Vicky began to shake, her walls rattling violently, my knickknacks clanking against one another. Pictures tipped sideways, and the floor beneath our feet rumbled while the pipes creaked and groaned.

"Oh my goodness, what's happening?" Maude asked. "I think we're having an earthquake."

"Or the house really is haunted," Mitch muttered.

"More like a Morty temper tantrum," I clarified.

"You're kidding, right?" Mitch raised his brows at me.

"Um, no. I told you that you'd thank me for my backup one day," I said and watched Detective Stone's eyes bug.

"What are you all blabbering on about?" Bernard asked, looking around uneasily.

"Behind you," I yelled, pointing up.

"I'm not falling for any tricks," Bernard said. "Just for that, you're going first." He pointed his gun straight at me. He c.o.c.ked the hammer and started to squeeze the trigger.

I let out a terrified wail and covered my mouth with both hands, my gaze locking onto Mitch's. He didn't hesitate. He jumped in front of me, wrapping his good arm around me with his back to Bernard.

An eerie meow echoed through the room, and Bernard yelled, "What in blue blazes is that?"

Mitch loosened his hold a little but still didn't let go of me as he turned us so we could both see.

Bernard had spun around, eyes wide with fright and disbelief as he stared up at a glowing Morty. Literally, his fur was an iridescent white, his eyes blacker than coal. Bernard lifted his gun in the cat's direction. Morty sat on the very top of the bookshelf, ready to pounce. At the last second, he leapt in the air with a loud howl and landed on Bernard's head. Bernard bellowed, dropped the gun, and latched onto the cat, who had his claws sunk deep into his skull.

Mitch grabbed my hand and instructed me to hold Maude's hand, and then he pulled both of us out of the way just as Morty launched himself off Bernard and followed close on our heels. A bleeding Bernard faced us once more with rage in his eyes. He bent over to pick up his gun, and the bookshelf teetered precariously as though some supernatural force were helping it along.

Looking up in shock, Bernard never had the chance to utter a single word. The bookshelf came crashing down on top of him, and my hardcover volumes buried every inch of his body.

Mitch picked up his gun and scrambled over to the shelf. He found Bernard's arm and felt for a pulse, then looked at us with relief. "He's alive but barely."

Maude picked up a book, then stared toward the heavens with an angelic smile on her lips. "So be it," she said quietly, and I was sure we were all thinking the same thing. Amanda Robbins, ever the librarian, was with us in spirit, and Bernard had gotten exactly what he deserved.

Maude sat down in the corner to wait for the police and started to read, looking strangely at peace. Morty appeared by my side, purred, and then licked the spot he'd scratched earlier. I petted him on the head in forgiveness.

"Guess you make a pretty good watch cat, after all," I said.

He gave me a bored look that said, Was there ever any question?

I giggled, then wandered over to check on Mitch's head and arm. "You okay?" I asked.

"No, I'm not okay." He stared at me for a moment, full of raw emotion blazing from his normally unreadable eyes. Then he pulled me into an awkward embrace with his good arm, his injured one still hanging uselessly at his side. His face looked pinched as his gaze roamed over my features tenderly; then he cursed softly and his head swooped down to mine.

His lips were firm as they pressed against mine, then softened as they began to move. My lips parted, and he slipped inside, possessing my very soul. Warm tingles traveled down my spine all the way to my toes, and heat flooded my every cell. My arms wound around his neck, and I stepped on his toes, pulling him even closer. I plunged my hands into his hair and kissed him back with all my heart.

When we were both out of breath, we broke apart and rested our foreheads against each other. Morty walked in circles around our entwined legs, purring and rubbing up against us both.

Mitch looked down and scoffed. "Oh, so now you like me?"

Morty looked up at him, flicked his tail, and then walked off regally, with his nose in the air as if to say, That will so never happen. Mitch chuckled.

"So does that mean you finally believe me?" I asked quietly.

The corner of one side of his mouth tipped up slightly. "I believe you're innocent, if that's what you mean. I always did, Tink. I just had to keep you on your toes."

"That's good to hear, but that's not what I mean." I studied him, waiting.

"I believe your cat is . . . different . . . if that's what you mean."

I set my jaw and took a step back, crossing my arms. "I agree, Morty is unique, but that's not what I mean, either."

Mitch sighed, running a hand through his thick dark strands and then scrubbing his palm over his five o'clock shadow. "I believe that you believe you're psychic. Isn't that enough?"

I searched his eyes and knew in my gut that it wasn't. As much as he moved me, I wanted someone who believed in me fully. I wanted someone who accepted me for who I was, who embraced me and all that I represented. I said sadly, "No, it's not enough. I'm sorry, but I want it all."

"That's what I was afraid you were going to say," he said grimly. "Sunny, I-"

My breath hitched. "Say it again."

He looked at me funny. "What?"

"My name." I smiled softly, touching his cheek. "That's the first time you've called me by my name."

He coughed, removing my hand from his cheek and holding it in his own. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." I slipped my hand from his and patted his arm. "I already know."

He puckered his brow. "But how?"

"My vision, remember."

"Ah, right. Your vision." He made a set of air quotes, and we could hear the sirens right outside my door now.

"Friends." I held out my hand.

He stared at me for a moment, shook my hand, and then shoved his hands in his pockets. "Sure. As long as we're not partners, we can be anything you want."

"I will make you a true believer one day."

He tweaked my nose. "Not if I prove all your fortune-telling stuff is nonsense first."

I narrowed my eyes. "Game on."

He matched my expression. "I always did like a good challenge."

