Bark Up and Smell the Coffee

by Stella St. Claire

  “What?”

  “She assumed that the coffee grounds were poisoned like we did at first,” Willow said. “However, now we know it was the coffee that she was drinking directly that had the poison in it. Someone had to add it right before she drank from it.”

  “If Linda was at the high school, she couldn’t have done that. No matter how strong a motive someone killing your dog may be.”

  Wednesday took out her phone and dialed the number Linda had given them. Willow nodded appreciatively. It was time to see if they could rule out another suspect.

  20

  Wednesday sighed when she returned to the police station. It seemed as if the pile on her desk had grown. Oh well, she could work on it some now. It was after hours, so she could have some time to focus completely on the paperwork. Tomorrow she could take some pictures at the high school serving syrup on the pancakes which would be great for her feature. Then, she could get some work done at the station before writing her article on the dying dogs at the B&B. After submitting that, she could do something fun in the evening to post about. Or maybe she and Willow could catch up on what they had learned.

  Talking to the man in charge of the high school cafeteria had yielded two things. Wednesday had found out Linda had indeed been working at school every morning, so she couldn’t have added the poison. Wednesday had also secured a volunteer position in the morning.

  After that, she had done more research on any dogs that might have died while in Kaitlin’s care. The veterinarians and animal shelters she had spoken to didn’t tell her anything that made her think that there were other dead pets. However, she did get an adorable bell to put on Rover’s collar as a “get well” present.

  She pulled her chair back and was about to sit when she heard someone enter the room. Wednesday jumped. She thought she would be alone this late at night.

  “You’ve decided to come in?” her dad asked, turning on another light.

  “You scared me,” she said. “Though I do realize how funny that is to say. It should be safe at the police station.”

  Frank didn’t laugh.

  “I didn’t know you were working this late,” Wednesday said.

  “I’ve been waiting to ask you how my bio was coming along.”

  Wednesday kicked the ground. “I’d say I’ve got a solid start on it.”

  Frank walked up to her computer and moved the mouse, waking it up again. It showed the document she had been working on when she left earlier that day. The bio currently still only said, “Chief Frank Wells.”

  She smiled awkwardly. “Well, that is a good start, isn’t it?”

  Her dad didn’t look amused. “Wednesday, this is serious work, and there are serious deadlines.”

  “I know. And I’m going to finish everything. Seriously.”

  He sighed. “I want to support you with your online thing, but it’s not supposed to get in the way of your real job.”

  “My online thing is a job,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Not only is it how I can express myself, but it has the potential to be profitable, especially since I just gained an extra assignment from Clickable ConTENt.”

  “You took on another project?” Frank asked, not containing his annoyance. “Aren’t you busy enough?”

  “I can handle it,” Wednesday said. “Have I ever let you down?”

  “No. You haven’t. But I’ve never seen you this distracted before. And I can’t have you jeopardizing the station’s ability to run smoothly.”

  “I’m distracted because this is an amazing opportunity,” Wednesday said, getting heated. “You keep saying that you’re supportive, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

  “I just don’t think that you’re ready to leave your day job for Instagram.”

  Wednesday clenched her fists. He was right, but it still hurt to hear it said out loud. She was just starting out as an influencer, and she knew that she needed time to grow. She had thought that her father finally understood what she wanted to do, but it seemed she was wrong. He was just being patronizing. He still saw her pursuit of being a social media influencer as a hobby. Maybe he didn’t care what she did outside of work, but he wasn’t actively proud of what she was attempting.

  “Fine,” Wednesday said. She sat down and faced her computer with emotions welling up inside. “I’ll just get to work then.”

  Frank sighed and placed a hand on her chair.

  “I just want you to put a little effort into my bio. I’d prefer that you don’t spread information that makes me look bad.”

  “So, this is all about you and your bio?” she accused.

  “Wednesday, this is part of your job,” he said evenly. “And a lot of people are going to see this.”

  “I know. But I could write your bio in my sleep.”

  He shook his head, still looking grumpy. “I know. I can see that you’ve been gathering your information.”

  “What?” Wednesday asked as he gestured to the pile of files on her desk. “That’s my paperwork.”

  “With the Linda Grego complaints on top.”

  “I was looking through them.”

  “I’ll leave you to work on the bio,” he said. “Try to be not too harsh.”

  “Dad, what are you talking about?” Wednesday asked. “You’re an amazing detective.”

  He stopped walking and then turned towards her. He seemed surprised. Wednesday wanted to laugh.

  “You think that I don’t know that you’re great?”

  “But, those files?” he said. “Haven’t you been looking through them and seeing all the mistakes I’ve made through the years? The biggest one recently being that I ignored Miss Grego’s complaints. Maybe Kaitlin Janes would still be alive if I had been a more thorough investigator.”

  “Is that’s what’s been bothering you?” Wednesday asked.

  “I know now that I should have followed up on the complaints,” he said sadly.

