

“I’ve gotta make!” Octo-Cat yowled at the top of his lungs, completely ruining the emotional, heartfelt moment. “I’ve gotta make! Pull over, pull over! I need my litter box, and I need it now.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Leave it to the cat to make everything about himself every second of every day. “Nan, can you stop?”

She chuckled. “I may not know what he’s saying, but I can definitely tell it’s urgent.” She changed lanes and pulled to the shoulder without delay.

“Do you need the pee pad?” I asked as I unbuckled myself.

“No, I need my litter box,” he insisted, his voice cold with fury. “And if you don’t give it to me, I’ll go right here in the car, and you’ll have to smell it the rest of the trip.”

Wonderful. While I normally wasn’t one to negotiate with terrorists, Nan’s poor car had already been through enough.

I was also emotionally drained from the tender conversation we’d just had.

So I gritted my teeth and set up Octo-Cat’s box with a thin layer of litter. We could toss the soiled bit at the next rest stop and pick up a fresh bag once we reached Colorado if needed.

At least we were more than three-quarters of the way there. Then again, we were only three-quarters of the way there! We still had several more hours to go, even though it felt like it had been at least a week since we set off yesterday morning. Seriously, we hadn’t even reached our destination, and already I’d had more than enough of this road trip.

Admittedly, he’d come a long way since our first couple of drives together. He could even handle the trip without being dosed with sleepy medicine. Those things helped, but being locked in a tin can with him for hours on end would never be pleasant, no matter what precautions we made.

All this meant that next time Octo-Cat wanted to see Grizabella, she could come to us. And if he wanted to go anywhere else, we’d be flying—and that was that.

Chapter Seventeen

I slipped into the driver’s seat for a couple quick hours, then Nan got behind the wheel again as we made our final approach into Boulder.

Charles texted a few times to check in on us and give me updates about his day. Basically Bravo continued to be glued to his side no matter where he went, and Pringle hadn’t yet returned from his reconnaissance mission. I didn’t particularly like either of these facts, but I also couldn’t say I was surprised. At least I’d finally be in a stationary location and easier for him to reach if he needed my help.

We were so close now, and I for one couldn’t wait to get out of the moving death box that I had called home for the last two days. Yes, our accident, while minor, had definitely riled me up.

And I wasn’t the only one facing newfound anxieties…

Once we’d reached the city proper, Octo-Cat began hissing and panting in the back seat. His tongue lolled right out of his mouth as he struggled to take short, shallow breaths.

“Oh, goodie!” Paisley squealed with delight. “Octavius is pretending to be a dog. Look at me! I can show you how, big brother. Heh. Heh. Heh.”

I glanced over and found that her small pink tongue was now also lolling from her mouth as her whole body wriggled with excitement.

Octo-Cat, on the other hand, looked like he was going to be sick.

“Paisley, give him some space,” I instructed.

The little dog moved to the other side of the bench seat and quirked her head. “Why? Is something wrong with him, Mommy?”

“Can’t…” the tabby gasped dramatically. “Breathe…”

I pushed my seat back as far as it would go, turned on my side, and pulled Octo-Cat to my chest. Holding on tight, I righted the seat again and set him carefully on my lap.

“Do we need to stop?” I asked, watching him closely as he continued to wheeze and gasp.

“N-n-no. Just… Nerv… ous.”

“He’s got the love butterflies!” Paisley announced with a bark. “Just like the romance doctor said!”

I scratched Octo-Cat behind his ears, feeling fondness for him swell in my chest. He didn’t often show his vulnerabilities, but whenever he did, I loved him all the better for it.

“Is this true? Do you have the love butterflies?” While not exactly how Dr. Roman had described that jittery feeling associated with romantic love, it was how we had translated the content for Paisley. She’d immediately understood and explained that she felt love butterflies every single second she was near me or Nan or Octo-Cat. Our little love bug.

Octo-Cat simply nodded in response to my question.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I assured the lovesick cat now. “Grizabella already adores you. And you’ve put in so much extra work listening to Dr. Roman’s book, making that huge list of everything you needed to show her the perfect vacation, plus I happen to know for a fact that nobody can love her like you can.”

He closed his eyes and pushed his ears back against his head. He took a few moments to steady his breathing, then opened his bright eyes again and asked, “Are you sure? Grizabella is so glamorous, and I’m just a normal cat. I even think I gained a few ounces since our last meeting. Now I’m just a stupid flabby tabby.”

I wanted to laugh at the rhyme—especially since I often called him crabby tabby behind his back—but I controlled myself as I continued to stroke his soft fur. Because of his added anxiety, he’d begun shedding like crazy, and a little storm cloud of loose hair hovered over us.

“Grizabella chose you for your heart. Plus I may be biased here, but I think you’re the best cat in the whole entire world.”

He looked up at me, his amber eyes wide and glistening. “But am I the best cat who’s ever lived?” he asked seriously.

“Y-yes?”

“Are you sure?”

He caught me off guard, but I recovered nicely, smiling as I assured, “Positive, and I know Grizabella would agree.”

Octo-Cat sat up in my lap, his breathing now fully back to normal and his tongue safely tucked inside his mouth. “You packed my bowties, right? I want to wear the blue to match my lady love’s eyes.”

“I have them both right here in my purse. Would you like me to help you put the blue one on now?”

“Yes, please.”

Wow, he almost never said please and usually only said thank you sarcastically. Maybe he was practicing good manners on me so that he’d be ready to play the perfect gentleman for Grizabella. Or maybe he simply realized how much I did for him and how grateful he was to have me in his life.

