Phantom in the Pond

by Dorothy Bodoin

  Misty came to an abrupt halt at the pond’s edge and peered down into the water. I looked down with her, expecting to see our reflections mirrored in its depths.

  There was a reflection, but it wasn’t Misty’s. Another collie met my gaze. This dog had a mahogany sable coat. One ear was tipped, one pricked. It couldn’t look less like my white, tricolor headed Misty.

  An impossible reflection. I should see Misty and myself and the other collies.

  I did; I saw all four of us. Now. But a moment ago, in our place I had seen the stranger dog.

  I knelt on the damp grass that grew at the pond’s side and ran my fingers through the water. It felt slimy, not at all like the pure cool water I’d envisioned. Disintegrating leaves, broken bits of wood, and the incongruous candy wrapper I longed to remove lay on its surface. If only that wrapper hadn’t been lodged in the pond’s center.

  There was no dog’s image.

  Once again, what did I expect?

  Imitating my action, Misty dipped one white paw into the water and hastily drew it out. She sniffed at the stones and gave a puzzled whine.

  Where’s the other dog?

  I pulled her close to my side. The house might not be haunted, but the pond was.

  I didn’t doubt what I had seen. True, I had a lively imagination that often ran away with my common sense, but I knew I hadn’t conjured a collie’s reflection out of stagnant water and nature’s debris. Foxglove Corners was known—at least to me—for its psychic activity. In the surface of the abandoned fishpond, I had seen a fleeting, unnatural reflection.

  Why not call it by its proper name? Phantom.

  ~ * ~

  I couldn’t wait to tell someone about the collie in the pond, but Crane was still patrolling the roads and byroads of Foxglove Corners, and Brent, who had to be informed about the phenomenon, didn’t answer his phone. I left him a cryptic message, wanting to wait to give him the news about his house in person.

  That done, I drove to Clovers. If Annica hadn’t had to work today, she’d have been with me. As it was, she’d have to hear about my experience after the fact.

  I opened the door to the faint tingling of green clover chimes and beheld a happy sight: Annica filling the dessert carousel with cherry tarts. “‘Made with fresh Michigan cherries,” proclaimed a hand-lettered sign on one of the tiers. Her pink dress and garnet earrings complemented the color of the fruit.

  “Back so soon?” she asked.

  “I went early,” I said. “Wait till I tell you what I saw.”

  Her eyes lit up. “I know. A ghost.”

  “Not exactly. Close.”

  “Grab a booth,” she said. “I’ll be right back and we’ll sample the tarts. They’re still warm.”

  Clovers’ owner, Mary Jeanne, insisted that her waitresses know what each item on the menu tasted like so they could describe it to their customers. Lucky ladies.

  It was too early for the lunch crowd, and all of Annica’s tables appeared to be served. She brought two pots of tea and two tarts to my favorite booth that had the best view of the woods across from the restaurant.

  “What did I miss?” she asked.

  “There’s a fishpond on Brent’s property. I saw a reflection that couldn’t be in its surface.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I told her about Misty looking down into the pond and a strange collie looking back at her. “It only lasted a second,” I said.

  She grinned. “Isn’t it funny that most of your ghosts are collies?”

  “There was the ghost in the library and the Spirit Lamp Inn,” I said. “The ice skater—”

  “And dogs, dogs, dogs. I said most, not all. Do you suppose the collie drowned in the pond?”

  The idea hadn’t occurred to me. Collies in my experience fell into two categories: Those who avoided the water like Sky, and dogs who loved to swim.

  “The pond isn’t that deep,” I said, imagining Misty leaping in and out of it.

  “How do you explain the reflection then?”

  “I don’t know enough about the house yet to form an opinion,” I said.

  “Speaking of which, what’s it like?”

  “Run down and badly in need of painting, but it’ll be lovely when Brent renovates it. He’s already looking for old time pictures of children and dogs. There’s one oddity, though. One of the bedrooms has furniture left in it.”

