The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  I paused at the front fender. A large indention deformed the metal there. How had that happened? It was probably nothing, but Mrs. Jericho didn’t seem like the type who’d drive around with a less-than-perfect vehicle.

  My sister followed my gaze. “Yep, that’s Mrs. Jericho’s car. I’d recognize it anywhere. You’ll never believe this. I saw her having her car detailed at Max’s Wax a couple of days ago. It’s located right beside my vet office, and I couldn’t help but notice the lime-green paint. It’s hard to miss.”

  “What’s so strange about that?” I questioned.

  “Mrs. Jericho is a first-class kind of lady. The vet’s office where I work is in a not-so-nice part of town. It doesn’t make sense that she would drive all the way out there when there are at least two places right here in town that she could have used.”

  I stored that information away. It was interesting. Had she just happened to be in that part of town? Or was there another reason? My sister was right—Mrs. Jericho didn’t seem like the type who’d “stoop as low” as to use a second-rate business to attend to matters.

  It could be nothing.

  Or it could be everything.

  We climbed into the car, my thoughts still turning. If it was Winnie who’d been found behind my parents’ property, how had she ended up there? Had the Lennoxes become angry with her? Had she walked in and discovered some kind of illegal activity going on at their place?

  What if the Lennoxes weren’t connected at all? Maybe Winnie had stumbled across a psycho on one of her morning walks. Maybe she’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  As we started down the road, my mom announced that we had to pick up some flowers at the florist and pick up some boxes at her office for the ceremony tonight.

  That’s when I had an idea.

  “Why don’t you let me do your errands for you?” I offered.

  My mom turned to glance at me. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. That will give you some time to go home and get ready for tonight. I know you have a lot to do.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Sierra.” My mom sounded surprised.

  I was about to defend myself when guilt pressed on me. My intentions weren’t totally pure. This was no time to confess, though.

  I’d drop my mom and sister off, pick up Chad, and then veer off from my errands for long enough to go by Winnie’s apartment. If nothing else, my curiosity would be satisfied.

  As we continued down the road, something splattered against the windshield. My gaze snapped toward the sound.

  Rain. It was starting to rain.

  For my mom, this was the equivalent of a tornado crashing through town.

  Rain would ruin the whole ceremony, which was planned to be entirely outdoors.

  “It’s going to pass,” my sister muttered, her hands gripping the wheel. The corner of her lips pulled down in a slight frown, though.

  My mom said nothing, which in some ways was worse than one of her rants.

  This was important to my mom, I realized. I knew people had been saying that repeatedly since I’d been here in Connecticut, but looking at my mom now just drove it all home with me. I just couldn’t figure out why.

  The rest of the drive was silent.

  “Your dad took me duck hunting,” Chad announced, his hands tight on the steering wheel of the Vanagon as we bounced down the road.

  My mouth dropped open and I clutched the armrest. Just moments earlier, I’d been thinking he smelled like sandalwood and coconut oil. Now I wondered if that was to cover the scent of gunpowder. “What? My dad doesn’t hunt.”

  “He does now. I knew you wouldn’t approve of me going, but what choice did I have?” His hair was standing on end, like he’d continually been running his hands through it.

  “You didn’t shoot any of those poor innocent creatures, did you?”

  “No, I had the opportunity, but I wouldn’t do that. I missed on purpose. I wasn’t supposed to be hunting at all, because I didn’t have a permit, but your dad put the gun in my hands and insisted I give it a . . . shot.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “That’s horrible.”

  “Your dad has horrible aim. I guess that’s a good thing.”

  I crossed my arms now, unsettled with the images in my head. “I guess.”

  Chad’s expression cleared. “So, now that that’s out in the open, where are we going?”

  I glanced down at my lap and searched through a couple of different papers to find Winnie’s address. I’d had to search through my parents’ files to find the floral information—Sharo seemed to have misplaced her copy.

  I’d gone through some old bills from my father’s practice, Sharo’s bill—she was pricey—and the catering invoice, and finally I’d found the florist. However, the paper I stared at now was one where I’d scribbled an address. “We’re headed toward 416 Hawthorne Avenue.”

  “The florist, right?”

  I shook my head, bracing myself for his reaction. “I have one stop to make first.”

  “So, what’s at 416 Hawthorne Avenue?”

  “It’s the address of the dog walker, Winnie Dubois.”

  “You figured out her name?”

  I shrugged. “I have my ways.”

  “Are you sure you want to keep pursuing this, Sierra?”

  That was a great question. I sighed and glanced out the window. “I guess I feel like Big Boy came to me for help.”

  “The dog?”

  I nodded. He sounded like he’d never been around me before. “Yes, the dog. I realize that sounds weird. But whether I like it or not, I’m involved.”

  “You could become uninvolved at any time.” He cast me a knowing glance.

  “I’ll just do this and then I’m done,” I promised. My throat ached as I said the words.

  “What if Big Boy comes back?”

