Persian Penalty

He returned my smile and gave my hand another squeeze. “If you want me to.”

We held hands the entire drive, except for the few parts where Charles had a left turn to make or we ran into a bit of traffic.

Octo-Cat made occasional retching sounds from the back seat.

Good to see he’d recovered from the strange bout of compassion he’d shown me last night. I wondered if he was always like that at night. If he was only crabby during the day because he was sleepy.

“I can’t believe you signed on to be Mrs. UpChuck,” my cat ground out, “but then again, the role is perfect for you.”

“Thank you,” I said with a satisfied grin as the heated leather seat warmed my posterior.

“Huh?” Charles asked, briefly glancing my way.

“Thank you,” I repeated, this time to him. “For being here, for being you, for all of this.”

“Barf, barf!” Octo-Cat shouted at us.

I ignored him and leaned over to plant a kiss on my fiancé’s cheek.

“We’re here,” Charles announced a short time later, pulling into a condominium complex. “I think.”

Every single unit was a dull tan color, both the siding and the roof. It looked like we were stepping into a strange suburban desert right in the middle of Maine.

A group of high schoolers ambled past, their hands pushed down into the pockets of overly baggy jeans. One of them leered at me suggestively, sending a fresh wave of heat to my cheeks.

“Which one is hers?” I asked as Paisley barked furiously at the passers-by.

“Well, this was the one step of the journey I felt confident about. It’s the one with all the pink plastic flamingos.”

“Oh, right, the pink sentinels,” I said, remembering the directions I myself had transcribed. “Do you think she’s home?”

Charles turned off the engine and turned his full gaze toward me. “Only one way to find out. You ready?”

I swallowed down the lump that had formed in my throat. It was so thick, it felt as if it were stuck. Suddenly my eyes burned, and my skin tingled. My heartbeat sped to an upbeat tempo, and my chest grew heavy.

I let go of Charles’s hand and used mine to steady myself, splaying my hands out and grasping at whatever my fingers came into contact with. It felt like the car was spinning wildly out of control, but that was ridiculous. We were simply sitting here, side by side, with the engine shut off. I knew that and yet…

Charles said something, but I couldn’t make sense of the words. What was happening to me?

A million thoughts rushed through my mind, but I couldn’t grab onto any of them long enough for it to stick.

Paisley barked wildly. Charles continued talking to me in a steady, soothing voice. But I kept spiraling into an idle chaos, unmoored in a storm only I could sense.

It wasn’t until Octo-Cat climbed out of the back seat and settled himself on my chest that my breathing, heart rate, and everything else began to slow back to a reasonable pace.

I listened to him purr as I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on his fur and felt the vibrations warm my skin. “What happened?” I asked when I finally felt like myself again.

“I’m pretty sure you just had a panic attack,” Charles said carefully. He didn’t reach for me like he normally would but rather gave me some space to recover. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I told him and then lifted my face to look at the cat sitting on my chest.

This was so much like the first time I’d met Octavius that I almost felt déjà vu. I’d had a medical issue, come to with him on my chest. The only thing missing was…

“I’m hungry,” he said, emitting a noxious cloud of day-old lobster roll breath. “How long has it been since you last fed me?”

“Yup, there it is,” I said aloud, nodding once even though I was only confirming it to myself.

“What?” Charles asked, reaching forward slowly before rubbing my arm in a steady, soothing motion.

“Cats will be cats,” I said with a small smile. For all his faults, Octo-Cat was someone I could always count on to be himself. And that made marching into the unknown easier, knowing that stability was never more than a furry companion away.

“How did he know to do that?” Charles asked, assessing the tabby.

“Who, me?” the cat asked, then stood and moved onto my lap to look out the window.

“Happened to Ethel from time to time,” he said while staring off into the distance. “Whenever she started breathing funny, she’d grab me and hold on tight. Eventually she would feel better. Figured it would work on you, too. You know, since all humans are pretty much the same.”

