Persian Penalty

PERSIAN PENALTY PET WHISPERER P.I.

MOLLY FITZ

© 2021, Molly Fitz.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Editor: Jennifer Lopez, Mistress with the Red Pen

Cover & Graphics Designer: Amala Benny, Mayflower Studio

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

Whiskered Mysteries

https://whiskeredmysteries.com/

CONTENTS

About this Book

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

What’s Next?

Meet Merlin

Sneak Peek of WITCH FOR HIRE

Sneak Peek of SECRETS OF THE SPECTER

More Molly!

More Books Like This

ABOUT THIS BOOK

With the help of her animal companions, Angie has finally located her long-lost grandmother. Charles, Paisley, and Octo-Cat accompany Angie on an impromptu road trip, but this family reunion isn’t all hearts and flowers. Join the gang as past and present converge, and both bring new mysteries to solve.

1

I’m Angie Russo, and my life has never been normal. My family is full of superstars, most notably my nan, who once stole the stage on Broadway and is to this day the most memorable character you’ll ever meet. For the longest time, I searched for what would make me special, too. I guess that’s why I racked up seven associate degrees before finally settling into a career.

My calling was actually a cat call—no, not the sleazy, random-guy-on-the-street kind. An actual meow. A meow that I heard loud and clear, and in English of all things.

Yes, I can talk to animals. Just call me Miss Dolittle.

I was working as a paralegal when a will meeting went awry. One thing led to another, and I got zapped by a faulty coffee maker, lost consciousness, and then eventually woke up with a talking cat on my chest.

And, boy, did he have a lot of demands!

Fast-forward a couple years, and now he’s my partner in the P.I. business. Thanks in large part to his former owner, his name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq, P.I. Since that’s way longer than any honest name should be, I’ve taken to calling him Octo-Cat.

Together, we live in a beautiful manor home not too far from Blueberry Bay in Maine. Nan lives with us, too, as does her syrupy sweet rescue Chihuahua, Paisley. Our backyard neighbor is a sticky-fingered raccoon named Pringle; he helps us occasionally and bribes us regularly.

Never a dull moment with this colorful cast of sidekicks.

Of course, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention Charles Longfellow, III. He’s the senior partner at a local law firm, the same one I used to work at back in the day. He’s my boyfri—I mean, fiancé!

He’s my fiancé!

Wow, I still haven’t gotten used to saying that.

He proposed to me on a surprise weekend getaway that came with a rented RV and a crazy murder mystery. It was supposed to help me relax, but I’m honestly more wound up than ever.

Not just because of the proposal, but also because of what happened after we returned home.

A few months ago I made a deal to help some seagulls with an inter-flock dispute. In exchange, they promised to find my long-lost grandmother, whom I only knew about thanks to a hidden letter Pringle filched from the attic.

Nan—my best friend and the woman who raised me while my parents were busy focusing on their careers and each other—well, it turns out she’s not actually blood related.

I’m still getting over the shock from that particular revelation!

Needless to say, Nan has had a rough time accepting that I want to connect to the grandmother I never knew. I’ve taken every opportunity I can to reassure her, but it’s still hard. She didn’t choose for her best friend—my blood grandfather—to hand her his baby and ask her to run. Nan never asked why, and he died before I could suss out any answers. That leaves my long-lost grandmother as the only one who can explain why things happened the way they did.

I’ve got to find her and learn more about my family’s secret past. Yes, I’ve considered that she might be dangerous, especially considering the great lengths old grandpa went to get my mother away from her.

But I’m pretty sure I can handle a confrontation with an octogenarian, no matter how intimidating she may be.

Anyway, I tell you all this now because the seagulls have finally located my secret grandmother just outside of Katahdin.

And I’m preparing to go meet her for the first time ever. I’m so excited, I can hardly—

Deep breaths.

Okay, I’m scared out of my mind, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to pass up this opportunity. I mean, it’s like pulling off a bandage, right? I just have to do it if I ever expect the wound beneath to heal.

I stumbled into the kitchen, practically tripping over my oversized slippers as I moved from the hardwood of the dining room to the tile in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Nan sang, floating over and pushing a banana-nut muffin into my hand. “I’ll put the coffee on now.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, shoving the muffin in the general direction of my mouth, and hoping it would end up in the right place. I’d never been a morning person. Even less so since developing my fear of electric coffee makers.

Don’t judge. I’m sure if you ever got electrocuted, you’d fear the appliance that attacked you, too.

I’d tried a million different caffeine solutions from canned coffee to instant powder, and most recently a French press. Nothing beat the freshly brewed stuff, though. It was the whole experience, really. The smell, the sound, all of it.

Thankfully, Nan was only too happy to aid in my addiction.

And so I munched on my baked good while she tidied up the kitchen and the coffee brewed. When it finished, Nan poured me a cup and mixed a bit of pumpkin spice flavored creamer in. It was one of her greatest joys to discover PSL off season, which meant it was always in season for me.

