Page 25 of Whispers and Wildfire
“Hi, Aunt Louise,” I said, getting her attention.
She turned with a big pink-lipstick smile and took a pair of oversized sunglasses off her face. “Hi there, dear. You’re just the man I wanted to see.”
“Do you have a car that needs to be restored?”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
I knew she wasn’t there about a car. She drove a beige Buick that my uncle George kept in pristine condition for her. There was only one reason Aunt Louise ever appeared, and I needed to head her off before she got too deep into her ask.
“I didn’t think so,” I said. “Before you say anything, I love you, but the answer is no.”
“No to what? I haven’t asked you anything.”
“But you were going to.”
“Hear me out first. You’re going to love this.”
“I don’t care who she is. This isn’t a good time.”
“Who, who is?”
“The girl you’re trying to set me up with.”
She blinked in confusion. “I’m not trying to set you up with a girl.”
“You’re not?”
“No, of course not.”
I resisted the urge to facepalm. “Don’t sound so shocked. You’re usually trying to set me up with someone.”
She waved that off. “Another time. I’m here about the Squirrel Protection Squad.”
I didn’t know what was weirder—that my aunt was forever trying to set up her nephews on dates or that I lived in a town with an organization called the Squirrel Protection Squad. And they were completely serious.
They’d formed when someone was stalking my now sister-in-law Audrey and left a dead squirrel outside her house. Somehow, they’d morphed from protecting wildlife to a civilian security detail.
“What about the SPS? I think they have plenty of volunteers.”
“They certainly do. Which is why they need a headquarters.”
“Headquarters? Wow.”
“It’s going to be fantastic. Plenty of space for meeting with new recruits, and they’ll be able to hold first aid and CPR classes—for humans and squirrels.”
“CPR for squirrels?”
She nodded. “Mm-hmm. You know the empty storefront in that old strip mall? The one next to the Knotty Knitter? They got a great deal from the owner, which is why the whole thing is possible. Josiah and your dad already volunteered to help with any necessary renovations. But there’s still more to be done, which is where I come in.”
“You need more help with renovations?”
“No, no. Doris Tilburn and I are planning a fundraiser. It’s going to be very fancy. The Grand Peak Hotel donated their ballroom.”
“So you’re looking for donations or sponsors or something?”
“That would be wonderful, but it’s not why I came. I need your help with the event itself.”
Help with a fundraiser? That didn’t sound terrible. But I still hesitated, my instincts telling me she was up to something.
