Molly Fitz: Raccoon Racketeer

“Are you okay?” I asked gently.

She shook her head. “Not really. No.”

“Can we talk about it?” I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook me off.

Nan took a deep breath, then retreated into herself. I’d never seen her look so old or broken, and it worried me greatly. Tears rimmed her red eyes. “I never thought I’d have to speak of it again, especially not to you.”

“I’m here, and I love you, no matter what.”

She shook her head sadly. “It will change things, Angie.”

“It already has,” I whispered as I attempted to hold back fresh tears of my own.

Nan looked away and murmured, “I can’t.” Then brushed past me into the house.

Guilt surged inside my chest. Maybe this was one mystery that didn’t need to be solved. Maybe I just needed to leave it alone and move on with my life the way things had been before Pringle showed me that secret letter.

I wished I could turn away, but I was already in too deep. This wasn’t a simple curiosity; it was my life.

And I needed to know the truth.

Chapter Sixteen

After Nan abandoned me in the garage, I went back to sit on the porch. Lately, I’d been spending more time out here than inside the house, it seemed.

Paisley ambled after me, wagging her tail as usual, but slowly, cautiously. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Although she couldn’t communicate with Nan like she did me, I still felt uncomfortable saying anything bad about her best friend, the woman who had rescued her from the overcrowded shelter and given her a home.

Where was Nan now? Had she made it to her room? Had she spotted the mess made by the animals and known I was the one to put them up to it? Would she ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive her?

“I just feel sad,” I told the sympathetic Chihuahua at last.

“Sometimes I get sad,” the little dog said, snuggling onto my lap. “But then you know what I do? I decide to stop being sad and just be happy instead.”

I smiled and scratched her between the ears. “That’s very smart, Paisley. Hey, did you and Nan have a nice adventure?”

I was more looking for a change of topic than any additional dirt on Nan, but then it occurred to me that if I asked the right questions, Paisley might be able to crack this case wide open. She was with Nan practically every waking hour—slept in her room, too. How much did she pay attention? How much did she know?

She closed her eyes and rolled over on my lap to expose her belly for scratches. “The car ride was great, and I liked smelling the new smells, but I would have rather been home, all of us together.”

“Aww, I know how you feel. Where did the two of you go?” I asked, unable to resist.

She squinted one eye open. “I’m not sure. It was a small clean room with a big bed. Nan and I cuddled and slept a lot. We also watched TV quite a bit. I know Octavius likes it, but I think it’s pretty boring just watching things happen in a small glass box. I’d much rather be doing them myself.”

“Yet another smart observation,” I said with a sad smile. It sounded like Nan had holed up in some kind of a motel rather than talk to me. Fabulous.

I sighed and continued to stroke the happy little dog. She trusted so easily, so completely. Why couldn’t I be like that? I had no doubt she was the most contented among us, and it wasn’t because ignorance was bliss. Paisley was incredibly smart, yet somehow still able to push all her problems to the side and choose happiness each and every day.

We sat like that for a while until Pringle appeared from the side yard and bolted up the steps, which immediately sent Paisley barking.

She bounded off my lap and stood guard beside me, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! The big bad raccoon is back!”

The raccoon groaned and shook his head. “Are we really going to do this every time? Every single time?” he asked me with an exhausted huff.

“It’s okay, Paisley.” I picked her back up and set her on my lap.

She whined but stayed in place.

Pringle came closer, something small and rectangular clutched in one hand.

“What did you find, Pringle?”

The pet door beeped, and Octo-Cat stepped out to join us. “What a thrill!” he exclaimed. “I really thought we were going to be caught there for a second.”

Pringle put an arm around the tabby and smiled. “Stick with me, kid. Every day’s an adventure.”

Both laughed.

Crud. For the sake of this case, it was nice that they’d managed to put their differences aside, but going forward? Pringle wasn’t exactly the best influence on my somewhat sweet, somewhat bitter tabby cat.

“Can I see what you have there?” I asked again, reaching out my hand.

“Certainly.” The raccoon placed an old photograph in my hand. I immediately recognized a much younger Nan but didn’t know the man who stood at her side with a cheesy grin and two deep dimples to match.

“We found it tucked into the corner of the mirror. Right out in the open,” Octo-Cat informed me, a self-satisfied smile stretching between his whiskers.

“Go ahead. Flip it over,” Pringle urged.

“Dorothy and William, summer 1968,” I read aloud and gasped. “William? That’s him?”

Pringle nodded and shrugged. “Seems so.”

Right out in the open, just as Octo-Cat had said. I probably could have discovered this picture a dozen times if I’d ever stopped to study the collage of keepsakes she kept tucked into the edges of the mirror that hung above her dresser.

“They’re holding hands,” Octo-Cat pointed out. “Like you and UpChuck do all the time.”

“She seems smitten,” I said breathlessly as I noticed the way her eyes shone, the coy smile that played at her lips as she stared at him dreamily. “Like she loved him.”

“Sad to say, doesn’t look like he feels the same way,” Pringle pointed out, and he was right about that, too. William stood stiff, his eyes focused in the distance rather than at my lovesick nan.

Octo-Cat traipsed over and sat down beside me. “He’s right. When you’re with UpChuck, you look just like that.” He touched his nose down onto the portrait of Nan. “But so does he. This guy looks happy, but not in love. Not like you and UpChuck or Baby and Johnny. Not even like Harry and Sally, and we all know what a mess their relationship was in the beginning.”

“Who are Harry and Sally?” Paisley asked, giving her friend a lick hello.

Octo-Cat rolled his eyes lovingly. “Yeesh. I have a lot to catch you up on, dog,” he said as if the events of his movie marathoning were an actual part of real life. Crazy cat.

I glanced back down at the photo and frowned.

Was Nan hiding a broken heart? A sad tale of unrequited love? It still didn’t explain the letter or the birth certificate. Had William used his hold on her emotions to make her do something awful?

“Poor Nan,” I whispered.

Paisley whined, even though I wasn’t sure she knew why we were sad in that moment.

The other two said nothing.

We sat like that for a while as I considered my next move. The animals had been a huge help so far, but I needed a second opinion—a human opinion.

“I’m calling Charles,” I informed them. Yes, Charles. He wasn’t just the love of my life; he was also the smartest and most hardworking person I knew. He didn’t become the youngest law firm partner in Blueberry Bay history by phoning it in.

I was afraid I’d reached a dead end, but maybe he’d be able to shed some new light on these old secrets from the past.

At the very least, he could give me the hug I so desperately needed to give me the strength to keep going.

Chapter Seventeen

Charles came home from work early so we could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening going over everything I’d learned during the past couple of days.