  “Dad, that’s not your fault,” Wednesday said, moving directly in front of him. “I was the one who took down Linda’s initial complaint. And all of her many complaints. If anyone is to blame, it would be me. However, I still don’t think it was my fault. That bed-and-breakfast had a spotless reputation. The kitchen was incredibly well-kept too. Anyone who has been there will tell you that. It didn’t seem like there was anything to back up her statement. It didn’t make any sense at the time.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Linda is a neighborhood watchdog. Combined with how often she complains about other meaningless things, I didn’t think there was anything to her complaints. We didn’t know then that Kaitlin was a hoarder. She kept that hidden in her private apartment, and the complaints didn’t mention that we should look into her as a dog sitter and not as a hostess.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “I was starting to doubt my instincts,” Frank admitted. “But you’ve made me realize that the evidence wasn’t there at the time.”

  “And Linda didn’t want to provide it all. She told Willow and me more about it this time. She said her dog died because of Kaitlin’s messy house.”

  “She told you that?” he asked, sounding serious again. “Were you two investigating?”

  “No,” Wednesday said quickly. “We just went to talk to her about volunteering at the high school until the lunch lady is well enough to return to work.”

  “It just so happened that you wanted to ask her about what happened to be her alibi at the time that the poison would have to be planted?”

  “What can I say?” Wednesday said. “I like to help out.”

  “Just make sure that you don’t put too much on your plate,” he cautioned.

  “I’m not. Not really. The things I’m doing are all really part of the feature on my life. And the only new thing I added is to write about the dogs who died at Kaitlin’s. But I’ll spin that as part of my feature too.”

  Frank put a firm hand on her shoulder and led her back to her chair
. She sat down and stared up at him.

  “Don’t you want to hear about my day?”

  “It seems like I can find out all about it online,” he teased. “And I’d rather see you get some work done tonight.”

  “But, that’s what I’ve been trying to say. Everything I’m doing right now is a form of work.”

  “Well, I’d like to see you add a little more to my bio. Maybe write a sentence this time.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to worry about this. I can write this in no time flat.”

  “Then, you should be finished quickly,” he said.

  She gave him a look. Juggling everything required that she control when she did certain projects. She had just started to feel inspired about the case. She wanted to organize her thoughts about what she had found out and start writing the story about the “Murder Dog House.” Though based on what she had discovered, she was going to have to change that title.

  “I’d rather work on my other project first. I can feel the inspiration for it. I actually feel excited to start typing it out.”

  “How about you channel that typing enthusiasm for the bio,” Frank said. “And if you finish that, then you can have tomorrow morning off.”

  “Really?”

  Frank nodded. “And then you can go and do whatever it is that Instagram influencers do.”

  Wednesday smiled and nodded. Then, she set to add something of substance to her dad’s bio. He deserved something great.

  21

  The next evening, Telescope made a reassuring sound from the passenger seat of Willow’s car. She took one hand off the steering wheel to pat his head. They had planned on visiting Wednesday, but Willow sure wished she had more to report from her day.

  She felt like she was going in circles with her thoughts on the case, and she hadn’t discovered any more clues. She had felt a little better at the dog gym when she was training that afternoon. However, that was marred too. Terry had called and said that she decided to put Lady Valkyrie’s training on hold. Until it no longer looked like she was going to be charged for the crime, Terry thought that they were deluding themselves. She said that they couldn’t focus on a championship until the shadow of the murder had lifted.

  Willow couldn’t begrudge her those concerns, but she hated it all the same. Focusing on the Field Club Championship had been a happy distraction when everything else seemed to be going wrong. Also, without the money, Willow’s hand was going to be forced when deciding on the doggie spa renovations. She wouldn’t be able to make the decision on her own.

  Then again, it already seemed like she had lost her contractor for the job. The decided lack of Griffin in her life was something she was missing greatly.

  He had still arrived at her house promptly on time for work. However, he had declined a cup of coffee and had gone straight to starting on the renovations.

  When he finished for the day, he announced that the current repairs were all finished. The house as they had planned it was done.

  Willow had expected them to celebrate when this announcement was made. She had thought they might make a toast (and she could joke about how much she learned from the stupid lesson with Jack), or they might have had a celebratory meal. However, instead, they had merely walked around the finished house quietly. Willow nodded as he pointed out what had been fixed.

  Then, he had said goodbye and walked out the door.

  Willow had wanted to say something to fix the situation, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t completely trust that he didn’t have ulterior motives for wanting to date her. She knew it was possible that she was imagining these things, and that she was coming up with reasons to push him away, but she couldn’t stop herself. Maybe she really did want to distract herself by solving crimes and playing with dogs instead of investing in something that could be scary.

  Telescope barked. She patted his head again, thinking that he was trying to make her feel better. Too late she realized that he was reminding her to turn down the street to get to Wednesday’s house.

