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“Look, I’m no dummy. I’ve read your human history books. I know all about how this country was founded. Well done, I might add. Those guys decided they wanted more land, so they took it. I decided I wanted more treasures, so I took them. So what?”

“This is not the age of exploration,” I countered in disbelief. “And it’s not okay to take things without permission. It wasn’t really okay then, either, but hindsight and all that.”

“Well, sorrrrrry. I didn’t realize the rules changed depending on who they applied to.”

The worst part was how Pringle absolutely nailed his argument against humanity. Any argument I made would sound unintelligent by comparison, and I didn’t want to resort to being a bully.

Luckily, Pringle kept right on going.“If you’re going to be such a wet blanket about it, then take all your stupid human trash back. I didn’t find what I was looking for anyway.”

Well, this was new information.

“What were you looking for?” I asked breathlessly, more curious than annoyed now.

The raccoon lifted both hands into the darkening sky and shook them in a bang-on display of jazz hands.“Secrets,” he whispered dramatically.

That took me by surprise.“What do you mean secrets?”

“Exactly what I said. I like reading and watching TV as much as the next guy, but it’s all fake, made-up stuff. The drama is far more interesting when it’s real. Don’t you think?”

I swallowed hard, then sputtered,“Um, what do you mean?”

“I’m talking secrets, honey.” Pringle raised one eyebrow and shook his head. “Have you really forgotten already?”

I was almost afraid to ask the next question, but I couldn’t keep it in. “What secrets do you have under there?”

“Most of them are pretty tame. The MacIntyres are behind on their utility bills. A kid a few blocks over has an arraignment next week on shoplifting charges. Mild stuff. Well, most of the time, anyway.”

And just like that, all the remaining pieces clicked into place.“So, it was you taking the mail?”

“Of course it was me!” He threw both hands up in the air as if he couldn’t even deal with my slow human brain anymore.

But I still had more questions.“Why did you vandalize the mailboxes?”

He shrugged.“Seemed like a good idea at the time. Aren’t you going to ask about the big secret I have?”

I shivered. Yes, I was curious, but this had to end somewhere, and I worried that by taking too much of a visible interest, Pringle would assume his bad behavior was justified.“I don’t really like gossip, so no. Thank you, though.”

“That’s too bad,” the raccoon said, a sinister smile spreading from cheek to furry cheek. “If it were me, I’d want to know.”

“Know what?” I asked, hating myself for playing right into his sticky little hands.

He dropped to all fours and closed the distance between us. Placing one hand on my shoe, he stared up at me with wide, intelligent eyes.“Know that the one person I trusted the most in this world has been lying to me my whole life.”

No. No way. It couldn’t be.

Why was I even listening to this? Clearly, Pringle was just trying to stir up trouble, and yet…

“Nan?” I asked, my voice shaking.

Pringle nodded, a solemn expression overtaking his dark face.“Guess it’s not a secret anymore.”

Chapter Nine

According to the raccoon that lived under my porch, my nan had some kind of deep, dark secret that would change everything. We’d already established that Pringle was a thief. Could he be a liar, too?

I should have turned away and refused to hear any more, but I just couldn’t help but wonder… Might the raccoon be telling the truth?

Pringle placed a hand on my leg and gave me a short series of pats.“There, there, princess. I can see you’re taking this hard. I can also see that you haven’t decided whether or not you believe me, so let me do you a solid.”

He turned away ruefully and slipped under the porch, emerging mere seconds later with an aged envelope gripped in his hand. He lifted it toward me in offering.“Be careful with this. I don’t want you getting any dirty human fingerprints on it or otherwise contaminating the best secret I’ve ever collected.”

My hands shook as I accepted the thin letter. It had already been covered in actual dirt from its time within the raccoon’s lair, so I didn’t see how my touching it could make things any worse. The envelope had been torn clear across the top, and there was a single sheet of cream-colored paper folded and placed inside.

Dorothy Loretta Lee was written in a tight, controlled script. The top corner didn’t have a sender’s name, only an address somewhere in Georgia. Seeing it firsthand, I had no doubt the letter was authentic.

“Read it,” the raccoon urged, watching me with a shiny, probing gaze.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, still not ready, doubting I’d ever be ready.

“From your nan’s things,” he said with a slow nod. “It was a couple weeks ago. I noticed her going up into the attic, and then I remembered that I have a private entrance into that place, so I climbed through the hole in the roof, and—”

“Wait. There’s a hole in my roof?”