The Purr-fect Crime: Willow Bay Witches #1

by Silver, Samantha

  “Really? You’re wearing that?” Charlotte asked Sophie as she looked my best friend up and down. I had to bite my lip to stop from laughing. Sophie had always had a bit of a – unique – style, but even I thought she was pushing it a little bit for a funeral.

  “What?” she asked, scowling. It’s black, what’s the problem?”

  Sophie was wearing shiny black leggings with a halter crop top and Doc Martens style boots. I had to admit, it looked super hot, but it was definitely not funeral material.

  “It’s not… really what I would wear to a funeral where I don’t want to stand out,” I told her. “And that’s what we’re trying to do. Not stand out. The leggings are fine. But you need to change your shirt, and also the boots. Like, wear a pair of black flats or something. Please.”

  Sophie glared at both of us.

  “You guys get to wear what you want.”

  “Our first picks were socially acceptable funeral wear,” Charlotte shot back, and when Sophie looked at me for support, I could only shrug.

  “No. This is what I’m wearing.”

  “I will curse you,” I told her. “I’ll make it so your leggings rip when we’re out in public.”

  I stared my best friend down. I loved her, but sometimes, she just needed a bit of incentive to do the right thing. She stared right back at me, and I could see her trying to read if I was bluffing.

  “Fine. But I hate both of you,” Sophie finally capitulated as she went back up the stairs to change.

  Luckily, when she came back down later she’d replaced the crop top with a flowy shirt, the boots with ballet flats, and added a huge, oversized black hat to the ensemble. She looked like a grieving hippie, but that was still a lot better than before.

  “There. Now if you’re both finished being my mothers, we have to go, or we’re going to be late.”

  Bee was lying in a ray of sunlight by the front door and was visibly annoyed when we all stepped over her to get out.

  “Good. Get out. You’re ruining my sun,” she grumbled as Charlotte opened the front door.

  “Maybe you could try finding a less convenient position next time,” I shot back at her, and got my ankle swiped at for my trouble.

  “I swear, sometimes Bee makes me wish I was a dog person,” I muttered as I closed the front door behind me.

  “You say that, but you love that cat more than you love me,” Charlotte told me, and Sophie laughed.

  “That’s so true,” she added, and I blushed.

  Ok, fine. I love my cat. Even when she’s at her catty worst.

  We all piled into Charlotte’s car, a 1996 Honda Civic with half a million miles on it that somehow managed to make it to and from Portland four times a week, even though I joked that it probably shouldn’t be allowed on the Interstate at all. Charlotte loved the car, though, and even gave her a name: Dora.

  “Alright Dora, we’re just going down to the church today,” Charlotte told the car, giving her an encouraging pat as she put the key in the ignition. “Let’s do this, girl.”

  Sophie and I giggled silently together as Charlotte gave her car a pep talk. I had offered to buy her another one, something that could actually go 70mph, but Charlotte always refused. She said she liked Dora, and she was attached. I just figured my little sister was going a bit nuts.

  Ten minutes later we joined what seemed like the entire town of Willow Bay at the local church, where Tony Nyman’s funeral was to be held. Apparently the allure of a funeral from a murder was exciting enough to bring out most of the population, especially on a Sunday.

  “I feel so self-conscious now, like we’re just like everyone else, looking for gossip about a dead person,” Charlotte muttered as we walked through the crowd towards the church. The inside was already so packed with people that there were no more seats, and the walls were lined with people as well.

  “I know,” I replied. “Me too. Even though I know we’re just looking for clues about who might have killed him. Do you see anyone that doesn’t really belong here?”

  Sophie nudged me and I looked to my left. Standing about ten feet away from us were some very, very shady looking dudes.

  I had never seen them before. Hell, I’d never even seen people like them before. There were three of them, all men. Two of them looked to be in their 50s or so, with greying black hair that was gelled back from their heads in a way that somehow made them seem balder than they actually were. The third one’s hair was a little bit messy, and he looked around constantly, like he was a little bit more uncomfortable being here.

  All three of them were wearing bespoke black suits that probably cost more than what most people in Willow Bay made in a month. They were wearing sunglasses, which fit the fact that it was a nice, sunny day out, but just the way they were wearing them made it seem like they were doing it to be more threatening and hide their faces.

  Yeah, there was definitely something weird about this trio. They definitely didn’t belong here, and they didn’t seem like the type of people that came to Willow Bay. Not even the rich people from Portland looked like that. These were outsiders.

  “Maybe let’s try and subtly take a picture of them,” I told Sophie, when suddenly Charlotte grabbed my arm.

  “Hey, Angela, look!” she told me, pointing about a hundred feet to my right. “Isn’t that the Jason Black guy that you were telling us about?”

  I squinted for a better look. Sure enough, Jason Black was coming over this way. Suddenly, though, he saw me looking at him. He stopped, and looked around, then turned around and started going back the other way.

  No way. Absolutely not. I was so not going to let him get away from this. I wanted answers, and I was going to get them.

