Sleeping with the Fishes (A Paranormal Cozy Mystery) (Willow Bay Witches Book 6)

by Samantha Silver

  “It’s about Matt Smith,” I blurted out, and the receptionist’s eyebrows rose, the first real indication I had that she was a real person and not a robot.

  “You’re a reporter, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “No, nothing like that,” I said, pulling a business card from my wallet and handing it to her. “I had a bunch of business difficulties with Smith. He tried to buy the building and land that my clinic was on. I know one of Tony’s companies was suing Matt Smith, I wanted to chat with him. You never know, maybe something I know could help him, especially now that Smith is dead.”

  The receptionist looked at my business card for a second, as though deciding what to do. I had my fingers crossed behind my back; I really hoped this wasn’t a wasted trip. Finally, she spoke. “Sit down in one of those chairs there. I’ll see if it’s possible to make room in Mr. Fanchini’s schedule today.”

  I did a fist pump in my mind as Sophie and I headed toward the chairs. About ten minutes later the receptionist looked up at us. “Follow me please, I’ll take you to Mr. Fanchini.”

  We were led into a gorgeous office with floor-to-ceiling windows behind a fancy mahogany desk. The man behind the desk was dressed in an expensive suit, though no amount of money could hide the fact that he was grossly overweight. Looking to be in his mid-fifties, with greying hair and a bald patch, Tony Fanchini rose when we entered the room and motioned for us to sit down in the two plush leather chairs in front of his desk.

  “Ladies, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, shaking our hands. He was polite, but I couldn’t help but get a little bit of a creepy vibe off him. “I’m Tony Fanchini, owner here at Fanchini Enterprises. I hear we have–or should I say had–a mutual acquaintance.”

  “Yes, Matt Smith,” I replied. “I’m Angela Wilson.”

  “Sophie Hashimori,” Sophie added, as we both shook his hand and then sat down.

  “So I suppose you’ve heard the news he’s been killed,” I said.

  “Yes, my lawyer called me yesterday to let me know. He said it’s going to complicate our case tremendously. How were you involved with Smith?”

  “My vet clinic was on a property which Smith attempted to purchase. When I resisted him, Smith attacked my property, although it could never be proven, and after I convinced my landlord to sell the property to me instead, he set the vet clinic on fire.” I figured honesty was the best policy to get Fanchini to talk. He let out a low whistle.

  “Yes, that man certainly had ideas as to how to do business that had more to do with what he saw on television than reality. I’m going to assume you don’t know much about the property development business?”

  “That would definitely be a good assumption,” I replied.

  “The thing is, it’s actually quite a bit different to how things are portrayed on television. Of course there are disputes, and shady developers. But it’s a lot less exciting in real life. Shady developers usually either go broke, in which case they drive their BMWs around the corner and start up a new company, or they build a shoddy product. Either way, the parties involved end up going to court, and it’s all settled rather civilly. It’s extremely rare for a property developer to be involved in an actual violent crime.”

  “And that’s what you’re doing, going to court. Can I ask what your company is suing Smith for?”

  Tony Fanchini smiled, a slightly predatorial smile. “I can’t go into details for legal reasons, obviously, but I can give you the gist of it. After all, all of this is already public. One of my companies, Peacock Hills Property, is developing a new subdivision in a suburb east of here, in Springdale. Smith got wind of the plan, and bought a number of properties adjacent to the lots we purchased.”

  “So?” Sophie asked. “Isn’t that totally legal?”

  Tony smiled a wry smile at her. “It is. But then, after we began construction on our lots, Smith claimed that we were building on his property, and that the property line was in fact not where we thought it was. So he sued us.”

  “That’s strange,” I muttered. “I didn’t hear anything about their being an active case where Smith was the plaintiff.”

  “There isn’t, his case was thrown out of court three weeks ago,” Tony said. “I counter-sued as soon as he filed, but our case is still pending. We were certain to win before he died, and we’re still likely to win now. After all, we sued a company, not a person. Now we simply need to wait for the estate to be sorted, there will be delays, but I will get my money eventually. That’s the thing about people like Smith. They go to business school, they think they’re such hot stuff, and then the real world rakes them over the coals.”

