Hosed (Happy Cat #1)(59)

“I can’t believe this.” I shake my head. “You’re believing a guy who fucked a sheep over Cassie? Just because she’s running a sex toy factory?”

“I didn’t find any evidence of a sheep being violated by Steve Bennington.”

“Because the sheep didn’t report it?” I scoff.

He ignores my sarcasm. “Steve’s been an upstanding member of the community for years. A lot longer than this wart on our community has been here, that’s for sure. Happy Cat ain’t the place for a sex factory.”

“That’s not your call to make,” I say, voice tight. “And you owe it to the entire town to get to the truth.”

He puts a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “Them Sunderwell girls really know how to screw a guy up good, don’t they? But you’ll be all right, son. Give it a few days, then come on over to the house. The missus wants you to meet our Geri Lynn. She’s home from college, got her bachelors of fine arts and everything.”

I shake his hand off.

If he won’t investigate Steve, I’ll have to do it for him.





I call my brothers for backup, and they meet me at my house with Olivia in tow. Olivia and Jace keep casting covert, longing glances at each other when the other isn’t looking, and it’s getting a little weird, but I have bigger issues to sort out than whatever’s going on between them.

For once, I’m putting my problems first.

No, I’m putting Cassie first.

The way it should be.

“We need his shoes,” Blake says. “If he was at the factory, they’ll probably have the lighter fluid all over them.”

“Accelerant,” I mutter. “We don’t know exactly what it was yet.”

“How the fuck are we going to get his shoes?” Jace asks.

“I’ll just go ask him to borrow them,” Olivia says. “For a friend who’s coming into town or something.”

Jace looks at her. She glances at the family photo I have hanging over the couch, then stares down at her feet as she adds, “I can be persuasive. When I need to be.”

“But you’re his ex-wife’s best friend,” Jace points out.

“Exactly. He’s used to—oh.” Olivia’s shoulders slump. “Right. He won’t talk to me, let alone give me evidence. Of course he won’t.”

“Forget asking for his shoes.” I pace my living room, past the metal raccoon faces I welded and hung on the wall for George, because the little scavenger has an ego. “We need to take them. Or something that proves he’s behind this.”

“They won’t be admissible in court if you steal them,” Blake points out.

All three of us look at him.

He grins. “What? I like crime shows.”

George wanders into the room, fat and forlorn. He misses Cassie too.

I’ve ruined the best relationship my raccoon ever had.

I’m about to switch on The Cat Whisperer for him when a diabolical idea strikes.

The one thing George loves even more than The Cat Whisperer?

Scavenging.

I squat down next to him and bat away the gnawed-on butt plug he’s carrying. “George, you want to see Cassie again?” I ask.

He cocks his head, but remains skeptical.

“She needs your help, buddy.”

“You have seriously lost every last ounce of your shit,” Jace says.

“Hold on, hear him out,” Blake replies. “I want to see where this is going.”

“You in?” I ask George. “Might be a little tricky getting you to grab something that’s not shaped like a vibrator or a penis pop, but…”

“Oh, dear.” Olivia sighs. “I have an idea where this is going.”

Jace arches a brow her way, but she just shakes her head. “Never mind. You’ll find out soon enough.”

I smile. He will find out.

So will Steve, the asswipe arsonist.

And he’s never going to see this one coming.





An hour later, Blake, George, and I are creeping through the woods behind Steve’s house. We left Jace behind because if we get caught he can’t afford another run-in with the law. We left Olivia behind because she confessed she couldn’t be trusted not to blast Steve with impotence spritz, and we’re not out to physically damage him.

Even though he deserves it.

“This is insane,” Blake says. He’s smiling, though, and I almost work up a smile in return.

Almost.

“You ready, George?” I ask, setting him down at the edge of Steve’s impeccably manicured lawn.

He chirps, bobbing a paw in the air.

I unhook his leash and point to the cans beside house. “Go on. Go find something good in the trash.”

“Completely nuts,” Blake adds with a bigger grin. “But you’re right, my Google Fu proves there’s no precedent on evidence obtained by trash panda.”

“See? I think brilliant was the word you were looking for.”

We hunch in the timber behind the brick ranch while George waddles across the yard until he reaches the trash cans beside the house. In three quick leaps, he’s teetering on the smaller recycling can while he lifts the lid on the big trash can a sliver and dives in, leaving it to drop closed behind him.