Okay, yeah, it was definitely the first thing, but still.

I fished the silky blue bowtie out of my purse and fastened it around his neck. Even I had to admit that he looked incredibly handsome in this get-up.

“You look all grown up, Octavius,” Paisley said, when Octo-Cat leaped into the backseat to rejoin her.

“I am all grown up. And so are you.” He sneered, then broke into a good-natured smile. “But I know what you meant. Thank you.”

“Grizzly-bella is going to give you soooo many face licks,” Paisley promised with a wink. “She won’t be able to keep her paws off you, you hunka-hunka burning love!”

Octo-Cat hung his head and chuckled, then whipped it back and let out a full-bellied laugh.

I translated for Nan, and then we joined in the laughter, too.

The things that came out of these animals’ mouths sometimes! I wouldn’t change either of them for the world. No, not even Octo-Cat and his incessant complaining. Changing that would be changing him, and I was a firm believer that we always wound up with the people and animals we needed to have in our lives.

Just like Octo-Cat and Grizabella had met and fallen in love on that one strange train trip that got neither of us to our intended destination. But they had found each other.

And now months later, the feline lovers would have their first romantic trip together. What a world.

During this whole exchange, Nan had doggedly pressed on toward our destination. And now the busy commercial district gave way to a quieter suburban street. The houses here were much more modern looking than the giant manors back home, but they had been well kept and boasted tidy lawns and colorful flowerbeds. It felt like the kind of place where you could raise a family and raise them well. Even though I would forever be a Maine girl, I instantly liked Colorado. And we hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS announced as we pulled up outside a brick split-level with red shutters and a white picket fence.

Christine came out to meet us while Grizabella waited in the bay window that overlooked the yard. “Welcome, welcome!” she called, saddling first Nan and then me with a gigantic warm hug.

“Grizz has been so excited all day,” she said, beaming at us as if we were all long lost friends reuniting for the first time in ages. “I couldn’t tear her away from that window, and I tried!”

“That’s sweet,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s almost like she knew we were coming, huh?”

Christine’s brown scrunched. “Well, of course she knew you were coming. You told Octavius and he told her.”

“I don’t get what you—”

“Oh, no need to play coy with me.” She waved her hand dismissively as if I were the one speaking out of turn. “Your nan told me all about how you’re the modern-day Doctor Dolittle. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Nan did what? And here I’d naively assumed she’d told her friends in Michigan as a one-off thing. Looked like we’d be having our big conversation much sooner than I’d originally planned.

Chapter Eighteen

Octo-Cat ran straight to the front door, plopped his butt on the welcome mat, and waited for the humans to be done with their requisite greetings. His impatience provided a good excuse for me to get away from Christine and her desire to talk about my not-so-secret ability.

I charged ahead. She, Nan, and Paisley joined me on the porch, and then Christine pushed the door open.

Octo-Cat raced inside like a shot.

There, on the other side of the threshold, sat his lady love, a beautiful Himalayan wearing a Swarovski crystal encrusted collar and sporting a perfectly groomed coat. Her sparkling blue eyes matched Octo-Cat’s bowtie perfectly, and despite the difference in their pedigrees, it was easy to tell they belonged together.

She gracefully moved to her feet, glided forward, and rubbed her flat face all over Octo-Cat’s neck and chest. Both purred so loudly, no one would have been able to get a word in if we’d dared try.

“Oh, my darling Grizabella!” Octo-Cat cried, accepting an enthusiastic lick on the cheek, much as Paisley had predicted.

“Octavius, sweetest,” she chimed, lifting her fluffy tail straight into the air and giving it a happy quiver. “It has been far too long.”

Paisley trotted over, her tail wagging her entire body as she approached. “Hi, Grizzly-bella! I’m Octavius’s kid sister. Nice to meetcha!” She inserted herself right between the lovelorn cats, and I was certain Octo-Cat would hiss and swipe at her for the intrusion.

Instead he put a paw on her back and drew her in for a hug. “Darling, you’ve met Paisley on our video calls.”

“Nice to meet you in person at last, little sister,” Grizabella said with a small bow of her head. “Come. I’ll introduce you to my brothers and sisters.”

All three trod into the screened-in back porch where six other show quality Himalayan cats sat sunning themselves contentedly.

“This is Juliet, Viola, Ophelia, Oberon, Othello, and Hamlet,” she said by way of introduction. “They’re all still active on the circuit. I’m the only one with the distinction of being retired.” She laughed at this, and my pets joined in even though I’d be willing to bet that neither of them understood the joke—I didn’t either.

“C’mon,” Christine said, leading us back toward the entryway. “Let’s get you unpacked while these two lovebirds catch up.”

“Eck!” Octo-Cat screeched. “Being called a bird is even worse than being called a dog.”

“She means well, sweetest,” Grizabella purred at his side. “But we can’t all be blessed with the perfect human companion like you. Can we?”

I stopped in my tracks and jerked my head toward Octo-Cat in complete and utter shock.

“Yeah, I said it,” he growled and curled a lip at me. “And I can just as easily un-say it. Now get out of here while I’m still feeling generous.”

After that accidental confession of his, I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of that day. Despite all his complaints, Octo-Cat not only loved me, he thought I was the best human ever. That meant a lot, considering how difficult he was to please even on his best days.

Once Nan and I had unpacked, Christine offered us tea and cookies. More than once she tried to bring the conversation back around to my gift for talking to animals. And each time I deftly deflected. I needed to speak with Nan about her willingness to share my private business with near strangers before I included Christine in any such talks.