  “Was his business partner, Jake, involved in this?” I asked.

  Tony shook his head. “No, Smith bought the land through a company where he was the sole owner. I’ve met Jacob, his business partner. He seems much smarter than Smith, and much more cautious. Less foolhardy. I imagine he refused to involve himself in this deal.”

  “So Smith being dead actually complicates things for you,” I said.

  “Yes, absolutely. I had an open and shut case to get damages and lawyer fees back, now it’s going to be more complex.”

  “Did Smith ever try to get revenge on you after he lost his case?”

  “If you’re asking if he tried to set my office on fire, no. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had something planned. I saw him sneaking around near the property one night when I went out to oversee some of the construction. I called the police, but he left before they arrived so they were unable to do anything. He was too hot-headed for his own good.”

  I nodded. “Ok, thanks. Let your lawyers know what I told you, if any of it can be of any use, your receptionist has my card.”

  “Will do. I doubt it will help, but you never know. It was nice to meet you,” he said. I left the office feeling as though I didn’t know anything about Tony Fanchini. He had no reason to kill Matt Smith at all, and yet there was something about him that I didn’t like, something I just couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  As Sophie and I got into the car, I sighed.

  “Yeah, I agree,” Sophie said. “I think we just eliminated another suspect.”

  “I just hope our trip to Sisters ends with a better result,” I said.

  Chapter 11

  Just over ninety minutes later we pulled into Sisters. I gave Sophie directions and we drove past the address where Richard Steele lived, presumably with his daughter. From the front, it looked like nothing special. An old barbed wire fence with wooden posts that looked like they’d been there at least five decades lined the front of the property. A good half dozen signs warning that it was private property and not to enter hung near the gate at the front of the property. A few large trees along the side of the road hid most of the property from view, but I could see a house in the distance.

  “Maybe just keep driving,” I suggested. “I don’t think this guy is going to be happy to get visitors.”

  Sophie and I drove back into downtown Sisters and parked the car on the main street. “So what are we going to do to try and figure out what’s up with this guy?” Sophie asked. “I mean, that was basically the sketchiest of sketchy farms ever, the type of place you see at the beginning of a horror movie just before a whole bunch of people die. Even those trees looked depressed.”

  I laughed, but Sophie was right. It didn’t exactly look like a welcoming place, and we both knew that if the owner was keeping smuggled exotic animals there, he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to see us.

  “Turn into birds again?” I suggested. A few months ago, while trying to investigate a different murder on a farm, I’d used my magic to turn us into birds. Unfortunately, the spell turned us into the birds that most suited us, and the universe decided I should be a Steller’s Jay, the world’s most annoying bird. I knew Sophie would be thrilled with this idea; she got to be a bald Eagle.

  “Definitely,” Sophie grinned. “It’s been at least two hours since I’ve heard the anno
ying screech of a Steller’s Jay in my ear.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “Let’s go back toward the house. We’ll park on the side of the road, but we’ll do it in the middle of nowhere so I can cast the spell without anyone seeing.”

  Sophie nodded and started the car up again as we made our way back out into rural Oregon. A few minutes later we parked on the side of the road. It wasn’t the safest looking spot, and seeing as the road was barely wide enough for two cars I wasn’t sure it was even legal to park here, but oh well. We weren’t going to be long, and this didn’t exactly look like a high-traffic area.

  “Ready?” I asked Sophie, who nodded. “I’ll make the spell last one hour this time. We’re not really looking for evidence of a murder after all, we’re just on a scouting mission. It’s two forty-five now, we have to be back by three forty at the absolute latest.”

  “Copy that,” Sophie said, nodding.

  “Reformaroa avem unum horoa,” I said, pointing a finger at Sophie. All of a sudden there was a blinding light, and when it dissipated a second later, Sophie had disappeared. Where she had been standing was now a bald eagle. She squawked at me.