  “He can keep it for the caretaker.”

  “Yes, after a thorough cleaning.” That would be one item Brent could cross off his list.

  “We only have a couple of weeks before the place is overrun with contractors.”

  Noise, country music on a radio with the volume turned high. The smell of paint. I shuddered at the thought of the upheaval. Any one of those could send a respectable ghost fleeing.

  “Let’s make the most of them then,” she said. “I want to see that marvelous fishpond that doesn’t reflect reality.”

  I wanted to see it again, too. Even more, I wanted to know its secret.

  Five

  The clover chimes jingled and in walked Brent clad in denim and a forest green shirt, bringing the vitality of the outdoors with him. He spied us and strode toward our booth, booming out a hearty hello. A few diners turned to stare at him.

  Instantly Annica brightened. Her cherry tart forgotten, she switched with ease to waitress mode.

  “What can I get for you?” she asked.

  “Black coffee, a ham sandwich, and whatever you’re having.” He glanced at her half empty plate. “That looks kind of small.”

  “We have a whole cherry pie in the kitchen.”

  “Good. I’ll have a piece. Make it a large one.”

  As she hastened to fill his order, he said, “I couldn’t make head or tails out of your message, Jennet.”

  That, of course, was my intent. My aim was to build suspense and give him my news in person.

  “I walked over to your house this morning,” I said. “Guess what? It is haunted.”

  “By what?”

  I described the face of the collie in the pond. “It came and went in a heartbeat, but I know what I saw.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t see a man-made image? Like a deflated balloon floating on top of the water?”

  To be fair, I gave this momentary consideration. But the collie in the pond had been a genuine reflection, not a spent balloon.

  “Then where did it go?” I asked.

  “Easy. To the bottom of the pond.”

  “What sank it?”

  Annica came back bringing the coffeepot and Brent’s special mug with his name engraved on its side.

  “When I look in a pond or lake, all I expect to see is water,” Brent said. “If I want to see my reflection, I look in a mirror.”

  “Your pond has unusual properties. Why won’t you just believe I saw a ghost?”

  He grinned. “I like to play… What’s that game? Devil’s helper?

  “Devil’s advocate,” Annica said. She poured Brent’s coffee and he took a mighty gulp.

  “Is anyone making my sandwich?” Brent asked.

  “Yes. Mary Jeanne herself.” She sat and resumed eating her tart.

  “What did you see, Annica?”

  “Nothing. I couldn’t go with Jennet.”

  “Then you and I will check it out together. Tomorrow?”

  “After my Chaucer class,” she said.

  I intended to return to the pond as well. Brent’s reluctance to embrace my evidence caused me to second guess it. Could my mind have created a collie’s face out of brown leaves and twigs? I didn’t think so. In the meantime, would the ghostly image appear in the isolated garden even if no one was there?

  “I’m going to fix those pickets,” Brent added. “I can’t have kids tramping through the yard. They’ll have to stay away when the dogs come. Someone might get hurt, and I’d be liable.”

  “I didn’t see any kids in the neighborhood,” I said.

  No curious c
hildren. No hungry animals. No birds. Nothing.

  Only the phantom in the pond.

  ~ * ~

  Later that day with meatloaf dinners from Clovers ready to serve, I took Halley, Gemmy, and Star to visit Sue and her collies at the horse ranch.

  Star, the oldest of my pack, seemed to have more stamina these days. With better food, the companionship of her collie sisters, and, most important of all, the knowledge that she was loved and wanted, she’d blossomed into a confident and happy dog.

  Moving with the wind, we crunched down the gravel on the lane, all of us invigorated by the fresh smell in the air. We passed the unfinished development with its deteriorating structures steeped in silence and shadow. And onto Squill Lane and the ranch.

  Sue and her collies were outside enjoying the sunshine. The dogs played with branches and their Frisbees while Sue tried to take their pictures. Meanwhile, her horses grazed, ignoring the canine antics. The free-running collies converged on my trio and renewed their acquaintance while we settled ourselves on the porch in a patch of sunshine.

