He unlocked the truck, and I took the clicking sound as an invitation to jump in. I tucked NB under my arm and loaded us both along with the manilla envelope into the truck.

Heat from the truck's vents blasted me in the face, and I repositioned NB so he could lick Tony's truck window and leave him a masterpiece. I might have been glad to see Tony still in town, but I was also nosy as hell and wanted to know why.

With guys like Tony, it was best to get to the point. My eyes watered with the warm air, and I sniffled. They'd cleared the roads of snow, but the heat and dense fog outside created a mist on the truck's windshield.

"What are you still doing in town?"

Antonio laughed, showing off that perfect smile. "Fraid I ran out on you without saying goodbye?"

I repositioned the heat vent, hoping to get it out of the path of my eyeballs. "I figured that was part of the job. Here one day and gone the next. A rambling man."

"Naw, I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to my favorite PI."

I grinned and then jerked my head away from his view. Grinning at the bounty hunter wouldn't do anything good for me. Not when I had a Navy SEAL somewhere around this town.

"So, where have you been?" Yes, I'm nosy. You didn't get to be the best PI in Pelican Bay by not asking questions.

A car stopped behind Tony's truck on the street corner, so he pulled into my office parking lot and picked a space by the door, correctly guessing that's where I'd been walking when he passed me.

"I've been down in Portland chasing a guy from Nevada. Locked his ass away last night and made my way this direction."

A sneeze sat at the end of my nose. I wiggled it to keep it at bay, but no matter how many bunny motions I made, the sneeze hit me, and I turned my head and aimed for my elbow.

"You sick?"

"Allergies," I replied, running my finger across the edge of the envelope.

Tony eyed me harder. "You look sick."

Damn. Harsh. It had to be the red watery eyes. "Thanks a lot, Tony. That's exactly what a girl wants to hear."

He laughed rather than apologize. "Just keeping it real."

"How long you going to be in Pelican Bay keeping it real?" NB readjusted on my lap and moved his licking to another section of the window. His back nails cut into my thigh, but I didn't want to move him in case Tony saw his handiwork before he finished.

"Anderson said he had a few more jobs for me, and then I'll make my way down the coast. Get out of this cold ass weather."

I grimaced as NB used my leg as his platform to reach a higher position for his saliva painting.

"Is that dog licking my truck window?"

"Wow, you're full of accusations today. You need a nap." I leaned in front of NB to allow him the chance to keep licking without Tony's judgmental eyes on him. "I'll catch you later, but let me know before you leave."

The heat in the truck was overheating me, but I wasn't willing to unzip my coat. Rather than stick around and quiz Tony on where he was staying, I left, doing my best to wipe NB's art work with my coat sleeve as I slipped out of the truck.

"See you around, princess," Tony said as I closed his truck door.

NB peed on all the bushes leading up to the office door, and I gave him time until the winter chill set in on me and I rushed us inside. The hallway leading to my office door was brightly lit by the overhead bulbs, but the same couldn't be said for my small, rented space.

The single bulb tried hard to light up the space, but it was B-level work. Buying a new multi bulb light was on my list. The list I'd put... somewhere.

The office wasn't bright, but at least it was quiet.

"Does that stain look bigger, NB?" I asked the dog as I unleashed him and kept my eye on the area above my desk. The weird dark shape in the ceiling tile seemed to have grown over night.

I tossed Katy's envelope on the desk. The stain problem had to wait. I had to solve the shooting and move into my new rental. Then I'd buy a lamp with more light bulbs, and after all that, I'd get back to the stain problem. Just to make sure I didn't forget, I wrote the four items in order of importance on the back of the manilla envelope.

NB took up his position at my feet under my desk as I spilled out the papers from the envelope, letting them cover my desk. In some weird attempt to make the handwritten entries more legible, Katy enlarged them on the copy machine so that each entry covered an entire page. Rather than help, it made the font fuzzy around the edges.

I leaned over to the light and held the first piece of paper underneath it, trying to see it better.

A woman, I guessed a woman because of the swirly handwriting in Katy's logbook. Even with the nice handwriting, the zoomed-in image was difficult to read.

Gilbert and Malory Wilcox. The book didn't have a space for ages, but from the names I had to assume they were an older couple. The home address-listed as a place in Dundee, Florida-also gave out big clues. Why would an older couple leave their warm home in Florida to visit Pelican Bay in the middle of February?

