“I wouldn’t say he’s gone missing. Archer couldn’t find him for like-what?-an hour. If he doesn’t turn up by tomorrow, then I say we have something to be suspicious about.”
“Well, I think it’s weird,” Bobby muttered.
“Excuse me, sir,” a woman’s voice said from behind Bobby.
She turned to see one of the officers standing behind her. She was a stocky woman, with short, almost shaved, black hair and dark black eyes. Bobby had met her previously. Her name was Ronda and she, like Don, was a shifter.
“What is it, Ronda?” Don asked.
“We’re going through the statements that we received today. What should we do with the ones that seem the most promising?”
“Bring them to me, of course,” Don said pointedly.
"That's what I figured," the woman said, handing over a small stack of papers. "We're not done yet. There are hundreds of them."
“Well, if I’m not in when you’re finished, set the rest on my desk. I’ll be sure to get to them when I can.”
“Yes, sir,” the woman said, smiling as she turned to walk away.
“There are at least a dozen here,” Don said, flipping through the sheets.
“What do they say?”
He looked at her as if she were stupid. “Speed reading isn’t in my skill set, Bobby,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and held out her hand. “Give me half,” she said. “At least we can kill some time with these while we wait for The Cave to open.”
He divided the stack and handed her her portion. They read through each statement carefully, sharing whatever valuable information they came across with each other.
“This person says that they saw Holly returning home one night at around 5am,” Bobby said.
“I have one here that says something similar. Did they give a date?”
“Yeah, about two weeks ago.”
“This one says about a month ago.”
“Well, that confirms that she was keeping odd hours for quite a while now, then,” Bobby said.
“This man says that he went to her shop one day, about a month ago, to find her and Laura in a screaming match,” Don said, staring down at the paper in his hand.
“Was it Mrs. O’Leary?” Bobby guessed.
“No, actually.”
“Does it say what they were fighting about?”
“Something about a potion,” Don said looking up at her. “That’s all they heard, apparently. When they saw him, they stopped talking right away. Laura went to the back and Holly helped him pick out a gift for his daughter.”
“Ms. Enchanting’s name seems to be coming up a lot,” Bobby noted.
They continued to read through the statement. It appeared that Holly was in a fighting mood during the months leading up to her death. It wasn’t just Laura that people heard her arguing with. It was her husband as well.
“Well, we’ll add that to the list of things to talk to Barry about,” Don said as he shuffled through the papers.
“It would certainly be helpful if we could find him,” Bobby said under her breath.
“Would it make you feel better if I had a few men go out and search for him?” Don asked.
“It would,” Bobby replied with a nod and a smile.
Don was just reaching for the phone when he stopped, suddenly, and gazed out the window directly behind her.
“Actually,” he said, setting the phone back on the dock and standing up, “we won’t need to do that. It looks like Mr. Clawson has found his way to us all on his own.”
Bobby turned to look in the direction that Don was staring. Pacing back and forth nervously outside of the police station was Barry. His hair was a mess and his clothes disheveled. He looked to be talking to himself. His lips were moving slowly as he wrung his hands frantically.
“We should go get him, right?” Bobby asked, standing up.
“Be my guest,” Don said motioning for her to go ahead.
“You’re not coming with me?”
“He’s clearly distraught,” Don replied. “The perfect opportunity for the ‘good cop’ to swoop in and offer him comfort.”
“Whatever,” Bobby said as she marched forward.
She stopped at the door, straightening out her jacket and collecting her thoughts before stepping outside. She was still suspicious of Barry, even if Don wasn’t. Despite the evidence pointing towards Laura Enchanting, she still felt like Holly’s husband was hiding something.
“Barry,” she said softly as she walked up to him.
Even though he was staring blankly in her direction, she could tell that he hadn’t seen her coming. He jumped slightly when she said his name. His eyes quickly focused on her. They were bloodshot and drawn.
“Barry,” she said rushing over to him. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He began to speak, but his words came out as nothing more than quick, indecipherable slurs.
“You need to take a breath,” Bobby said, taking hold of his hand and leading him back towards the station. “Come inside. You can sit down, collect yourself, and then tell me whatever it is you need to.”
When she had seen him the previous day, he was clearly distraught. Now, though, he looked as if he were completely falling apart. His clothes were stained and his breath smelled horrible. His hair had a slight sheen from the grease that had collected in it, and he wasn't wearing matching socks—or shoes.
“It’s too hard,” he muttered to himself. “I can’t do this.”
“What can’t you do, Barry?”
“I can’t live without her,” he said, bursting into tears. “I just miss her so much. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything.”
Bobby led him through the door. Everyone in the room turned to stare as she directed him towards Don’s desk. A few people leaned over and began whispering—probably about the smell more than anything.
Don even scooted his chair back quickly when Barry slumped down across from him. “Barry, what’s happened to you?
Barry stared at Don, a pathetic look of helplessness on his face. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “But I think whoever killed my wife came back to the shop last night.”