  “That never stops being cool,” Sophie said before flying off in direction of the farm. I smiled. It had worked!

  I did the same spell again, this time pointing at myself. It felt like I was on a rollercoaster going up and down over and over. It was like my insides were swirling around inside of me. But only a second or two later, it stopped. I looked over at my blue-black wings and smiled. I was a Steller’s Jay once more.

  Flying up into the trees I took a moment to appreciate the beauty of flight. It was incredible, feeling the air beneath my wings as I floated through the sky. I swooped down, then with a couple beats of my wings flew back up high, getting a perfect look at the world below. It was absolutely breathtaking.

  However, I was also well aware that I only had an hour to see what was going on at the property owned by Richard Steele. It took only about two minutes to fly there–Sophie had already disappeared so I imagined for her larger wings it was even faster.

  When I finally reached the property, I saw Sophie sitting in a tree overlooking everything in her eagle form. It was a large property, but most of it seemed to be abandoned. There were no cows in the pastures, only overgrown grass, and an area in the far corner that looked like it had once been a berry patch but was now long since abandoned.

  The main house on the property was about a hundred feet from the road. It was actually surprisingly decent considering the state of everything else on the property. The typical rancher was made of wood, and looked like it needed a new coat of paint, but the bones of the house were obviously in good condition. The girl who had brought Lucy in was looking worriedly out one of the windows. I felt sorry for the girl, and I hoped she would manage to get out of there soon.

  Swooping around the house, I almost stopped in my tracks–well, whatever the flying equivalent was–when I saw what was on the back veranda. Chained to a post, lying in the sun was an actual, honest-to-God tiger. It was fully grown, like an absolutely huge kitty, but I knew all too well that wasn’t the case at all. Tigers were wild animals, and if it wanted to, I knew the tiger could cause a lot of damage.

  I did another circle around the house just to be sure, but yup, the next time I came around the tiger was still there. It was real. Deciding I needed to know if there were other exotic animals around, I made my way toward a barn about two hundred feet behind the main house. A tiny gap in the wood at the top was the perfect entrance, and I floated elegantly to it, landing on a shaky piece of wood.

  Looking down into the barn, I was absolutely amazed.

  Most of the barn had been converted into a kind of home for amphibians. I recognized a good handful of them from having seen them in textbooks back in veterinary school: Chinese striped turtles, South American red footed tortoises, Jacksons chameleons and more. Above them, in the rest of the barn, were a number of parrots. I recognized two black cockatoos–an endangered species from Australia–and red parakeets. There was even a kea, a New Zealand mountain parrot.

  “Oh my God,” I couldn’t help but say to myself.

  “Oh look, Cherie, we have a visitor,” one of the cockatoos said to the other, noticing me. “Welcome, bird native to this land. What brings you to our humble corner of the world today?”

  “I’m actually a human, but a human with magical powers who’s taken on a bird form. I’m a veterinarian in the human world, and I was brought a giraffe that came from this property. Do you know anything about that?”

  “But of course, you must mean Lucy,” the cockatoo named Cherie told me. “Such a lovely creature, do you know what has happened to her? The young woman, Gemma, came down the other day and took her away, and we haven’t seen her since. I do hope she’s all right. The Bad Man was outraged when he noticed she was gone; he ranted and raved for hours about robbers, and I was worried he would take out his anger on us.”

  “She’s fine,” I told the birds. “She’s living with me right now, Gemma was worried something bad might happen to Lucy, so she took her away.”

  “What a bright young woman. She’s very thoughtful, she brings us treats when she can. Lucy was let out into the yard about a week ago; she wasn’t eating from the ground and The Bad Man didn’t want her starving to death, so he let her into the yard. Unfortunately, Pericot almost got off his chain in his attempt to hunt her. That must have been what convinced Gemma to take Lucy,” Cherie said.

  “Pericot is the tiger?” I asked.

  “Yes, the poor creature. Lucy got quite the fright but I still feel awful for poor Pericot. He should be living free, not living on a veranda.”

  “Well, Coolidge, it isn’t as though our lives are particularly free either,” Cherie told the other cockatoo.