  “You guys stay here. Watch the weird guys. I’ll be back.”

  “Angie, wait!” I heard Sophie hiss behind me, but it was too late. I was already on the move. I could see Jason moving away from me, and he had a pretty big head start, but there was no way I was letting him get away.

  He was heading back up the road, but he also wasn’t looking behind him. I made my way around the few people still heading towards the church, gaining ground on him slowly but surely.

  Finally, after around 300 yards, I caught up to him. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he spun around faster than I was expecting, his fists clenched and his face angry, like he was about to punch me. As soon as he saw me though, his face softened. I couldn’t help but notice just how damn good he looked with sunglasses on and the sun shining on his face, but I forced that thought out of my head.

  “You!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “I was going to Tony Nyman’s funeral.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why? I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

  “Yeah, you do. You’re sneaking around, asking about the dead guy, and I’m curious as to why you care so much, seeing as you’re not from around here.”

  To my surprise, Jason burst out laughing.

  “Who made you the Willow Bay police chief?” he asked. “Maybe I knew the guy. Maybe I’m just from Portland up the road. I should be asking you the same questions. Why do you care so much?”

  “Because I was the one who found the body. At least I have an excuse.”

  “That doesn’t mean you should go around trying to find out who killed him.”

  What? How did he figure that out?

  “I’m so not doing that,” I replied, crossing my arms across my chest, hoping the lie sounded more convincing than it felt.

  “Of course you’re not,” he conceded sarcastically. “Fine. But trust me, some things are better left alone. Let Tony Nyman’s murder go unsolved by you. It’s better that way.”

  “Why, because that way you don’t have to spend a single day in jail?”

  This time, the expression on Jason’s face turned to shock.

  “Wait, you think I killed him? Yeah, that makes a l
ot of sense. Kill the guy, then wander around town asking about him instead of just getting out of dodge. Good work there Sherlock Holmes.”

  This guy was starting to annoy me. Why are the hot ones always so annoying?

  “Hey, I don’t know what you’re doing here. For all I know you are the killer. After all, I know you were at Nyman’s house yesterday afternoon.”

  It was a total bluff, but I hoped it would work.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  Damn. I studied Jason’s face, trying to see if he was genuinely surprised.

  “Someone broke into Tony Nyman’s house yesterday. I know it was you.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Nope. Wasn’t me.”

  Now the question was whether or not I believed him.

  We looked at each other, neither one of us blinking. This was quickly turning into a staredown.

  “Look,” he finally said. “You’re not going to tell me why you’re looking into Tony Nyman’s death. I’m not going to tell you what I’m doing here, because frankly, it’s none of your business. So why don’t we just agree to disagree, and each go our own way?”

  “Fine,” I snapped, not breaking eye contact with him. He did have a point. And if he wasn’t going to tell me anything good, I wanted to get back to the funeral, where I might actually find something useful.

  “See you around,” he called out to me as I walked away from him.

  “You won’t,” I called back, and I could practically feel his dumb grin boring into my back. His dumb, stupid, gorgeous grin.

  Chapter 12

  “That guy is so weird,” Sophie commented when we were finally back home, safe and sound in the living room with a couple glasses of wine (we swore we were only going to share one bottle tonight) and an old episode of Orange is the New Black on in the background while we chatted about the funeral. I was just going through telling Sophie and Charlotte about my encounter with Jason Black; I didn’t want to do it when we were still out in public.

  “There is something strange about him showing up just when the murder’s committed, and then hanging around and asking questions after, but he does have a point,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “If he had really killed Tony, then he could have just left. Literally no one would have even known he’d existed. It would have been like, the perfect crime.”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s doing this,” I offered, almost playing devil’s advocate more than believing my own words. “Maybe he thinks that by hanging around he’s taking suspicion off himself.”

  “Well the rest of his actions sure as hell aren’t helping him,” Sophie snorted, grabbing a handful of cheddar flavoured popcorn from the bag I’d left open on the table.

  “Anyway, long story short the whole thing was a giant bust. He didn’t admit to being the person who broke into Tony Nyman’s house, and he didn’t admit to killing him, either.”

  “I can’t believe you just straight up asked him,” Charlotte chided. “What if he had said yes? You guys were totally alone, he could have killed you too.”

  “Yeah, well, he didn’t,” I retorted, feeling a bit silly just saying it.

  “Gee, great answer,” Charlotte answered, rolling her eyes. “I know you guys think I’m a bit of a prude when it comes to these things- ”

  “We definitely do,” Sophie interrupted. “You worry too much. You can’t investigate things without asking the hard questions. Besides, he wouldn’t have killed Angie with so many people so close by at the funeral. Plus he would have seen us with Angela, and he would have known that we knew she went off to go see him. So he would have had to kill us, too, and that definitely wouldn’t have been subtle.”

  Charlotte’s face paled at the thought, but she had no comeback to that.

  “I guess,” she finally admitted.

  “So now if you’re done scolding us for going out there and doing something about the murderer that’s somewhere in our town, let’s figure this out. I think the three Men in Black that showed up at the funeral today are probably a good place to start.”

