The raccoon ran up the porch steps, climbed the railing, and plucked the paper from my hands. “That’s mine,” he said then tucked it under his armpit before running back to the yard and out of my reach.
I placed both my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at him. “Actually, it’s mine.”
“Finders, keepers.” The smile that crept across his face now was far worse than his earlier show of aggression.
“What? No!” I cried. Just as I’d never hurt him, I knew Pringle would never cause me physical harm. At the moment, I was feeling rather emotionally attacked, however.
“Mommy, do you want me to chase the big bad raccoon away?” Paisley wagged her tail in excitement, refusing to take her eyes off the masked thief for even a second.
“Oh, no, sweetie, you don’t have to…” My words trailed away as I watched Pringle dive into the newly distributed leaves and gather up the remaining flyers.
“Actually,” I said, changing my mind in an instant. “Go for it.”
The little tri-color dog took off like a shot, barking at the top of her lungs. “Hey, you! Nobody messes with my mommy!”
Pringle lowered himself to all fours and shook his head. “Call off your hound. Let’s discuss this like the civilized creatures I know at least one of us is.”
Paisley ran a wide arc around the yard and then returned to my side. “He’s still there,” she pouted, then instantly brightened again. “Should I try again, Mommy?”
I smiled and bent down to pet her silky fur. “You did great. Thank you.” Rising again, I marched straight over to Pringle. “Okay, let’s hear it. Why did you take all my flyers?”
“They’re pretty,” he explained, hugging the disheveled stack to his chest. “I like pretty things.”
“But they weren’t here. I put them up all over town. How did you even…?”
He shrugged. “So I hitched a ride. Sometimes I like to go on adventures, too, you know? It would be nice if I didn’t have to invite myself, but since you’re not doing the job.” He shrugged again. If I wasn’t mistaken, the beginnings of tears had formed in the corners of his giant black eyes. Strange how sometimes my animal friends seemed more human than any of the people I knew.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I squatted down to face him head on. “I didn’t know you wanted to come, too.”
“Of course I wanted to come!” he shouted. “I like adventures just as much as the next forest animal, you know.”
I chose not to mention that distributing flyers begging for work was hardly an adventure. “Tell you what, next time we’ll invite you along, too. Deal?” Or at least the next time after I’d had a chance to cool down. As it was, he’d wasted a day and a half of hard work when I’d have given him colored paper had he just asked for it.
Pringle shook his head and eyed me warily. “Not quite.”
I waited, refusing to add fuel to his flaming theatrics. I got enough of this from Octo-Cat, and frankly I liked him far more than this nuisance raccoon who’d become a frenemy at best.
Pringle sighed. “I’m keeping the pretty papers.”
“Why do you even need them?” I asked with a groan.
“I’m taking up origami, and these will do very nicely.” Pringle turned his nose up so high I could only see chin, then he marched straight back to his under-porch apartment.
How did he even know origami was a thing?
And how did he know enough to want to attempt it himself?
What an odd animal.
“See, Mommy! I scared him away!” Paisley sat proudly on the edge of the porch, shaking so hard with excitement that I hadn’t the heart to tell her that Pringle had played us rather than other way around.
“That guy…” Octo-Cat plopped himself down beside the Chihuahua. “He’s getting way too big for his britches.”
I couldn’t agree more, but for the moment I was done discussing the masked menace. We had too much else we could be doing with our day.
“C’mon, you two,” I said with a sigh. “It looks like we need to come up with a new advertising plan.”
As the three of us filed back indoors, a new determination overtook me. My P.I. business would succeed or fail based on its own merits. I would not let an egotistical raccoon with delusions of grandeur stand between me and the role I just knew I was meant to play in this world—or at least in my small corner of it.
“I know that look,” Octo-Cat said with an open-mouthed smile that showed off his pointy teeth. “Nobody puts Angie in a corner.”
I snorted at that one, picturing myself in the classic 80s romance opposite Patrick Swayze. Even though he used to watch only Law & Order, he’d greatly expanded his viewing habits in recent months. Largely, thanks to my nan.
And while I appreciated my cat’s support, I definitely needed to start limiting his television time.
Chapter Three
As it turned out, my cat wasn’t the only one watching too much television these days. Normally, Nan would spend most of her mornings in the kitchen as she did the food prep for the day and whipped up treat after delectable treat for us to enjoy with our daily tea. Today, however, the kitchen sat empty, pristinely clean, and completely abandoned.
“Nan?” My voice felt disturbingly loud as it echoed through the empty manor.
When no response came, I raced to the garage to check if her little red sports car was still parked snugly inside. She often left after lunchtime to volunteer or take a community class, but she generally informed me before heading off. Besides, if she’d left the house early today, I should have seen her from my place on the front porch.
Well, her car sat waiting in the garage, right where it belonged.
So then where was my nan?
Paisley stood on her hindlegs and patted my leg with her tiny clawed feet. “I can still smell her close by. Want me to show you where she is?”
As soon as I nodded, the little dog bolted up the stairs and began scratching at the door to one of the bedrooms we didn’t use.
“Nan?” I called cautiously before pushing it wide open.
Paisley raced in before me, and Octo-Cat slinked in after.
Nan, however, was still nowhere to be seen.
“Paisley, are you sure she’s here?” I asked, seriously beginning to worry now.
“Oh, yes! Up there!” She ran over to the closet and began to jump and do clumsy side flips, not stopping until I looked up and noticed the open attic hatch.
I craned my neck to try to see inside. “Nan?”
She appeared in a cloud of dust. The bright silk scarf on her head featured an emoji print, and she wore cat-eye sunglasses, presumably to protect her eyes from all the floating dust motes. “Oh, hello, dear.”
“What are you doing up there?” I demanded, not any less worried now that I’d found her in a potentially dangerous situation. “How did you even get up there?”
“Just sorting through some things. I started with my bedroom but wasn’t quite ready to call the whole thing quits for the day just yet.” She turned away and crawled out of view.
“Call what quits?” I shouted after her.
“I didn’t know we had a higher place,” Octo-Cat remarked, then dropped low and wiggled his butt, making an impressive leap toward the hatch.
His front paws grazed the entrance but couldn’t get a grip.
“Ouch,” he moaned after he fell clumsily back to the ground.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, attempting to stroke and soothe him.
He flinched and slinked away from my hand. “My poor pride,” he whined. “What kind of a cat can’t stick the landing? Ouch.”
“Oh, Octo-friend. Can I kiss your ouchies?” the dog offered, licking her lips in anticipation.
“Insult to injury,” my cat muttered.