Mags seemed to wilt more and more the closer we drew to the garden.
“Sorry for dragging you into this,” I offered with an apologetic smile. “But it will be over soon. He just needs the area secured until backup can arrive.”
We reached the sculpture of a crystalline rose that marked the start of the spiral viewing trail. I left Mags there and headed toward the exit.
“Wait! Where are you going?” she called after me, trembling uncertainty returning to her voice.
“I’ll just be over there, keeping an eye on the exit. If you take a few steps out onto the street, you’ll even be able to see me,” I explained calmly. “Text if you need anything, even if it's just to chat and pass the time. We’ll be finished up here before you know it, and then we can let the police handle the rest. Okay?”
Mags nodded, but a row of worry lines stretched across her normally smooth forehead. “Great. But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’d really rather just find Nan and go home as soon as we’re able. I don’t feel so safe anymore.”
As much as I loved the Holiday Spectacular, I loved my cousin so much more and wanted her to leave Blueberry Bay with happy memories instead of horrible ones. I’d do whatever it took to salvage our holiday.
“That’s okay,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll make our own fun. How do fresh-baked cookies and a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie sound for tonight?”
Mags smiled bravely and bobbed her head. “Sounds like a plan, Ms. Pet Whisperer P.I.”
I chuckled as I walked away to take my place at the garden exit. First, though, I dipped into the center to let Officer Bouchard know Mags and I were on duty. Once I’d returned to the end of that red ribbon trail, I pulled out my phone and opened a group text with my mom and dad.
There’s been a murder in the ice sculpture garden.
Officer Bouchard is securing the scene while Mags and I make sure no one wanders in.
After that, we’re going to head home.
Mags is feeling a bit scared by everything.
Can you guys see that Nan gets home okay?
I asked in a series of fast texts.
Both my parents texted back immediately.
“Are you serious?” Mom’s read.
“Are you safe?” Dad asked.
“I’m fine,” I replied, “but I also don’t think we’ll be able to finish our judging duties before heading home.”
“Poor Mags,” Mom lamented with a frowny face emoji. “This is not the best introduction to our quiet corner of the world.”
Although I didn’t say it, I actually thought it was the perfect way to show my new cousin how life had been for us lately. Ever since I first met that snarky talking tabby a year and half ago, my entire life had been one danger, one investigation after the next.
Thanks to us, crime didn’t pay around these parts, but apparently it also didn’t rest. Not even for the holidays.
An incoming call lit up my screen. This one was from Nan. “What’s this I hear about you and Mags leaving early?” she demanded, though her voice remained cheerful.
“Well, the murders kind of cramp the style of our Holiday Spectacular,” I explained in a whisper, making sure none of the people further down the block heard.
“Well, that’s really too bad. Could you do me a quick favor and ask Mags if I can get her anything from the artist’s corner? I’m sure she’d at least like a souvenir or two. Right?”
I heard a deep voice speaking faintly on the other end but couldn’t make out the words. “Who’s there with you, Nan?”
“Just my friend, Mr. Milton,” she answered dismissively. “Now, can you ask Mags about those souvenirs for me, please?”
“Sure, I’ll check with her in a little bit. Right now, we’re guarding the crime scene, and there are two different entrances. It’s not a very good time to—”
“You’re at the ice sculpture garden. Aren’t you? That place isn’t very big. Just run over and ask her so that I know.”
I sighed but still followed her instructions. There was little point in arguing with Nan when she wanted something—especially something quick and relatively easy like this.
Clutching my phone tightly in one hand and Octo-Cat beneath my other arm, I power walked over to the front entrance of the garden with Paisley following close at my heels. I was just rounding the corner when I caught sight of Mags.
Her eyes were wide, and her fair features looked even paler than usual as a hooded figure dragged her into the back of a cargo van, slammed the door, and sped away…
Chapter Seven
I dropped everything I’d been holding into the fresh snowbank at the side of the road and took off running after the van.
“Even though I land on my feet, it still hurts to be dropped, you know,” Octo-Cat shouted after me.
But I had no time to respond. I put everything I had into following that van even though I knew I’d never be able to catch it on foot. Perhaps I would still be able to make out the license plate or catch a glimpse of the driver, something, anything to keep me connected with Mags.
I squinted hard at the departing vehicle, trying so hard. I didn’t wear glasses, but I’d always been a bit nearsighted due to my obsession with reading. And unfortunately for Mags now, I couldn’t make out a single digit beneath the dried mud that coated the plate.
I stopped running and bent over with my hands on my knees, gasping for breath while Paisley continued to run and bark up a storm drawing the curious stares of all who were near.
“Get back here, you bad guy!” the Chihuahua shouted. “It's not nice to take people when they don’t want to be taken. Bad human, bad, bad.”
Once I caught my breath a little, I scanned the downtown area for Octo-Cat but came up short. Maybe he’d gone to get that lobster roll after all, or maybe he was off somewhere nursing his wounded pride—both at having been dropped so unceremoniously into the snow and at having been forced to wear the harness he so loathed.
A burst of bright pink flashed onto the scene. Nan had arrived, and unlike me, she didn’t appear winded in the slightest.
“You dropped this,” she said, pushing my fallen phone into my hand. “And you worried me silly. What happened?”
I couldn’t help the tears that splashed onto my cheeks. It was one thing to find the bodies of people I’d never know and quite another to witness my cousin’s kidnapping firsthand. It had been my job to look after her, to take care of her. And I’d really messed it up.
“They took Mags,” I said, my voice trembling in the same way hers had upon the discovery of the bodies in the ice sculpture garden. “They took her, and they’re gone.” Fresh tears welled, and I choked back a sob as Nan wrapped her arms around me and made a soft shushing sound.
“Oh, dear. Dear. Dear. Dear,” she repeated like a chant.
Her gentleman friend moved closer and placed a hand on Nan’s shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed his arrival earlier, but now here he was, pushing his way into this family moment.
“Who took her?” he asked in a deep rumble.
“I don’t know.” I kept my eyes on Nan instead of looking toward Mr. Milton. “I couldn’t see the face, but they put her into the back of a white van and drove away. I didn’t even get the license plate number.”
“Well, that’s a rotten thing to do and not with keeping the spirit of the season either,” Nan mumbled into my hair. “But we’ll get her back, I promise.”
I fell apart in my grandmother’s arms, asking her the many frantic questions that swirled through my mind. “What if it was the same people who killed the judges? What if they’re going to kill her, too? It's all my fault. She doesn’t even know anyone here. I don’t understand. Why would they take her? I mean, why would anyone want to take Mags, especially someone who doesn’t even know her?”
A small paw patted the back of my calf. I turned around and bent down, expecting to find Paisley, but instead, it was Octo-Cat who sat there looking rather pleased with himself.