“We’ll take my car,” Nan declared. Her little red sports car was less than discreet, but arguing would get me nowhere, seeing as she’d already committed to whatever role she planned to play tonight. Maybe a silver-haired female James Bond? I guess that made me the bimbo sidekick.
We parked downtown and sipped on matching thermoses filled with hot chocolate. Octo-Cat complained heartily from his place in the tiny, cramped backseat.
“Watch for anything suspicious,” Nan instructed in a cautious whisper, even though no one was around to hear either of us. “Keep an eye out for anyone nosing around the lair or entering one of the shops after closing time,” she further clarified.
“How long are we going to stay out here?” I asked with a yawn.
“As long as it takes,” she answered, her jaw set with determination. “We can sleep in shifts if we have to.”
Well, that didn’t sound fun at all. Hopefully our magical crooks would reveal themselves quickly so we could go home and snag a proper night’s sleep.
Time passed slowly as Nan recounted the plots of all her favorite action flicks. Downtown Glendale slowly stilled as the businesses shut down for the night and people headed home. Other than the odd stray dog that galloped past, no one came or went. Nothing happened.
That is, until something did.
A clanging alarm sounded just down the street, and bright lights flooded the darkness. I recognized the jewelry store at once. Nan wasted no time reversing more than a half dozen parking spots bringing us to idle right in front the shop with the triggered security system. Despite the alarms and the lights, I couldn’t see anyone inside.
Officer Bouchard showed up a few minutes later, sirens blaring just as they had Friday night. “You again,” he said upon spotting me.
“It’s a coincidence,” I said, putting my hands up in mock surrender. “I promise.”
“We were on a stakeout,” Nan said, setting her mouth in a firm line.
“We just wanted to help,” I said quickly. “See if we could catch the robber in action.”
“And you brought your cat with you?” he asked, spying Octo-Cat through the open car window.
“I’m just really attached to him,” I said between clenched teeth as Octo-Cat preened in my peripheral vision. “But I didn’t see who broke in.”
“The owner’s on the way,” Officer Bouchard explained. “But I think it’s best that you clear out before he gets here.”
Nan tapped her temple and smiled up at the handsome policeman. “Smart,” she said. “We’re the only witnesses, so naturally he’ll suspect us.”
I glanced back toward the lair and thought I saw a dark figure disappear around the alley. I wanted to go investigate but couldn’t make Officer Bouchard any more suspicious of us than he already was.
As a compromise, I ducked my head back into the car and spoke in a low hush. “Octo-Cat, I saw someone or something by the lair,” I whispered. “Can you go check it out?”
“On it,” he said, sneaking out through the open window that faced the street.
“Thank you for your time, Officer,” Nan cooed, shameless flirt that she was. “I know you’re very busy and important, and it always feels nice when you take a little extra time out from your day for us.”
“No more stakeouts,” the cop called after her as he walked away. “You hear me?”
Nan gave a salute, then sank into the driver’s seat.
I pressed the button to roll up the front windows and then whispered, “Stall for a few minutes. Octo-Cat is checking something out for us real quick.”
Nan made a great show of fumbling her keys and taking inventory of the various supplies and activities she’d brought for our big stakeout. When at last Octo-Cat climbed back through the window, she gave a friendly wave and then peeled off into the night.
“What was it?” I asked my cat.
“Nothing,” he said as if he still had a hard time believing it. “Absolutely nothing at all.”
How could we have missed everything when it had happened right before our eyes?
It seemed the only thing our stakeout had accomplished is making me even more afraid of the magical forces that had taken hold of my hometown.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning I woke up to Nan wearing a velour jogging suit with the word sassy written across her tush. A matching pink sweatband pushed her gray curls out of her face, and she held a metallic purple water bottle clutched firmly in one hand.
“The stakeout continues?” I asked, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
She stretched her arms overhead and then bent to touch her toes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered with a wink while stretching both arms to one side and then the other. “I’m just headed into town to do a little exercise. Keeps me young and spry.”
“Well, don’t forget to take the cat with you,” I said, doing my best to hide the smirk that slithered its way across my face. “His harness is on one of the hooks in the laundry room.”
I finished getting ready for work, and Nan and I had a quick breakfast together before saying goodbye. Octo-Cat, however, flatly refused to speak to me—the harness being one of the few things in this world he hated more than dogs. His irritation aside, Nan really did need his help on her investigation. A leashed-up cat might make her a bit of an inconspicuous character, but her snooping would have been obvious even without the cranky feline partner. At least now she’d have a second set of eyes and ears to help her out.
As for me? I had to go all by myself to face Peter yet again.
Fortunately I, too, had an operative planned for that day. It definitely wasn’t like me to keep forgetting, so I grabbed the digital voice recorder Nan liked to use to record her monologues, popped in a pair of fresh batteries, and tucked the device into the corner of my bra. Once at work, I’d turn it on and record everything that happened that day. I mean, nobody could tamper with my evidence if they didn’t know it was there, right?
God bless my giant boobs. Usually they were just a pain in my back, but today they’d finally serve some kind of actual purpose. Maybe James Bond had more than one reason for keeping all those ample-bosomed sidekicks around, after all.
Whatever happened next, I was ready. We all were.
That morning, Peter arrived at the firm before I did, a fact that didn’t quite feel consistent with the rest of his personality, now that I thought about it. I said hello, then slipped into the bathroom to power on my recorder.
“Did you have a good night?” I asked Peter conversationally when I returned to settle into our shared desk.
He groaned and shifted abruptly in his chair to face me. “I know you saw me, so cut the BS. What part of drop it don’t you understand?”
“Drop what?” I asked casually. Meanwhile, my heart thrummed inside my chest. Was I close enough to the truth that he’d finally tell me what he knew?
Apparently not, because his expression grew venomous as he said, “Just back off, all right?”
I folded my arms across my chest in defiance and spun toward him in my twirly office chair. Our knees were less than an inch apart as I leaned even closer and captured Peter with my most determined glare.
“You’re the one who pushed me first. Why would you do that if you didn’t want to talk about…?” I paused for a brief moment before settling on, “Um, what we have in common.”
He curled both hands into fists, and for a second there, I truly thought he might punch me. But then he sighed, released some of the tension, and whispered, “This is not the place to have this conversation.”
I had him on edge. That had to count for something. Heck, maybe if I pushed a little harder, he’d teeter right over, yelling all his secrets on the way down.
I refused to let him intimidate me. Instead, I jabbed a finger in his chest and ground out, “Maybe not, but you stood me up last time we tried to meet somewhere else, and I’m done taking chances.”