Funny how even after all our time together, Octo-Cat could still surprise me. I liked that. And I appreciated him now more than ever. For all his bluster, he still cared about me and was always there for me whenever it really counted.

He was here now, which meant I could do this.

I could meet my grandmother.

Learn the truth.

And keep on living my life.

It didn’t have to change me.

And I had a feeling my merry crew of tagalong companions wouldn’t let that happen, anyway.

12

Charles held my hand while I clutched Paisley to my chest with my free arm. Octo-Cat nosed around the shrubs in pursuit of a fat robin.

“Okay,” I said on the wings of an exhale.

Charles raised his finger and poked at the doorbell.

I focused on his fingers laced through mine, on Paisley shaking with excitement, on Octo-Cat making that ridiculous cat call that was meant to sound like a bird and lure them into his deadly clutches.

I listened for footsteps hurrying toward the door, but none came.

“Maybe it’s broken,” Charles said with a shrug before tapping his knuckles against the door three times in rapid succession.

“Aww, you scared it away,” Octo-Cat whined, pulling himself onto the cement stoop to stand beside us.

I didn’t bother to translate, but I did set Paisley down and tried pounding on the door myself.

“I want to help!” Paisley said before letting out a string of high-pitched barks.

“Make it stop. Make it stop,” Octo-Cat groaned and rolled onto his back, wiggling his spine against the pavement.

Still, my grandma didn’t come to the door.

“Okay, so she’s not home right now,” Charles said, turning back toward the street. “Let’s take a walk around the complex. See if we can learn anything from the neighbors.”

I nodded as he tugged me after him.

Paisley scampered after us, and Octo-Cat returned to the shrubs.

“I’m going to wait for that robin to come back. Let me know when it’s time to go,” he said before pouncing out of sight.

“You don’t think she’s avoiding me, do you?” I asked Charles as we rounded the block.

He shook his head emphatically. “Why would she do that? She doesn’t even know you’re coming, for starters, but also I’m sure she’s dying to meet you. Why else would she have moved so close?”

She had moved close. For some reason, I hadn’t considered that fact before. Hope filled my chest. “Do you think she might be looking for me and my mom, too?”

“Anything’s possible.” Charles picked up the pace. “Oh, look. There’s someone out watering the grass.”

A middle-aged man wearing cargo shorts and a sports T-shirt stood in brightly colored crocs with a hose in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Excuse me, sir!” Charles called, raising his free hand.

“If Susie sent you, you can forget about serving me with any more papers,” the man snarled. I guess Charles gave off that attorney vibe even when he wasn’t anywhere near the office.

“No, I don’t work for Susie or anyone else. We’re just here to see one of your neighbors. Could you tell me about—?”

The man raised his hand. “That’s enough right there. If it’s about a neighbor, it doesn’t concern me, and I have enough trouble of my own without sticking my nose into anyone else’s business. So just go on. Keep walking. Find some other poor sap, but you won’t get a peep out of me.”

I pulled Charles ahead. “Sorry to bother you!” I called to the man.

“Hey, you! Get that overgrown rat of yours off my lawn!” the man raged from somewhere behind us.

Charles and I turned back just in time to see Paisley lift her leg and let out a mighty stream of pee right beside the spot the angry guy had been watering.

He turned his hose on her and she ran away yipping.

“Good dog,” I whispered when she caught up to us.

“I thought only male dogs lifted their legs to pee,” Charles said rather than remarking on the man’s defensiveness.

“Little dogs do it, too. You know, to put some space between themselves and the ground,” I explained.

“Ah,” was all he said to that.

We walked in silence for a while until we came upon a couple jogging.

Charles tried to flag them down, but they both pointed to their headphones and made to run past us. Surprising me and the joggers, Charles threw himself in their way, forcing them to stop.

“What’s your problem, buddy?” The man loomed over us, ready for a fight.

