“I suppose it could mean, ‘You’re next.’” His eyes clouded briefly, but then he snapped his fingers and flashed me a grin that could do whatever the female equivalent of launching a thousand ships is. “But I see there’s plenty of airholes in that box, so I assume that rat is still alive.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes?”
He flashed me another grin as he took the box from me carefully. “Not really. But then, Sherlock Holmes was the kind of guy who solved crimes. I’m more the kind of guy who commits them.”
I watched as he lifted the lid just enough that he could peek inside. “Hello there,” he said, his voice soft. Movement in his shirt pocket caught my eye, and I saw Oomy, Horst’s purple shapeshifting kobold, pop her head out to see what was going on. When she saw the rat in the box, she made an odd sound, almost like a cat hissing.
“Well,” Horst said, closing the lid and looking up at me. “It’s a fancy rat. That’s a good thing.”
“Because you plan on taking it to a black-tie event later?”
“As much as I now kind of want to, no. ‘Fancy’ meaning the breed. And it’s good because you know where one gets fancy rats?”
Of course I didn’t know where one got fancy rats. I’d gotten more rat experience in the last five minutes than I’d had in my entire life.
Horst tapped one finger gently on the top of the box. “From a pet store,” he supplied. “And there’s only one pet store in Gallows Bay. Which means there’s a good chance we can find out who sent this rat while we see about returning it.”
“So...you really are about to turn into Sherlock Holmes.”
“That’s right. Ready for a little adventure?”
When it came to Horst, I was always ready for a little adventure. Even if, in this case, that meant hitting up a pet store to see if anyone there remembered who had purchased a fancy rat recently.
“You bet,” I said.
He beamed. “Perfect. I’ll drive. You hold the rat.”
Chapter Five
The Gallows Bay pet store, a place called Meow Do You Do (yes, I was annoyed not to have thought of a name that good for my cat café), was located in a strip mall, between a pirate-themed gift shop and a jewelry store that, judging from the window display, exclusively sold the kind of jewelry ostentatious grandmothers like.
There weren’t any customers in the pet store when we walked in, just a young woman with sandy blond hair hanging down on either side of a severe center part. She wore a maroon uniform polo with a nametag that read EMMA and three black and gold “Employee of the Month” pins lined up along the collar.
“Good afternoon,” she said, her voice bright and syrupy. “Welcome to Meow Do You Do. How can I help you with your pet care needs today?”
Horst sauntered up to the counter, leaning one hip against it and fixing Emma with his patented crooked grin. “Hi. I’m the Pied Piper, of Pied Piper Lotions & Potions, and this is Glory O’Bryan, the genius behind the new Purrates Café. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. There are cats there.”
Emma looked politely confused, and also like she was suddenly very worried that we were there to sell something to her and not the other way around. “Um...okay?”
“We were wondering if you happened to know this rat.” He turned to me, waiting for me to lift the lid of the box so Emma could take a look inside.
She leaned forward to peer into the box, still uncertain about this encounter. “It’s hard to say. Does that look like one of our rats? Yes. But it’s a fairly typical-looking fancy rat. I couldn’t say for sure that I know this particular rat.”
Horst propped one elbow on the counter. From that position, his shoulder was lower than Emma’s face, and he had to look up slightly at her. “But have you sold a rat that looked like this recently? Say, today?”