She allowed me to take a few life-giving sips before attempting a conversation. Smart woman.

“What have you got planned for today, dear?” she asked, pouring a cup for herself, and then drifting toward the living room.

I dutifully followed, shuffling my feet so that the little kitty heads on my slippers shook with each motion. Nan had purchased them for me as a Valentine’s gift, remarking how much the plush felines looked like Octo-Cat. I now wore them most days, partially because it made Nan happy and partially because it bugged my cat to no end.

“I should get slippers with little human heads attached. See how you like it,” the tabby muttered from atop the sofa, his tail flicking in tell-tale irritation.

I took a seat in my favorite armchair while Nan settled herself on the couch. Paisley hopped up beside her and shoved her wet little puppy nose into Octo-Cat’s rear end.

“Ick!” he shouted as the hair on his back went up. “Why must you always sniff me there? Surely, the scent hasn’t changed from yesterday!”

“Good morning, big brother!” the little dog squealed. She wagged her tail so hard, her whole body shook from the effort.

Octo-Cat growled and ran away to hide.

And so went our morning routine.

“Dear?” Nan prompted, casting a quizzical glance my way. “Your plans for today?”

Oh! Oh, right.

“Sorry. The pets were distracting me,” I mumbled to buy myself some time. Now that I had enough caffeine in my system to form a few coherent thoughts, I realized what I needed to do, and it was the very thing I’d been dreading all night. No wonder I was so tired this morning.

“Nan?” I asked, fixing my eyes on the mug in my hands as I continued. “Bravo visited last night. He’s found my bio grandmother.”

“Oh,” she said simply.

When I glanced up again, she had her gaze fixed on an indeterminable point in the distance and sat stroking Paisley without really seeing her—or me.

“Nan?” I prompted again. I hated that she felt this way, but I also couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to meet the woman who had birthed my mother. Whether she’d been part of our lives or not, she was still an important part of who my mother and I had become.

Nan sighed gently. “I suppose you’ll want to go meet her, then.”

“Yes,” I answered firmly. That was not up for debate, no matter how much Nan disliked the idea. But I had a plan to soften the blow…

I waited for her eyes to meet mine, and then I flashed her a reassuring smile. “I want you to come with me.”

2

Nan traced her finger along the rim of her mug, then winced. “Oh, shoot. I can’t. I already have something planned for that day.”

I cleared my throat. “Um, I haven’t said what day I’m planning to go yet.”

She hit herself in the forehead with her palm, and a few drops of coffee sloshed out onto her neon pink yoga pants. “Silly me!” she cried. “I better go treat this stain before it sets.” She rushed into the kitchen far faster than she normally moved around the house.

When I joined her there, she was manically dabbing at her lap with a wet paper towel.

“Nan, we need to talk about this,” I said gently.

“It’s not coming out. I’m going to throw these in the wash,” she muttered, then rushed past me, heading straight for the stairs.

I sighed and trudged up the stairs after her. “Come with me to meet her,” I called through her closed bedroom door. “Please. I want you there.”

She didn’t say anything for several moments. Just as I decided she wasn’t going to answer me at all, the door creaked open, and Nan’s fingers wrapped around the edge.

One wide eye looked out at me through the tiny opening. “You don’t understand, dear. That other woman—your true grandmother—she must hate me for what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything,” I insisted, trying and failing to pull the door open wider. “My grandfather was the one who took Mom away. He forced your hand.”

“And I chose to keep you both hidden, even when she came looking all those years later.” She let out a shaky breath and cast her eyes to the floor. “If I were her, I’d hate me.”

“Don’t talk like that. Mom and I have both had great lives, thanks in large part to you.” I smiled wide, meaning each word with everything I had. “Plus, doesn’t time heal all wounds?”

She shook her head slowly on the other side of the door. I could just barely discern the motion. “Live long enough, and you’ll learn that’s not true,” she muttered eerily.

“But Nan,” I whined, not knowing what else I could say to make this better. I’d waited for months after finding out I had a secret grandmother—months for any clues to turn up and even more for the seagulls to locate her. I couldn’t just not meet her. But I also hated to see Nan hurting like this.

“Please don’t ask me again,” she whispered. “You know I have a hard time saying no to you.”

“But I can’t do this on my own,” I insisted, not trying to burden her but rather to show how important she was to me—to this.

We both sighed.

“Then take Charles with you, or your mother for that matter,” Nan said before pressing the door shut between us.

The sound of overgrown claws scrabbled across the hardwood floor, then stopped.

“Mommy,” a small voice rose from beside me.

I glanced down to find Paisley staring up at me with a slowly wagging tail.

“I’ll go with you,” she volunteered before tucking her tail over her privates and dipping her head. “But I don’t think you should ask Nan again. She doesn’t like it.”

I sighed. Leave it to a dog to be more perceptive than me. “You’re right.” I bent down to scoop Paisley into my arms.