  “Our website needs updating,” Sue said. “We have three new collies. One’s a senior.”

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  “Emma and Ronda are fostering them. Two are litter sisters. We’re hoping to place them in the same home.” Without a proper segue, she added, “Helena Millay is getting pretty worried these days.”

  “Helena from Lucy’s party?”

  “The same. She was expecting her new collie, Arden, from Wisconsin, but the dog didn’t arrive when they said she would.”

  “That’s a long way to come,” I said.

  “Arden should have been in Foxglove Corners on Tuesday morning. This is Thursday, and Helena hasn’t even had a message.”

  “What’s the holdup?” I asked.

  “Helena doesn’t know. That’s the trouble. She can’t contact the transport people.”

  I could see why she was growing anxious. Anything could have happened between Wisconsin and Michigan. But why wouldn’t the transport company keep her informed?

  “Didn’t she find the company online?”

  “Yes, but now the web page has been taken down,” Sue said.

  “She must have their information. Can’t she call them?”

  “She tried. The number isn’t in service.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did she pay them?” I asked.

  “She sent them a check for four hundred dollars, but that isn’t the point. Where’s Arden?”

  “Do you remember the name of the company?”

  “It’s Sea-to-Sea. Helena said they have several glowing reviews. Had, I should say. The website is gone.”

  “Let’s backtrack,” I said. “I assume Helena called Arden’s kennel?”

  “She did. The owner verified that Sea-to-Sea picked up the dog. The men were friendly. Arden went with them happily enough, and they drove away.”

  Sue let her voice trail off.

  I added, “Into the vast unknown.”

  “Very poetic, Jennet. They took Helena’s money, then Arden disappeared in transit. The company looked so reliable on paper. I should say, on the screen.”

  I shuddered at the possible scenarios that formed in my mind. Helena was the victim of a scam, one that preyed on a person’s desire for a dog and on a helpless collie.

  “What is Helena going to do?” I asked.

  “Right now, she isn’t sure. She’s waiting, still hoping there’s some explanation.”

  Misty shoved her nose into my lap. I stroked her head, thinking. Crane and I had a stable home. I couldn’t imagine a circumstance in which we’d have to move one of our dogs to another place. I’d heard horror stories about dogs traveling by plane but never one in which a transporter failed to deliver a dog to its destination. The only way to ensure a pet’s safety is to enlist the aid of a trusted friend.

  I could imagine one of those glowing Internet reviews:

  John and Jane will provide your dog with all the comforts of home. A heated van, fresh bedding, the dog’s own dish and food, along with his favorite toys. We’ll treat him as if he were our own pet.

  Honeyed words to beguile the unsuspecting, to convince them that their best friend would be safe in their care. The owner would never see the dog again.

  “How can I get in touch with Helena?” I asked.

  “I have her number. Why?”

  “Someone has to help her. Arden is a collie in distress. We’re the Collie Rescue League.”

  “Maybe there’s just been a delay,” Sue said. “Something the transport people couldn’t help. Like an accident or car trouble.”

  “Then why wouldn’t they find a way to notify Helena?”

  “You’re right.”

  I knew I shouldn’t rush my judgment, but every instinct told me that Sea-to-Sea was a scam. That without our intervention, Helena would lose Arden before she ever saw her. Arden might suffer an unspeakable fate.

  “What can we do?” Sue asked.

  “First, find out everything there is to know about Sea-to-Sea.”

  “And if they’re not a legitimate service?”

  “Then we hold them accountable,” I said. “And hope it isn’t too late for Arden.”

  Six

  On Friday Sue and I visited Helena in Lakeville. She lived on a quiet, shaded street that dead ended in a rustic park. Her small blue-sided house and fenced yard would be ideal for a retired show dog.

  “All her home needs is a collie,” Sue said.

  “Agreed. We have to find the collie.”