Charles continued to text throughout the day to update me on the non-progress of the seagulls’ case. All he had were the precedents he’d immediately found regarding squatter’s rights in Maine. Unfortunately, he still knew next to nothing about what had happened to the missing flock whose territory was now up for dispute.

Given that Pringle failed to return to my property the night before, we also had no idea whether he’d found something of value or whether he was even still okay… For all we knew, he could have taken a wrong turn and wound up as roadkill. If that had happened because of something I’d asked him to do, I would never forgive myself.

But right now I needed to stop worrying about what could happen and focus on what already had.

Mainly that Nan was sharing my secret with the world… Why?

We both begged off early that night, tired from the long drive and eager to sleep in actual beds again for a change. Christine’s guest room comprised two twin beds, the perfect setup for the conversation we needed to have.

At last, I broached the topic once we’d both changed into our pajamas and settled beneath the hand-made quilts that adorned the matching beds.

“Nan? Why does Christine know about what I can do?”

“It just seemed easier to let her in on it,” my grandmother confessed after turning on her side to face me. “Otherwise this trip would have been quite awkward trying to hide the truth the whole time. And I know Octo-Cat would have driven you crazy with his complaints if we had to spend our nights in a hotel instead of here with his girlfriend.” She shrugged again. “I guess this just seemed like the best option for everyone involved.”

Her answer did not comfort me. In fact, it seemed as if she believed she’d done me a favor. That was definitely not the case. I didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but I did need to make sure she understood.

I tried approaching from a different angle. “Okay, then why did you tell Melissa and her family?”

Nan’s face twisted into a grimace, proving I’d gotten through to her this time. “Oh, that. I’d forgotten I had. It just came up in conversation one day. Sorry about that.”

“Why are you telling people at all? Shouldn’t this be my secret to share?” I watched as her face fell.

She blinked hard. “Oh, dear. You’re right. Of course, you’re right, and I’m sorry if I overstepped. I really didn’t tell that many people, and I made sure none of them lived anywhere near to us. I know how awkward that would make things for you if people we saw every day at the supermarket or the bank or post office knew.”

I sucked in a slow, shaky breath. Confrontation was never easy, least of all with Nan. I needed to say this next part with gentle words but a firm tone. “But, Nan, I don’t want anyone to know, other than the ones I’ve trusted enough to tell myself.”

“Of course not, I’m so sorry. I guess…” She sighed. “I guess I just spent so many years hiding this big important truth that once it was out there I couldn’t help but share everything.”

I smiled to show her I understood, and that even though I definitely didn’t like her actions, I’d already forgiven her for them. “You may have overcorrected there.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” She pulled the quilt up close to her chin and offered a sad smile.

We both lay silent for a couple moments until Nan suddenly popped up in bed and turned to face me with wide eyes. I could practically see the cartoon lightbulb appear over her head. “Tell you what. First of all, I hereby solemnly swear that I won’t tell another soul. You have my word.”

I let out an enormous sigh of relief. “That’s a good start. Thank you.”

She clasped her hands together in her lap and giggled. “And if it ever comes up again, I’ll just tell people that I’ve gone senile. You can toss me in the worst nursing home you can find, and that will be that.”

I gasped. “Nan, you know I would never do that!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll toss myself in.”

“You’re not going to a nursing home.”

“Well, no, because I’m not going to share your secrets anymore. See, it works out for everyone?”

“Love you, Nan.” I said, snapping off the bedside lamp with great satisfaction. If only all conversations went this smoothly, we’d be living in a very different world.

Chapter Nineteen

Octo-Cat and Grizabella began the following day by feasting on jumbo shrimp from a crystal goblet and lying together in a sunbeam most of the afternoon. At night they snuggled up in front of a roaring fire and took turns giving each other tongue baths.

On the third day of our visit, the two kitty lovers strolled through the flowerbeds and ate some grass from the back lawn.

And on the fourth day, they both had upset tummies. This, however, did not stop Octo-Cat from wooing his love by hunting a robin and delivering its carcass for her enjoyment.

Day five is when the anguished mewling began. They both knew their trip was almost up and hated the thought of being separated again so soon after they’d been reunited.

When we began our drive home on day six, poor Octo-Cat was beyond devastated. He hardly spoke at all—not even to complain—the entire drive home. But we couldn’t add even an hour’s delay to our return trip, given the upcoming trial by seagull that awaited us back home. I needed to be there to help Charles deliver his case, or the flock would assuredly wreak unholy terror on us. After all, they’d promised.

Paisley made sure to cuddle and groom Octo-Cat in turns, being the friend he needed but hadn’t quite felt up to asking for. Nan focused on the drive and the new audiobook we’d picked up in town. This one was a sweeping historical saga that actually ran longer than our entire drive time, if you can believe that.

Once home, I had just enough time to take a good two-hour nap before Charles arrived to collect me so we could drive together to the seagulls’ dumpster in Dewdrop Springs.

I gathered my hair in a messy ponytail and pulled on a polka-dotted maxi dress to wear with my thick boots and a coat, and we were off.

“Are you ready for the biggest case of your life?” I joked, happy that it was just me and him in the car and that this drive would only be half an hour instead of thirty-five.

“I’m not ready at all,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. “Pringle never came back.”

“What?” I stared at him as if I’d be able to read the explanation on his face. “But it’s been over a week.”

Charles tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, a nervous tic of his. “I know. That’s why I’m so worried. Do you think something happened to him?”