  “While you are correct, Cherie, we at least have the luxury of being able to spread our wings and fly, be it only in this barn or not.”

  “Ugh, Coolidge, you’re such an optimist. Our lives in here are awful. There is no stimulation whatsoever. I long to spread my wings and fly free over the mountains of my homeland once more.” My heart ached for the poor kea, who was so obviously miserable.

  “What is the point of looking sadly upon our lives, Hehu? These are the lives we have been destined to live, why not look favorably upon them?” Coolidge asked.

  “Have you ever tried escaping?” I asked.

  “Oh dearie me, yes,” Cherie replied. “However, there is a double door system, if you look to the entrance. And sadly, the hole through which you entered is too small for us to exit from.”

  I looked down at the barn door. Sure enough, there was a small chicken wire enclosure built around the door. Whoever entered the barn would come in, close the door to the barn, and then open the door of the chicken wire enclosure, so there was never any exit for the birds. They were permanently imprisoned here.

  “And Gemma hasn’t released you?”

  “Oh, she would like to, but the poor thing is terrified of her father. If it wasn’t for Lucy being in very real danger, I think she would have left her here as well. We don’t blame the poor girl, however. She does her best for us,” Cherie said.

  “She even brings us treats when she can, she’s the one good thing about this place,” Hehu said quietly.

  “Listen, I’m going to go back and meet up with my friend again. I promise, I’m going to be back, and I’m going to make sure you get to go back to where you three came from, ok?” I said. Suddenly, I felt a twist in my stomach. Oh no. I’d gotten so carried away talking to the birds that I hadn’t realized the hour was up. I was turning back into a human.

  Chapter 12

  Unfortunately, the change back to human form was so rapid I didn’t have the chance to fly off from my perch, about twenty feet up. I felt myself plummeting toward the ground, and I landed in a pile of hay with a cry. A shooting pain coursed up my right hand, and I grabbed it with my left with a yelp.


  “Are you all right?” I heard Coolidge ask. “I suppose this proves you weren’t lying about being a magical human.”

  “I’m fine, I think,” I said, forcing myself to my feet. Luckily, my legs were completely fine. There was only one problem: with my right hand injured, I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to be able to do any magic. I could try with my left, but magic worked a little bit like writing: it was way, way easier to do with your good hand, and I knew if I tried anything more complicated than an unlocking spell with my left, it wouldn’t go well.

  To test my right hand I pointed at my shoes. “Color tranfiguria caeruleus,” I said, trying to change them from black to blue. Nothing happened. Sure enough, my magic wasn’t going to work until my hand healed.

  “I’m going to guess that wasn’t what you were trying to do,” Hehu said, and I gave the kea a wry smile.

  “Good guess. I’m just going to have to get out of here the old fashioned way.”

  “Good, you’re making too much shade,” one of the iguanas said from near my feet. I had landed directly in the large pen the amphibians shared, although luckily there had been none resting on the pile of hay I’d fallen off.

  “Sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Would you all like to escape as well?” I asked. After all, the amphibians hadn’t joined the conversation I’d had with the parrots, and I thought perhaps they’d like the wild.

  “Absolutely not,” one of the turtles replied. “It’s warm here, and moving is just so much effort.”

  The rest of the reptiles and amphibians murmured their assent.

  “Ok,” I told them. “Let me get out of your hair.” I climbed out of the enclosure and into the narrow area in the middle of the barn that separated the amphibians’ dens and the stall that would have been Lucy’s, before Gemma brought her to me.

  I looked up at the parrots. “All right, I’m going to open both doors and let you go. My car is parked a few blocks from here, it’s a blue Mazda 3. If you can find it, there should be a girl who has black hair with a streak of purple in it waiting for me. She won’t be able to speak to you, but she will probably recognize you. Stay with her, no matter what. If for whatever reason you can’t find the car, make your way to Willow Bay. The birds there can tell you which house is mine. She might also be parked near the road in front of this place, especially since I was supposed to be back at the car a few minutes ago.”