Home is Where the Bark Is

by Stella St. Claire

  Willow crossed her arms across her chest and tried to keep calm as she said, “I knew he could do it and that he would enjoy it. That’s why I taught him how to run an obstacle course. I guess I know not to judge a book by its cover.”

  Griffin snorted.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  She kept staring at him. Finally, he said, “I remember you making a lot of judgments in your high school days.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Weren’t you a detective-in-training while in high school or something like that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if I’d describe it that way,” Willow said. “And I still don’t see what you’re driving at.”

  “Well, back then,” Griffin said, opting to look at a rotting platform instead of her, “there were times you could make quick decisions. You could be judgmental.”

  Willow tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and think of a positive way to spin what he had just said, but she couldn’t. Her cheeks flushed with anger. There were too many responses flashing through her head for her to pick one. Why did he insult her like that when she had just been trying to stand up for her dog? It couldn’t be good for business to call your customers judgmental, could it? And why did he have to bring up her high school days?

  Even though being back in Pineview brought up old memories, Willow didn’t want to be reminded of her old investigative hobby. There was a point in time, fueled by her father’s teachings and aware of her natural talents, when she thought that she might have been a good detective. However, that was before she’d been embarrassingly proven wrong.

  She had tried very hard not to be thought only as “the police chief’s daughter.” She was no longer a detective-in-training and didn’t want to be thought of that way anymore – especially if it was in a mean-spirited memory from a former classmate.

  Before Willow could say any of these things, Telescope cried out. He was no longer running happily across the course. His back leg was sinking in the dirt. He flailed and called out for help as he sank deeper.

  Willow sprinted over to him, ready to rescue her baby. Griffin was by her side. In fact, Griffin moved so quickly to help the dog that Willow thought she might be able to forgive him for his harsh words

  “We’re going to get you out. You’re such a good boy,” Willow said, soothingly.

  Tele seemed to relax when he heard Willow’s words and saw that they were close by. Willow knelt down in the dirt and dug the dog out. Griffin helped and together they pulled Telescope free.

  Willow hugged him to her chest, and he licked her face. He kept sitting on her lap as she brushed the dirt off of his fur. She was telling Telescope what a brave boy he was when Griffin let out a cry of alarm.

  Willow glanced up at him. They were both covered in dirt, but she didn’t see that as a reason to yell.

  “It’s just dirt,” she said, brushing off her own clothes. “As a contractor, I would have thought you’d be used to it by now.”

  “It’s not the dirt,” Griffin said, pointing to what appeared to be pale white fingers sticking out of the ground.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Willow asked, turning pale.

  They had moved some of the dirt when they rescued Telescope, and that had revealed what was underneath. She was more and more certain of what they were about to find, though she kept wishing she would be wrong.

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. She shakily got to her feet and brushed a little more of the dirt away before Griffin pulled her back.

  It was too late. She had already seen it. It was definitely a human hand buried in the ground, and it looked like the hand was attached to a body.

  There was a dead body in her backyard.

  As if he sensed her apprehension, Telescope leaned against her leg. She patted his head as thanks and pulled out her cell phone. The police needed to know about this ASAP.

  Her call went through. “I’d like to talk to Police Chief Frank Wells, please.”

  She was going to have to take him up on his offer. It seemed she was going to need his help after all.

  3

  The next morning, Willow was ready and waiting when Griffin arrived at her house before 8 a.m. again. She pushed a cup of coffee into his hand when she opened the door.

  “Good morning,” Willow said. “Or as good as it can be, considering everything.”

  He followed her inside to her kitchen with a neutral expression on his face. Telescope came out to greet him, but Griffin stepped right past him. Willow accepted his affections instead and scratched the dog’s ears.

  “It’s funny,” Willow said, setting her coffee mug down. “I feel like I didn’t get any sleep last night, but I’m more wide awake than I usually am. I guess finding a dead body has that effect.”

  She cringed as the words came out of her mouth and poured herself another cup of coffee, this time opting to make it sweeter than usual and adding extra vanilla creamer.

  It had been a long and trying day after she called her father to report what was buried in her yard. She tried to diffuse the tension by joking about how many people thought that her yard should be covered with crime scene tape all along, but her father barely cracked a smile.

  Instead, he’d questioned Willow and Griffin about finding the body while the uniformed officers scoured her yard looking for evidence. After making their statements, Griffin was told that he could leave. Griffin had said goodbye and left quickly, leaving Willow and Telescope to wonder what else would be found in her yard.

  Willow spent the afternoon alternating between staring out the window, watching the police work and pointedly trying not to look. At the end of the day, Frank had told her a few facts about the case. She knew her father wasn’t one to share more information than necessary, but she guessed this was because he wanted her to feel safe in her house. Based on the questions she asked when they gave their statements about finding the body, Willow could tell the police suspected that the victim was the missing land developer, Lee Hunter. Her father confirmed this and also told her how the man was killed.