Dread flooded my gut. For all his faults, Pringle was my friend. A colleague, too. I hated to think that something may have happened to him.

“I’m sure he’s okay.” I forced a smile and placed my hand on Charles’s arm to steady his anxious rapping at the wheel. “He probably just got distracted and lost track of time. That’s all.”

“So what do we do without his evidence? I know none of the facts beyond what we were initially told, and something feels off about the story they told us. If their case is so cut and dry, why do they need us in the first place? Why did that one bird stay on me day in and day out while all the others waited in my yard?”

I knew he would feel better if he had answers going in, but unfortunately there was nothing to be done now. All I could do was try to comfort him and pray this would be finished quickly. “I know you want to do a good job and that you want to be on the side of truth and justice here, but you can only do so much. Present your argument, and then let the birds figure out the rest.”

“I know you’re right. Of course I do, but my intuition keeps gnawing at me. Something’s not right.”

I rubbed his arm soothingly and changed the topic. Talking about all the pieces we didn’t have would only make defending the seagulls’ right to the land that much more difficult for him.

We pulled into the empty strip mall parking lot and found the entire flock waiting for us. Once again, they led us back to the clearing in the field, and there a second even larger flock waited.

“Are we ready to begin proceedings?” A one-legged seagull cawed. I tried not to stare, but he caught me looking, anyway, and shrieked, “Our human guests must show proper respect for the court!”

My poor ears. “Ouch, ouch, okay. Sorry,” I muttered as they continued to ring.

Bravo landed on Charles’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

And Alpha took up a perch on mine. “You better pray he doesn’t mess this one up.”

Gulp.

“So where’s your flock’s lawyer?” I asked the one-legged gull.

“I am the judge here!” he cried even louder than the first time.

“I will be presenting the case on behalf of Flock 84,” a young female bird announced, extending one wing in greeting.

“All rise,” Judgey McJudgerson said while glaring at us.

I bit my lip to stop myself from pointing out that we were all already standing. Given how loud his caws could be, I definitely didn’t want to do anything else that could upset the one-legged banshee.

He glanced at Charles and me then to the bird lawyer and began, “We are gathered here today in holy legality to discuss the dispute between flocks 82 and 84 over the territory previously held by Flock 83. Are there any objections? If so, speak them now or forever hold your peace.”

Um, why had the seagulls selected human law to decide this case when they clearly knew so little about it? I couldn’t tell if I was in a courtroom or at a wedding altar. As ridiculous as this all felt, I also knew that the best way to get through to any animal was to act natural and play by their rules.

So I stepped forward, swallowed hard, and said, “I object.”

All eyes zoomed to me, including Charles’s.

“Sweetie,” he whispered at me. “What are you objecting to? The trial hasn’t even begun yet?”

I didn’t know, but I also didn’t want to lose the opportunity to object if that wasn’t going to be allowed later on.

“Please state your objection for the congregation,” said the bird judge or minister—honestly I didn’t even know anymore.

I cleared my throat and spoke up loud and clear. “I object because this is a case about seagull rights and should, uh, thusly, not be decided by human laws.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Interesting. Do go on.”

“Hey, kid!” Alpha squawked in my ear. “What are you doing to me here? Did you forget our deal?”

But I refused to back down. Something about this case had left Charles unsettled. If our situations were reversed, he never would have forced me to go forward with this. I wanted to meet my bio grandma, yes, but knowing she was out there and close by could be enough of an advantage to find her on my own.

“Since the disputed territory belongs to Flock 83, I propose we let them decide whether 82 or 84 will acquire it in their absence.”

“But Flock 83 disappeared. Nobody knows where they went,” Bravo said from his place on Charles’s shoulder.

I raised both eyebrows. “And don’t you find that a bit curious?”

“Angie, what are you doing?” Charles whisper-yelled as he grabbed onto my upper arm. “This case is open and shut. Let me tell them about the precedents, and we can all go home happy.”

I shook my head hard. I hadn’t known where I was going with this when I first claimed my objection, but now I knew exactly what needed to be done. “No,” I said firmly. “You wouldn’t be happy. Not without knowing.”

“Listen to your mate,” Alpha hissed at me. “Do what we hired you to do, or you’ll be sorry.”

“No, you’re the one who will be sorry!” Pringle shouted, charging onto the scene with a fuzzy brown chick on his back—a baby seagull, I realized.

Exactly three thoughts ran through my head at that moment:

Pringle was alive!

He had discovered something important!

And it would be a lot longer until I got to meet my long-lost grandmother…

Chapter Twenty

“What is the meaning of this?” the judge bird demanded of the raccoon. Spotting the little one, however, he immediately changed his tone. “Oh, hello there, chicky. This is no place for youngsters, I’m afraid.”

“I may be young of age, but I am old in experience.” The baby gull’s voice came out high and squeaky and so, so cute. “I have seen things, escaped things, that no bird should ever witness.”

“Throw her out of here. We have a very important trial to run, and we need to do so without any more delays!” Alpha declared, swooping down from my shoulder and landing before the judge.

Pringle stood on his hind legs and clutched the fluffy chick to his chest defensively. “Quit your yapping and listen to my friend Abigull here. It’s because of her I’m going to get my treasure.”

I held my breath and waited. Whatever Abigull revealed next, I knew it would decide what happened in this field today.

Alpha spread his wings wide and charged at the raccoon. “We don’t have to listen to you, you filthy—”

Pringle bared his teeth and hissed, which had Alpha immediately changing course and flying to the nearest tree for cover.