  “You’re one smart dog,” she said. “I should probably have let you drive.”

  Telescope wagged his tail in response. Willow turned her car around and headed down the right street. She parked and headed to the door.

  She was dreading knocking on the door and seeing Wednesday’s cheerful face ready to take some pictures of their girls’ night. However, after the door swung open, Willow saw that she was in no danger of that. Wednesday looked miserable.

  Willow hugged her right away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “‘My life,’” Wednesday grumbled.

  She led her sister inside and to the living room. Wednesday plopped on the couch and pulled a blanket around her. Willow followed suit. Rover bounded into the room, happy to see Telescope. He grudgingly accepted her friendly sniffs of his backside but kindly didn’t reciprocate so the stitches in her tail wouldn’t be disturbed.

  Willow stopped looking at the animals and looked at her sister.

  “What’s wrong with your life?” Willow asked. She wasn’t feeling too great about her own either and found the blanket comforting.

  “The feature. Clickable ConTENt hated it.”

  “I thought they loved what you were doing.”

  “They did at first,” Wednesday explained. “They liked all the posts I was doing and the pictures I was posting. But they didn’t like what I wrote about the B&B. I explained how Kaitlin was a hoarder but how we only had concrete evidence that one dog had died.”

  “Those are the facts,” Willow said.

  “That may be, but they wanted more,” Wednesday said sadly. “I gave them an article, and because it wasn’t as sordid as I am sure they were hoping, I told them how I could include it in the feature I was already doing. But they didn’t like that. They were so disappointed by what I did. They said they wanted something more hard-hitting.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “The worst part was that they thought that the reporter they were going to send would have done a better job. I feel like such a failure.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Willow assured her. “You’re great at sharing stories, whether it’s in writing or with photos. And you care about the truth. You were only going to say things that could be backed up.”

  “I guess so,” Wednesday said. “But I still feel lousy.”

  “Me too,” Willow admitted.

  “Why for you?”

  “Take your pick,” Willow said, leaning back against the couch. “I have no suspects, no boyfriend, and no championship dog.”

  “It’s tough to be the Wells girls these days,” her sister said dramatically.

  “I feel like we should do something, but I’m not sure what. Part of me wants to do some yoga to find some Zen, and the other parts want to get drunk.”

  “Well,” Wednesday said, perking up a bit. “Why don’t we do both?”

  Fifteen minutes later, the sisters were on their way to Namaste A While Studio. They had left Telescope with Rover so the “cousins” could play together, and they planned on joining one of the drop-in classes last minute, regardless of what it was. They lucked out because the one they arrived for was a mixed-level yoga class, suitable for everyone.

  They enjoyed the poses and synching their breath to the movements to try and gain inner peace. Willow appreciated working up a sweat and taking her mind off all her problems. As the class ended, they all put their hands together and bowed their heads.

  Willow rolled up her mat quickly and looked at her sister.

  “Time to hit the bar?” Wednesday suggested.

  Willow laughed and agreed. They headed over to the juice bar, and both selected a smoothie, not caring about the colors this time. Instead, they were looking for flavors that would be good to mix with the rum that they snuck into the studio in a special water bottle.

  They accepted their smoothies and when the juice maker’s back was turned, poured their special add-in to the mix. They clicked cups
together and took a sip.

  “I’m glad we did this,” Willow said.

  “Me too,” Wednesday agreed. “I didn’t want to stay cooped up in the house, feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Right. It’s much better to feel sorry for ourselves when we’re out and about,” Willow joked.

  “Do you think I’ve blown my opportunity to be an influencer? I convinced them that I would write a great story.”

  “If I’m completely honest, I don’t know if this site is going to keep working with you. But that doesn’t mean you’ve blown your shot in the field. People really like your posts.”

  “Thanks, Wills. I needed to hear that.” Wednesday took a big sip of her drink and then said, “And I know things will work out for you too. Terry is innocent, and the police will realize that. Probably with some help from you. And then you can get back to focusing on training.”

  Willow nodded. Training Lady Valkyrie would make her feel better, but things wouldn’t be completely right until she figured out what to do about Griffin. She debated telling her sister about the letter that Griffin had written to her in high school. It had been so sweet. How would she have reacted if she had seen it at the time? Would it have been easier than seeing it now and wondering if it was some sort of ploy?

  She poured a little extra liquid from her special water bottle into her drink and mixed it up.

  “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

  Willow turned around to see Miranda joining them at the bar. She had her hands on her hips.

  Wednesday gulped. “What do you think we’re doing?”

  “Spiking your drinks?” the studio owner asked.

  “Maybe,” the sisters responded in unison.

  Miranda laughed. “I don’t mind. As long as you don’t get too silly.”

  “We won’t get silly,” Willow assured her. “We’re having a pity party.”

  “I’m glad you decided to do it here where your mood will hopefully be lifted,” Miranda said. “Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?”

  “You can join us,” Willow said.