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Just then we caught sight of Nan, Mr. Gable, and my parents as they waved from a big booth by the window.

Charles turned to me with a curious look.“I thought Nan and Grant were going on the date I’d originally planned for us.”

I squeezed his hand and rested my head on his shoulder for a moment.“Remember about helping people in need? Those two are still too nervous to be alone together, so we’re going to help break the ice. And you know another thing about us? We love to be with the people we love, so why not be with them on Valentine’s Day? Well, for a little while, at least.”

“We’re just staying for a quick drink.” My mom looked ravaging in a pink cable-knit sweater. I swear, only she could look glamorous in such simple winter attire. She gave me a tight hug and then kissed me on either cheek.

“Thank you again for setting up the ice castle dinner for us,” my father said, giving my boyfriend a manly hug and several fast pats on the back.

“We’re sharing,” I revealed the favorite part of my plan with a smile. “My parents are doing the dinner, and you and I get the string quartet.”

Charles laughed, and I jabbed him in the ribs.

“What? You think I’m going to pass-up a romantic starlight dance to all my favorite ‘80s classics?”

“No, I know you better than that.” After a moment, he asked, “You said that we were sharing the date I’d planned. What part do Nan and Grant get?”

“They’re going to have the snowball fight, of course. They need something more light-hearted to help them get comfortable dating again. It’s been a long time for both of them.” I eyed the new couple, glad to see they were holding hands across the booth. Maybe they didn’t need quite as much help as I’d expected.

“Take a seat, you two,” Nan urged, motioning for Charles and me to slide into the large booth with one hand while still hanging tight to Mr. Gable’s hand with the other.

The waitress came over and handed out waters all around.“I see the rest of your party has arrived. Are you ready to order?”

“Four lobster rolls for here and two to go,” I said as my mouth began to water in anticipation.

“Oh, that’s nice, sweetie,” Mom said, “But your dad and I don’t need anything to take home.”

“So just four for here?” the waitress asked, her pen raised over the little Steno pad in her grip.

“And two to go,” I confirmed with a sharp nod.

After she’d left, I whispered to Mom, “They’re not for you. They’re for paying the rest of my debts to a certain cat and his raccoon friend.”

12. LEGAL SEAGULL

Chapter One

It all started with a coffee maker that should have been tossed into the dumpster years ago. One fated zap from that thing, and I reawakened with the strange ability to speak with animals.

Ever since then, my life has been full of four-legged chatter. You’d think being able to understand animals would mean that I’d know more about the world around me, but instead I find myself knowing less and less as I’m tossed into one mystery after the other.

I guess that’s why I set up shop as a private investigator…

Oh, hi. My name’s Angie Russo, and I’d be remiss not to mention that my partner in solving crime is none other than my tabby cat, Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq, P.I. And much to his chagrin, I’ve taken to calling him Octo-Cat for short.

When Octo-Cat entered my life, he brought the first of many mysteries and a giant trust fund from his previous owner, for which I am now the guarantor. It pays our monthly bills and then some—including the giant Blueberry Bay manor house that he tricked me into buying. It’s a good thing his previous owner hooked us up because we’ve earned exactly zero dollars for our investigative efforts to date.

My grandmother, Nan, lives with us and uses her retirement funds to pitch in, even though I tell her not to. She keeps our kitchen stocked with fresh baked goods and our walls decorated with all kinds of quirky homemade art projects—yeah, she’s worked in everything from metal to hand-spun silk. She’s a bit of a character, but we can always count on Nan to keep things interesting for us all.

Another roommate of ours is Paisley, the mostly black tricolor Chihuahua Nan rescued from the shelter last year. Paisley is an unfailing optimist and eternal source of joy. She makes a strong contrast to our backyard neighbor, Pringle the unrelentingly irritating and frequently villainous raccoon.

You probably won’t believe me, but everything I’m about to tell you is true about Pringle. He has two treehouses with two big-screen TVs. He also has zero regard for anyone’s privacy, especially mine. I’ve recently caught him snooping on my phone and even recording a video of me for submission to his favorite reality show. Ugh, I know. Here’s hoping I don’t get selected for that particular unwanted privilege.