“Go on, Abigull. This is a safe place,” the judge nudged.

She hopped out of Pringle’s hands and onto the ground, then began her harrowing tale. “I was hatched in Flock 83. I loved it there with my family and had just started practicing leaving the nest. One day I came home after exploring and found that everyone had gone away. Every single bird. I cried out for my momma but couldn’t find her anywhere. Then I saw that guy.” She stopped and motioned toward Alpha with her beak. “I saw him pecking around, so decided to follow him for a closer look. That’s when I found him talking to a cat. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the next thing I knew the cat had a dead seagull in its mouth and was shouting ‘pleasure doing business with you!’ I still wasn’t a very good flyer, so I ran and hid. And I’ve been hiding ever since. Well, until Pringle found me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” I murmured, my heart breaking for her.

The one-legged bird scuttled over to Abigull and put a wing over her small body. “A horrible, horrible thing this surprise witness has revealed to us today.”

She sniffed and leaned into his side. “I’ve been so afraid.”

“You did the right thing by telling us,” the judge assured her. “It would seem that Alpha of Flock 82 slaughtered 83 with a feline accomplice in order to gain their land. But we won’t let that happen.”

“Guys!” I shouted when I saw a small patch of white launch away from a tree and into the sky above. “He’s getting away!”

“Oh, no, he isn’t!” Bravo cried and catapulted after him. “C’mon 82. 84, too. We can’t let this stand.”

Everyone but the judge, Abigull, Pringle, Charles, and I departed to bring the war criminal to justice. I doubted his end would be a pleasant one.

“You were right,” I told Charles, shaking my head. It had all happened so, so fast. “This whole time. You assumed foul play, and you were absolutely, undeniably right.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss onto my forehead. I thought he was going to comment on my clever pun, but instead he said, “You were going to risk not meeting your grandmother for me.”

I laughed. “Yeah, well, romance is a verb, you know?”

His eyes squinted in confusion. “No, I really don’t know. I believe you, though.”

“Thank you for your help, Pringle.” I reached down to offer the raccoon a high five. “You really saved the day.”

He sniffed and held his snout high. “Maybe. It’s a shame what happened to all those birds, though.”

“Still, you’ve more than earned your treasure.” Then I realized… “I’m not so sure Flock 82 is going to be eager to give us the payment they promised, but I’ll make sure you’re paid for your time. What do you want? A motorcycle? A robot?”

Oh, man. Why was I giving him ideas?

Pringle’s eyes became huge with all the exciting prospects. “Well, actually—”

CA-CAW! Bravo announced his return with a shrill cry as he swooped back to the earth. “The others have this well in hand.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply nodded.

“Your name is Abigull, right?” he said to the chick who still stood huddled beneath Judge’s wing.

She ambled out to face him with a salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”

Bravo bent down and gazed directly into her eyes, then straightened and said, “I know it won’t replace the flock you lost, but I invite you to join 82 if you would like. I’ll raise you as my own and make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“Wow. But aren’t you the new Alpha?” Abigull whispered reverently.

“Alpha? No, I’m not going to take that name. Call me Bravo. That’s who I am and who I will always be. I may be in charge now, but it doesn’t mean I need to act like a jerk about it.”

“Okay, Bravo,” the chick said, then pressed her fuzzy gray body into his.

I teared up watching them.

Even Pringle seemed to have something caught in his eye.

Charles wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“You tried to help me see that Alpha’s orders were too much. But I denied your help and stuck blindly to his commands. I could have stopped all this. I could have saved—”

“No,” I insisted. “None of this is your fault. As soon as you knew what was going on, you fixed it. You’ll be a great leader to your flock, Bravo. I’m sure of it.”

“I haven’t forgotten our promise to you,” the bird said, hopping along the grass. “Follow me back to the dumpster, and I will present your material payment. The flock will have a lot to figure out with the loss of 83’s land, but it’s only fair we don’t benefit from our corrupt leader’s actions. Once my birds are safe, I will take you to meet your grandmother. I wish I could take you sooner as a thank-you for all you’ve done, but none of us expected what happened. It will be a huge transition for our flock, plus I need some good quality time with my new daughter.”

Abigull gave a happy chirrup.

I bowed my head. “That’s all I can ask for. Thank you so much. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Judge chose to remain in the field and wait for the return of the others.

The rest of us made the short trek to the dumpster in the nearby strip mall parking lot.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see my secret prize!” Pringle rubbed his hands together and jumped up and down as Bravo dove into the smelly trash receptacle and began to rummage about.

When he emerged a few moments later, I expected to see a dirty fast-food wrapper or maybe a plastic doohickey on display. But instead Bravo held a sparkling diamond solitaire ring clamped firmly in his beak. “Now which one of you gets this?” he asked, looking from me to Charles to Pringle.

“Mine!” the raccoon screamed gleefully, scurried up the side of the dumpster, and snatched the beautiful piece of jewelry.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Charles said with a laugh as he looped an arm around my waist.

I smiled but didn’t say anything.

Yes, it certainly was unexpected. Not just the treasure being something of actual value, but this entire day, the truth about the horrible fate that had befallen Flock 83 and presumably Alpha as his punishment.

But the most surprising part of all had been the way I felt inside when that glittering engagement ring came into view. My breath hitched, my heart skipped a beat, and I definitely got love butterflies.

It wasn’t from fear, though, rather an unwavering certainty.

If Charles had been the one holding that ring, I would have definitely said yes.

What’s Next?