  Helena opened the door, and an aroma of coffee drifted out into the humid air. She was waiting for us, her peaches-and-cream complexion pale and drawn, her auburn hair held back with a black band.

  “It’s good of you to concern yourselves with my Arden,” she said. “I don’t know where to turn.”

  “We’ll try to help,” I assured her.

  We will help.

  A graceful arch divided the tiny hall from a large living room. It was practically two rooms in one but minimally furnished with a sofa, two chairs, all three in dark green velvet, and a pair of matching end tables. And an empty crate lined with colorful throws. Its door was open.

  Helena took a silver framed picture of a stunning tricolor collie from an end table. Posed against high drifts of snow, Arden was magnificent, black and tan and white, with a heavy coat and sweet expression.

  “This is Arden,” she said. “The breeder sent it to me. She said Arden was a loving collie, very intelligent, and so far as she knew, in good health.”

  “Why did she give her up?” Sue asked.

  “The usual reason. To make room for the younger ones. But she wanted the right home for Arden. I assured her I could provide that.”

  I set the picture back on the table. “I have two tricolors, Halley and Candy.”

  If I’d lost them… Well, I didn’t want to think about that. I had lost Halley once, and indirectly that was how Candy had come into my life, brought to me by a young man who wanted the reward for finding Halley.

  “Jennet and I have taken on tough situations before,” Sue said. “We’ve always won. We will this time.”

  “I hope so.”

  We accepted the coffee she offered and sat quietly for a moment. When the silence grew noticeable, Helena said, “I never dreamed something like this would happen. I read all the company’s reviews. It seemed like the perfect solution.”

  Sue nodded. “Too good to be true.”

  “I should know by now not to believe everything I read online. I’m beginning to think Sea-to-Sea doesn’t exist.”

  “Oh, it exists all right,” I said. “As a scam.”

  “I’ve spent hours on the computer trying to find them.”

  That was what I’d planned to do. I’d still do it, hoping to discover a small detail Helena might have missed. Then I’d think of another approach. More than one. No doubt Sea-to-Sea prided
itself on being elusive, but they must have left their footprints somewhere.

  “Arden is still young, and she’s a beauty,” Helena said. “She hasn’t been spayed. I’m afraid she’ll end up in a puppy mill having litter after litter.”

  That was a possibility, along with plenty of ghastly alternatives.

  “We’ll have to work fast,” I said. “She’s been missing… What? Three days now?”

  “Since Tuesday.”

  Time enough for her to have been transported to the West Coast or the Gulf Coast. Or anywhere.

  “What can we do?” Helena asked.

  I wished I had an easy answer. “Let’s brainstorm. What can you tell me about Sea-to- Sea?”

  “Just what I remember from the website. They were two young men, former vet techs who became friends and went into business together. Their names were Roger and Jack, probably aliases. They promised to make transporting a dog to a new home a happy experience for both pet and owner.”

  “Did they say where Sea-to-Sea was based?”

  She frowned. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “How did you pay them?”

  “They wanted a check made out to Cash. I gave them one. The man, Roger, gave me a receipt. His signature is practically illegible.”

  Darn. That would have tipped me off. If only the charge were on Helena’s credit card.

  “I feel like such a fool,” she said. “I was just so anxious to have Arden and I didn’t want to have her shipped.”

  Helena had made a mistake. She was too trusting, but she wasn’t the only one to be taken in by clever scammers.

  Sue touched her arm lightly. “If we have anything to say about it, you’ll have Arden. Give us some time to come up with…er…something.”

  I glanced at Sue, hoping to communicate that time was a commodity we couldn’t afford.

  “We’ll try our best,” I said.

  ~ * ~

  After an intensive Google search, I found several land transport services. One of them, the Flying Carpet, was located in Lansing, the state’s capitol. It had a modest number of five star reviews, and the site included a form a prospective customer could fill out to estimate the cost. I submitted a request for the price of driving a dog from Wisconsin to Michigan and was instructed to wait for an e-mail.