“I’m just trying to get some information,” Charles said, taking a step back. “We’re looking—”

“Mitch. Yeah, he’s just over there watering his grass,” the man growled, pointing a meaty finger back in the direction from where we’d just come. “That’s who you’re looking for.”

“That’s who you guys are always looking for,” the woman parroted with poorly concealed disgust. “Sue ought to just let up on the poor guy, but you vultures are all the same. As long as your invoices are paid, you keep on keeping on. How does it feel to ruin people’s lives just to cut a paycheck?”

“We’re not lawyers,” I shouted in exasperation. “Well, Charles is, but that’s not why we’re here. We’re looking for the woman that lives in the apartment with all the flamingos. Her name is Lyn Jones.”

Both of them made faces like they’d just smelled something horrible.

“Her?” the guy asked.

“We don’t know her and don’t care to.”

The woman scowled. “Yeah. Why would we? All those lawn ornaments? Yuck. As if this neighborhood wasn’t bad enough.”

They continued to bicker between themselves about new people coming into the neighborhood and messing up the good dynamic they had going.

“Thank you,” I said with a sigh.

If they heard me, they didn’t show it. The couple took off jogging again, leaving Charles and me standing there dumbfounded.

“Care to keep trying?” Charles asked, shaking his head. “Three strikes before we’re out of here?”

“I don’t think I can take another strike right now,” I answered. The last thing I wanted was another panic attack.

He didn’t even question my decision.

Together, we returned to the unit with the pink flamingos to collect Octo-Cat and the car. I tried the door one last time since we were there already.

When my knocks went unanswered, I chewed my lip, then said, “I’m going to try calling her again.”

The phone rang and rang, but only on the other end of the call, not inside the house.

Charles frowned. “Like I said, it’s possible I got the location wrong. After all, Bravo’s instructions were pretty hard to follow.”

“No, this is it.” I wasn’t sure how I knew this was the place, but something deep inside me refused to be deterred. Besides, just how many stick-colored houses were there with pink sentinels standing guard around this place?

“Why don’t we head back to the bed-and-breakfast and get some lunch?” Charles suggested as he opened the car door for me and the animals.

“Finally, UpChuck is good for something,” Octo-Cat meowed as he settled himself into the back seat. “What are the chances we can find some lobst—?”

“No,” I cut him off. “Hey, Charles. Which place had the good fries?” I said, suddenly craving something salty.

“My darling, I thought you’d never ask,” he quipped, and we were off.

13

We parked outside the bed-and-breakfast, planning to go around back and enter our room through the sliding glass door. Charles carried the overstuffed bag of greasy fast food while I held an extra-large soda in each hand.

I’d planned on feeding the pets food we’d brought from home, but Octo-Cat had argued with me unrelentingly until I acquiesced, agreeing to purchase him a fish filet. We grabbed a plain burger for Paisley, too, since it would have been unfair not to treat her as well.

It wasn’t a total defeat on my part, though. I made them both swear up and down they’d eat their pet food the rest of the time we were here.

“C’mon, let’s get to the room before these babies get cold.” Charles preferred that no one eat in his car, so we’d kept the bag sealed tight for the entire drive back, the delicious scents tormenting me the whole way.

A flash of orange caught my eye. At first I thought it was Louis the cat, but then I realized it was Millicent who had been watching us.

“And just where have you two been all morning?” she demanded, wrapping her long, red fingernails around a can of Diet Coke.

“Oh, here and there,” I said with a shrug, then turned away.

But Millicent followed us, her flip-flops slapping against the gravel. “You weren’t up to anything illegal, were you? Why, just last night I had a guest tell me her diamond ring had gone missing.”

I gaped at her. “That was me. My ring went missing.”

She balked, then sputtered as she searched for words. “Well, what did you do with it? Come out with it, then.”

“I tried to tell you all of this last night. Weren’t you listening? I took it off to get some sleep, then when I woke up it was gone.”

She considered this before narrowing her eyes and demanding, “How do I know you’re not trying to frame my establishment just so you can collect the insurance money and get something better?”