Nan has volunteered to raise funds for the local animal shelter by throwing the most lavish—but also the most convoluted—charity event in Blueberry Bay history. The so-called “Black Cat Benefit” is one part adoption event, one part dinner party, and also one part silent auction, formal ball, and glammed-up race for the cause.

Unfortunately, when a guest turns up dead partway through the night, nobody takes her murder seriously, assuming it’s yet another part of the planned festivities. Oops! Can Angie, Nan, Octo-Cat, and Paisley, along with a clowder of uninitiated black shelter cats, catch the killer and save the night from ruin?

Get this special Octo-Cat short mystery for just 99 cents as part of the Black Cat Crossing collection. You’ll also receive nine other black-cat themed cozy mysteries as part of this exclusive digital boxed set… Enjoy!

CLICK HERE to snag this awesome deal and get more Octo-Cat in your life today!

A New Series from Molly!

A new series from Molly Fitz has arrived!

Don’t worry the Pet Whisperer crew still has plenty of new stories coming your way… But, hey, while you wait, why not get to know Tawny and Mr. Fluffikins?

My name is Tawny Bigford. I’m 35, single, and I love hot showers. Seriously, all I wanted was a hot shower to start my day off right, but when I went to confront my landlady about the broken plumbing, I wound up talking to her corpse instead.

Now everyone thinks I’m to blame for her murder—not the best way to make an impression on the new neighbors, let me tell you. But how can I prove I’m innocent when I know practically nothing about the woman I supposedly killed?

Especially not the fact that she was the official Beech Grove town witch. Her former boss—a snarky black cat named Mr. Fluffikins—says I have to fill her vacated role until the real killer can be caught and brought to justice.

So, whether I like it or not, I’ve just been recruited to the Paranormal Temp Agency. Now I need to solve my landlady’s murder, figure out how to wield my newly granted powers, and maybe even find a way to fit in around here.

Yup. All in a day’s work for this novice witch.

WITCH FOR HIRE is now available.

CLICK HERE to get your copy so that you can start reading Molly’s new series today!

Welcome to Tattered Pages

Curious about the Tattered Pages bookshop where Angie purchased Dr. Roman’s audiobook and first met Bravo? It’s from Shelf Indulgence.

Shelf Indulgence is actually a sister series to Pet Whisperer P.I., and it’s written by my very good friend S.E. Babin. Sometimes places and characters cross over, but each series can be read totally on its own. They’re way more fun together, though.

Now’s a great time to catch up with Shelf Indulgence because the next book in the series is coming very soon.

You’ve already met Dakota and her crazy cat Poppy. Now meet the rest of the gang in this special preview of HARDBACK HOMICIDE. Here’s the first chapter to get you started… Enjoy!

“Pour me another and keep ‘em coming,” I said to my assistant, Harper, as she waved the coffee pot at me. I held out my mug like a dutiful soldier, and Harper poured in the life-giving liquid beans that would enable me to get through another day after yet another sleepless night. I rarely had trouble sleeping. I lived a low-stress life surrounded by good books, a gorgeous, uneventful town, and as much coffee as the local handsome supplier could get me to buy. This meant a lot. He was cute, and he used that and his wonderful beans to prey upon my addiction to java. If he didn’t move out of this town soon, I was going to have to find a coffee drinker’s anonymous group.

I poured in a disturbing amount of cream and a slightly less disturbing amount of sugar and rattled off my daily attack plan to Harper.

“Respond to Jeff’s email today with another big fat no.”

“Check!” said Harper.

“Re-sort the mystery area. Again.” I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Hanson came in again complaining about Jeffery Deaver books getting mixed in with the Agatha Christie’s. Considering the old woman kept buying them, I think she was just trying to blame us for her impulsiveness… and her addiction to mysteries a little more hardcore than good ol’ Ms. Christie.

“Maybe we should just switch out the jackets so she can buy all the Jeffery Deaver books she wants with zero guilt.”

A snort escaped me. “She’ll find something else to complain about. Trust me.”

Harper poured herself another cup of coffee and leaned against the register. Her blonde hair was done up in a messy bun today, just like it was almost every day. Harper was a low maintenance, low everything kind of girl, but I’d seen her get dressed up on a few occasions and she was a total knock-out. Of course, I always thought she looked great even with her old slogan shirts, skinny jeans and black-framed glasses that made her sparkling green eyes look enormous. But Harper wasn’t the kind of person who took compliments graciously. Every time I told her she looked nice, she’d grumble something about not being able to find a hairbrush. I eventually gave up. One day she’d realize the male traffic we had pouring in and out of here on the weekends had a lot less to do with books and a lot more to do with her.

Until then, she was doing a lot for our bottom line because whatever book Harper recommended to those hapless males, they’d happily buy. I learned to keep my amusement to myself over it. Harper was a smart girl, a wonderful employee, and a massive bookworm.

You kind of had to be to work in a shop like this one. Tattered Pages focused on the new, quirky, and the rare. We could order whatever books you needed if we didn’t already have it in stock, and you could read here if you wanted. I made a point of setting up several comfy lounge areas scattered around the store. There were bean bag chairs, recliners, hardback chairs for the strict, and even a small meditation area scattered with zafu cushions and soft pillows.

One thing I didn’t have and was working toward was a small eating area where people could order some coffee and something sweet with their purchase. I hoped to have that up and running within the next few months. Then my dream of owning a bookshop/small cafe would finally be realized.