  Her dad suggested she say with him for the night, but she politely refused. The floor-wax he used to keep his kitchen clean, wreaked havoc with Telescope’s sense of balance. She also didn’t like the idea of being scared out of her house.

  Trying to focus on the day ahead and the progress that could be made, instead of the horror of the previous day, Willow turned to Griffin.

  “How are you today?” she asked.

  Griffin shrugged.

  “Well, I’m glad this didn’t scare you off,” she said, trying to be extra cheerful. “I would hate to find another contractor. Both because of the time frame and because you’re good at what you do.”

  He didn’t even smile at the compliment. He just nodded. Willow realized that Griffin hadn’t said one word since he had walked in the door. She bit her lip.

  “You’re very quiet today,” she said. “Is this how you process shock?”

  “I don’t know how I process shock,” Griffin said, breaking his silence. Based on the intense grip he had on his coffee mug, it looked like he might break that as well. However, instead, he took a sip and went back to brooding.

  Willow took a step towards him. “I’m sorry if you wanted to talk about it more yesterday. I know we didn’t have the chance while the police were here. Maybe I should have called, but I was having trouble processing what just happened.”

  “I felt the same way,” he said.

  Willow frowned. Why was he avoiding eye contact? It was a terrible thing for them to find a dead body, but it was an experience that they shared. They should be able to commiserate together.

  She looked down at her dog who was paying her more attention than the human in the room. He pawed the ground, which she took to mean “try something else.”

  “I knew there would be trouble fixing up an old house, but I didn’t expect anything like this!” W
illow joked. She laughed, hoping Griffin would join in, but he just nodded again.

  She shrugged at her dog and gulped down the last of her drink.

  “Well, I guess we should get started,” Willow said, hoping that focusing on the task at hand would snap Griffin out of his funk. “We’re on a tight timeline, but I think we can still get everything accomplished on time. I’ll still be ready to get dogs trained for show season.”

  She clapped her hands together. Griffin didn’t move.

  “Are they really going to let us get any work done today?” he asked. “Isn’t this considered a crime scene?”

  “If the whole property was considered a crime scene, do you think I would have been able to stay here?” she challenged.

  “I guess not.”

  “Where they found the body is off limits, but there’s still a lot we can do with the house.”

  She started down the hall, and Griffin reluctantly followed. She spun around when she reached the parlor that would be turned into her office. Telescope danced around the room. Willow imagined that he was excited by the design plans too.

  “We can get started here,” she said with a smile. “You were going to extend this area by moving a wall. That sounds like a big job. One we might as well work on now.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that someone’s dead body was found here?” he asked.

  Willow’s smile fell, and she sighed. “Of course, it bothers me.”

  “But you still want to proceed with your plans?”

  She slumped into a chair but then locked eyes with Griffin. “I hate that this terrible thing happened here. But I can’t let it stop me from having a house – from making it my home. And I can’t let it stop me from restarting my dream business. The other sad truth is that the murder happening here seems to be random.”

  “Random?” Griffin asked, joining her in another chair.

  “Lee Hunter didn’t have any relationship to Aunt Edna or me,” Willow explained. “I think it happened here because the house was empty.”

  Telescope moved closer and rested his head on her leg. He always made her feel supported.

  “I’d never met him,” Willow said. “I think that bothers me about this situation too. The man’s final resting spot is in my backyard, and yet I have no idea who he is.”

  “Maybe you’re lucky about that,” Griffin said.

  He stood up quickly and walked over to the window. Willow stared at his back.

  “They questioned you about Lee Hunter before, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you know him?”

  “Work.”

  “You’re a contractor for him?”

  “No.”

  Willow was tired of the one-word responses. She could think of a few words she’d like to call Griffin, the nicest being “uncooperative.” However, she reminded herself that people reacted to death differently. She joined him at the window and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Look, if he was your friend and you need some time off to grieve, just let me know.”

  “He wasn’t my friend,” Griffin said.

  Willow took a step back. It was clear that Griffin was not a fan of the dead man. She wondered what problems he could have had with Lee Hunter.

  Though she might find him stubborn at times, Griffin was a good man. She remembered his kindness in high school, and more recently, Aunt Edna had spoken his praises. If he held such animosity towards Lee Hunter, it would indicate that the deceased was not a great guy. That would also mean that there would be plenty of suspects in the case.

  She shook her head to clear it. She didn’t want to think about the murder. She wanted to focus on fixing her house and starting her business.

  However, Griffin decided to start using more than one word at a time and asked, “Are they sure it’s murder?”

  Willow nodded. “My dad told me about the cause of death. It was a blow to the head. He had some other injuries too, but the head injury is what killed him.”

  Griffin just frowned. Sensing that he didn’t want to talk about the murder anymore and not having any success knocking Griffin out of his funk, Willow tried to focus on business again.

  She walked over to a wall and patted it.

  “Well, this wall isn’t going to move itself,” she teased. “Why don’t you get to work, tiger?”