  My throat went dry. I didn’t want to lie, and the question was legitimate. Chad knew me all too well. “I don’t know.”

  Chad reached over and squeezed my hand. “I think your tenacity is admirable.”

  Relief washed through me. Why did I always think everyone would react like my parents would? “Really?”

  “Of course I do. You’re passionate and dedicated, and you fight for what you believe in. What’s there not to admire about that?”

  “Marrying you was the best thing I ever did.” I leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

  “You’re going to make me blush.”

  “You’ve been a real trooper being here, Chad. Thank you.” I sincerely meant those words.

  “Only for you.”

  As I let those words wrap around my heart for a moment, I pointed to an approaching street. “Turn here.”

  Chad did.

  A few minutes later we pulled to a stop in front of a little Cape Cod–style house. There was a beat-up-looking sedan parked out front. The mailbox at the street gaped open, an overflowing stack of letters and flyers inside.

  The feeling of grief intensified in my gut.

  Could I be wrong again? It was entirely possible. I’d been convinced that the body had been Mrs. Lennox’s initially. I was playing detective here, and Chad was right: I really had no good reason to be this involved. It would be just as easy for me to walk away and leave this to the police. But, for some reason, I was hanging on.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Chad asked as he put his van in park.

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Without any more hesitation, I climbed from the car and tepidly walked up the front steps. Before I could second-guess myself, I rapped on the door.

  It wasn’t a surprise when no one answered.

  The sinking feeling in my gut sank even lower. In one way, I had an answer, but in another sense I’d reached a dead end.

  “You with the po-lice?” someone called.

  I spotted a neighbor standing at the fence. She was meth-addict skinny and had thin hair, bags under her eyes, and dull skin.

  I
shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

  “The po-lice were here just an hour ago. Is Winnie okay?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I was looking for a dog walker.”

  “Winnie’s the best. Loves her animals. She didn’t have her own because she wasn’t home enough, but she took the time to pet any dog that came past her house. Never understood why she didn’t drum up business here in the neighborhood, though. Maybe she was too expensive for this area.”

  “You seen her lately?”

  She shook her head. “Not in a few days.”

  Chad pointed to the car. “Is that hers?”

  “No, that’s her roommate’s, but she’s in Europe for the semester, so it’s just been sitting there for the past month or two.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Who did you say you were again?”

  “Someone interested in dog walking.” With that, I climbed back into the car. We had to pick up the flowers, stop by my mom’s office, and get home.

  And, as I’d promised Chad, I was done with this, whether I wanted to be or not.

  On the way home, the rain, which had faded to a drizzle for about thirty minutes, now poured down in buckets.

  Things weren’t looking good for my parents’ celebration, which was scheduled to start in three hours.

  When I wasn’t feeling bad for my parents, I was also thinking about Big Boy. Where was he right now? I hated to think about him being out in this mess, but there was little I could do to help him.

  Just as we pulled onto my parents’ street, a loud boom filled the air. I glanced at Chad. “That can’t be good.”

  By the time we walked into the house, I knew what the noise was. Lightning must have hit nearby, because the power was out.

  My mom was semi-panicked, and not even the flowers I carried in my arms cheered her up. She’d been getting dressed for tonight and slipped back to her room. My dad followed, and I let them go.

  In case I hadn’t mentioned this yet, I’d never been good at cheering my mom up.

  Sharo paced on her cell phone, Aunt Yori was watching some kind of anime on her iPad, my sister was playing a board game with her husband, and Greg read a book in the corner.

  Just as I sat on the couch beside Chad, my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number, but I knew it was local thanks to the area code. The only local person I’d given my number to was Detective Meadows, so it was no surprise when I heard her voice.

  “The more I learn, the more guilty you look,” she started.

  “I’m not guilty.”

  “You obviously figured out who Winnie Dubois was, and you went to her house today. Try to cover up a clue you left behind?”

  “Of course not. I was actually looking for Big Boy.”

  “The dog.” Her voice was dull with disbelief.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s a nasty day outside. Your department lost him, so someone’s got to look out for the dog.”

  “I’d tread very carefully, Mrs. Davis. Very carefully.”

  Her words heated my cheeks. She was right. I was dealing with law enforcement right now. I had to be more respectful. “Of course.”

  “If you know something you’re not telling us, we can bring you in for impeding a police investigation. You realize that, right?”

  “Now I do.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  No sooner had I hung up than Dr. Moto came into the room. He shook his head solemnly as he took his seat across from us. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I just got some bad news.”

  More bad news? How much more could one group of people receive in a weekend? “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “My assistant is dead.”

  I tilted my head, wondering exactly where this conversation would lead. “I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

  “No one knows. But apparently, her body was found in the woods yesterday.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “The woman we found in the woods was your assistant?” I tamped down the excitement in my voice.

  Chad put his hand on my knee to ground me. I took a deep breath, remembering that I really didn’t have a personal stake in this, so I needed to bring my emotions down a notch.