The other resident of the bookshop sprung up onto the counter and promptly rubbed herself against Harper’s arm. She reached over and gave Poppy a scratch behind the ears. The red Persian came with the store after the old owner passed away. She’d been made part of the sale which I hadn’t been too happy about, but Poppy turned out to be a welcome addition to the Tattered Pages family. The townspeople loved her and, as cats were wont to do, she tolerated them back.

A lot of things had changed for me since I plunked down my entire savings to buy the store. I’d knocked down a few walls and completely renovated the place. I sold most of the stock and replenished it with my own choices. Rare books were kept under lock and key, fitted with a screeching alarm just in case someone tried to pry it open. Nothing like that really happened around Dewdrop Springs, but I wasn’t originally from here, so better safe than sorry for me. I’d grown up several towns away but had lived here for close to ten years now.

My shop was nestled between a cupcake shop and a specialty oil shop. I frequented both of them because: a) I loved cupcakes and b) specialty oils were cool, and the owner made fresh bread every single day and offered it up as samples to dip in the oil.

I could not resist the bread and it was obvious from the extra fifteen pounds I carried around. I didn’t mind much. If I gave up bread, I gave up joy. No one wants to give up joy. So, I continued popping over there a few times a week to see what new thing Jenny had to offer and what new bread recipe she managed to come up with.

Plus, I loved the name, Olive Twist!

The cupcake shop was another demon of its own. I frequented that one almost every day, much to my own chagrin. In my defense, she moved in after I’d bought the store and renamed it. Otherwise, I probably would have found a new location away from such tasty temptation. Sprinkle Heaven was just that. Delicious, frosted heaven.

Trudy was a wizard when it came to cupcakes. From the traditional to the downright bizarre, she cornered the market on unique when it came to the tiny cakes. Plus, even though I couldn’t keep my hands off her treats, she sent business into the store all the time just because people liked to shop after they ate something delicious.

Poppy abruptly dropped and rolled over, exposing her belly to Harper. She grinned and quickly scratched her belly. With Poppy you never knew exactly how much petting she could take before she swiped you with a paw. She was a temperamental beast, but she kept the kids entertained when they came in. It was all I could ask for, really.

Harper sipped her coffee. “Anything else you want me to do today?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think so. Everything should be good until Friday. Then we have to get ready for the twenty percent off sale. Plus, we have the festival coming up. Maybe we should start brainstorming some ideas for that.”

The Dewdrop Springs Harvest Festival was hands down the primo event of the season. People came from all over to attend. It was chaotic but wonderful and I loved every second of it. Volunteers signed up to help decorate the town square and almost all the shop owners worked together to decorate their shops in the same theme. There were always a couple of hold outs. Craig, the old curmudgeon who owned the custom knife shop, never decorated, and we finally had to stop asking him after he threatened to start throwing knives at us.

This town was full of colorful characters. Lucky for me, I liked weird people.

Harper’s eyes lit up. She adored fall and all of its wonderful things. “We should have a bake-off. The grand prize winner gets a big basket of books and a $50 gift certificate for the shop.”

My gaze narrowed as I thought about it. “It could work. Should we make it a little more specific than that? Maybe make it pies? Or fall desserts?”

Harper straightened. “Ooh and have an additional category for best use of cinnamon or cloves!”

“Maybe we could add in a fall-drink category.” I tapped my chin as I thought about it. “We’d have to keep an eye on Corky if we allowed alcohol in.”

A smirk lit up Harper’s face. Corky was my aunt on my mother’s side. I loved her to death, but she was a handful, especially when she whipped her flask out. My mom and I hid the thing at least once a week, but it didn’t matter if Corky found it or not. The next time we’d see her, she’d have a brand-new flask and the same sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Does it really matter if we had alcohol or not considering she’s going to bring it in anyway?” Harper snickered. She, like most of the population of this town, adored Corky, but her shenanigans had the potential to be really embarrassing. Plus, I didn’t think she even sipped out of the flask. I suspected she kept it as a prop and as an excuse to act outrageous.

“We’ll just have to watch her,” I said and sighed. “Let’s get it all down on paper and present it to the other stores around here. Maybe we can get them in on it, or at least see if they want to donate anything.”

"Like cupcakes?" Harper asked, her eyes wide and innocent. She knew exactly how much I loved those Sprinkles cupcakes.

"Maybe," I said and winked at her.

The bell over the door jingled merrily, and we both turned to see who'd come in. Tattered Pages had a loyal following in the town, but we also got a lot of traffic from tourists. Some seasons were busier than others.

Fall was arriving in Maine, and with it came the changing of the leaves from bright green to dark reds and burnt oranges. The weather was pretty constant and stayed at a brisk fifty something degrees during the month of October. November, when the harvest festival was scheduled, would dip down into a cool forty something. Harper and I were both wearing a long sleeve shirt and a zipped up over vest. Every time the door opened, a brisk wind would blow into the store, shifting our hair and freezing our noses.

It wasn't too cold yet. That honor would save itself until around Christmas time and we Mainers were a hardy stock.

Jen from Olive Twist! stepped in and with her came the smell of warm, yeasty bread and something with garlic. Like Pavlov's dog, my mouth started to water.

"Garlic?" I said, perking up and sniffing the air. "What is that?"

Jen, pretty and perky for so early in the morning, grinned as the door shut behind her. "It's my new garlic rye loaf." In her late forties, Jen was slim and fit. Her light hair was just starting to silver at the edges of her hairline, but her complexion was still wrinkle-free and smooth. Her face was round, and her cheeks were tinged pink by the cool air.

