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“Clearly we need to do something about that raccoon,” Nan added with a heavy sigh as she shook her head.

We stood in silence for a few moments, until…

A chittering yowl hurtled through the air, an angry raccoon following close behind it.“My home! What have you done to my home?” Pringle yelled, lifting both hands to his head and looking as if he were trying to push his brains back in through his ears.

“Get back!” Julie cried, keeping her eyes on Pringle as she backed slowly toward her truck. “That thing could have rabies.”

“Rabies?” Pringle fell to all fours and ambled after Julie. “That’s speciesist, and I don’t appreciate it… Hey, wait, that’s mine!”

“Stop!” I shouted just as Pringle raised himself to his hindlegs again and was making ready to swipe the angel straight out of Julie’s hands.

Everyone turned toward me, waiting to see what my big plan was. Um, I didn’t have one. Not yet, anyway.

“Julie, you should go. I’ll call you later to check in on your case. First I need to deal with our raccoon friend here,” I muttered.

I just hoped my use of the word friend might soften Pringle to what was coming next.

Chapter Eight

We all watched in silence as Julie hightailed it out of there. I couldn’t really blame her for wanting to escape the disaster unfolding in my front yard. The poor thing had been framed for mail theft and property damage, had something special stolen right out of her vehicle, and then, to top it all off, she’d been chased after by an angry raccoon.

Unfortunately, what was a horror show for most people was just another day in my zany, critter-filled life—and this one wasn’t even close to over yet.

Pringle turned on me, fury filling his dark eyes.“Hey, lady. You’ve got some serious explaining to do.”

“Me?” I screeched. Finally, I could be as loud as I wanted without fearing discovery. “You’re the one who stole my flyers, Julie’s angel, and apparently half the neighborhood, too.”

Pringle clicked his tongue and stared down his nose at me.“Haven’t we moved past the flyers?”

“No, we have not moved past the flyers! Why do you keep taking everything that isn’t nailed down?” A sudden shocking thought occurred to me, sending a shiver straight through my body. “Are we going to have to start nailing everything down?”

Pringle flashed a devilish grin my way.“You can try, but I know how to use a hammer.”

My goodness! He knew how to read, how to use a hammer, how to break his way into a car. Was there anything this crazy creature couldn’t do?

“Stop messing with my life,” I said between clenched teeth.

He took a staggering step back.“Me? Mess with your life? I’ll have you know that I was here first, Missy.”

“Um, Angie dear?” Nan broke in at a good moment considering I had no idea how I was going to respond to his latest jab. “Do the two of you need some privacy?”

“No. Of course not,” I said, shaking my head with a huff.

“Actually, yes,” Pringle countered. “If we’re going to have it out, it’s best that there aren’t any witnesses.”

I gulped hard, blinking in disbelief.“Did you just threaten me?”

He shrugged nonchalantly.“Maybe I did. The question is what are you going to do about it?”

Paisley jumped into the fray, angrily kicking her feet up behind her in a move that resembled chicken scratch.“Nobody hurts my mommy!”

“Relax, half-pint. I’m not going to hurt her,” he told the dog. “Although I should, considering what she’s done to my beautiful home. It’s in ruins!”

“Give me a break. You literally live in a hole in the ground,” Octo-Cat mumbled.

Pringle sank back onto his haunches and shook his head.“That cut me deep, Octavius. Real deep.”

“Um, maybe you guys should go,” I told Nan, seeing as we were getting nowhere with all the intrusions to our conversation. Pringle and I needed to have this out without my cat mocking him or my dog threatening him, and I just needed to be done with this whole migraine-inducing ordeal. “Take Paisley and Octo-Cat, too.”

Charles squeezed my shoulder before reaching down to scoop up the agitated Chihuahua.“Let’s go, guys,” he said.

“This isn’t over!” Paisley shouted in her adorably squeaky and very non-scary voice. “It’s not even close to over!”

“Shh, baby girl. Shh,” Nan cooed.

And together the two humans and two animals marched back into the house, the animals less than enthusiastic about leaving me behind to deal with the raccoon drama on my own.

“Why are you stealing things?” I demanded with my arms crossed over my chest once Pringle and I were alone in the yard again.

“I’m not stealing.” He stopped to roll his eyes as if talking to the biggest moron on the planet—I most definitely did not appreciate that implication. “Look, it’s a simple case of manifest destiny. Right? I’m not stealing things. I’m claiming them in the name of Pringle.”

“How is that different?” Did he really just trot out one of the terms I’d learned in middle school U.S. History and then use it to justify his crimes? This was going to be a long night, and I could feel it getting even longer.