Fur Ball Fever

Chapter 10

Grace stood in front of her house and watched Nick stride away with the loose-limbed agility of a natural athlete. As if sensing she had second thoughts about declining his offer of help, he glanced back. When she made no move to stop him, he kept on walking until he turned the corner and disappeared.

She gave a sigh, more of regret than relief, before turning into her yard. Nick spelled danger with a capital "D". Okay, so maybe she was a fool to push him away, but nothing had changed. He was still chauvinistic, bossy, over-protective, and far too sexy for her peace of mind. Not so long ago she'd fooled herself into believing they had a future together. She wouldn't make that mistake again. The more distance she placed between herself and Nick, the safer she'd feel.

Now that she'd lined up her suspects, she would find Miss Coco herself. And this time she'd be prepared for danger. She couldn't bear it if she let Ruby-Pearl down.

Plotting her next move, she stopped beside her front lawn and stood transfixed. Her aunt's butt hung over a tiny gardening stool as she drove a sharp tool into the flower bed. "I'll get you yet, you son-of-a-bitch," Auntie Beth muttered.

Murphy threw himself at her. His hindquarters wagged a frenzy of pleasure. She scratched his ear, grunted a greeting, and stabbed the ground. Hard. Withdrew the implement, speared again, releasing the scent of sun-warmed earth.

Once seated on the grass beside her aunt, Grace unfastened her sandals. "What gives? Planting some late-season Acapulco Gold? Harvesting your grow-op?"

Auntie Beth pried the soil using a vicious twist of her wrist. "No such luck."

"Okay I'll bite. Tell me what's driven you to slaughtering weeds." Grace kicked off her sandals with a sigh of relief.

"I need to hurt something," Auntie Beth said. She flung a weed into a composting bag.

Murphy rooted under a bush, came up for air chomping on a stick. He chewed off a chunk, crunched, gagged, and hacked up fragments of bark. Sighing, Grace pried the masticated wad from Murphy's jaws and tossed it away. "What happened?" she inquired, and picked up the trowel to prod a weed.

Auntie Beth stuck the dandelion digger into the earth. "Paddy called, bless his black and shriveled heart."

Grace's pulse picked up speed. "That's the first time Dad's phoned here since he kicked you out. What did he want?" Not that she gave a damn.

"To find out what we were planning for my birthday."

Truth be told, in the chaos of losing dogs and investigating neighbors, Grace had forgotten her aunt's birthday. "What did you tell him?"

"That you're organizing a dinner for me, and will send him and your lunkhead brother an invitation." She looked at Grace expectantly. "You will throw a dinner, won't you?"

"Don't I always?" Grace did a quick mental calculation. She had exactly three days to organize a kick-ass birthday bash. "What did Dad say to upset you?"

"We were having a nice chat for the first time in years. I told him about your new pet spa, how well you were doing, and all. Everything was fine until I got to Miss Coco."

Grace smelled trouble. "Did you describe your stunt with the brownies?"

Auntie Beth raised one eyebrow. "Do I look like a masochist? Paddy is such a tight-ass over a little recreational dope."

It occurred to Grace that her father might have a point. She didn't press the matter, but asked, "So what was the fight about?" When her aunt avoided eye contact by slashing at another weed, the bad feeling intensified. "Tell me you didn't mention my investigation."

"It might have popped out." Auntie Beth beheaded a dandelion. The force of her swipe sent the yellow head tumbling across the grass.

"No!" Grace was appalled at her aunt's lack of judgment. "Dad must have gone ballistic. He thinks women are ornaments augmented by cooking skills and child-bearing capabilities. It's a stretch for him to view his daughter as a business woman. He'd never a condone crime investigation." The bad feeling grew. "I hope you didn't let it drop that I was hunting for a dog I was supposed to be minding for a client."

Auntie Beth dug harder. "He has a way of prying information out of a person."

"Great. Just great. How did you leave it with him?"

"We both agreed it would be best if he skipped my birthday."

It didn't matter that Dad wouldn't visit, Grace assured herself. She'd breathe easier if he stayed away. He disapproved of everything she did, anyway.

Auntie Beth said, "Don't worry, Gracie. Your dad will come around. He's worried because he thinks you're too impulsive."

Grace shrugged. "That's his problem, not mine. I'm happy if he stays away. There'll be more food for the rest of us."

"His loss." Auntie Beth agreed before changing the subject. "Your turn. Tell me what's wrong."

Grace dropped the trowel. She wasn't using it anyway. With her hands clasped around her knees, she drew a deep breath and gave Auntie Beth a summarized version of everything except the flash of hurt in Nick's eyes at her reaction to his performance with Julius. When she finished describing how she'd declined his offer of help, she picked up a handful of gritty soil and let it trickle through her fingers.

Auntie Beth lost no time cutting to the chase. "Don't be a blockhead. You need Nick's help. He knows the ropes, he has the contacts, and besides, he's hot."

Grace jutted her chin. "I don't need another chauvinist bossing me around. I've put up with enough alpha male meddling from my family to last a lifetime."

"The boy still has feelings for you."

"I'm better off when he's out of my life." She only wished she believed it. "I'm on my own, and loving it."

"In that case, I'll help you."

Grace studied her aunt's face. What she saw there scared the pants off her. "No." She scrambled to her feet. "No way. Nuh-uh."

"I always wanted to solve a case. I bet I'll make a kick-ass sidekick." Auntie Beth's lips stretched in an eager grin. "You're looking at your very own getaway driver."

"Not in this lifetime."

"Try to stop me."