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What I learned about rats from the situation I was in was that I would never want to have a rat infestation in my home.

Because here’s the thing—these guys are champion reproducers.

Cupcake gave birth to thirteen baby rats, and they grew at an astonishing rate.

One day they were wriggly pink blobs, and a few days later they were growing peach fuzz, and in the blink of an eye they were the size of full-grown mice, covered in fur with their little eyes open.

And it turned out that a rat pregnancy only lasts about four weeks, and the babies can get pregnant when they’re five or six weeks old. The math on rat reproduction was staggering.

So many rats in such a short period of time.

So. Many. Rats.

That said, the babies proved to be a pretty decent draw for the café.

I figured since I was already in the business of adopting out cats, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find homes for the rats.

I drew up my own application and, in a stroke of brilliance, made it a policy that adopters had to take a minimum of two rats.

That meant I only needed to find six adopters, provided one person opted to take three.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten a single application. Plenty of people wanted to see them at the café, but not one person, upon seeing the chaotic mass of rats in the cage, said to themselves, “Wow. I want this in my own house.”

One Friday, a little over a week before Andi’s party, I had a group from a local elementary school come through.

The kids were enthralled with both the cats and the rats, and one particularly bright kid immediately set about trying to figure out what the babies’ father looked like based on the colors and patterns of the babies.

Meanwhile, the rest of the kids offered their input on potential baby names on the clipboard I’d set out to collect ideas.

After they left, I scanned the list.

“Ratty McRatface,” I read aloud. “Turdbucket. Oh—here’s a possibility if we ever decide to change your name, Jojo: Fart.”

Jojo plunked his butt down beside my feet and looked up at me, clearly unimpressed.

I bent down to rub him behind the ears. “I guess this is why no one lets kids name things.”

The sound of the café’s phone ringing made me straighten up. I hurried through the doors to the café area and grabbed for the phone by the register. “Hello?”

There was a long, breathy silence, and for a moment I thought I was the recipient of an old-fashioned obscene phone call. Then a distorted voice asked, “Did the Pied Piper like his gift?”

“Who is this?” I asked.

A click was the only response as whoever it was on the other end hung up.

I stared at the receiver, then set it back down.

I shivered, that creepy voice looping over and over in my head.

It shouldn’t have unsettled me quite so much.

I mean, the person sending Horst a message had obviously been to the café when he dropped off the rat.

A phone call wasn’t nearly as threatening.

But there was something so awful about that deep, slow voice, something that made my stomach twist.

The scrape of a shoe coming from my kitchen made me jump.

I whirled around, wondering how effective it would be to pelt an intruder with baked goods, but it was only Horst who stepped out from the kitchen.

His warm amber gaze took in what I imagined was my very pale face, one hand clutched to my chest and the other hand launching my first cupcake bomb.

He dodged the frosted missile easily, following its trajectory with his eyes until it landed with a yellow and white splat on the floor by the door.

Then he looked back at me. “That one didn’t live up to your expectations?”

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else,” I said.

“Someone you greet with hurled cupcakes?”

“No. The person who just called. They asked if you liked their gift.”

His jaw tightened as he glanced toward the door of the café. Then he slid closer and captured my cupcake-throwing hand, rubbing his thumb over my palm. “Well, of course I liked it. Who doesn’t like a present?”

“Do you know who it was that called?”

He slipped his arms around my waist. “I told you I don’t know who sent the rat.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Now, why don’t I clean up that mess while you tell me about your day.” Releasing me, he busied himself finding a roll of paper towels and some multipurpose cleaner.

“But—”

“Any good name ideas for the babies today?” he asked, crouching down to get to work on the floor.

I sighed. He wasn’t going to tell me even if he knew something.

“Not really, no.” Since it was nearly closing time, I grabbed a cookie from the display case and nibbled at the edge of it. Might as well eat it since it didn’t look like I was going to sell it today. “I can’t believe there are thirteen of them.”

Horst bunched up an overly enthusiastic wad of paper towels. “If you think about it, you really got an incredible deal on that rat. You paid ten bucks for her, and then you got thirteen extra for free. You’re a hell of a shopper, Glory O’Bryan.”

“Let’s hope I don’t find any more bargains like this one.”

“Thirteen. That’s a baker’s dozen, isn’t it? Seems like fate to me.” He finished cleaning up the cupcake, dumping the used paper towels into the trash. Then he disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear the water running as he washed his hands.

“Yeah, well, fate’s a bitch,” I called.

He returned, his head tipped at the precise angle you see male models do in cologne ads. “Or maybe fate knew those little babies would be safe with you.” His eyes softened. “Maybe fate knew you’re the kind of person vulnerable creatures can be safe with.”

I took another bite of my cookie, wondering if he meant more by that than just that I was a sucker for baby rodents. But it was Horst, and I didn’t always understand what he was trying to tell me.

Then he sauntered closer, a predatory aura around him. “I had a thought.”

“Was it about baby rats or sex?”

“Glory O’Bryan! Your mind is stuck in the gutter—and, yes, I’m feeling smug that gutter works for both rats and sex. Actually, I was thinking about neither of those things.”

“Oh?”

“I was thinking you need to unwind a little.”

“I don’t really have time to unwind. I’m still getting everything situated for the party and—”

He pressed a finger to my lips. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. So why not kill two birds with one stone?” His honey gold eyes glimmered. “Up for an adventure?”