“Are you actually serious right now?” I exploded. She was lucky my hands were full, or I’d—Okay, I wouldn’t actually do anything untoward, but sometimes it was nice to pretend that I might.

“C’mon, Angie,” Charles urged, tugging at my elbow and motioning with his chin. “Our lunch is getting cold.”

“But she can’t talk to us like that,” I insisted, returning the cruel woman’s glare. “See, this is why I’m guessing you don’t get many return guests. Personal items go missing, the doors don’t work, and you’re one of the rudest people I’ve ever met!”

“I can’t believe you would talk to me like that,” Millicent snarled. “I don’t have to let you stay here. In fact, pack your bags and—”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until my ring is returned. So if you want to get rid of me, I suggest you find it first. Now good day, Millicent.”

I stormed off with Charles and the animals in silent pursuit.

“Meee-yeow,” Octo-Cat said, then let out a low whistle. “I’ve never been more proud of you, Angela. It seems I have taught you something, after all.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it,” I said, kicking off my shoes and slumping down onto the bed. My heart was beating like crazy again. I needed to stop getting so keyed up before it sent me to an early grave.

The toilet flushed in our connected bathroom, and I tensed up even more. “Who’s there?” I shouted, still teetering on the edge.

The door burst open, and Sharon stepped out with her hands raised in the air. “Sorry, sorry. That glass door was open, so I let myself in. I wanted to apologize for how we left things yesterday and check to see how you’re feeling today. Did you meet your grandmother? How did it go?”

Charles motioned for Sharon to join us and handed her a large container of fries.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to intrude,” Sharon began to argue, batting her eyelashes.

Charles pushed the fries at her again. “It’s okay. I had at least five servings yesterday as part of my search. I’m all fried out.”

She studied him with a furrowed brow. “That’s a bit… odd. What do you mean you—?”

“Thanks for coming by,” I blurted out, drawing her attention back to me. “We went to her house, but nobody was home.”

She frowned. “Oh.”

“Yeah, and she’s still not picking up her phone, so we’re kind of stuck.”

“Oh, boo.” Her features crumpled into an even deeper frown. It was totally at odds with her usual free-spirited style. And so was her current outfit for that matter.

I looked the gray suit up and down, pausing briefly to take in the bright red clogs. “Sharon, what are you—?”

“Wearing?” she finished for me, her smile returning. “I have a meeting with the show’s publicist, and I had no idea what they wanted from me, so a nice lady at the store helped me select this business suit. I hate it, but hopefully it will show I’m good at taking direction. She gave me shoes, too, but they were terribly uncomfortable. Luckily these clogs from my visit to New Amsterdam paired nicely.” She paused to suck in a quick breath. “I know Chessy is the star, but I’m the one who signed all the papers, so…”

“You look great, Sharon,” Charles said with a friendly grin. “Very professional.”

She blushed mightily. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”

Charles shifted his weight on the bed, jostling me in the process. Sharon sat opposite us on Octo-Cat’s bed while he worked on his fish filet on the floor.

“Hey, Sharon,” Charles said, balling up his burger wrapper and tossing it back in the bag. “While we have you here, maybe you can help us with something.”

Sharon straightened her posture and placed her hands in her lap. “Anything.” She was batting her eyelashes again. Oh, brother.

“You said you found some information about Marilyn’s trials,” Charles reminded her.

“Yes, but the records were sealed.”

This didn’t deter Charles one bit. “I may be able to get around that, if I find the right people to ask.”

Sharon and I both looked to Charles askance.

He waved off our concern. “If I can find out where any of the cases took place, I can contact the prosecutor’s office and let them know I’m working on a family case. See what they can tell me.”

“Sure, let me just email you my notes,” Sharon said, pulling out her phone. When that was taken care of, she leaned toward me. “Not only is he handsome, he’s brilliant, too,” Sharon confided in me with a whisper more than loud enough for Charles to hear too.