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

by Christy Barritt

  Aw, he actually sounded like he cared about the quality of life for my finned friends.

  “Too many chemicals can mean my inventory goes down the drain—literally. We’ll be flushing these guppies by evening.”

  Any hopes I had that the man might be good and decent disappeared. Inventory? He called his fish inventory?

  If I believed in reincarnation—which I didn’t—I might hope he returned to this world as one of the very fish he mistreated.

  At that moment, he looked up and saw me. Instantaneously, he scowled, shoved the chemicals into the quivering hands of one of his employees, and stormed toward me.

  “Sierra Nakamura. For what do I have the pleasure of seeing you here today?” he sneered. Literally sneered.

  “It’s Sierra Davis now.” I decided to get right to the point. “Do you know Tag Wilson?”

  He sneered again. “Another one of my favorite people. How fortuitous that the two of you know each other.”

  “I don’t actually know Tag. At least not in his living and breathing state.”

  “Huh?”

  “He’s dead,” I announced as an aquarium gurgled beside me.

  Jim’s eyebrows shot up. “Dead? What happened?”

  “A snake got to him.” I watched his expression carefully, trying to determine if he had any clue about that fact before I told him.

  His eyebrows slowly lowered back to normal position, yet his eyes retained a shocked expression. It appeared he was telling the truth—or he was a really great actor.

  “I see,” he finally said. “I heard a story on the news this morning about a man who died because of a python. I’m sorry to hear that was Tag.”

  “What were the two of you fighting about?”

  A crease formed between his eyes, and his shock appeared to turn into irritation. “Who said we were fighting?”

  “His former boss at Bunch Systems. Said it was quite heated. Plus your reaction when I said his name shows that he was not one of your favorite people.”

  His shoulders hunched up in overzealous outrage, and I expected at any minute he’d start treating me like his poor, defenseless little fish. I’d put my foot down as soon as he threatened to flush me. “What’s this have to do with Paws and Fur Balls?”

  “It’s Animal Protective Services now, and that’s none of your business. Now, would you please answer my questions before I report a number of violations I see here to the Better Business Bureau, and APS focuses their next campaign on you?”

  He scowled. “There’s nothing to report here, lady.”

  He obviously hadn’t learned yet that I had an eagle eye for any type of violation concerning the well-being of animals. “I’ll have you know that the Pet Purchase Protection Act deems it necessary—and mandatory—to display breeding history, as well as medical backgrounds, on the cages of the animals you’re selling here.”

  “What of it?”

  “When I walked past the puppies, I noticed you’re not following that regulation. Just think of the fines you’ll face if the wrong person finds out you’re violating this act.”

  He shrugged again before narrowing his eyes. “Fine. Since you’re going to play dirty—Tag and I had a disagreement. That’s all. No big deal.”

  “A disagreement about . . .”

  His eyes narrowed even farther. “A snake.”

  Now he had my interest. “What kind of snake?”

  “A python I agreed to sell to one of his neighbors.”

  Say what? Certainly I hadn’t heard him correctly. What sense did that make? “Why were you fighting with Tag about a snake that wasn’t his?”

  He grunted, grabbed a syphon, and started to vacuum the dirt from a tank full of guppies, probably so he could avoid eye contact with me. “Tag was trying to convince me to say that this snake was too dangerous for a residential area.”

  “And?”

  He shrugged, syphoning out water like his life depended on it. “He almost had me swayed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He paused, his jaw tightening. “Apparently the guy who bought the snake liked to drape some of his snakes over his shoulders and walk around the apartment building. That’s not smart snake ownership.”

  “You can’t own animals—” I started, so tired of trying to persuade people to change their way of thinking. It was an uphill battle.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. Save your argument for someone else. Anyway, Tag wanted me to sign a document saying the python was a public threat. He was going to take it to Animal Control and try to have the snake taken away.”

  I was trying to follow the logic here, but it seemed so convoluted. “So, it was okay for his neighbor Patrick to have the snake in his home as long as he didn’t walk around with it over his shoulders in public?”

  Jim sighed. “People think they can handle a snake that big, but most people can’t. I began having second thoughts after I sold the snake. Nightmares, actually. I didn’t want anything to happen. It looks like the worst-case scenario came true, though. I hate to hear that.”

  “Why even sell snakes like that at all if they’re so dangerous?”

  He paused from cleaning the fish tank, the water vacuum dripping all over the floor instead of into the bucket designed to catch the water. Jim didn’t seem to notice or care. “I gotta make a living. It may not be the way you think I should, but it pays my bills. I got the snake from a man down in Carolina. A lot of people who have pythons get them at a young age so they’re more moldable. This was a full-grown python, and we didn’t know what the animal’s history was. You have to know what you’re doing in order to handle a snake of that size.”

  “Yet you sold it anyway?”

  “I did, though I had misgivings. Patrick was very convincing.”

  “How did Tag even get you involved in the first place? What made him call you of all people instead of going straight to Animal Control himself?”

  Jim raised his shoulders. “We were friends. It’s best to keep the government out of things.”

  “But you and Tag were fighting?”