“What?” Bobby and Don asked simultaneously.
Barry took a long, deep, shaky breath. “Last night, someone broke into the shop.” He leaned forward quickly, his eyes crazed and his hands shaking. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper as he continued. “I heard someone downstairs. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran. I just ran.”
“You heard someone break into the pet shop?” Bobby asked, resting her hand on his shoulder, even though the last thing she wanted to do was touch him. The stink coming off of him was starting to sting her eyes. She leaned over to comfort him, getting a full, good whiff that nearly sent her running to the bathroom.
“I didn’t actually hear them break in,” Barry said, turning to look at her.
His breath wafted out of his mouth, and floated right towards her as if it were a cloud of stench stretching out to consume her. She pulled back slightly, trying not to let her face twist into the expression of disgust that it so badly wanted to.
"But you did hear someone down there?" Don asked, a hint amusement in his voice. Clearly, he had noticed her reaction to Barry's stench. Hopefully, Barry didn't.
If he did, he didn’t show it. He continued to stare at Bobby as he answered. “I know someone was down there,” he said in a whisper.
“Did they take anything?” Bobby asked, suddenly remembering that she should be writing all of this information down and taking advantage of that fact to pull herself away from him.
She leaned over to her right grabbing for her purse and gasping in what little air she could without making it too obvious.
“I don’t know,” Barry said. “Like I said, I ran. I left as quickly as I could. I haven’t been back since.”
“Where did you go?” Bobby asked, sitting up straight and flipping open her notebook in her lap.
“We’re going to need access to the shop,” Don said.
“Of course,” Barry replied. “Anything to help. I’m scared. What if they come back for me?” he said, nearly breaking into tears.
“Why don’t you take us back to your place now,” Bobby offered. “We can look around, see what we find, while you take a shower.”
Chapter 19: Returning to the Scene of the Crime
The pet shop looked exactly like it had the first time Bobby and Don had visited, just the day before. Barry left them to investigate while he returned home, after a few not-so-subtle reminders from Bobby that he should use that chance to take a shower and freshen up.
They walked around in silence for a while, studying every little thing in as much detail as they could. The room was dark and stuffy. There was a small layer of dust that had begun to cover almost everything and a sour stench in the air that was only slightly less offensive than the one Barry was giving off earlier. It was clear that the cages hadn't been cleaned out in a while. The animals still seemed to be quite upset as well, and Bobby wondered if anyone had even taken the time to feed them since Holly's death.
She peered into the cages, examining each one carefully. She was amazed at the variety of animals that Holly had. There was everything from your typical household pets-dogs, cats, gerbils, rabbits- to some more exotic options like bats, scorpions, monkeys, and of course, Holly’s new breed of dog-cat. There were fish tanks filled with multicolored creatures, not all of them fish, and wire cages filled with the largest selection of insects she had ever seen.
Each time she leaned into peer at whatever animal was in front of her, the creature scurried, swam, or flew over to the glass and stared at her. As the rest of the animals in the room continued to cry, scream, yelp, or howl, whatever animal she was looking at would become immediately silent as they watched her with huge, desperate eyes.
“Can animals have a desperate look?” she asked Don once she had investigated every cage.
“Have you heard of ‘puppy dog eyes’?” Don replied.
“Well, okay, yeah, so dogs and cats and such can beg and get that look of ‘please give me food’ but fish?”
“You’re saying a fish looked at you as if it were asking you for food?”
“Food or something like it,” she replied.
“I think this investigation is making you go as crazy as the man upstairs,” Don said.
“Do you think he’s crazy?” Bobby asked, walking over to the cash register where her partner was shuffling through files and receipts.
“Not crazy,” Don said, “he’s hurting, that’s for sure.”
“He’s definitely not taking this whole thing very well,” Bobby agreed.
“Still think he’s hiding something?” Don asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Seriously? The man comes stumbling into our station, smelling like he hasn’t showered in weeks, sleep deprived, and clearly distraught, and you still think he’s somehow connected to his wife’s death?”
“It hasn’t been weeks,” she said bluntly.
“What?”
“It’s only been a few days since Holly died. How did he wind up smelling that bad in such a short span of time? Even I’ve gone a few days in a row without showering, and believe me, I’ve never looked or smelled like that.”
“We’ll come back to that little piece of information about you later,” Don said, sounding amused, “but you have to remember that the poor man has been through a trauma. Not to mention that he spent all of last night out running through the woods.”
“I guess that’s true.”
She considered making some smart remark about shifters and how they all smelled like wet dog, but she bit her tongue.
“It doesn’t look like anything was taken from the register,” Don said.
“The animals are all here—at least, I think they are. There aren’t any empty cages,” Bobby added.
“And yet, Barry is convinced that someone broke in here last night for some reason.”
“Maybe he’s just paranoid,” Bobby said.
“You think he imagined the whole thing?”
