19644d8eebdf42e4b611005d94748ece

Paisley and Octo-Cat scampered around the house in their perpetual game of tag, and I wracked my brain for any kind of idea that would help get us some clients.

The electronic pet door buzzed, and both animals ran outside.

I smiled and watched them zigzag through the yard. Mid-autumn had hit Maine, and now most of the fire-colored leaves had fallen from the trees. While I tried my best to keep up with the raking, it wasn’t easy given the fact that an enormous forest flanked my property on two sides.

Leaves blew into our yard all the time.

Like right now.

I sighed as a gust so strong I could practically see it swept through the trees and deposited at least five landscaping bags full of leaves on the front lawn. Leaves of every color carpeted the greenish-yellow grass—red, orange, yellow… turquoise?

“Mommy! Mommy!” Paisley cried from outside, and I went running. The sweet and innocent Chihuahua got upset fairly easily, but her small size also made her incredibly vulnerable. I never took any chances when it came to her safety, and neither did Nan or Octo-Cat.

One of us was always with her whenever she ventured outside.

And even though I knew Octo-Cat was out there now, I still needed to make sure nothing had happened to frighten her.

Both Paisley and Octo-Cat were waiting for me on the porch when I stepped outside. Paisley even had a turquoise piece of paper clamped within her jaws.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it from her.

“It’s one of your papers, Mommy!” the little dog cried proudly.

I glanced at the bright paper in my hands and then back out to the yard where dozens, maybe even hundreds, more had mixed with the autumnal leaves.

She was right. This was my paper. In fact, it was the flyer for our P.I. firm that I had so painstakingly distributed the last couple of days. I’d handed out every single one that Nan had printed for us—I’d made sure of it.

So why had they all followed me home?

And how?

A squeaky laugh underneath the porch gave me a pretty good idea.

“Pringle!” I yelled, stomping my feet as hard as I could to try to force the raccoon out of there.

I knew he was mad at me ever since I’d banned him from entering the house, but to sabotage my business? Really?

Chapter Two

“Pringle! Show yourself!” I cried, stomping so hard the impact raced up my foot and all the way through my calf. I tried to be fair to the animals that had made themselves part of my world, to accept them for their unique selves. Most of the time that was easy…

But this particular raccoon was driving me straight in the direction of the nearest asylum.

His laughter continued from under the porch, but Pringle made no move to answer my call. I had half a mind to widen the hole he used as a doorway and climb under there myself when Octo-Cat graciously intervened.

“Angela, that’s not how this is done.” He paced the edge of the porch with tail and nose held high. Whatever he was about to suggest, he was obviously very proud of it.

I stopped stomping and placed a hand on my hip, widening my eyes as I waited for Octo-Cat to enlighten me.

“Paisley, stay,” he said to the Chihuahua, then trotted down the stairs and approached the edge of the raccoon’s nearly hidden burrow. “Sir Pringle, would you kindly give us the distinct honor of your presence?”

I heard the raccoon before I saw him.“At your service, dear Octavius.”

When I peeked over the railing, I saw him making a deep bow toward my cat. For whatever reason, he idolized the tabby. At least that was his excuse for stealing so many of Octo-Cat’s things. I still didn’t know where his occasional fairytale knight mannerisms came from, but he clearly enjoyed this particular brand of make-believe.

Normally, I’d play along, but I was too angry to play by the raccoon’s ever-changing rules today.

“What’s this?” I demanded, waving the brightly colored flyer in the air.

Pringle bared his teeth in irritation.“I’m not at your beck and call, you know.”

I bared my teeth right back, just barely holding in an irritated scream. I’d never hurt a hair on his thieving head but hoped I could at least scare him into good behavior with the threat of it.

“Pray, answer the fair maiden’s question,” Octo-Cat intervened yet again. Oh, jeez. I’d have to block whatever medieval fantasy channel he was watching on TV when I wasn’t around to supervise. Even though I realized he was trying to help, this whole thing was turning into one giant migraine.

The raccoon ran up the porch steps, climbed the railing, and plucked the paper from my hands.“That’s mine,” he said then tucked it under his armpit before running back to the yard and out of my reach.

I placed both my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at him.“Actually, it’s mine.”

“Finders, keepers.” The smile that crept across his face now was far worse than his earlier show of aggression.

“What? No!” I cried. Just as I’d never hurt him, I knew Pringle would never cause me physical harm. At the moment, I was feeling rather emotionally attacked, however.