  “Only because Tag realized Patrick was never going to sell the snake back to me and he wasn’t happy about it. Can you blame the guy?”

  I sighed. It looked like the conversation hadn’t gotten me anywhere.

  At lunchtime, despite my determination to let it go, I ran over to Patrick’s apartment again. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I’d learned this morning, and the questions I’d formed were hunting me like a hungry wolf after a long, desolate winter. Since Gabby had said she’d keep Reef until two, I needed to do this now.

  I wanted to look at that vent one more time. I didn’t know why. Honestly, I mostly wanted to figure this out so I could go on with my life. It was probably selfish of me, but, if I could knock things off my to-do list, maybe my level of stress would be reduced.

  Stress reduction sounded like a great plan, especially considering that I’d snapped at two of my employees today and nearly chewed Chad out when he’d mentioned he forgot to change Reef’s diaper. Now I hoped my sweet boy didn’t get diaper rash. That would be just my luck, especially since Chad was leaving for West Virginia tomorrow, and he’d probably be gone for two weeks, at least.

  Someone was standing at Patrick’s door when I glanced up as I walked into the building. I bristled faster than a cat seeing a bathtub full of water. The young man—he was probably college-aged and he looked the role because of the stack of books and papers in his hands—looked down at me and offered a tight smile.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Do you live in this building?” He said the words quickly and succulently.

  I shook my head as I climbed the stairs, boosting my bag higher on my shoulder. I’d upgraded my sling purse to a large tote that had room for diapers and wipes, and I was still getting used to it. “No, I don’t. Can I help you with something?”

  His eyebrows came together, and he frowned as I approached. “I need to drop off some homework for Patrick,
and I haven’t been able to get in touch with him.”

  “That’s going to be difficult since he’s in Costa Rica this week.”

  He squinted in confusion before shrugging so fiercely that it seemed over the top. “In Costa Rica? Why do you think he’s in Costa Rica?”

  “Patrick won a contest, and now he’s vacationing in the rain forest.”

  The guy’s nostrils flared as if the very idea was repulsive. “Why would he be down there now?”

  I was feeling a mix of curious and annoyed. I’d felt a lot of that since starting this unofficial investigation. “I don’t know. Why not?”

  He shrugged a little too adamantly. This guy was obviously tightly wound and thought I should be able to read his mind. His body language screamed “high-strung.”

  “Because Patrick has school,” he said. “You don’t just leave in the middle of the semester, especially not senior year.”

  In terms of reasoning, the notion wasn’t solid enough to hold up in court. “Just because you wouldn’t, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t.”

  The student stared back at me like I’d grown a third eye. And like I was old and set in my ways. Little did he know that I’d been like this since before I hit puberty.

  I nodded to the book in his hands. “So Patrick asked you to bring his schoolwork by?”

  “No, but I know he needs this for one of our classes. He didn’t show up this morning, so I thought I’d bring his assignments by. You know—I’m trying to be a good friend.”

  “Really?”

  He scowled, caught in a lie. “We’re actually partners for one of the assignments. If he doesn’t do his part, that means I have to do it for him, or we both get marked down. I took Patrick as someone more responsible than this, and I resent him putting me in this position.”

  Now things were starting to make more sense. “When exactly did you talk to him last?”

  “Two days ago.”

  I tried not to show my surprise this time. “Let me get this straight: Two days ago you actually talked to Patrick? On the phone or in person?”

  The guy looked uber-annoyed now. I assumed he hadn’t guessed this conversation would be extended like this. After all, he’d started with a simple question. “That’s right. I talked to Patrick. In person. Two days ago in Norfolk.”

  Patrick had lied to Mandee. But why? It just didn’t make sense.

  “That can’t be right,” I muttered.

  He shoved the papers into my hands. “If you know so much about him, you give him these books. I’ve got to get to my next class.”

  “Wait! Where did the two of you meet two days ago?”

  “At a coffeehouse in Norfolk. The Grounds. Now I’ve got to run.”

  Chapter Eight

  I wanted to go to The Grounds, but first I had to see Reef. Like, I had to had to. The longest I’d been away from him since he’d been born was seven hours. I was nearing that record now, and he was all I could think about.

  When I walked into my apartment, Gabby was there, cradling Reef in her arms and studying some type of criminal justice handbook as he slept.

  “You’re going to spoil him,” I told her.

  She shrugged. “Is that a bad thing?”

  I didn’t say anything. Instead, I peered at his little face and felt myself relax. He was okay. Happy. Content. Cared for.

  I had to grab a bite to eat or I was going to pass out. Luckily, my apartment was small enough that I could be in the kitchen and still easily talk to Gabby as she sat in the living room.

  I put together a cucumber and sprout sandwich—I offered Gabby one, but she declined—and then I filled my friend in on my day.

  “So, you’ve got to look at a couple of different things here,” Gabby told me, closing her book. “First: who would want this guy dead? Second: who knew about the snakes? Third: who had access to the snakes? That would be a great start at finding your suspect.”

  I grabbed my sandwich and a glass of water as I thought her questions through. “Well, apparently a lot of people didn’t like this Tag guy. I don’t know if that means they would kill him, though.”