She smacked my hands away gently as I started to reach for it. "Hold your horses," she said as she walked over to the counter. Steam rose from the brown paper bag as she opened it and slid the bread out. Placing it on top of the bag, she dug around in her purse and pulled out a small knife.

"Always prepared!" she announced. Jen sliced through the bread, cutting two generous slices and handed one to me and Harper, who'd followed behind me.

I snagged mine greedily and took a huge bite. Buttery, garlic goodness burst on my tongue and I stifled a moan. Bread was one of my major vices, but it was one hard to feel guilty about. The other was my habit of weekend, pajama wearing Netflix binges. Both were bad for my waistline.

Jen stared at us in anticipation. "What do you think? I want to introduce this next week and maybe put it in rotation as a menu item."

I perked up at that. "You're going to start selling bread?"

"Ayuh," she agreed. The word made me smile. My parents still used the word, as did a lot of the older folks around here, but it was going the way of bread making with the younger people.

"That's going to be terrible for my waistline and wallet," I said. "But delicious for my belly," I added to soften my words.

"It's a natural progression," Jen said as she lay the knife down on top of the paper bag. "I've been selling oils for so long and making the bread just as a hobby, but for years people have been asking me where to get the bread from." Her shoulder lifted and fell in a slight shrug. "Thought I might as well give them what they're asking for."

"I can't wait," Harper said around a mouth full of bread. "This is wonderful."

"The garlic came from the Coon's farm up the road," Jen said. "Seasonal, so I have to stock up and make sure I store it properly." A frown touched her brow. "If I do it wrong, I'm stuck using grocery store garlic, and it just isn't the same."

I cut myself another slice of the dark rye bread. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up. This is amazing."

"You girls keep the rest of that," she said and waved as she adjusted the purse over her shoulder. "I have to get back to the shop."

My mouth dropped open. "You're leaving us the whole loaf? That's a terrible thing to do, Jen!"

Her laugh echoed in the store as she swept out of the shop, the bell jingling as the door opened.

I stared down in dismay at the garlic rye loaf.

Harper snorted in amusement. "There's this thing..." Harper began. "It's called willpower."

I waved the knife at her. "Don't judge me. This is delicious bread.”

I cut myself another slice and swore I'd eat salad for dinner.

Life was all about balance.

Are you ready to read more? Buy or borrow Hardback Homicide to continue the mystery today!

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Welcome to Blueberry Bay, a scenic region of Maine peppered with quaint small towns and home to a shocking number of mysteries. If you loved this book, then make sure to check out its sister series from other talented Cozy Mystery authors…

Visit SweetPromisePress.com/BlueberryBay to dive right in, or scroll down to learn more!

Pet Whisperer P.I.

By Molly Fitz

Glendale is home to Blueberry Bay’s first ever talking cat detective. Along with his ragtag gang of human and animal helpers, Octo-Cat is determined to save the day… so long as it doesn’t interfere with his schedule. Start with book one, Kitty Confidential.

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Shelf Indulgence

By S.E. Babin

Dewdrop Springs is home to Tattered Pages, a popular bookshop specializing in rare editions, a grumpy Persian cat named Poppy, and some of the most suspicious characters you’ll ever meet. And poor Dakota Adair has just inherited it all. She’ll need to make peace with her new cat and use all her book smarts to catch a killer or she might be the next to wind up dead in the stacks. Start with book one, Hardback Homicide.

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Clover Creek is home to the only stuffed cupcake bakery in all of Blueberry Bay: Frosted. Ava Decker has just inherited it, along with the previous owner’s cat: Lucky, an Abyssinian that thinks he’s a dog and is never too far from the action. Action could include anything from criminal capers to missing items to murder. You never know what is stuffed inside the next Frosted adventure. Start with book one, Cupcakes & Chaos.

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Pineville is home to the tastiest shakes and sweetest cakes. While Sunny Shaw and her Newfie sidekick Jasper attempt to juggle shakes, cakes, and adorable kittens, they also find themselves in the middle of one disaster after another. Now that sleuthing has been unintentionally added to her skill set, can Sunny and her misfit gang of animals solve the area's sudden growth in unsolved crimes, all while keeping her new business afloat? Start with book one, Claws of Justice.

ABOUT MOLLY FITZ

While USA Today bestselling author Molly Fitz can't technically talk to animals, she and her doggie best friend, Sky Princess, have deep and very animated conversations as they navigate their days. Add to that, five more dogs, a snarky feline, comedian husband, and diva daughter, and you can pretty much imagine how life looks at the Casa de Fitz.

Molly lives in a house on a high hill in the Michigan woods and occasionally ventures out for good food, great coffee, or to meet new animal friends.

Writing her quirky, cozy animal mysteries is pretty much a dream come true, but sometimes she also goes by the names Melissa Storm and Mila Riggs and writes a very different kind of story.

Learn more, grab the free app, or sign up for her newsletter at www.MollyMysteries.com!

MORE FROM MOLLY

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Angie Russo just partnered up with Blueberry Bay’s first ever talking cat detective. Along with his ragtag gang of human and animal helpers, Octo-Cat is determined to save the day… so long as it doesn’t interfere with his schedule. Start with book 1, Kitty Confidential.

PARANORMAL TEMP AGENCY

Tawny Bigford’s simple life takes a turn for the magical when she stumbles upon her landlady’s murder and is recruited by a talking black cat named Fluffikins to take over the deceased’s role as the official Town Witch for Beech Grove, Georgia. Start with book 1, Witch for Hire.

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