Merry Murder at the Adobe - Bonus Chapter

Grok’s Fishy Finale

The air was cool, filled with the salty tang of the ocean mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling food. Strings of Christmas lights twinkled above the streets of Ocean Wood, and the gentle hum of holiday music floated from nearby shops.

Grok sat at Amanda’s side, his tail flicking with barely contained impatience, his yellow eyes locked on the brightly colored food truck parked just ahead. The truck was a vibrant masterpiece, its sides splashed with greens, yellows, and reds, decorated with a giant cartoon fish taking a triumphant bite out of a steaming pie. Across the top, in bold letters, the truck’s name read: El Rey de los Mariscos.

Amanda hadn’t even reached the truck when the horn blared a series of cheerful musical notes. She smiled, recognizing a food truck’s signature sound. A jolly figure in a red apron poked his head out of the window and immediately broke into a wide grin.

“Hola, Me llamo Raul. Hey, I know that logo” the man called. He pointed to Amanda’s t-shirt, which had “Pink Power Wash & Groom” emblazoned in big, bubbly letters, visible under her open jacket. “You’re the lady with the pink dog grooming truck with the big fur ears and the shrink-wrapped decal on the side that makes it look like a giant dog?”

“Guilty as charged, I’m Amanda,” she waved a hand then looked down at the cat. “And this is Grok. He has been waiting for your famous fish pie all week. I think it’s time we make his dream come true.”

The man’s eyes twinkled as he spotted the massive Maine Coon at her feet, eyeing the truck with laser focus. “Ah, the legendary Grok! The psychic cat who solves mysteries, eh? ¡Qué increíble! Well, I can’t say no to a hero! Wait right here, my friend.”

Grok let out an impatient growl, his tail thumping against Amanda’s boot as Raul disappeared into the back of the truck. The cat’s nose twitched as the scent of fish and savory pie filled the air, and he padded closer to the open serving window, his head tilted in anticipation.

Moments later, Raul reappeared with a plate held high. He lowered the plate, showing the much-anticipated fish pie. It was golden and flaky, with little fish-shaped cutouts decorating the crust, and revealing the rich, savory filling underneath. “El Gran Pie de Pescado for our most esteemed guest! I heard you were coming, so I set out a freshly baked pie to cool. It should be the perfect temperature for you.” Raul announced with a flourish, holding the plate out like an offering to royalty.

Amanda accepted the plate and placed it on the picnic table set up by the truck.

Grok jumped up on the bench and, ever the dignified feline sniffed at the pie delicately before taking a large, deliberate bite. His eyes half-closed in bliss, his long whiskers twitching as he savored the flavor.

Amanda chuckled at the sight of her usually snarky sidekick in such a state of pure contentment. “Well, that is the happiest he’s been in days,” she said, straightening up. “Raul, I have to know—what’s the secret behind this pie? It smells delicious.”

Raul’s grin widened, and he leaned on the counter, looking around conspiratorially before lowering his voice. “Ah, the secret? That comes from my great-grandmother. She married a British man, my grandfather, back in the day. This recipe is one of the many happy results of their union.” He winked, clearly proud of the family legacy.

“A British-Mexican fish pie?” Amanda raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Now that’s something special.”

Raul nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Sí, my grandmother was quite the cook, and she loved blending flavors. The pie is her take on a British classic but with a bit of Mexican flair. It’s been passed down through the generations, and here we are—El Rey de los Mariscos lives on!”

Amanda grinned, shaking her head in admiration. “Well, you’ve got a winner, that’s for sure. Grok’s approval is hard to come by, but I think you’ve got him hooked.” Amanda watched the large cat lick up the last crumbs.

Grok, his belly full and mission complete, sat back, licking his whiskers with a deep, satisfied purr. “This...was worth the wait,” he murmured, just loud enough for Amanda to hear.

Raul laughed heartily. “A stamp of approval from the great Grok himself—my bisabuela would be proud!”

At that moment, another group of hungry customers arrived. Amanda waved to Raul as she and Grok stepped back from the food truck. Raul’s festive truck, with its fish pie decal gleaming in the twinkling holiday lights. Amanda felt a warm contentment settle over her.

“Come on, Grok,” Amanda said, tugging on her coat. “I think your adventure is finally complete.”

With a final, satisfied swish of his tail, Grok padded alongside her, his belly full and his heart light. The mystery was solved, and the fish pie had been devoured. All was right in Ocean Wood. 

The End