She immediately began to lick my face and make happy high-pitched noises. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too.”

Technically, Paisley was Nan’s dog, but that didn’t stop her from calling me Mommy. It worked, considering everyone in town called my grandmother Nan, even those who weren’t related. Also, I was the only human who could understand her, and Paisley loved shouting the maternal moniker whenever she got a chance.

Her first family had abandoned her to the animal shelter, so I think she needed the added reassurance that when she called out for her family, someone answered back in kind.

I carried Paisley with me as I headed back downstairs. Nan clearly needed some time to herself to process everything, but I needed someone to talk it over with.

Mom was out of the question. Yes, it was her birth mother I was planning to go meet, but I wanted to make sure our missing family member was receptive to us before involving Mom. It would be a much bigger blow to her—should this other woman reject us—than it would be to me. Although that would be a sting I’d have a hard time recovering from as well. Still, I loved my mom, and I wanted to protect her if I could.

Yes, my missing grandmother had tried to approach Nan years ago, but who was to say that time hadn’t hardened her heart to us?

There were so many unknowns in this situation, and no one I could turn to for advice, either. Because nobody else had gone through a situation like this before—at least not anyone I knew. And the last thing I wanted to do was entrust such a doozy of a family drama to strangers on an Internet message board or social media site.

I didn’t want to bother Charles at work, especially since he’d just taken the long weekend off and this was his first day back at the office. I decided to shoot him a quick text: Call me when you get a break at work. No rush.

Much to my surprise, my phone began ringing almost immediately after I hit send.

“What’s up?” Charles asked when I picked up the call.

“Oh, hey. I didn’t mean that you needed to call right away,” I chided him. “You need to focus on your work. At least that’s what you’re always telling me.”

He chuckled at my attempt to scold him. I normally never gave him guff like this, but I’d also been hoping for some more time to sort my thoughts out for myself before attempting to share them with him.

“Yeah, but it will be good to have a quick break before switching client files,” he said. “Long day ahead. Probably a long night, too.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized without knowing why.

“Nothing to be sorry for. This is what I signed up for when I became a lawyer. And you know I love it. Also, I love you…” He paused dramatically, and I could just picture the big goofy grin that accompanied this silence. “Fiancée.”

A tiny thrill rushed through me. “I love you, too, fiancé.”

His smile came through in his words, and I was pretty sure it matched mine. “Now this time really tell me. What’s up?”

“Bravo found my grandmother,” I revealed, then pressed my lips into a tight line.

Charles sucked air in through his teeth. “Never a dull moment, huh?”

I smiled and shook my head even though he couldn’t see the gesture. Talking to him was just natural like that. It never felt like there was any distance between us when we chatted about our days. “Nope.”

“So when are we going to meet her? I am invited, right?”

I let out a giant sigh of relief. “Yes, please come with me,” I said so fast all my words ran into each other.

“Darling, you couldn’t keep me away. I want to be there for my fiancée whenever and however I can. By the way, you’re my fiancée.”

I smiled to myself. Oh, how I wished I could give him a giant hug of gratitude just then. “I love you, fiancé,” I said, twirling my hair like a giggling schoolgirl.

“Uh-oh,” Charles said and then let out a rolling groan. “Just got an urgent email. Gotta go, but I’ll call you when I take lunch. I can’t wait to hear all the sordid details. Bye. Love you.”

Well, there was a pretty major thing decided at least. I probably should have asked Charles first, considering I’d just agreed to be his partner in life. It was hard to break nearly thirty years of seeing Nan as my main partner and confidant, but I guess that was part of growing up. Growing. Changing.

I just hoped things wouldn’t change too much.

3

I spent the rest of that week trying on various outfits and attempting a cool new style with my hair. I’d only get one chance to make a first impression on my grandmother, and I really wanted her to like me.

It was silly, but a small part of me thought that if I nailed my outward appearance, I could tip the scales in my favor. After all, I knew next to nothing about this woman. Only that the grandpa I hadn’t known deemed her an unfit mother decades ago, and that the seagulls had hinted she might have strange abilities like mine. But how would I even be able to determine that? It’s not like I could come right out and ask her such a bizarre question. All that hard work I was doing to look good would go—whoosh—right down the drain.

As it turned out, Charles had a busy week at work but was putting in early mornings and long nights at the office so he could leave a couple hours early on Friday. Together, we would head to Katahdin and this cute little bed-and-breakfast we had decided to book based on the online reviews.

Nan made a full-time job of avoiding me. Rather than joining me for morning coffee, she’d brew a pot and leave it on the counter so that I could heat it up in the microwave myself. Each day she had a different reason for being gone, but I knew they were all excuses.

I couldn’t wait to punctuate this chapter of our lives with a big, fat period. We both needed to meet my missing grandmother and be done with it. The unknown that would come from this relationship had lingered over our heads for far too long.