Molly Fitz - Raccoon Racketeer

“Survivor!” he quipped somewhere into his umpteenth hour of viewing. “Ha! Put a raccoon in there with them, then you’ll see what a real survivor looks like!”

Pringle had already begun to spend all his time in front of his new TV, which thankfully meant he stayed out of trouble. Well, at least for now.

Brilliantly, Octo-Cat had a fairly easy time convincing the raccoon to join our investigation firm rather than continuing to compete with us.

“Think about it, Pringle,” my cat crooned. “You like secrets. Now your whole job is keeping track of our secrets. In fact, that’s your new job title—Pringle, MSK. Master Secret Keeper.”

“Oooh, that’s even better than P.I.,” he crowed. “It’s got more letters. Better letters!”

Really, all that happened was that we moved our filing cabinets into his rarely used work fort, but at least I knew they were safe there, given the ferocity he used to protect all his favorite treasures.

When Cal had finished building the tree forts, he also fixed the hole in our roof so that no other animals would be able to crawl into our attic. He helped us clear out the space under our porch, too, and then laid down a solid stone base—also to keep the wildlife out. I didn’t mind getting up close and personal with my animal neighbors, but we needed to have at least some boundaries.

Julie, for her part, was incredibly relieved to find that all the missing mail had been accounted for. Her bosses at the post office let her off the hook but made sure to promptly deliver flyers throughout town, warning of highly intelligent and very disturbed forest animals.

Honestly, it made me laugh.

Pringle, too.

When I brought one home to show him, he grabbed it from my hands in delight and then raced around the neighborhood collecting as many as he could for his treasure trove. I had no doubt that he’d eventually turn them all into sloppily constructed origami cranes, provided he stopped watching TV long enough to get to work.

While all this was great, the most important follow-up item still remained. Nan and I needed to reunite the family.

That’s why my mom was here with us now.

Nan had baked all her favorites and encouraged her to dig in while she shared pictures and explained our shared, but until now hidden, past. Pringle had even generously returned the birth certificate and William’s letter to us, so we could show them to her as a way of starting the conversation.

“There’s still a lot we don’t know,” I explained to my mom, who sat stoically, taking it all in. I guess since she was an investigative reporter, she was used to larger-than-life stories like this one. It still couldn’t have made any of this easier.

“I can’t believe it. I have another mother out there,” Mom said with a genuine smile. “What was she like?”

“I didn’t really know her,” Nan explained. “But she was beautiful, just like you.” She bumped my arm. “And you, dear.”

“Can we find her? Can I meet her?” Mom asked with a determined glint in her eyes. She never backed away from a challenge, and that proved true now, too.

“I’m not giving up until we do,” I promised, taking my mom’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “But we have even more family out there, family we haven’t gotten the chance to know yet.”

Nan sucked in a shaky breath, and I offered her a reassuring smile before turning back to my mom and revealing, “I have their phone number. Should we call?”

We caught Mom up on the McAllisters of Larkhaven, Georgia, and the help I’d received from the church receptionist.

“Can we really call them?” Mom asked. “Just like that?”

“Hey, you never know,” I said with a goofy smile. “Maybe they’ve been looking for us, too.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nan said, hugging us both from behind.

“Are you really okay with this?” Mom asked. “It must be so scary for you to go back to that time, that place.”

“I’m not going back,” Nan said with a wistful smile. “Only forward with my two girls.”

Mom nodded, and I punched in the number I’d long since memorized even though this was the first time I was actually placing a call.

It rang three times, and then…

“Hello?” a woman who sounded about Mom’s age answered.

“Is this Linda McAllister?” I asked through happy tears. I already knew what the answer to my question would be. “Because I think we might be related.”

Even though she hadn’t expected our call, we spent over two hours chatting about our lives, growing closer and closer, until there was no doubt in any of our minds that we were, in fact, family.

“So, when are you coming down to Larkhaven to see me?” Linda asked.

“Soon,” I answered with an enormous smile. “Real soon.”

Cats on a train are so much better than snakes on a plane!

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What’s Next?

Ever feel like your entire world has been turned on its head? That’s how I’ve felt ever since the gang and I found out that Nan has been keeping major family secrets stashed neatly away in the attic.

What’s worse, she won’t stop talking about them now that they’re out in the open. I still have so many questions, though. Like is she still the same woman I always assumed she was? And can I ever fully trust her again?

When Nan refuses to give me a straight answer, I invite my parents to join me for a cross-country train trip so that we can all discover the truth, once and for all.

Octo-Cat hitches a ride with us, too, and it’s a good thing he does, because it isn’t long before a dead body joins us in the dining car. Now we have two mysteries to solve, and fast—our lives and legacy depend on it.

HIMALAYAN HAZARD is now available.

CLICK HERE to get your copy so that you can keep reading this series today!

Sneak Peek of Himalayan Hazard

My name’s Angie Russo, and lately my life has taken one dramatic turn after another. Seriously, where can I even begin?

I guess it all starts with my cat.

Think that sounds boring? Well, think again!

My cat can talk. Only to me, but still.

We met at the law firm where I used to work as a paralegal. I never really loved that job, but I did enjoy having food in my fridge and a roof over my head, so I stayed despite being treated like a glorified secretary and not the shrewd researcher I’d worked so hard to become.

We had a will reading scheduled one morning, and I was called in to make some coffee for the attendees. The machine we had was approximately a million years old and unpredictable even on its best day. This was not one of its best days. All I wanted to do was make the cruddy coffee and get back to work, but—lo and behold—I got electrocuted and knocked unconscious instead.

And when I awoke from that zap, I found a striped cat sitting on my chest and making some pretty mean jokes at my expense. Well, as soon as I realized the voice was coming from him and he realized that I could understand what he said, that cat recruited me to help solve the murder of his late owner.

That’s how I and Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq., P.I. became an item. I’ve since shortened his name to Octo-Cat and have become his official owner—although he’d surely tell you that he’s the one who owns me, and, well… he wouldn’t exactly be wrong.