“If he’s sleep deprived and going through a trauma,” Bobby said, “don’t you think ‘hearing things’ would certainly be a consequence?”
“I know someone was in here,” Barry’s voice came from behind a shelf of pet food and dog toys.
“Barry,” Bobby said turning around quickly and plastering a smile on her face.
How long had he been standing there? Did he hear the part about her suspecting him? She needed to learn to keep her thoughts to herself.
Barry walked towards them. He looked fresh and clean, his wet hair brushed back and his socks and shoes matching.
“It doesn’t look like anything is missing,” Bobby said quickly, defending her disbelief that someone actually had broken into the shop.
“We didn’t find a point of entry either,” Don added.
It was true. One of the first things they did was check the doors and windows, and none had been tampered with.
“Maybe someone used magic,” Barry said quickly. “Maybe they used magic to break in. That’s possible, right?”
“Is it?” Don asked, looking at Bobby.
She looked at her partner, surprised. “How did you ever become Sheriff?” she asked. “Yes, of course, it’s possible. Witches and warlocks can get past almost any locked door if they wanted to bad enough.”
"See?" Barry said, desperation in his voice. "See? A witch or something could have broken in here!"
“To do what?” Don asked matter-of-factly. “To play with the puppies and then leave? Nothing’s missing, Barry.”
“Not from here,” Barry replied, turning to walk back in the direction he came from. “But there’s still one room to check.”
Bobby and Don exchanged looks before rushing to follow him. Bobby expected him to turn right, heading towards the hidden stairs that lead up to his apartment. But, instead, he turned left.
They followed behind as Barry led them to the far back left corner of the shop, to what appeared to be nothing more than a dusty shelf containing fish bowls and rusty hamster cages.
Barry hesitated when he reached the shelf, running his hands over the various items. When his fingers brushed against one of the bowls, he lifted it slowly then set it back down.
Bobby was beginning to truly believe that the man was crazy with grief when the panel in front of them slid forward slightly, revealing an opening leading into a secret room. Not waiting for Barry to make the first move to push the door open the rest of the way, she stepped forward and made her way into the small, cramped space.
“It’s a lab,” she said under her breath as she took in her surroundings.
Don followed her in and froze behind her. “Whoa,” he said quietly.
In the center of the room was a tall wooden table. Around the walls were counters, also tall, also wooden. There were more plants in that little room than Bobby had in her entire house, and the shelves lining the far wall above the countertops were stacked full of small, glass bottles all containing various powders, objects, twigs or sticks.
It was a crowded place, but looking around Bobby was quickly able to identify the order behind the madness.
“This is where she worked,” Barry explained walking up and standing in the doorway behind them.
“I see that,” Bobby said stepping further into the room and walking around the table in the middle of the room, scanning the shelves as she went.
“It doesn’t look like anything was taken from here,” Don noted, scanning the space quickly.
Bobby leaned into peer at the labels of the bottles that had them—not all of them did. On the surface, they seemed to be traditional potion ingredients-wolf's fang, bear's claw, pig's tongue, poison ivy root-the usual. The labeled bottles weren't what drew her attention, however.
What made her stomach start to turn and her eyes to go wide were the unlabeled ones.
“What kind of things did she make back here?” Bobby asked, picking up a tube containing what appeared to be a human finger.
“I’m not sure,” Barry said. “Things for the shop, I assume.”
Bobby continued to scan the shelf. The unlabeled bottles all contained things that had been outlawed by the Witch Council years before—some for the cruelty that went into acquiring them, others because of the potency that they contained. There was a very fine layer of dust covering everything in the laboratory. That’s how Bobby was able to tell that some of the items were missing. There were small circles marking the place where the bottles used to be.
In one specific section, more than one bottle had been removed. She eyed the other items on the shelf. Judging by the things around them, whatever was kept in that area was strong, illegal, and possibly dangerous.
“Someone definitely removed things from this room,” Bobby said turning to face Don.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. It’s not just the empty spaces among the items that gives it away.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a sort of organization system to everything,” Bobby said spinning around and eyeing the shelves again. “Here, for example,” she said walking to the shelf closest to Don. “I’m assuming these items were used, like Barry said, to make things for the shop-dog food or something like that. Here,” she said moving down slightly, “looks like the ingredients for behavioral modification potions—again, probably for the animals.”
She moved around the table in the center of the room, guessing the purpose of each of the collections of ingredients until she got to the shelf on the wall furthest away from Don and Barry. "And here," she said looking at the men over her shoulder, "these ingredients I've never seen together before. And, one item is missing. I'm not sure what she was making, but I highly doubt it had to do with the pet shop."
“So, someone did break in last night?” Barry asked, wringing his hands out in front of him.
“Barry, would you mind leaving me alone with my partner for a moment?” Bobby asked, smiling kindly at the man.
Bobby Sparks Witch Detective: Pet Shop Puzzle ( A Paranormal Cozy Mystery) Page 12