“How about a bird, darling? Or a deer, my dear? Ooh, maybe a mountain lion!” He lost his phony accent on that last one, but I was still ridiculously charmed by him.
“Ha, ha,” I said, willing my heart to stop beating so hard against my rib cage.
Charles bumped his shoulder into mine and sent that poor, overworked organ of mine galloping off at full speed again. “No, really. Who should we be looking for?”
“Well, the birds won’t talk to me. Way too skittish,” I informed him, still very much aware of how closely we walked beside each other. “I’m not sure what else is in the forest, and I’ve never talked to any of them before, so I just really don’t know.”
“C’mon,” he said, extending his hand to me as we reached the edge of the tree line. “Let’s go find out.”
My pulse quickened as I took his hand. I knew he was just being gentlemanly, but at the same time, I’d been carrying a bit of a torch for the guy for the past several months. He didn’t seem to have the slightest clue I felt how I did, given that he had a girlfriend and I was the one with the ace sleuthing skills.
But still. Still! My heart whomped wildly as I searched the trees and ground for any animal who might be willing to talk to us.
“Let’s go deeper,” Charles said, tugging me along.
“I’ve heard there are bears here if we go deep enough.” A shiver ran through me as I imagined coming face-to-face with the most fearsome predator in all of Blueberry Bay. For some reason, bears didn’t strike me as the type to talk through their problems—especially not with a meddlesome human such as myself.
“I ain’t afraid of no bears,” Charles said in a sing-song voice. “Boy Scouts taught me how to take care of that.”
I couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled to the surface. “Ran into lots of bears in California, did you?”
“Tons,” he confirmed, giving my hand a quick, playful squeeze.
A twig snapped several feet away, and our eyes both zoomed to the location. A light brown doe stood ramrod straight and perfectly still, her dark eyes boring into mine. I could feel her fear, sense the internal debate that raged within her as she tried to decide whether it would be better to stay frozen or make a run for it.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” I whispered evenly, but that was enough to send her zigzagging through the trees and out of our view.
“I won’t hurt you!” I yelled after her. “I won’t hurt any of you. Please won’t somebody talk to me?”
Another twig snapped nearby. The leaves rustled under the weight of some kind of creature approaching us quickly from behind.
Charles stretched his arms out and blocked me with his body in a move so sudden it almost seemed as if he hadn’t needed to think about it at all.
“Are you sure you’re not afraid of bears?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood even though I was still more than a little frightened myself. I’d been caught off guard in these woods before, and a strange man had grabbed hold of my arms and covered my mouth. Obviously, I’d lived to tell the tale, but I didn’t trust my chances if Charles and I really did run into the infamous Blueberry Bay bears.
Everything fell quiet.
Charles and I both waited in silence.
And then a blur of brown burst into view.
“Is that my peanut butter?” Maple squeaked, jumping from tree to tree in excitement and leaving me to wonder how one little squirrel had managed to make so much noise.
“Yes, it’s yours,” I said, squatting down to offer the jar. “But first I want to know what you found out for me.”
Maple bolted toward me, stopping just short of my knees. “About what?”
“Um. About my missing cat?”
“Your cat is missing. Oh, no!”
I hoped squirrels weren’t good at reading human emotions, because my disappointment was most definitely evident in that moment. Had Maple really forgotten everything we’d talked about already?
“Here,” I said with a sigh as I unscrewed the cap of the peanut butter and handed the jar to the forgetful little squirrel. “Take it. It’s yours.”
Charles and I both watched as Maple pushed the peanut butter onto its side and rolled it away with a series of euphoric squeaks and shouts.
“C’mon,” I said. “I don’t think we’re going to find what we’re looking for out here.”
I hated to admit defeat, but I also hated wasting time when Octo-Cat needed me. What was the point of explaining the situation to Maple when she would just forget again the second we said goodbye?
Maybe I should try to find that buck. If it meant getting my cat back, then it would be worth the risk…
Chapter Eight
“Back so soon?” Nan asked when Charles and I trudged into the house an hour after departing. Even our brief outing, however, had seemed to take forever. Charles had insisted we give our forest investigation a solid effort before calling it a total bust. But even he could see we weren’t making any progress, despite the fact he couldn’t talk with the animals himself.
“Yeah,” I grumbled, kicking my shoes off by the door. “We accomplished absolutely nothing. How’d you guys fare?”
“I sent Cal home,” Nan said with a dramatic sigh, anger flitting across her normally controlled features. “He lost at least ten points in my book when he suggested we find an Octo-doppelgänger. Talk about a terrible idea!”
Well, I couldn’t disagree with her there. Joke or not, what Cal had said hurt us both, and it would have enraged Octo-Cat had he been around to hear it.
Nan now sat alone in the living room with a giant sheet of poster board sprawled across the floor in front of her. A row of colorful Sharpie markers lay nearby, and she clutched an angry-looking red one tightly in her hand.
“What are you doing?” Charles asked, moving in for a closer look.
“And where did you get all these crafting supplies?” I added as I trudged along after him.
Nan kept her attention on the spread before her as she explained, “I always keep a stash nearby. You never know when you’re going to need to papier-mâché or pottery wheel your way out of a disaster.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, of course,” I said, making sure Charles caught my giant eyeroll. I loved Nan dearly, but sometimes her priorities seemed a bit out of whack—like deciding to play matchmaker when we had a missing cat to find.
She lowered the marker to the bright yellow poster board and began to write while she mumbled, “I’m gathering all the facts we have so far in one place and all our suspicions, too. Consider this poster board command central. Now, look here. Red is for the things we know for sure. Blue is for the things we aren’t quite sure of yet.”
“And black?” Charles asked as he reached for the last marker.
“Black are ideas we’ve already eliminated. Things we know for sure aren’t true,” Nan said, bobbing her head as she continued to write in large, looping letters, then stopped to yank the Sharpie away from Charles. “That’s mine, thank you very much.”
“Nan…” I warned. Even though she had raised me, sometimes I felt like the mom in our relationship.
Charles just laughed it off. When he’d finished, we both stood in silence watching as Nan completed her project.
“Okay, kids. It’s time to get serious here,” Nan said a few minutes later after she’d finished making her list and recapped the final marker.
“What do we know so far?” I asked. The poster board had remained depressingly light on text, showing just how far we had yet to go.
Nan straightened up tall and folded her hands in her lap. “Octo-Cat is missing. Fact,” she began. “He disappeared between the hours of ten and one yesterday. Fact. He may have been taken against his will. Suspicion. A letter also arrived yesterday announcing the arbitration thingy. Fact. It could be related. Suspicion.”