Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 295: The Cochineal Secret

Nancy covered the glass tank with a black cloth to block Mist’s view. The snake was getting way too distracted by Simon.

Master Crow was too busy acting as a headhunter to join them. He spent his days finding weak wild birds and referring them to the research base for a fee. He’d flat-out refused the invitation to go for a hike.

By noon, the siblings and their animal crew reached the paint factory at Dorne Hill.

Chunk the bat was still out cold, hanging upside down in the back of the car. Nancy left the vents on so the little guy wouldn't overheat while he slept.

Nancy had a lightweight carrier on her back and Snowball the stoat tucked into her pocket. Simon carried the travel crate for the squirrels.

They looked like a professional hiking duo; Simon in solid black and Nancy in crisp white.

They stopped at a snack stand.

"The records say this used to be Randall’s place," Simon said. "It’s a taco shop now."

He looked at the neighboring stores. "These places have been here for years. The neighbors will remember him."

Nancy pulled out a photo of Randall and approached a shopkeeper. "Hey there. Do you remember the guy who used to run the diner here?"

The neighbors started talking.

"The diner? Yeah, that was a few years ago. We called the owner Sam. Never knew his real name."

"He was a good guy. Hard worker. He used to deliver boxed lunches to the factory across the street every single day."

"Right! His food was so good he basically had the factory’s business locked down."

"Then he just vanished. We figured someone ran him out of town because they were jealous of his profits."

Nancy whispered to Simon, "He was a damn good mole."

"He missed his calling," Simon muttered. "He should've been an actual spy."

Nancy then showed them the photo of Tammy. "What about her? Her name is Tammy Summers. Did she live around here?"

Nobody recognized her until someone mentioned Madam Bertha at the junkyard.

"She’s the local historian," the shopkeeper said. "If anyone knows, it’s her."

They found Bertha, and she squinted at the photo until her eyes lit up.

"I saw her a few times when I was picking up scrap at the factory. She worked there. Kept to herself, though. She lived on-site, so she didn't really mix with the locals."

Bertha leaned in. "But she was tight with the lady who owns Lakeside Paints. They were like sisters. I think the girl was there to help breed some kind of bugs they use for dye."

Nancy and Simon headed straight for Lakeside Paints.

The place was a relic. It was an old-school factory that still ground minerals and plants by hand to make pigments.

Inside the gates, they saw rows of cactus pads on bamboo racks. They were covered in tiny white insects.

Nancy’s eyes went wide. "Cochineal! That’s it!"

She walked over to the racks. "These are used for high-end dyes and lipsticks. They aren't native to this area. You need a specialist to breed them. Mom was a researcher. She wasn't just working here; she was the expert."

"That makes sense," Simon said. He looked toward a small building nearby.

The sign on the door was gone, but you could still see the outline of the word office in the wood.