"Good," Captain Walker said as he followed the ambulance crew into my living room. "Then you're going to love what I've got planned for you both."

"And what might that be?" Mitch asked, all joking aside and traces of humor erased from his expression.

"The challenge of working together on a permanent basis." Captain Walker grinned wide.

"Excuse me?" I asked, striving to comprehend what was happening. "I thought our working arrangement was only temporary as a way to solve this case and clear my name?"

"No way in h.e.l.l am I working with an amateur on a permanent basis," Mitch snapped. "Captain, you saw what a disaster this last case was."

"What are you talking about?" I gaped at Mitch. I couldn't believe after the conversation we'd just had, he was throwing me under the bus the first chance he got. "This so-called amateur solved this case."

"Are you kidding me?" Mitch poked me in the chest with his good hand. "You nearly got yourself killed."

"I nearly got us killed?" I poked him right back. "If you hadn't come barreling in like Rambo, you wouldn't have gotten yourself shot."

"And we're back," Captain Walker said on a grin. "There's the dynamic duo I know and love. You two have great chemistry. You're so compet.i.tive, that's what keeps you sharp and makes you work harder to outdo each other. In the process, cases get solved, and isn't that the point?"

"But she-" Mitch started to say.

Captain Walker held up his hand. "Keeps you on your toes. Presents a challenge."

"And he-" I started to add.

Captain Walker held up his other hand. "p.i.s.ses you off. Gives you something to prove."

Mitch and I both started shouting at once.

"Silence, you two!" Captain Walker swiped his hand through the air. "Once again, you don't have a choice. Mayor Cromwell is a true believer and thinks Sunny is the breath of fresh air this town needs to crack down on crime. And Chief Spencer is behind him one hundred percent. So from here on out, Miss Meadows will be your unofficial partner, Detective Stone. A consultant of sorts to help solve future crimes in Divinity. You should feel lucky."

"Lucky? This is a disaster in the making, and you know it. You can't force her to do this, you know." The detective faced me. "Be reasonable, Sunny. You know you're not up for this. Tell them no. They can't make you work with me."

"Oh, don't you call me Sunny, you Grump b.u.t.t."

"Enough with the grump overkill, already." He put his hands on his hips and stared me down.

"If the adjective fits . . ." I crossed my arms over my chest and stared right back.

"Since you're so bubbly all the time, what's that make you-Bubble b.u.t.t?"

"I'll take that as a compliment. They don't call me Sunny for nothing."

"Yeah, well, I never did like my eggs sunny side up. They're way too runny, kind of like your runaway mouth every time we investigate. Face it, Tink. You don't have a clue what it takes to be a real detective."

I narrowed my eyes, seething and more determined than ever. "Just for that comment alone, I'm going to prove you wrong." I looked Captain Walker dead in the eye and simply said, "I'm in."

"Fine, it's your funeral," Detective Stone grumbled.

"Careful, Detective." I smirked. "It just might be yours."

He threw his hand up, cursing under his breath, and marched away mumbling, "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Better get some help, stat," I yelled after him. "You're gonna need it."

Epilogue.

"Bye, Mayor Cromwell," I said from my front door as the man walked to his car. "I'd say good luck in the upcoming election, but we both know you won't need it." I winked.

"Thanks, Miss Meadows," he said from the end of my driveway. "Same time next week?" he asked. "I have a few more questions I need answered."

"I'll check my calendar and give you a call. I'm sure we can squeeze you in somewhere. Business is booming these days."

"I'm sure it is. Then again, I never had any doubt you would be a huge success."

"And that, good sir, is why you make such a great politician. You're very charming."

He saluted me, then climbed in his car and drove away.

My parents pulled into my driveway, doing a double take as the mayor drove away. "I see you're coming along quite well," my father said as he walked up the driveway, escorting my mother. "Wasn't that Mayor Cromwell?"

"One and the same." I beamed proudly. "And yes, business has picked up tremendously now that the case has been solved. Would you like to come in?"

"No, no." My mother glanced around, looking for Morty. "We're fine right out here on the front porch."

"But it's still winter," I pointed out.

"Ah, yes, but the sun is shining," my father boomed. "It's a fine day for farewells."

I blinked. "Are you serious? You're leaving?"

"Well, don't look so thrilled, darling." My mother sniffed sharply.

"Mom, I didn't mean it like that. I just mean we all know we get along much better from a distance. Think how great Easter will be after going all those months without seeing each other." I stretched my mouth wide until my teeth ached. One could dream. "Besides, I really want to make it on my own this time. For real."

"I suppose she is getting rather old not to be doing something with her life, Vivian," Dad said, patting her on the back.

"Gee, thanks, Dad." I think. But hey, whatever it took to make them leave, I was up for. It wasn't that I didn't love them. I knew they cared about me in their own unique way, but I needed my s.p.a.ce. I think we all did.

"I suppose you're right, Donald." Mom dusted off her suit. "Before we leave, I thought you might like to know that Pendleton fellow was caught trying to cross the Canadian border."

"Oh, well that's a relief," I said. "And just so you know, Mrs. Sampson is moving in with her oldest daughter and her family, who, unlike Bernard, seem only too happy to have her with them."

"Yes, well, must be nice to have daughters like that." Mom inspected her fingernails. "Anyway, I admit, it appears as though you really can take care of yourself. So I guess we'd better be on our way."

"Does that mean you believe in my gift?" I asked quietly. No matter how old I became, it still seemed so important to receive my parents' approval.

My father stared hard at me for a long time. Then he finally nodded once. "Well, I don't know how much I truly believe, but logically, a lot happened that can't be explained. It would seem there might be something to this nonsense after all."