Killer Cables

by Reagan Davis

  “I’m planning to walk over to Laura’s house in a little while to drop off Sophie. I can ask her for the package and bring it back to the store, if that helps,” I offer.

  “Why don’t I walk over there with you,” he suggests. “It’ll give me a chance to introduce myself and thank her personally. I’m still the new guy in town, and an introduction from an already-trusted community member like you is always helpful.”

  He crosses his arms in front of his chest. Don’t stare at his chest, Megan. Or his biceps. Look away.

  “Also, I really don’t want to show up at the station and tell Amy I don’t have that package,” he adds.

  “You two should go now while I’m here to watch the store.” Connie makes a sweeping motion with her hands to dismiss us.

  “I guess I’ll get Sophie and me bundled up,” I say, shrugging.

  “Great,” Eric says, “I’ll go get my coat.”

  Chapter 2

  April says goodbye and heads back to the bakery, and I help Sophie put on her sweater and attach her leash.

  Connie asks me how I’ll walk with Sophie while carrying all her accessories to Laura’s house at the same time.

  I tell her about my plan to drop off Sophie’s stuff when I go back to Laura’s house after dinner to walk Sophie. This trip is just to fill the immediate need to reunite Laura and Sophie.

  Sophie has at least three complete sets of everything she needs. She has a bed, toys, dishes, food, and sweaters at my house, Laura’s house, and Knitorious. Those are just the Sophie accessories I know about. She’s adored and doted on, and there’s no doubt Laura makes sure Sophie has everything she needs to keep her comfortable and happy.

  “Ready?”

  Eric is wearing the hat and scarf I knitted for him after he saved my life. The honey-coloured flecks in the forest-green yarn complement the honey-coloured flecks in his brown eyes. Don’t stare at his eyes, Megan.

  While Eric holds the back door open, Sophie goes out first, then I step outside, directly onto a patch of ice. I immediately slip and lose my balance as inelegantly and awkwardly as humanly possible.

  Eric grabs one of my flailing arms to stop me from falling and helps me recover my balance.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Are you OK?” he asks.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Except for my dignity, which is bruised.

  “I have to remember to put salt on that patch of ice as soon as I get back from Laura’s,” I tell him.

  “Are you taking Sophie to Aunt Laura’s?” Phillip calls out while loading floral arrangements into his delivery van.

  “Hi Phillip,” I say. “Yes, we’ll drop Sophie off, check to see if Laura needs anything, and pick up the dog sweaters she’s donating to the silent auction.”

  We walk closer to Phillip because he’s soft spoken, and it’s difficult to hear him, even across our small, shared parking lot.

  “Thanks again for dog sitting, Megan. I’d have done it, but you know, Kevin,” he says, rolling his eyes and jabbing his thumb behind him, toward his store.

  He bends down, scratches Sophie between the ears, and stands up again.

  “Before I left, I settled Aunt Laura into her chair in front of the TV. She has her knee scooter on one side, but she shouldn’t need to get up for anything until I go back with her lunch. I set up a table on her other side with the TV remotes, a glass of water, her knitting, her laptop, and the phone. I also gave her the mail that has accumulated while she’s been away, and she already had her daily coffee while she was waiting to be discharged. She shouldn’t need anything, but I appreciate you checking in.”

  Organization is Phillip’s superpower; he takes it to a new level. If the organization were an Olympic sport, he’d represent Canada and have gold medals to show for it.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have the sweaters,” Phillip says, looking at Eric. “I didn’t know I was responsible for delivering them. Her phone rang as I was getting ready to leave. She answered it and probably forgot to tell me to take them.”

  “No worries,” Eric says. “This works out better. I can thank her in person for the donation.”

  “OK, well I’m picking up her soup after I make these deliveries, so I might see you there,” Phillip says, then raises his index finger. “Oh! And her sister, Glenda, should arrive any time. She’s coming to stay with Aunt Laura and help her until the cast comes off.”

  “Got it,” I say. “Drive safe.”

  I give him a wave as we walk away from him.

  It’s warmer than it was earlier, and the sun is out now, so it’s almost a pleasant day for a walk. Sophie is in front of me, crisscrossing back and forth, contentedly trotting from one side of the sidewalk to the other, sniffing as she goes.

  “So, Phillip is Laura’s nephew?” Eric asks.

  Sometimes, I forget he’s new and doesn’t know how everyone in town is connected to one another.

  “Not exactly,” I say. “Laura and Phillip’s mum were best friends, so she’s like an aunt to him. Laura and her late husband didn’t have kids, and now that Phillip’s mother has passed, Laura dotes on him like his mother did, and Phillip takes care of her like he did his mother. Harmony Lake is a small community with deep connections. Not all families here are biological.”

