Everyone except for Nan seemed a bit uncomfortable during our impromptu porch meeting. This was made incredibly clear by the fact that no one said anything for several moments.
“Are you okay?” Charles finally asked Nan again, seeing as she hadn’t given him a clear answer upon his arrival. “Your text worried me.”
“Oh. I’m fine, dear,” she responded with a grandmotherly grin. “I’m just so worried about Octo-Cat. You know how it is. He didn’t come home last night, and poor Angie is sick with worry, too. We could both really use some help and a friend through this trying time.”
Well, that at least was true. I pumped my head in agreement. “Sorry to call you out of work,” I muttered by way of apology.
“That’s okay,” Charles said, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze. “This is important.”
Cal shifted his weight between his feet and took a small step back. “Hi, Charles,” he muttered.
“Brock,” the other man said, clamping a hand on his shoulder now, too. “Good to see you, man.”
Things seemed more than a little awkward between them, despite the fact that Charles had gotten Cal acquitted of a double murder charge not too long ago and had been dating Cal’s twin sister for the past several months to boot.
Was the sister thing what made them so tense around each other? And if so, might that mean trouble in paradise? Most importantly, though, why was I so darned happy about that possibility? I needed to quit daydreaming and get back to focusing on finding my lost fur friend.
“I do have a bit of bad news, unfortunately,” Charles said just then, looking from me to Nan and back again. “I exchanged some emails first thing this morning, and needless to say, we can’t get a continuance for the arbitration.”
“Which means?” Nan prompted as she rolled her hand at the wrist impatiently.
Charles sighed. “We need to find Octo-Cat and find him fast. That’s the only way we’ll be able to contest, and believe me, you’ll want to contest.”
“Wait,” Cal said as he lifted his hands in apparent confusion. “The cat is the one who needs to go to court. Not the two of you?”
“The cat,” Charles informed him, “is the beneficiary, so yes, he does need to be present.”
Cal grabbed my hand and gave it a friendly squeeze, then said, “Don’t worry, Angie. I’m sure we’ll find him today, and if we don’t, how hard could it be to find a lookalike to take to court in a pinch?”
My jaw dropped open, and I was too agitated to speak. I wanted to rip my hand away from anyone who would suggest such an awful solution to our problems.
Then Cal burst out laughing. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood with a bit of humor. I guess that joke flopped and flopped bad.”
“It was a big ol’ belly flop,” Nan told him with a wink. “Why don’t you come with me, Cal? We can buddy up for the search. Charles, are you fine escorting Angie?”
I saved my breath rather than try to explain to Nan that I didn’t need an escort for this—or really anything else. It would be nice to spend some time with Charles, to have a partner in the search, especially since I was now losing hope at a depressingly rapid clip.
“We can pick up where we left off last night, or at least by doing what we talked about. Come with me,” Charles said, motioning for me to follow him toward the woods.
The woods!
“Just a second,” I called, darting back into the house and straight past Nan and Cal as I dashed toward the pantry. I found an unopened jar of peanut butter and grabbed it for my new squirrel informant, Maple, making sure to hide it from view as I passed Cal. No need to invite any awkward questions if they could just as easily be avoided.
“Have a craving?” Charles asked with a sarcastic smile when I returned to him.
Heat flooded my cheeks, but then I remembered that Charles knew everything, and I had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. “Let’s just say I owe a squirrel a favor,” I said, making a clicking noise as we fell into step beside one another.
“A squirrel, huh? Did he have any good leads for you?” He asked this as if it were a completely normal and rational development, and I loved him for it.
“She, and not really. But I’ve asked her to be my eyes and ears in the forest, provided she stops thinking about peanut butter long enough to pay attention to anything else.”
Charles chuckled. “Maybe we need to find you a different animal helper. Who do you think would be good at playing detective?” He raised his hand to his chin and rubbed it while making a funny face. He even took on a fake British accent as he ran through the possibilities.
“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…