Barking up the Wrong Tree: Willow Bay Witches #2

by Silver, Samantha

  “Yeah, it is,” I replied. Why now? Why did she decide she needed someone in her life at this exact moment?

  “I wonder why she didn’t tell us though.”

  “Maybe because she thought we’d react like this,” I said, with a small smile. “After all, it sounds like neither one of us are totally thrilled about this new development.”

  “Well no, but only because it’s so strange,” Charlotte replied. “Do you think we should tell Sophie?”

  “You know damn well I’m going to have to tell Sophie. I can’t hide something like this from her.” Sophie was my best friend, but I’d grown up living in the same house as her. We were practically sisters.

  “Fine. But you have to make her promise she’s not going to bring him up to her mom until her mom tells us about him. We need to respect her wishes, she’ll tell us about him when she’s ready.” Leave it to my sister to still be the mature one in this situation, despite being the youngest.

  “Ok. I promise. We won’t ask her about him until she mentions him. Besides, you might have it all wrong anyway. It might be something totally different.”

  “Maybe. But if you’d seen them, you’d be sure too.”

  I took another big bite into my sandwich as the bell above the front door went off. Instinctively I looked to see who had come in, and saw it was Antonia deLucca, one of the local town gossips. She was in her late 60s now, I presumed, and spent her whole day sticking her extra big nose into other peoples’ business. And right now, she looked like the cat that had just caught the canary, and wanted to tell everyone about it.

  She walked up to the counter, chest puffed out. I caught Charlotte’s eye and pointed subtly. Antonia looked like she had something juicy. But at the same time, her face was pale, and she actually looked older than usual, which was impressive, seeing as Antonia deLucca was pretty much ancient.

  I wasn’t her biggest fan, especially after she started a rumour that I was involved in a murder a couple of months ago, when the victim had broken into my vet clinic to try and save himself.

  “Betty, my dear,” Antonia told Betty behind the counter. “I’ve just come from the most interesting scene.”

  “Oh yes, Antionia? And what might that be?” Betty asked, playing Antonia’s game.

  “There’s been another murder in Willow Bay!”

  At that, the whole café went completely silent. Even the fridge stopped humming. I felt my breath catch in my throat.

  “Another murder?” Betty finally asked. “Are you sure?”

  Antonia nodded, looking around the room at the ten or so people sitting at tables, enjoying their lunches.

  “Yes! Another murder! Although Chief Gary won’t tell me that himself, it’s obvious that’s what it is.”

  “Who is it?” I heard Charlotte ask.

  “Poor old Andrea Dottory,” Antonia replied, shaking her head sadly and clucking her tongue. Charlotte and I looked at each other. If anyone in Willow Bay was a likely candidate to be murdered, it was Andrea.

  Andrea Dottory was one of the other town gossips, but she was much more malicious than Antonia deLucca. She was in her mid-70s, and had lived in Willow Bay ever since she emigrated from Ireland in the early 50s. No one in town liked her, mainly because she had started nasty rumours about almost everyone, at some point. And she didn’t mind telling people about them to their faces, either.

  I looked at Charlotte.

  “Murder?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, at 70 plus years old it’s less likely than other things.”

  Antonia overheard us and came over to our table.

  “No, no. It’s murder. Believe me, I know. Andrea told Patricia Wilson the other day she was going to be murdered soon, she could feel it.”

  “Did she happen to tell you tell Patricia who was going to commit the murder?” I asked dryly.

  “No. She didn’t.”

  “Well, that would have been helpful.”

  “It’s not like she died in her sleep. She was found lying in the middle of the road, around the corner from her house, and her head was bashed in!”

  Charlotte and I looked at each other. Willow Bay had had its first murder since the 1910s just a couple of months ago. What on earth were the odds that we’d have two in two months?

  Chapter 3

  After we finished our sandwiches, Charlotte said she had to go home. I looked at my watch. There were still twenty minutes before I had to be back at the vet clinic, and I knew that Andrea Dorotty’s home was only a five minute walk away.