Did they travel all this way to shoot a man at the bed-and-breakfast and then make their escape?

A wayward son? Cheating son-in-law? Drug deal gone wrong? Being a PI taught me to put nothing past anyone. Our oldest resident Pearl Ashwood made the best pot brownies in Maine. Not that I'd ever tried them. I'd just heard the rumors.

I sneezed. Damn nose. If I didn't get the sneezing under control, people might think I was sick. My throat hurt after the sneeze, and I contemplated taking a break to the bakery for a drink while holding back the second.

A phone call stopped me before I decided. My mother's name flashed across the screen as I grabbed it.

Ugh.

I rubbed my head as I brought the phone to my ear. "What's up, Mom?"

It was always something. I sneezed before she answered me.

"Are you sick?" she asked. "Is it Covid?"

"No, I'm not sick. Just because someone sneezes doesn't mean they are sick. It's allergy season." I fumbled with the paper, crinkling the corner.

My mother sighed. "It's February, Vonnie. It's not allergies. Everything is dead. It's probably Covid."

"It's not Covid." I rolled my eyes, thankful that she couldn't see. "Maybe I'm allergic to snow."

She didn't know my life. People developed allergies all the time.

"Hopefully, you get over your snow allergy soon because I have a case for you."

That perked me up. "You do? That's great. Who died?"

My mother hated the idea that I planned to become a world-famous PI. If she was giving me cases, did that mean she'd had a change of heart?

"There's a cat."

"How is it a cat? Is it a dead cat?" Did I need money enough that I'd willingly investigate a dead cat? It sounded gruesome and not on the same level as the murder I solved in January.

My mother laughed. "No, it's not dead. What has gotten into your head, young lady? I volunteered you to watch Frankie Zanetti's cat. He and Shiloh just adopted a kitten, and they're going on vacation and need someone to babysit. The key is under the flowerpot by the door."

My head spun with her comments. When and where did my mother talk to Frankie Zanetti, the local mob boss? And why would she sign me up to babysit? "Cat sitting isn't my specialty."

"He bought you a car, Vonnie."

She always brought up the car. Yes, Frankie bought Rachel, my black Camaro, but only after he got my car filled with bullet holes during a shootout at his place. Of course, I couldn't tell my mother those details.

"I've paid back the car debt, Mom."

"It's money, Vonnie," she responded, but it didn't pass my notice that she didn't tell me how much money.

"NB is allergic. What kind of dog mom would I be if I brought in an allergen and made my son sick?"

"Vonnie," she said, obviously exacerbated. "They've already left, and it's only ten days. I told him you'd do it."

My throat burned the longer I talked. "Fine. I'll go feed his cat."

I'd watch the stupid cat. Not because Frankie bought me a very expensive car but because I worried what might happen to my body if I said no to the mobster. The man had a bazooka in his living room. I did not want to mess with him. Or his cat.

Two hours and eight sneezes later-not that I was counting-I had another three boxes loaded into the back of Rachel and parked in the driveway at my new place.

Broadrick's motorcycle came to a stop beside me, and he removed his helmet, watching me retrieve a box from the back.

"This is insane, Von. You're never going to finish in time."

Ugh between him, my mother, and the cat, I might lose my mind.

"Listen, B. I've got the Camaro and you have a motorcycle. How else am I supposed to move boxes more than a few at a time?" I asked, popping the box against my hip.

He shook his head and took the box from me, leaving me to grab another. "You're too stubborn to ask for help."

"I am not." I hadn't asked for help because I didn't need any. Things were under control. That was totally different than being stubborn.

Broadrick jerked his box from hand to hand, letting the contents rattle. "This box isn't even full."

He tried to jerk open the top flap, but I hit his hand away. "It's NB's stuff. I'm moving by category."

"Vonnie," he huffed, waiting behind me as I unlocked the side door. "Did you see you have a package on the front stoop?"

"No, can you grab it? Who knows I'm here already?" I asked as I pushed the door open and Broadrick went to retrieve the package. "It's probably for Katy."

He handed me a small white box held together with a flimsy piece of brown packaging tape. "Wow, the USPS mailed this?"

I ripped the tape off in one swing and pushed back the box flap before a scream pressed past my lips. The box fell from my hands, hit the floor, and scattered white feathers.