  “That’s right. She walked dogs on the side. I gave her name and number to a couple of people on this street, as a matter of fact,” he said.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I live only one street over. The poor girl was struggling to make ends meet, and I always want to reward people for trying to make a go of things on their own. I figured it was the least I could do for her. I do interact quite a bit with the people here thanks to the community meetings.”

  Why didn’t I know any of this? I carefully avoided Chad’s gaze, because I knew I’d promised not to get involved. But I wasn’t really getting involved right now. I was just asking questions.

  “I thought my parents liked it here because there was no homeowners association.”

  “It’s not a homeowners association. It’s a civic league. We’ve had some thefts in the area lately, so we felt it was a good idea to all unite in order to prevent crimes from happening.”

  “Do the police have any idea what happened to Winnie?”

  Dr. Moto shook his head. “Not that I know of. They just called asking me when I’d seen her last.”

  “When did you see her last?” I asked.

  “She came into work on Wednesday. Thursday was her day off because she had classes. Then Friday I had taken off so I could spend time with the family here. I called the office manager, and she confirmed that Winnie never came in yesterday. We had no idea . . .”

  “Was she mixed up with the wrong crowd?” I continued, trying not to sound overeager.

  He shrugged. “Not that I know of. I did not exactly ask her about her social life, though. There are professional boundaries in place.”

  “Has she acted out of the ordinary lately?”

  He let out a feeble laugh. “Sierra, you ask many questions. I know not the answers.”

  “Would anyone in your office have the answers?” I didn’t know when to leave well enough alone, I supposed.

  “Perhaps Shaunda would. Would you like her number?”

  “Would it be weird if I said yes?”

  He laughed again. “I will call her first and make sure it is okay.”

  “One more question.” Push, push, push. It was what I did best at times.

  “Yes, Sierra?”

  Bless his heart—one of my favorite southern expressions—my godfather didn’t even look annoyed like anyone in his right mind might be.

  “Do you think any of your neighbors are capable of murder?”

  “Sierra, anyone is capable of murder. Anyone.”

  I wanted to ask more questions. I really did. But before I could, movement in the backyard caught my eye.

  My heart raced when I realized that Big Boy had returned.

  My mom reappeared at the base of the stairs, almost like she had a sixth sense that alerted her when something was about to go wrong.

  “Someone get that dog!” she shouted.

  Chad and I took off. We stepped outside into the rain. Big Boy ran toward me—until he saw that I was running for him. Then he turned on his tail, like he thought we were playing with him, and he dodged us.

  I was unsure whether to run or wait, but with an audience peering out the windows at me, I decided to sprint after him.

  Bad idea.

  He knocked over an entire row of chairs. What he didn’t knock over, he splattered mud on.

  “You go that way!” I shouted.

  Chad and I split up and finally had the dog cornered at the far end of the yard. Chairs bordered one side, a fence on the other, and Chad and I covered the paths of escape.

  I decided to talk sweet to him. “Come on, Big Boy. It’s okay.”

  The dog paused and stared at me. He stayed
where he was, and I crept close, knowing better than to lunge at him. I treaded very, very carefully, even resisting the urge to wipe the rain out of my eyes.

  Just as I thought I’d reached him, he jumped over a row of chairs. Somehow, in the process, he connected with the lights that were dangling from poles above us and jerked them all down. It all happened so fast that I nearly found myself tangled in the wires.

  Then, just as quickly as the whole fiasco had begun, Big Boy galloped off.

  I turned toward Chad. We were both wet, covered in mud, and wrapped in string lights. Around us, it looked like a hurricane had come through. Chairs were everywhere. The lights were down. A couple of tables had been knocked over.

  I looked back at my parents’ house and saw them gaping at me from the window. So much for cleaning everything up before they noticed.

  “The ceremony is canceled!” my mom cried, throwing her hands in the air. She wore her nicely tailored dress, a rose number that accentuated her tiny waist. Her hair was pulled back on the sides with little flowered combs, and her makeup looked perfect.

  Meanwhile, I—again—had mud all over me and smelled like nature. I dared not to sit on anything. I barely wanted to come inside, but I’d had no choice but to face the music, so to speak. Chad had been smart and immediately disappeared to the guesthouse to clean up.

  I tried to think of some solutions that would make everything better. “We can move the ceremony inside.”

  “No, it’s no use. It’s all ruined!”

  “Oh, Mai. Don’t give up.” Sharo handed my mom a tissue.

  A fire lit in my mom’s eyes. “I’m not giving up. But I am going to give someone a piece of my mind.”

  My mom stood, the tissue falling to the floor as she stormed toward the door. My initial thought was to stop her. It was immediately followed by the thought that I should join her.

  “Mai—” my dad started.

  “I’ve got it, Dad.” Because I’ve been so good at resolving conflict with my mom in the past.

  I followed her out the door. Just me and Mom. We said nothing as we strode through the rain.

  My mom’s hair stuck to her face, her mascara ran down her cheeks, and her clothes clung to her skin. I’d never, ever seen my mom like this.