  “Come on, Charlotte. Let’s go see if there’s anything we can do, at least,” I begged, trying to appease the part of Charlotte that was becoming a doctor to help people. My sister rolled her eyes, immediately seeing through my ruse.

  “She’s dead, Angela. I don’t think there’s anything we can help with.”

  “Sophie would totally want to come with me,” I whined.

  “Well then invite her. I’m not going to join in the macabre spectacle of trying to see a body.”

  Did I mention that Charlotte could be wound up pretty tight sometimes?

  “I don’t want to see the body, I just…”

  “You just what?” Charlotte asked, putting her hands on her hips. “And if you answer you just want to look for clues, I’m leaving, right now. You know what happened last time you got involved in a murder investigation.”

  When Tony Nyman had been killed, and I had found his body in my vet clinic, Sophie, Charlotte and I had decided to investigate. It led to the three of us almost being killed by the head of a planned resort project in the middle of a forest.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I’m not going to try and solve the murder. We don’t even know if it was a murder. She was in her 70s and all our information comes from one of the least reliable sources in the whole town. I just want to see if she really was murdered. And no, I don’t want to wait for the paper tomorrow to find out.”

  Charlotte sighed.

  “Fine. But only if we’re quick.”

  “I have to be back at the vet clinic in 20 minutes. We’ll be quick.”

  * * *

  Five minutes later we were standing on Oak street, adjacent to the street Andrea had lived on. It wasn’t hard to figure out where to go, it seemed like half the town had come out to see what was happening.

  “So macabre,” I heard Charlotte mutter behind me, and I ignored her as I pushed my way towards the front of the crowd. A number of tarps had been set up surrounding the site, so nobody from the general public could actually see the body. A van from the county medical examiner’s office had pulled up behind the tarps, so I suspected they were likely going to be moving the body pretty soon.

  “See? We can’t see anything. We might as well go,” Charlotte complained. I couldn’t help but think she was probably right. I wasn’t even sure why I’d come here, there was just something in my gut that told me it was a good idea. And as a witch, my gut was usually right.

  “Give me a few minutes,” I begged Charlotte. I saw the police chief, Gary Wells, off to one side of the crime scene. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, then went back to his work, his face lined and worried looking. If this really was a murder, the pressure would be on.

  After Zoe Wright was arrested for a number of crimes for which she was currently serving a 30-year sentence after a plea agreement with the district attorney, Chief Gary became an instant celebrity: the small town police chief who foiled a murder by the head of a major corporation. There were articles about him in The Washington Post, the New York Times, and every paper in Oregon as well. I had a feeling Chief Gary wanted absolutely no part of his newfound fame, and another body landing on his doorstep probably wasn’t going to be a good thing for him.

  I looked around, trying to figure out why my brain insisted I be here. What was it that I was supposed to see? I could see absolutely nothing around the crime scene; that was covered by tarps. My eyes scanned the crowd. Everyone I could see was l
ocal, no one stood out or looked exceptionally suspicious. Still, I mentally gathered a note of everyone who was here. After all, you never knew if the criminal was going to return to the scene of the crime.

  I focused on the houses around the scene. They were mainly small bungalows, modern enough, a nice little neighbourhood. A little Jack Russell terrier that I knew was excitedly barking at the window, wanting to be involved in the energy happening outside.

  The dog.

  Of course, that was it. Andrea Dottory had a little dog named Sprinkles, and I knew that she walked him every single day. Like clockwork. She told me about it whenever Sprinkles came in for his appointment; one walk in the morning, down to Main street, one walk in the late afternoon, when things cooled down a bit.

  “Charlotte,” I said, looking around for my sister. I found her ten feet away, looking away from the crime scene, her arms crossed. She couldn’t have made it more obvious that she didn’t want to be here if she tried.

  “Yes?” she asked. “Can we go yet?”

  “No, Charlotte, I need to ask Chief Gary about Sprinkles.”

