Molly Fitz: Himalayan Hazard (Pet Whisperer P.I. Book 8)

Hi. I’m Angie Russo, and while you may not immediately recognize it, I’m probably one of the most unusual people you’ll ever meet.

Why?

Well, how many other people do you know who can communicate with animals? And, no, I’m not talking meows, woofs, and chirps. We have actual conversations, and we even solve crimes together—but I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Before I say any more —shhh!— my strange ability is a secret that must be protected at all costs. Not because I’m in danger or anything, just because I’d rather people not know.

Okay?

And, no, I’m not a witch, werewolf, or other kind of fictional supernatural creature. I’m just a normal girl in her late twenties who got electrocuted by an old coffee maker and woke up with the power to communicate with animals.

First, it was just the one cat, Octo-Cat as I call him. He was in the room when I got zapped. We were both there for a will reading, me as the lowly paralegal and him as the primary beneficiary.

When he realized I could understand him, he revealed that his late owner had been murdered even though everyone thought the rich old lady had died of natural causes. Turns out that wasn’t what had happened at all.

She’d been murdered, and now he needed me to help him prove it.

Well, we got justice for Ethel Fulton and eventually wound up living in her stately manor home. Since none of the relatives wanted Octo-Cat and I really, really wanted him, we ended up together, too.

We live with my eccentric grandmother, who’s known around these parts simply as Nan. A few months ago, we also adopted a rescue Chihuahua named Paisley. She’s the sugar to Octo-Cat’s spice, and the cute little thing can never say a bad word about anyone…

Well, except for about the naughty raccoon named Pringle who lives in our backyard. He used to live under the porch, but then he kind of blackmailed us into building him a custom treehouse—two treehouses, actually. Oh, boy, is that a long story.

Speaking of long stories, I’ve got several of those. Just you wait.

You see, a lot has changed in the months since Octo-Cat and I officially opened our P.I. business together. We haven’t had a single paying client yet, but we’re still getting tons of experience by accidentally stumbling into one mystery after the next.

Hey, whatever works. Right?

Oh, also, I’m in love with my boyfriend and former boss, Charles Longfellow, III—although I haven’t exactly told him that yet. Octo-Cat is also in a long-distance relationship with a former show cat and minor Instagram influencer named Grizabella. And he never stops telling her—or anyone who will listen—just how much he loves her. He’s even started giving me guff about how slow Charles and I are moving by comparison.

Then there’s the fact that we’ve discovered Nan isn’t actually biologically related to me or my mom, but we’re still working on digging up the full story there. Yes, this entire time, she hasn’t understood the reason we were shoved together, either.

On the positive side of that crazy bit of news, we have connected with long-lost family in Larkhaven, Georgia. I was supposed to visit them last month, but a murder derailed our travel plans just a bit. So, instead, my cousin Mags showed up here and is staying through the end of the month.

Mags is a hoot, and we all love her. She and I have so much in common and look so much alike that I sometimes wonder if we’re not actually twins instead of just cousins.

She’s a couple years older than me, though, and as far as I can tell, she’s completely normal. Her family owns a candle shop in her town’s historic district, and she’s promised to teach Nan and me how to make our own candles before she heads back home.

We have lots to do before that happens, though.

For one thing, it’s almost Christmas. Nan keeps all of us busy with the custom advent calendar she made at one of her community art classes, and today we’re also scheduled to head into town for the twelfth annual Holiday Spectacular!

The Holiday Spectacular is a time-honored tradition for our small town of Glendale. People come from all over Blueberry Bay to gather around the big tree downtown, compete in the ice sculpture competition, and celebrate Christmas with the staggering variety of small businesses downtown.

We get everything from hot cocoa stations to learning Christmas carols from around the world to meeting local authors and getting signed books from them to…

Well, each year is completely different, and that’s what makes it so much fun. I can’t wait to show Mags my hometown at its best. I hope she’ll love it every bit as much as I do.

Hey, look at that, it’s time to go find out!

I smacked my lips together after dragging my new cranberry red lip stain across them. Perfect for the holidays. Normally, I wore very little makeup, since my clothes made enough of a statement without any outside help. Lately, though, Nan had begun insisting I put a little more effort into my appearance. She claimed it was for all the holiday festivities, but I suspected she secretly hoped that my glamorous new efforts might rub off on my cousin, Mags.

It’s not that Mags was plain, but she did prefer a simple, non-fussy wardrobe. While working in her family’s candle shop in the historic district, she actually wore old-fashioned clothing with big skirts and a bonnet—and I suspected that was all the fuss she could handle. I didn’t blame her for wanting to keep it easy during her leisure time.

Mags’s signature knock sounded at my bedroom door—three short, one long, two short again.

“Come in!” I called, turning away from the mirror and toward the door.

Mags wore a white button-down shirt and white skirt with white flats. Her white-blonde hair fell midway down her waist, and her fair skin had not a stitch of makeup on it. She looked like a snow angel... or a ghost.

“Can I borrow an outfit from you today?” she asked with a frown. “I think I’m letting Nan down with my color choices.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry about Nan. I let her down constantly. She still loves us both, though.”

“She offered to let me wear something from her wardrobe, but Angie—” Mags dropped her voice to a whisper and motioned for me to lean closer. “Everything’s hot pink!”

We broke apart in giggles.

“Seriously, though, please help a cousin out,” she begged, joining her hands in front of her and shaking them at me.

I skipped toward the closet, loving every minute of having my long-lost cousin here. I couldn’t believe we had less than a week left together. I was going to miss her so much when she went back home.

“How’s this?” I asked, tossing a Santa-print party dress at her. It was the same one I’d worn when we took the pets to get their pictures done with Santa at the pet shop in Dewdrop Springs. While it was one of my favorites, I had tons of holiday wear that hadn’t made it out of the closet yet this year.

That was the thing about doing most of my shopping at Good Will: everything was so cheap and went toward a good cause, so I had zero issue indulging my addiction. Today I wore a pair of jeans with the ugliest Christmas sweater I owned—it had giant pom-poms stuck in a huge ring to form a three-dimensional Christmas wreath, complete with jingle bells and a giant satin ribbon.

It was wretched, and I adored it.

“This is perfect,” Mags said after a quick appraisal of the dress.

“Goes good with pigtails,” I said.

She turned crimson. “I think that’s perhaps a little too much for today.”

Octo-Cat trotted in with Paisley following close behind.

“Mommy, you look gorgeous!” the Chihuahua cried.

“One day that sweater will be mine,” my tabby swore. “You can’t tell me that’s not meant to be a cat toy. Look at all those mischievous floofs!”