“Not if I can help it,” I said amicably, even though that wasn’t entirely true. While I definitely spent a few hours reading in my library each week, the fact I hadn’t managed to book any clients to fulfill the office function of the space depressed me. Most days I found it easier to read in my bedroom rather than face my own inadequacy as a private investigator.
Well, that all changed right here, right now, and all thanks to the blessed woman before me.
“Nan says you have a case,” I started once Julie had settled onto the leather fainting couch opposite my large walnut desk and swivel chair. “Catch me up.”
Octo-Cat paced the perimeter of the room, trying—and failing—to act naturally. We’d have to talk about that later.
“I do.” Julie glanced toward the tabby, then turned back to me and cleared her throat. “For the past couple of weeks, mailboxes on my route have been getting vandalized. And mail I know I delivered is also getting reported as never having reached its destination. I know I’m not making any mistakes, but I’m on thin ice at work. The office is blaming me and threatening to put me on administrative leave or even dock my pay to cover the cost of replacing the mailboxes.”
I reached forward and touched her knee sympathetically. “That’s horrible.”
If I wanted to be a good investigator, I needed a good rapport with my clients just as much as I needed my sleuthing skills. Luckily, I’d always adored Julie and considered her—if not quite a friend—a well-liked acquaintance.
Even Octo-Cat appeared moved by her story. He stopped patrolling and jumped up beside her on the couch, then rubbed his head against her hand asking for pets.
“What a sweet kitty,” Julie remarked, which was enough to send him skittering away just as quickly as he’d come. Nobody called him kitty and got away with it. Our guest was just lucky he wasn’t in a swiping mood.
We both watched Octo-Cat settle himself in the window seat and scowl at us from across the room.
“So, you need us to find out who’s taking the mail and damaging the mailboxes so that you won’t keep getting blamed for it,” I summarized.
Julie nodded vigorously, then frowned. “Yes, that would be fantastic. But if you don’t want to help me, I’ll understand.”
“Why wouldn’t we want to help?” My breathing hitched as I waited for her response. The case seemed pretty open and shut, so what could be the problem?
Julie hung her head and let a lone tear fall to her lap. “I can’t pay anything for your help. Ever since the kiddos started college, I’ve had to live paycheck to paycheck, and I’m still drowning in debt. I can’t afford to lose this job, but I also can’t afford to pay you to help me keep it.”
“She expects us to work for free?” Octo-Cat hissed in agitation. “Thank you, next! Move along, sis.”
I glared at him before turning back to Julie with a grin. “We’d be happy to help. No payment required.”
Julie raised her eyes to meet mine, the hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Are you sure? I know it’s asking a lot. I wouldn’t have even thought to ask, but Dorothy insisted and—”
I raised my hand to cut her off. “Totally sure.”
“No, no, no,” Octo-Cat pouted. “What kind of hobbyist works for free? I thought we were running a legitimate operation here?”
I shook my head. Sometimes it was so hard not to talk back to him in the presence of those who didn’t know about our secret connection.
“Totally sure,” I said again, keeping my eyes glued to the irate tabby the whole time.
And now less than fifteen minutes after it started, my meeting with Julie came to an end. “I have to go,” she said, rising to her feet and offering me her hand to shake. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help. I promise I’ll find a way to repay you someday soon.”
“You better!” Octo-Cat spat.
“It’s no problem,” I said with a smile to balance out his obvious agitation. “Our P.I. practice is just that, a practice. We’re happy for the opportunity to keep our skills top-notch.”
Julie sighed wistfully. “It’s really sweet, you and Dorothy doing this together. I hope one day when my girls are a little further away from their teen phase, they’ll want to hang out with me even half as much as you do with your nan.”
I laughed. “Nan’s not really a part of the firm, but we do love spending time together. I’m sure your daughters will come around soon enough.”
“She’s not? Then what’s with all the we and us talk?”
“Oh, um, it’s more like the royal we. I’m the sleuth, but I do bring in outside experts as needed.” I hoped she didn’t notice the way I stumbled over my words and practically tripped coming down the stairs from the shock of my mishap.
I really needed to stop including Octo-Cat when speaking with others. Even the casual we could eventually expose my secret. And as someone who uncovered secrets for a living—you know, theoretically—you’d think I’d be better at hiding them.
“The royal we, indeed,” my cat sneered as he followed us down the stairs.
“Dorothy has my number,” Julie said, lingering near the door. “Thank you again for your help.
“Done already?” Nan appeared, wiping her hands on the edge of her frilly pink polka dot apron.
“I’m in good hands with Angie taking on my case. Thank you for putting us together.”
Nan beamed with obvious pride. “Oh, I’m so glad. Please tell me you’ll stay for dinner. It’s nearly ready.”
“I really can’t, but thank you for the invite.” Julie nodded toward Nan and shook my hand a second time, then excused herself from our home.
“And stay out!” Octo-Cat called as the door latched shut behind her.
Chapter Five
“That was fast,” Nan remarked a second time as I followed her into the kitchen. Even I had to admit that it seemed as if Julie couldn’t wait to get out of here. Was that simply because she had other plans, or could there be another less savory reason? Gosh, I hoped she hadn’t hired us to clear her name for crimes she had, in fact, committed.
No, no. I shook my head and let out a deep breath. How could I even think these things about Julie? She’d always been kind to us, always been reliable and, as best I could tell, honest.
“Looks like you have lots on your mind.” Nan pulled vegetables from the fridge and dropped them beside a clean cutting board. “Fill me in while you fix our salad,” she said, returning to her place of honor at the stove.
I washed the lettuce, then put it in the spinner. Not to brag, but I’d gotten quite good at preparing our nightly veggies. Mostly because Nan didn’t trust me with anything that required heat to prepare. Not after the burnt brisket fiasco of 2019.
“There’s not much to tell,” I said thoughtfully. “Someone’s stealing mail and banging up mailboxes.”
“Oh, I knew that.” Nan moved toward the fridge and grabbed a stick of butter. “It’s why I suggested you two to get together. Did she have anything else to say?”
I kept my focus fixed firmly on the salad. “Only that she’s not able to pay. I told her that’s fine, but Octo-Cat is pretty rankled about it.”
“Well, of course he is. Such a crabby tabby.” She turned and stuck her tongue out at Octo-Cat, who was sitting by his empty food bowl and scowling. I knew better than to feed him early, though. He’d be even more upset by the change in schedule than he’d become when he found out we wouldn’t be getting paid for our first case.
“Well, excuse me for having standards,” the cat said drolly. “And self-respect.”
What a drama queen.
“Well, it’s a good thing his trust fund is more than enough to cover our half of the mortgage and expenses.”
“Indeed,” Nan said, bobbing her head.
Octo-Cat let out a low growl but didn’t add any words to further express his displeasure with me and the situation.
Nan and I worked in silence for a few minutes, each enjoying the peace that came with chopping, stirring, and plating up. That’s when I remembered something from my past that may help with Julie’s case.