  “Sprinkles?”

  “Andrea’s dog. She would have been walking him. I want to know if they found him.”

  “Fine, but then we go.”

  “Deal.”

  I made my way to the edge of the police cordon and leaned against the yellow rope. I caught the eye of a tall guy with ruffled blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes. It was Taylor Shaw, Sophie’s boyfriend, who worked as a cop, and motioned for him to come over.

  “Hey, Taylor,” I greeted him. “Can you tell me if you guys found Sprinkles?”

  “Sprinkles?”

  “Andrea’s dog. She would have been walking him this morning.”

  “Taylor looked thoughtful. “I haven’t heard anything about a dog. Stay here, let me go ask Chief Gary for you.”

  I watched as Taylor went over to Chief Gary, spoke to him for a minute. I saw Chief Gary look over at me, and then he spoke to Taylor again, shaking his head. When Taylor came back, I already knew the answer.

  “No, there was no dog here. Though Andrea had a couple dog poo bags in her pocket, so she must have been walking him. Do you know what Sprinkles looks like?”

  I nodded. “He’s red and white, probably an Australian Shepherd mix. Andrea was never completely sure, she rescued him from a shelter in Portland a few years back. He’s extremely sweet, and should come when called, though he can also be pretty shy so it might help if you have treats. I can text you a picture when I get back to the office, I have one in his file.”

  “That would be good, thanks. We’ll keep an eye out,” Taylor told me.

  “Thanks,” I replied, turning around to find Charlotte, getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. Sprinkles was the sweetest little dog, and I really, really hoped he was ok.

  When I found Charlotte, she was hanging out at the edge of the crowd that had formed.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, and I nodded. On the way back to the vet clinic, I told her about Sprinkles. Charlotte frowned.

  “Do you think that dog’s at Andrea’s home?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so. Surely the cops are there already, and so Chief Gary would have known about it. Plus I’m sure she was walking him.”

  “That poor thing. I’ve seen Sprinkles once or twice, he’s a sweet dog.”

  “He really is. I wonder what happened to him. I bet that when Andrea collapsed he got scared and ran off. After I’m done at the clinic I’m going to go look for him, if you want to help.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yeah. I don’t really have any plans for the afternoon, I was just going to do a bit of light studying. So I can actually start looking for him now, while you’re at work.”

  I shot Charlotte a grateful look. “You’re my favourite sister, you know.”

  Charlotte laughed. “That might mean something if I wasn’t your only sister.”

  “But seriously, thank you,” I told her. I liked Sprinkles, but he never really gave off the impression of being able to handle himself alone in the woods. He was more the lying down at your feet getting rubs type of dog.

  I gave Charlotte a quick hug, then headed back to the vet clinic, hoping Sprinkles would show up quickly.

  Chapter 4

  The afternoon at the vet clinic was hectic, but nothing compared to that morning. When we finally finished up and were all out the door at ten past five, I finally got my first chance of the afternoon to tell Sophie about Sprinkles, and Andrea Dottory.

  “Awwwww, I love Sprinkles!” Sophie exclaimed. “Andrea, well, it’s sad when anyone dies, but let’s face it, she was a pretty terrible person.”

  “I think there’s a saying about not speaking ill of the dead,” I told Sophie. “You’re gonna get some bad karma if you don’t watch out.”

  Sophie shrugged. “What? It’s true. Just because someone’s dead we have to lie about how great a person they were?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, Charlotte’s out looking for Sprinkles, and I’m going to go give her a hand. Wanna join?”

  “Of course!” Sophie replied. “That poor little doggie, all alone out there. We only have a few hours before it’s going to get dark, so let’s get started!”

  I smiled at my best friend. We were very different, but where it mattered we were pretty much exactly the same.

  “Good. I’ll text Charlotte to see where she is.”

  Ten minutes later we’d joined up with my sister.