  “Yeah, what did you find out about them?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s not really about them, but we did find out that Sophie is really, really good at being a total slut when she wants to,” Charlotte mentioned, and I almost choked on a sip of wine.

  “Excuse me? I didn’t see you doing anything to try and help,” Sophie told Charlotte, throwing a piece of popcorn at her.

  “Ok hold up. Someone tell me what happened. Pretend I wasn’t there. Because, you know, I wasn’t,” I ordered, holding up my hands. Something told me this was a story I wanted to hear.

  “Fine,” Charlotte started. “We watched the weird dudes for a while. All they did was stand around and stare. They didn’t talk to anyone, and let’s be honest, most people around looked like they were actually kind of scared of them. So Sophie decides to go up and chat up the young guy.”

  “Oh my God, really?” I asked, laughing.

  “Oh, so when you go talking to a weird guy it’s all cool and good for our investigation, when I do it it’s funny?” Sophie asked, shooting me a look and sticking her tongue out at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized, trying to hide the smile threatening to crawl back onto my face. “Please, Charlotte, continue.”

  “And basically, well, Sophie got completely shut down by him. Like, he barely even looked at her.”

  This time, I couldn’t hold it in. I lost it and burst out laughing. Sophie was gorgeous. She knew it. She had no problem getting guys, and I could probably count on one hand the number of times she’d been turned down before. And two of those times it was because the guy batted for the other team.

  “Oh shut up,” Sophie told me, taking a big gulp of her wine. “It could have happened to anyone.”

  “It almost makes me wish I was there to see it,” Bee purred from her spot on the windowsill, where she hungrily watched the birds outside, tracking them with her eyes.

  “Agreed, Bee,” I told her.

  “What? What did your cat say?” Sophie asked, glaring at Bee, who hadn’t even bothered to turn around, so couldn’t see.

  “Bee said she wished she could have seen it.”

  “I said I almost wished I could have seen it. I had a very warm ray of sun over here.”

  “Fine, almost wished she could have seen it. Bee wants me to specify the almost in that sentence.”

  “Thanks for your support, cat,” Sophie muttered, as Charlotte snickered.

  “So basically, we’re nowhere once again,” Charlotte moaned.

  “That’s not entirely true,” I said with fake cheerfulness. “Now we have not one, but two different groups of suspects! The mystery dude who’s been hanging around a lot, and the mystery dudes who are new, that showed up at the funeral.”

  “Well, I did manage to take pictures of them while Sophie was getting totally brushed off by the young one, so if only we had access to like, the FBI’s facial recognition software or something, that might actually be handy.”

  “Ugh, why does this have to be so hard?” I asked, rubbing my face. It wasn’t like I expected the murderer to just fall into our lap. But this was getting to be pretty frustrating.

  “I feel you. Plus, Patricia Wilson told me that she heard that a few people are thinking about leaving town after this. Hell, apparently the Klaussens are moving to Canada!”

  I barked out laughing at that.

  “Really? Because of one murder that they haven’t even given the police time to solve? Wow. People are crazy here.”

  “They really are. But I guess for a family like that, who’s lived here forever, something like that is completely new to them. I mean, we’ve all lived in Portland for at least a couple years, but none of the Klaussens have.”

  “That’s true.” If they left, though, I could chalk up one less client for the vet business. And it sounded like they weren’t the only ones considering it. We had to find who had committed this murder, and f
ast. I had a very limited client pool.

  “So what do we do now?” Charlotte asked.

  “Send me those pictures you took. I’ll go down and see Chief Gary tomorrow and see if he knows who they are. It’s unlikely, but maybe he can at least find out for us?”

  “Yeah, but if he does he’s probably not going to tell us.”

  “He might if we ask him really nicely,” I pointed out.

  “I guess it’s worth a shot,” Charlotte said, taking out her phone and texting me the photos she took.

  “Thanks,” I told her. “If there’s one thing TV has taught me, it’s that one pretty bad lead can end up breaking the whole case wide open.”

  “I hope you’re right,” my sister replied as she reached over to grab more popcorn.

  Chapter 13

  Monday was my other day off at the vet clinic – except for emergencies which went straight to my cell – and so I took the opportunity to go visit Chief Gary while Charlotte was at school and Sophie went to do some grocery shopping. We wisely decided that I should be the one to go see Chief Gary, since he had always had that soft spot for Charlotte and I.

  “Hey Chief!” I greeted him when I walked into his office, handing him a cup of coffee that I’d picked up at Betty’s on the way over, remembering what she’d said about him being a bit stressed over the case. And as soon as I saw him, I knew she was right.

  Chief Gary looked like he’d aged about ten years since the last time I’d seen him. His normally brown hair now had streaks of grey around the edges, he had big bags under his eyes, and it looked like it physically pained him to look up from his desk. But, when he saw me coming into the office, he perked up, and even more so when I put the coffee down in front of him.

  “Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” I said in way of greeting, and he gratefully took a long sip of the warm beverage.