  She cringed inwardly as she realized that she just called him tiger. He raised an eyebrow at her. Telescope was staring at her too, but she imagined that was because she had just made a cat reference in his presence.

  Then, Griffin let out a little chuckle. “Tiger?”

  Willow shrugged. “I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

  Though not completely relaxed, Griffin seemed a tad less grumpy. “I’m sorry for the delay this morning. Besides the—”

  “Murder?”

  “I was going to say unpleasantness. Besides that, I’m waiting for some equipment to arrive and your appliances that I could install. I expected the delivery at eight.”

  “I guess not everyone is as punctual as you,” Willow said.

  He was frowning again as he stared out the window and saw no sign of the delivery. He tapped his fingers on the glass impatiently.

  “Why don’t you call them?” Willow suggested. “I wanted to give Tele a bath anyway, so you can let me know how it goes.”

  She slipped out of the room before Griffin could give her another short response and before Telescope could escape from her. Telescope didn’t dislike baths at cat-level hatred, but he wasn’t a big fan of them. He struggled in her grasp as she carried him to the bathroom.

  “Tele, there’s no fighting it,” she said firmly. “You were in the dirt and near a dead body. You need a bath. The brushing you got yesterday isn’t going to cut it, and we put it off long enough already.”

  Telescope didn’t accept her rationale and wiggled in her arms. She made sure that the bathmat was in place so he wouldn’t slip on ceramic and she put his rubber ducky toy inside so he could lean on it if he needed to. She checked the water – perfectly warm without being too hot. She added some bubbles and got the dog inside the tub.

  “You’re actually pretty lucky, pup. I wish I got to take luxurious baths like you do.”

  Telescope looked at her unhappily. She grabbed a washcloth and began cleaning his coat.

  “Maybe next time I’ll light some candles and play some relaxing music?” she teased.

  Telescope whined. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was generally displeased with the bath or he didn’t like her joke.

  Downstairs it sounded as if someone else was unhappy. She heard bits of shouting and figured Griffin’s calls weren’t going well. While most of what he said was indistinguishable, she could tell that he was upset. The two things she did hear him yell clearly were “This is unacceptable!” and “Can you explain why?” She tried not to think about what those phrases meant for her renovations.

  She declared Telescope clean and helped him out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and placed it over him. She was just about dry him when she heard Griffin in the hall.

  “I just took him out of the tub,” she called.

  Griffin opened the door. Before Willow could tell him what a mistake this was, Telescope had scooted forward and away from her, shedding his towel. He completed his full body shake on his way out the door, leaving the humans covered in leftover doggie bathwater. For a small dog, he sprayed an awful lot of liquid.

  “Well,” Griffin said, as he brushed the droplets from his face. “That’s fitting with the type of day I’m having.”

  “Bad news with the equipment?” Willow asked, grabbing a clean towel.

  “The reason the equipment never showed up was because my debit card was declined,” he said, heading into the hallway so that he had room to pace. “I didn’t understand it, so I called my bank. All of my accounts have been frozen.”

  “But why?” Willow asked.

  Before he had a chance t
o answer, her doorbell rang. She hurried to the door, conscious that she would be greeting her caller smelling like a wet dog.

  She smiled when she opened the door and saw her father on the porch. This time she was underdressed because he was in his Chief of Police uniform, and she was in damp, smelly clothes. However, she was touched to see him on her doorstep.

  “Are you checking up on me?” she asked. “It was a shock yesterday, but I’m holding up fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Wills,” he said, stepping into her house. “But I’m actually here to talk to Griffin Maynard. He is here, isn’t he?”

  Griffin joined them in the entryway. “I’m here.”

  “Why do you want to talk to Griffin?” Willow asked, stepping in between the two men.

  “I’d like to talk to him some more about Lee Hunter,” Frank said, evenly.

  “But we already gave our statements about finding the body,” Willow said. “And I need him here. We need to figure out how to continue with my house after some machinery didn’t arrive.”

  “I’m afraid this isn’t about coming across the remains. Griffin is a suspect in the murder,” Frank said, stepping past her and eyeing Griffin. “Would you mind coming down to the station and answering some questions for me?”

  Willow was stunned. Could her father really think that Griffin was guilty?

  “Am I under arrest?” Griffin asked, maintaining eye contact.

  “No,” Frank Wells said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “This is just a friendly request.”

  Willow recognized her father’s tone and gulped. It wasn’t really a request.

  4

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Willow repeated. She had lost track of how many times she had uttered those words as she paced her house. She felt on edge and didn’t know how to expend the anxious energy. However, pacing through the hallway really wasn’t helping. Seeing the unfinished rooms that were supposed to be under construction just reminded her of her troubles.

  She leaned against the doorframe of her hopefully-soon-to-be-office and looked around. She felt like punching the walls but knew making dents would just add to her long list of repairs that were already being delayed. Instead, she resumed pacing.