  “I’ve made posters and hung them up everywhere,” Charlotte told us as she waved at us from the street she was searching on. She had a handful of coloured sheets of paper in her hand and a stapler. “I’ve also called the animal shelter. They haven’t gotten any new animals today, and I’ve asked them to call me if they get any fitting Sprinkles’ description. Also, I’ve knocked on doors and handed flyers to the neighbours in a three block radius from Andrea’s home.”

  I looked at Charlotte in appreciation. If there was one thing my sister had, it was work ethic. “Wow. Thanks, Charlotte, that’s great!”

  “It’d be better if any of this led to anything, but we’ll have to see,” Charlotte said. “I’ve checked all the streets around here, and a few backyards, but I think he may have run into the woods behind this neighbourhood.

  I sighed. “Ok. Let’s go in there and have a look, hopefully we’ll find him. We’ll look until it gets dark.”

  There was a path near where we were that led into the forest straight into Railworkers Memorial Park, the main community gathering place in Willow Bay. We quickly decided that this was the best way to go, and headed for the entrance.

  “Why don’t you guys do a spell to call him to you, or something?” Sophie asked when we were in the forest, well away from the prying eyes and ears of the citizens of Willow Bay.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Charlotte replied. “The recall spell doesn’t account for anything being in the way between the witch and the object being called, so if we tried it and he was in the forest he’d likely be pulled straight into a tree and killed.”

  “Damn. If only we lived in Nebraska,” Sophie muttered.

  “Wow, I think that’s the first time in human history anyone has ever muttered that particular sentence,” I joked. Sophie giggled in appreciation.

  “Nebraska still has corn fields, it would still be dangerous,” Charlotte argued.

  “It was a joke, silly,” Sophie explained to her. “You can read about what a joke is in one of your books.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and we kept going.

  Every time I looked at Sophie I thought about her mom dating someone. It seemed so strange. So unlike Lisa. And every single ounce of my being wanted to tell her, but I’d promised Charlotte I wouldn’t. I really, really hoped no one would bring up Lisa, because I knew I was a terrible liar, and if we started talking about Sophie’s mom, there was no way Sophie wouldn’t know that I was hiding something.

  Luckily, however, we spe
nt the next fifteen minutes in relative silence, occasionally calling out Sprinkles’ name, and straining our ears in the hopes of being able to hear him running through the brush.

  We failed, but we did get very adept at being able to tell the sound of squirrels and robins apart as they ran off whenever we came near.

  When we finally arrived at Railworkers Memorial Park, we were absolutely no closer to finding Sprinkles. Sophie sighed as she sat on a picnic table and rested her hand in her chin.

  “It breaks my heart to think of that poor little doggie having to spend the night alone in the woods,” she admitted, sighing.

  “I know,” I replied. If anything, my feelings for Sprinkles were even stronger. After all, I’d had conversations with the dog. I’d spoken to him. It was rough; I wanted nothing more than to see his little tail wagging as he came towards us.”

  “What if he still had his leash on and it got caught on something? What if he can’t get away?” Sophie asked, getting more and more upset.

  “You can’t think about that sort of thing,” Charlotte scolded. “Come on. That’s not going to get anyone anywhere. We just have to keep going. We’ll find him.”

  “Fine,” Sophie huffed, getting up off the picnic table. I didn’t want to say anything, but to be honest, I didn’t think we were going to find Sprinkles here in Railworkers Memorial Park. After all, there were always people around here; if Sprinkles had made his way here someone would have caught him and called animal control. After all, this was Willow Bay. Everyone knew Sprinkles belonged to Andrea Dottory, and by now everyone in town would have heard that she had died.

  Before I had the chance to make my opinion known, though, I saw something else that made my breath catch in my throat.

  On the other side of the park, sitting on a bench and people-watching, was Jason Black.

  “Is that…” I asked the others, my voice trailing off as I looked in his direction. Charlotte and Sophie spun around to see what I’d been looking at.

  “Yup. That’s him,” Sophie replied. “You should go say hi.”