  “You might be surprised at people’s motivations for committing terrible crimes. People blow situations up in their minds. I cleaned this crime scene once where a woman had been murdered. It turned out she’d just gotten divorced, and she’d gotten ownership . . . uh—custody, I mean—of the dog. As a result, her ex thought she was the devil. He killed her, got the dog back, but ultimately ended up in jail.”

  “I love animals, but . . . that’s awful.” I shuddered and sat down in the rocking chair across from her. I desperately wanted to hold Reef, but I didn’t want to wake him up, and I knew I needed to eat while I had the chance.

  “Tell me about it. People’s perception of reality can be whacked-out. Anyway, who knew about the snake?” She leaned back into the couch, careful not to wake Reef.

  I thought about her question a moment. “Everyone in the apartment building. People at the pet shop, I suppose. Maybe a few of his friends. Again, it doesn’t really help me narrow down the suspects.”

  She nodded slowly. “Who had access to his apartment?”

  “Mandee.” I frowned when I said her name. Just the thought of her brought up negative feelings. “The landlord, I suppose. I’m not sure who else. However, Patrick’s spare key was beneath his doormat. Anyone could have found it.”

  “True that.” She sighed and squinted in thought. “The thing I find suspect here is that Patrick is supposedly in the area still. Why would he lie about that? Why would he want Mandee to snake-sit?”

  “Maybe so Mandee would take the fall for him?” I suggested.

  “It’s that, or he’s got impeccable timing,” she said.

  “Speaking of all this—I’ve been trying to catch up with Riley. I take it he’s been busy lately?”

  She nodded. “Big trial. It should be over soon. He’s waiting for the jury to come back with their decision. Why?”

  “I’m hoping he might help Mandee out.”

  “I’m sure he will. I’ll mention it to him when I see him later.”

  I continued eating, letting my thoughts turn over. But that was all they were doing—they weren’t going anywhere. Maybe I just needed to clear my head in order for more answers to come to light.

  I knew the perfect subject change. I took the last bite of my sandwich—I’d finished it in a mere six bites. I really had been famished. Then I launched into a new set of questions.

  “How are things between you and Riley, by the way?” I asked. “Did you set a date yet?”

  She flinched. The action was so subtle that I almost missed it, but I knew her well enough to read her body language. “Not yet. I’m just enjoying the moment. It’s when I start dreaming about the future that things get out of whack.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t even know what I mean. I suppose I’m saying that I’m going to take life day by day and enjoy what I’ve got while I’ve got it.”

  “That’s . . . interesting.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with that thought. I wanted to ask her more about it, but, before I could, she stood.

  “Speaking of the future . . . I’ve got to get ready for my trip.”

  I took Reef from her, and he continued sleeping against me.

  Gabby straightened her clothes, wiping at some spit-up on her snarky “Everything’s Better with Bacon” T-shirt. Since I didn’t approve of bacon, I decided to pretend it was tofu bacon she was endorsing. I only choose the “ignorance is bliss” method for friends.

  “I’ll be gone a couple of days, come home, and then get ready to head to West Virginia to help Chad,” Gabby continued.

  “You’re one busy girl.” Just as I finished my sentence, Reef’s eyes popped open. I smiled down at him.

  “I’m excited about this old theme park we’ll be restoring. It should be a lot of fun. And you know what they say about fun.”

  “
No, what?”

  “That girls just want to have it.” She started singing the Cyndi Lauper song until I actually giggled. Well, Reef smiled first, and then every tense muscle in my body turned to gelatin.

  “He smiled!” I said, my voice lilting with delight.

  “Aunt Gabby will make you smile a lot,” she said, giving him her best duck lips and waving her finger near his belly until he smiled again.

  “You’ve got the touch,” I told her.

  “I’m telling you: you should come to West Virginia. It will be . . . fun. And I’ll get to see Reef . . . and you too, of course. That’s a given.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Fun is not what I would call it.”

  “You can work from there. Come on. It would be like old times. The gang would be together again, living an adventure instead of going through the daily grind. Think about it. Life has been awfully adult-like lately.”

  Reef cooed in my arms again. Getting away did sound nice. So did hanging out with Gabby, Riley, and Chad. “I’ll think about it.”

  “And keep me updated on this mystery. You know I’d love to dig in—if I didn’t already have these workshops planned. Otherwise, I’d be right by your side.”

  I nodded. Her words were true. She was always more than ready to jump in feet first. “Got it.”

  But first things first: I had to visit The Grounds.

  The Grounds just happened to be located right across the street from my apartment building. I lived in a converted old Victorian in a trendy neighborhood located snugly beside downtown Norfolk. Everything I needed—and more—was located within walking distance of my home.

  I planned on heading over there, but first I called into the office and gave various instructions to my employees about what to do, feeling the strange need to mention to everyone that I would be working this weekend. I didn’t want anyone to think I was a slacker.

  Then I put Reef into a sling, hurried across the street, and stepped into my favorite coffeehouse and hangout. The place was soothing, with its wood floors and eclectic table-and-chair sets. Local artwork hung on the walls, and acoustic music made everything better as it crooned through the speakers.