I couldn’t sleep for the rest of that night. Instead, I hung out in the living room with all the lights off as I watched the yard, hoping our mystery ransom note writer might make a second appearance.
I must have nodded off at some point, because the next thing I knew, Nan was pressing a warm mug of coffee into my hands and telling me to “Sit up and catch me up on whatever it is I missed.”
“What? Oh.” I struggled to straighten myself on the stiff couch, but everything hurt. If the catnapper had made another appearance last night, then I’d surely missed it. Darn me and my biorhythms.
“Someone slipped this under the door,” I informed Nan after finding the letter on the floor near my feet and handing it to her.
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Well, someone isn’t playing very fair. Are they?”
Suddenly, I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I’d tried so hard to be strong, and for what? My stiff upper lip wasn’t bringing Octo-Cat home.
And so I cried.
Nan took my coffee mug away and set it on the end table, then wrapped me in a hug and made soft shushing noises.
“Do you think they’d really do what they’re threatening?” I sobbed, letting all my worry and anxiety overtake me at last. “That they’d kill Octo-Cat?”
Nan stroked my hair as she spoke. Her words came out soft but determined, true. “In my many years on this earth, I’ve learned one very important lesson, and I’ve learned it more than once, I’m afraid.”
She sucked in a deep breath, and I pulled away from her embrace so we now sat face-to-face.
“Crazy people will do anything if they think it will help them reach their crazy goals,” she said sagely.
This was not the answer I’d wanted to hear.
Nan reached forward and brushed her wrinkled fingers against my cheek, picking up a tear on one of her fingertips. “I’ve learned another thing, too. People will do anything to save their own hides. And I bet that goes for cats, too. Don’t count that cat of ours out yet. He’s a survivor.”
“Yeah, and he still has four lives left. At least according to him,” I added with a sad chuckle, pressing my face against her soft sweater and allowing it to offer some measure of comfort in this painful moment.
“That he does,” Nan said as she squeezed me with surprising strength. One day I endeavored to be as fit as my nan. Just maybe not today. “So what’s the plan? What do we do next?”
I’d had a lot of time to think about our next steps as I staked out the living room last night. Ultimately, I realized that even if the forest animals didn’t know what had happened to Octo-Cat, they might still be our best chance of finding him again. Whoever had taken him probably didn’t know I could speak with animals, so they wouldn’t be on the lookout for my special crew of furry helpers.
“I know that look,” Nan said with a huge, relieved grin. “You already have it all worked out. So go ahead. Catch your dear old nan up.”
“I haven’t worked everything out yet, but I do have a pretty good idea,” I said, twisting my back to try to rid it of the kinks I’d developed last night. “C’mon, I’ll tell you all together.”
We both slipped on shoes and charged out of the house toward the forest. Nan didn’t even question it. Perhaps a part of her already knew what I’d decided.
Maple found us as soon as we reached the tree line. “Hey, it’s the peanut butter lady!” she cried from her perch on a low tree branch. “Hi, peanut butter lady!”
I bit my lip and widened my eyes, then exchanged a look with Nan while waiting for Maple to calm down enough to talk to her.
“Hi, Maple,” I said with a quick, friendly wave. “My name’s Angie by the way. You know, in case you forgot. Have you seen Pringle around this morning?”
Her little squirrel nose twitched and then she hopped onto another nearby tree branch. “Pringle!” she screamed. “The peanut butter lady needs you! Maybe she has more peanut butter to give us.”
Maple raced back toward the thick tree trunk and scampered down to the ground at lightning speed. “Do you have more peanut butter?” she asked, pushing both hands down onto my shoe again and again, almost like she was performing CPR on my toes.
“I might,” I answered in a sing-song voice. “But first bring me Pringle, please.”
“Roger that!” Maple bounded into the woods, leaving me and Nan waiting at the edge of the forest.
“What did that cute critter say?” Nan whispered once Maple was out of view.
I chuckled. Despite her faults, Maple was growing on me as well. If she actually managed to carry out this plan and help us get Octo-Cat back, then I’d make sure I hooked her up with free peanut butter for life. “She wants peanut butter,” I explained, “and everything she says pretty much traces back to that one thing.”
Nan gasped affectionately. “Oh, then why didn’t we bring some with us?”
I shook my head and kept my eyes focused on the trees before us. “Believe me, I’ve already made that mistake once. As soon as she has her peanut butter, she forgets everything else in the world. I need her to focus long enough to help with our plan. She can have her treat after.”
Sure enough, Maple appeared again and zipped past us, running back toward the house. “Be right back!” she cried in an excited squeak.
We watched as Maple approached our front porch and then stopped right in front of it. A big gray fluffball climbed out from underneath and blinked in the sunlight.
“I didn’t realize he lived so close to us,” Nan said as we both watched the wily squirrel lead the dazed raccoon over to us.
“Neither did I,” I grumbled. He must have chewed a hole somewhere to get under there, and I was not happy about the unexpected damage to my already hard-to-maintain house.
“Blessed morning, Lady Angela,” Pringle crooned once he and Maple had made their way back to us. So we were still doing the whole medieval thing. Okay.
Even though I preferred reading mysteries and true crime, I’d worked my way through enough fantasy novels to emulate his grandiose speaking patterns.
“And good morrow to you, Sir Pringle.” I paused and gave a quick curtsy. Oh, brother. “We come to you today with a most noble quest.”
“Why is the peanut butter lady talking all funny?” Maple squeaked but was quickly shushed by the raccoon who was still doing his best to remain in character.
“Yes. Octavius.” Pringle confirmed his understanding with a nod.
“It’s time we brought him home. Are you and your squire up to the task?” I shifted my gaze toward Maple. As flighty as the little squirrel had proven to be, I was hoping Pringle could do a good job keeping her in line. We’d need both animals to carry out my plan.
“Might I choose my own squire?” Pringle asked with a faltering grin. I couldn’t say I blamed him. The raccoon appeared to be of near human intelligence, while the squirrel… well… She sure was cute!
“Goodly Maple will serve you well,” I said with a curt nod, then brought one hand up to my mouth and whispered, “Besides, I happen to know she’ll do anything for peanut butter.”
The squirrel’s ears perked up at this, but she remained blessedly quiet.
Pringle bowed his head, whether in defeat or humble acquiescence I couldn’t quite say. But he said, “Then reveal your plan to us, and we shall make it so.”
Okay, it was show time.
Let’s hope my harebrained plan was enough to bring our boy home safe.