Молли Фитц - Retriever Ransom

I mean, I have seven associate degrees.

At least one of those should be good for a job.

And a job is exactly what I’ll have to get if my business doesn’t take off this year. My boyfriend Charles said he’d welcome me back at the law firm anytime, and while I love him dearly, I always hated being a paralegal.

It doesn’t matter, though, because I will succeed at this P.I. thing.

I’m too stubborn not to.

Besides, I’d really hate to let down my cat…

“This is so exciting,” Nan trilled as we stood outside of city hall with a small crowd of other Glendalians to watch the incoming mayor get sworn into office.

Paisley barked merrily from within my grandmother’s arms.

Octo-Cat had requested to stay home, given his disdain for crowds, and that was a battle I hadn’t wanted to fight.

The mayor appeared at the top of the steps dressed in a fine navy suit with a light blue dress shirt and matching tie. At forty-seven, he was at least two decades younger than his predecessor. But while Mayor McHenry had been a family man, incoming mayor Dennison was a proud bachelor.

When asked about his singlehood by the press, he always said that his trusty golden retriever was more than enough family for him. Besides, less of a home life made it easier for him to give his full attention to making the humble town of Glendale the best it could be. Good answer, right?

As Dennison moved toward the podium now, a harsh boo rose from the crowd. Nan and I spun and saw a line of protestors holding signs that called for the new mayor to be ousted before he’d even fully taken up office.

“That’s in poor taste,” Nan hissed, shaking her head.

“Why does everyone hate him so much?” I whispered.

She shrugged. “Any time the party in office changes, somebody’s bound to be unhappy about it. The whole country’s a powder keg, so why not our town, too?”

I returned my gaze to Dennison, who stood stock-still with an unreadable expression. Poor guy. He’d won the election fair and square, yet he couldn’t even enjoy this pinnacle moment in his career.

“What’s going on, Mommy?” Paisley asked, wagging her tail in excitement, misreading the mood of the crowd.

I kissed her on the head and whispered, “Don’t worry about it.”

As much as I loved the optimistic little dog, explaining everything to her all the time often became exhausting—especially when we were in public and I couldn’t speak freely.

“People of Glendale,” the new mayor’s voice boomed despite the continuing sounds of protest. “Thank you for electing me to serve as your mayor.”

The boos and calls for him to resign grew louder.

Nan whooped and cheered beside me even though I knew for a fact she hadn’t voted for him. She smiled at me sheepishly. “Poor guy. Someone needs to encourage him.”

Now we both cheered.

Dennison’s eyes met mine, and he nodded subtly before continuing. “I promise to do everything in my power to make these next four years prosperous and safe for all of us. Thank you.”

He dipped his head, then disappeared back inside the building.

Octo-Cat would definitely be upset at having missed the drama of this day.

“Well, that was the shortest inauguration I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to all of them since moving out here some forty years ago,” Nan mused.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I mumbled. “People just need time to cool off after the election.”

“Yes, because all of November and December and most of January obviously weren’t enough,” Nan responded after sucking air through her teeth.

We stood in place waiting for the crowd to disperse. Some of them did, but the protestors seemed to grow in number as they crept closer to the stairs outside city hall.

“Let’s get out of here,” Nan said, shaking her head sadly.

I couldn’t agree more.

Chapter Two

I sat in the enormous bay window of my home library sipping an oversized mug of English breakfast tea while watching the snow swirl past.

Octo-Cat sat at my feet flicking his tail back and forth to the tuneless hum of our mostly silent house. “You wouldn’t catch me dead in that mess.”

I lowered my mug and cuddled deeper into the woven afghan wrapped around my shoulders. “What? The snow?”

He scoffed at my apparent naivete. “Snow, yeah. You can’t fool me. It’s nothing but semi-solid water. No, thank you.”

“You know…” A smile crept across my face as I waited for him to turn toward me. “Maine Coons supposedly love water, and you are part Maine Coon, right?”

He always claimed to be, but we both knew that was a lie.

Octo-Cat’s eyes slitted and his tail stilled. “Yes,” he answered slowly, cautiously. “But I’m also part tabby. Tabbies don’t like the water.”

“Of course.” I took another sip of tea to prevent a chuckle from escaping. Far be it from me to point out that Tabby was a coloration and not a breed. Everything Octavius said had to be taken at face value, lest we upset him.

He’d also gone to the Holiday Spectacular last month when the ground was covered in fresh snowfall and hadn’t complained too much—at least not for him. It seemed we’d now crossed the acceptable level of snow since then. Either that or he was passing judgment on my less than stellar job keeping up with the shoveling.

Light clacking sounded on the floorboards, and a moment later Paisley appeared, tail wagging in its usual dark blur. “Hello, Mommy. Can I cuddle, too?”

Octo-Cat groaned and rolled his eyes when the Chihuahua jumped onto my lap.

“I wanted to say hi before Nan and I go on our run. Hi!”

I gaped down at her. “You’re running in this?” The snow had to be twice as deep as she was tall.

She blinked wide eyes at me, confused by this question. “Why, yes. We run every day, come heck or high water.”

“Water,” Octo-Cat emphasized with a pointed flick of his tail. “Told you it was water.”

Nan and Paisley had started their recreational running hobby on January first and had kept up with it every day since. That was my grandmother for you. She always had a number of hobbies going, usually at least one that was artistic and one fitness based. Often many more than that, too.

This month’s commitment to running, however, seemed to be more about me than about herself. I often pointed out the fact my seventy-something Nan was in far better shape than twenty-something me, and that had become incredibly evident last month when we ran around downtown Glendale chasing killers, kidnappers, and more.

Apparently, I’d complained a bit too loudly and too often, because now Nan invited me to join her every single day—and I said “no” every single day.

Did she really think I’d be up for starting a new exercise regimen at the height of the cold season? Nope. No, thank you.

Sure enough, my worst fears were answered when Nan appeared about five minutes later. She was wearing a hot pink velour tracksuit and held a leopard print coat with a fur collar draped over one arm. “C’mon, we’ve got to get going a little early today. I have a quick stop-off to make before we hit the trail.”

I doubted there was a trail, unless she’d woken up early to shovel one herself. A giant yawn pushed its way out from my chest as a massive shiver racked through my body. “You and Paisley have fun out there!”

“Oh, no. Today you’re coming too,” Nan insisted, reaching for my hand and attempting to pull me from my seat.

I ripped away as if she’d scalded me with her soft touch. “Ha, ha. Nice try. Today’s answer is the same as it’s been every other day you’ve asked me. Octo-Cat and I will hold down the fort here. See you when you’re back.”