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Charles just hugged me tighter.“What do you mean you can’t? You’re Angie Russo, Pet Whisperer P.I. You’re the woman who solved her first official case in less than an hour. That’s pretty incredible.”

Oh, yeah, I guess Julie’s case was solved. Pringle had admitted to taking the mail and banging up the mailboxes. All I had to do is offer him something he wanted more than whatever secrets he thought he might find, and he’d be sure to stop.

Case solved. Whoop-de-do.

I tried to smile but couldn’t. Instead, Charles held me as I cried into his nicely pressed work shirt.

The one person I’d trusted most in this entire world had kept something monumental from me. If I couldn’t rely on her to be honest with me, then who could I count on?

Charles stroked my hair and made soothing noises, reminding me that there was at least one person in my corner, no matter what.

Octo-Cat jumped onto the couch beside me and licked my hand tentatively. Okay, one person and one cat—and probably one dog, too. Though I had no doubt Paisley was busy comforting Nan right about now.

I ran my fingers through Octo-Cat’s silky fur, appreciating his friendship more than ever in that moment.

“Angela, I can see you are quite upset,” he murmured, proving just how far we’d come since fate first flung us together. “Does this mean we’re out of Evian?”

Leave it to my cat to put things into stark perspective.

“No. Don’t worry,” I said with a chuckle, feeling lighter already. “We have plenty of Evian.”

I scratched him between the ears and then pulled myself up from the couch. A nice cool glass of Evian would do us all good right about then.

Chapter Eleven

Despite the night cap of perfectly chilled Evian, I had a hard time drifting to sleep. Sometime early the next morning, I gave up on getting any meaningful shuteye and went to see if Nan was up yet.

Oh, not only was she up…

She was already gone—and with her little dog, too. Darn, I could have used Paisley’s eternal sense of optimism to help get me through what I knew was going to be a tough day.

Well, it’s not like Nan and Paisley would be gone forever. Eventually, they had to come back. Eventually, the woman who was maybe not my actual grandmother would have to give me some answers. After all, Pringle had given me undeniable evidence that something wasn’t quite right about our family past, and even though I was one whole generation removed from whatever scandal Nan had worked so hard to keep hidden, it still upset me deeply.

Octo-Cat sat waiting for me on the kitchen counter. Nan didn’t like it when he dirtied her food prep surfaces, but I hadn’t the heart or the inclination to correct him—especially not today.

“Good morning, Angela,” he said, making eyes toward his empty food bowl. “You’re right on time for my morning repast.”

“C’mon,” I mumbled as I shuffled toward the pantry and extracted a can of Fancy Feast. I also grabbed a clean Lenox teacup and matching saucer, the only dishes he was willing to eat or drink from. After setting both on the floor, I grabbed the half-empty bottle of Evian from the fridge and poured it into the delicate filigreed teacup until it was exactly three-fourths full.

During our time together, he’d learned to appreciate the nuanced flavor of chilled water, and I’d learned not to question his sometimes ridiculous standards and completely non-optional routines.

“Many thanks,” he mumbled before digging in with aplomb.

I grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge since Nan wasn’t around to make coffee, and I didn’t feel like dealing with my deep-rooted fear of getting electrocuted on top of everything else so early in the day.

“So what’s on our schh-edule for today?” my cat asked, over-emphasizing his speech as he often liked to do when he was feeling fancy—usually in the mornings and usually post-Fancy Feast.

I considered his question for a few moments. Of course, I already knew exactly what we needed to do, but that didn’t mean I liked it. He probably wouldn’t, either, but there was no time like the present.

I forced a smile.“We need to talk to Pringle and see what it will take to get him to help us.”

Octo-Cat groaned, refusing to even pretend he liked this plan.“Do we have to?”

“It’s the quickest, most surefire way to figure out what Nan’s hiding, especially since she doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

“I did find it a little strange how quickly she ran out of here this morning.” His voice became deep, cold, as he cast his eyes toward the floor. “She didn’t even stop to give me a pet hello.”

Poor guy. There was nothing he hated more than being ignored when he wanted attention. Of course, that had never stopped him from ignoring me when it suited him to do so. Double standards were just a part of being a cat owner, and I’d accepted that a long time ago.