It all felt like far too much.
And while investigating murders was often harrowing, we weren’t usually racing against a clock. The dead would stay that way, no matter how long it took us to solve the murders, but Mags could still be saved.
“I don’t like it when you do that,” Octo-Cat said, turning to look back at me, a sneer on his little kitty face.
“Do what?” I said innocently.
“When you get all panicky. I can smell it, and it’s not a good smell.”
“You mean my stress hormones?”
“Whatever you want to call them. They’re pretty disgusting, and anyway, you always do so much better when you’re able to look at a situation logically. The moment you start freaking out is the moment you’re working with a disadvantage.”
Well…
I was dumbfounded by the insight of his observation and needed a moment to decide how to respond.
Octo-Cat, however, kept going. “We’ve solved how many cases together now? This has got to be number ten or something near that, and each of those times no matter what happened, you figured it out. Well, usually it was me who played the most instrumental role, but you were there, and you helped, just like good assistants do. You’d be of a lot more assistance to me now if you just took a moment to get a grip already. You can treat it like an episode of Law & Order. First, we need to solve the crime, and then we can worry about getting justice for the victims.”
He hummed a melodic beat that I believed was meant to be the Law & Order sound—dun dun—and although I didn’t think everything in our lives could be likened to an episode of his favorite show, this time my cat was absolutely right.
I’d let myself become too fixated on what could happen next. I needed to shift my focus to what we already knew, what had already happened, and then go forward from there.
Taking his advice, I took several deep, steadying breaths as I reviewed the facts of both cases in my mind.
“What are you thinking about?” Charles asked from beside me, chancing a quick glance in my direction while we continued on the road to Cooper’s Cove.
“I’m going over everything we know and trying to look at things logically rather than letting my worry for Mags cloud everything.”
“So you’re relaxing a little?” he asked with a slight grin.
“I’m still crazy worried,” I admitted with a sigh, “but I need to put that aside for everyone’s benefit. Octo-Cat reminded me of that.”
Charles reached over and patted Octo-Cat’s head while moving his other hand to the top of the steering wheel. “He’s a good cat when he wants to be.”
“Yes he is,” I agreed, smiling over at the tabby. “Yes he is…”
“So tell me what you’re thinking,” Charles continued. “Any fresh insights?”
I stayed silent for a minute as I gathered all my thoughts. “I just don’t see a way that the murders and kidnapping can be linked other than the location, which I believe is a coincidence.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “Go on.”
“I don’t even think that both of the murders were planned, so it would be a stretch to add the kidnapping on top of that.”
“And you’ve made a lot of enemies over the last year and a half,” Octo-Cat reminded me with a quick flick of his tail.
I told Charles what the cat had said, and my boyfriend chuckled. “That’s what happens when you’re the good guy. You always ruffle some of the bad guy’s feathers”
Octo-Cat perked up at this analogy, but I focused on asking the next logical question. “But whose feathers would be ruffled enough to try to abduct me?”
“Hmm. Let’s review. First, there were the folks involved with Ethel Fulton’s demise and inheritance dispute.”
Octo-Cat winced. Even though I knew he was happy living with me now, he still missed his original owner every day.
Charles continued to discuss the murderers and other criminals we’d played a role in apprehending, coming up with a list of more than a dozen potential suspects.
“Looks like the cat’s right,” he quipped. “A lot of people have cause to be very angry with you. But who would it benefit to take you now? They’ve already been caught. No changing that now.”
“Most recently, Octo-Cat and I solved the murder on the train and the one in the pet store.”
“The folks from the train were apprehended, correct?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow in my direction.
“Yes, they’re in jail and some of the others we’ve caught are, too.”
Charles nodded thoughtfully. “In jail doesn’t mean not capable. They could have lackies working for them for all we know.”
“So, what you’re saying is we can’t rule anybody out?”
He shook his head sadly. “Nope. Not a single person.”
My phone buzzed from the place where I’d dropped it in Charles’s cup holder after getting in the car.
“It’s Nan,” I cried, quickly answering the call and putting it on speaker.
“Angie, dear!” she shouted into the phone. “It's Mags! They’ve found her! She's safe!”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Oh thank goodness… Thank goodness.” We hadn’t been too late after all.
“We’re on our way," I promised Nan.
“So are we. We’re all going back to the Glendale police station. See you there.”
Chapter Sixteen
We reached the Glendale police station in record time.
Charles swore he didn't go a mile over the speed limit—being the law-abiding lawyer he was—but I'm pretty sure that when I had the chance to sneak a peek at the speedometer, we were going at least ten over.
Then again, all the police were occupied elsewhere as we made our journey toward Mags.
When we got there, Nan and Mr. Milton had already arrived on the scene, and from what I could tell, Mags had just been delivered to the station as well.
“Oh, thank goodness, you’re all right,” I cried, rushing to hug her as tight as I could. A giant wracking sob tore through me once I had her safe in my arms.
We’d been so close to losing each other after only just having been reunited… And I’d been dangerously close to losing her for good.
My cousin stared at me through glassy, unblinking eyes, her face devoid of any rosiness as she regarded me.
“Now, now. Just give her a moment,” the delivering officer commanded. “She's had quite the shock, this one.”
I gulped and took a step back, willing my cousin to speak to me—but she remained perfectly quiet as the rest of us settled in at the station.
Mom and Dad arrived about five minutes after the rest of us and hugged Mags just as tightly as I had.
“Whoa,” the officer said with a kind chuckle. “I hadn't realized we'd be hosting a family reunion right here at the station.”
Mom shot him a cold look, but nobody said anything more. Not until Mags delicately cleared her throat and searched the small room until she found me.
“Angie,” she said, her voice emotionless, disconnected. “Angie,” she repeated with added emphasis. “They didn't want me. They wanted you.”
“I know,” I answered with a nod.
Charles pressed in close, holding Octo-Cat in his arms.
Paisley had already been returned to Nan with a flurry of licks and cuddles.
Mags reached forward now to stroke Octo-Cat’s soft, striped fur. “They kept calling me Russo,” she said, "and I don't think they figured out that I'm not you."
“Who is they? And why did they take you?” As horrible as I felt that this had happened at all, it was even worse to know for sure that it had been my fault.