Molly Fitz - The Cat Caper (Pet Whisperer P.I. Book 5)

A fresh wave of panic bubbled inside me. “Do you think someone kidnapped Octo-Cat to get back at me?”

“Well, it’s not like he had any enemies of his own, so I guess it’s a possibility.” Charles scooted up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I laid my head on his chest and tried not to feel as if I’d somehow signed my best fur friend’s death warrant. When it came right down to it, though, we had no proof he would ever come home again—or that he was even still alive.

“Now, dear. Who hates you most in this world?” Nan asked, completely oblivious to the emotional river that raged within me. She was never one to use a gentle word when a stronger one would do.

Hate, wow. There were people out there who actually hated me. That was, indeed, a tough pill to swallow.

“But also knows you well enough to know that taking your cat would be a huge punishment,” Charles added softly.

“Oh, excellent point,” Nan said with a giggle. She spied Charles’s hand on my shoulder and tossed a wink my way, enjoying this whole mess far too much for my liking.

“Hate’s a really strong word,” I hedged as I shook free of Charles’s arm. Immediately the cold took his place and sent a shiver rushing down my spine.

“It’s a strong feeling, too,” Nan agreed. “I know it’s hard to think about, but I’m almost certain the folks you put in prison aren’t too happy with you about that.”

I got up and walked across the room, then sank down onto the sofa with a groan. “Okay. First of all, I didn’t put them in prison. Their crimes did that. And second, they’re in prison. How could they have possibly taken Octo-Cat even if they’d wanted to?”

“She’s right,” Charles told Nan, and they let out matching sighs. It was eerie how well we all knew each other and had even started to pick up some of each other’s mannerisms. “We may be working against a two-man operation here.

“Or a two-woman gig. Girls can be bad, too, you know.” She seemed to take perverse pride in this observation. Now that was a really messed-up form of girl power.

“That Peter guy who worked with us briefly certainly didn’t like you much,” Charles added, referring to Bethany’s creepy cousin who had worked as a paralegal at our firm. We’d even been forced to share the same desk. I was definitely happy he’d moved down to Georgia, putting a comfortable number of miles between us.

“Yeah, and didn’t another fella get fired after you complained about sexual harassment?” Nan quickly interjected. “Brad, was it?”

“Yes and yes, but both those guys were skeezy,” I whined. Was my proud feminist grandmother really giving me a hard time about standing up against inappropriate advances? Unbelievable.

“Brad sexually harassed everyone and should have been fired a long time before I finally complained about him. And by the way, I’m not the only one who complained, either. Meanwhile, Peter seemed to have it out for me from day one. Thank goodness they’re both gone now.”

Nan frowned and fiddled some with her markers. “I’m not trying to upset you. Just trying to help bring our buddy home.”

“Look. I can see we’re not really getting anywhere with this line of questioning, so let’s back it up,” Charles said, jumping graciously to my rescue.

“Yes, and Angie seems quite worked up now, too.” Nan came to join me on the couch and placed one aged hand on my knee.

“It’s not fun making a list of people who despise you,” I told them both. It seemed like this day just kept getting worse and worse. “You should try it and see.”

“Oh, nobody dislikes me.” Nan fluffed her hair and wiggled in her seat. “I’m just a quirky old grandma.”

“Uh-huh.” I smirked. At least we’d moved on from compiling our Angie’s-worst-enemies list.

Charles came over and sat on my other side. “More and more this looks like it must be tied to Ethel Fulton’s estate and somebody who was unhappy about how the inheritance was doled out.”

“He’s right,” Nan said, leaning back into the hard antique cushion. “The timing is too suspect to be anything else.”

“And we’re sure he didn’t just wander off on his own?” Charles raised one eyebrow and waited.

“No way,” Nan and I cried in unison.

He pressed his lips in a thin line and made a harrumph sound. “Then that narrows our pool considerably. Since Ethel used our firm for her will, I should be able to get a copy. You’ll have to catch me up on all the key players and what we know about them so far, though, since this all happened before I moved to town.”

“Should we call Officer Bouchard and let him know?” Nan asked. She’d had a crush on this particular member of local law enforcement for close to a year now. Jeez. Between me and Nan, we were crushing on practically everyone in our small town. Not that either of us ever went out on any dates, but still.

Charles shook his head and frowned. “Let him know what? Unfortunately we haven’t got any proof.”

“You know what that means, then.” Nan pressed down hard on my knee and pushed herself back onto her feet. “We need to go find some.”

Chapter Eleven

Nan stayed back at the house while Charles and I headed to the law firm so we could grab a copy of Ethel’s will along with a list of its beneficiaries.

“There are like thirty people on this,” I said with a sigh as I ran through the lengthy legal document a second time. “How do we know which one took Octo-Cat?”

“Let’s make a list of addresses and last known contact info,” Charles suggested, pulling up a fresh document on his laptop. “Then we can probably eliminate anyone out of state and take things from there.”

“I’m going to see what I can learn about our suspects on social media, too.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and waved it between us with a mischievous grin. “People are amazingly transparent when they think nobody is paying attention. Maybe we’ll find out who’s unhappy about the will or having money problems. Someone’s gotta have a clear motive if we dig deep enough.”

“I like how your mind works. Have at it,” Charles said before turning his full attention toward his computer.

We passed a few hours in this way. I took a page from Nan’s book and placed color-coded marks next to each name on the list of beneficiaries, depending on what we learned about that person and how likely it was they might be our catnapper.

“The blue checkmarks are for those people I remember seeing at the will reading,” I explained once we’d both completed our research. “Gosh, that feels like it happened forever ago.”

My life had changed astronomically since that day. I still remembered coming into the office and getting hounded by Thompson for not having on suitable attire. I borrowed a jacket from my friend Bethany, even though we weren’t quite friends yet at that point, then I got electrocuted by the coffee maker, woke up able to speak with Octo-Cat, and—boy—things really escalated from there.

Now I had a talking cat for my best friend, lived in one of the swankiest manor homes in the entire state, and was on the verge of opening up my own private investigation firm.

That is, once I got up the nerve to hand in my resignation notice to Charles.

I swallowed hard and continued walking him through my list of suspects. “The black X means either their profiles are set to private or I couldn’t find them. I drew the red circle next to the names of people I thought seemed suspicious or like they could kidnap a cat.”

“But almost everyone has a red circle,” Charles pointed out with a chuckle that sent a knife straight through me.

“Hey, don’t laugh. This is serious.” I glowered at him until he quieted down.