  “Like you and Connie,” he says.

  “Right.” I nod.

  “If they’re so close, and he seems fond of Sophie, why didn’t he look after Sophie while Laura was in the hospital?” he asks.

  “Kevin doesn’t like dogs,” I explain.

  “Who’s Kevin? His son, dad, partner?”

  “His chihuahua,” I explain. “Kevin is a small dog with a big personality. He has definite likes and dislikes, and he definitely doesn’t like other dogs.”

  “Can I ask something else?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  “What’s going on with Laura Pingle and the Animal Centre? What was April talking about at the store?”

  “When Laura, Connie, and the rest of their clique were growing up, Laura’s dad was the town veterinarian. He founded the Harmony Lake Animal Hospital. As the hospital grew, he took on a younger vet named Dr. Pingle. Laura and Dr. Pingle fell in love and got married. When they took over the animal hospital, they expanded it to include a shelter and an adoption centre for homeless pets. Then they expanded it again to include a sanctuary for rehabilitating injured and sick local wildlife. Because of its reputation as a haven for animals, the Pingles were often asked to take in exotic pets confiscated in nearby towns or abandoned by people who found their care too difficult. But since the exotic animals and local wildlife they rehabilitated couldn’t be released back into the wild, they acquired quite a few permanent residents along with the expenses of caring for them. The AC sits on a huge plot of land so the Pingles built barns, buildings, and fenced-in areas to meet the needs of the various animals who live there. But as the organization expanded, the income from the animal hospital wasn’t enough to cover the expenses of the hospital, the shelter, and the sanctuary. So, they created the Education Centre which, in exchange for a fee, provides tours and educational and volunteer opportunities for schools, community groups and anyone else interested in learning about the animals there. The Harmony Lake Animal Hospital evolved into a non-profit organization now called The Vanity Fur Centre for Animal Health & Wellness.”

  I stop to take my mitts from my pockets and put them on.

  “Are you with me so far?” I ask.

  “So far, so good,” he replies.

  “Fast forward to today. Dr. Pingle passed away and Laura is now the executive director of the AC. Mega Mart decides the land the AC sits on would be a great location for a Mega Mart Store and makes Laura and her sister, who own the land together, a generous offer to purchase it. To make the store a reality, they also need to purchase a piece of land from the Willows farm which is next to the AC. Now, this is where it gets controversial. Are you still with me?”

&nbs
p; Eric nods, “I think so.”

  “Mr. Willows wants to sell, but Laura doesn’t. Unfortunately for Mr. Willows, the Mega Mart offer is all or nothing. They either purchase Laura’s land and the Willows’ land, or they don’t purchase any land at all, and find a different location for the store. The town council is involved because if the land sales happen, Mega Mart would need permission and permits from the town to build the store. Half the town council wants a Mega Mart in Harmony Lake, and half the town council is against it. It’s the most controversial political event we’ve had since the DuPont’s cat was accidentally elected as a town councillor.”

  I take a deep breath of crisp winter air.

  “Did that actually happen?” Eric asks. “The cat thing, I mean.”

  “Sure did,” I reply. “It’s still a sensitive subject for some people, so don’t mention it to anyone unless you know which side they were on. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you when we have time.”

  When we turn onto Laura’s street, Sophie increases her tail-wagging speed, and I can feel her pulling the leash. She knows where she is, and she’s excited to go home.

  “Can I ask you about one more thing?”

  “Uh-huh,” I say.

  “Did someone ask you on a date? It sounded like Connie and April were trying to convince you to go on a date earlier.”

  I roll my eyes behind my sunglasses and fight the urge to sigh dramatically and shake my head. I sense this going from two against one to three against one.

  “No, but Connie and April are of the opinion that I should be dating. They worry I’m lonely.”

  “Are you? Lonely, I mean.”

  “No. I’m alone, but I’m not lonely. Alone and lonely aren’t the same thing.”

  We turn up Laura’s snowless driveway. I assume from the attention to detail of the snow removal and carefully cultivated curb appeal, that Phillip takes care of the exterior of Laura’s home.

  “For the first time in twenty years I don’t have to answer to anyone, or live with someone else’s habits, or ask someone’s opinion before I make a decision. Right now, I’m happy with that. I don’t want to make accommodations for someone else, you know? You probably think it sounds selfish.”

  “I get it, and I don’t think it’s selfish,” Eric says, “but there’s a middle ground. You don’t have to choose between single or fully committed. You can meet people and date on your own terms, with boundaries, and keep your independence. I think that might be what Connie was trying to say, though it might have come across like she’s trying to marry you off before you pass your expiration date.” He grins.

  “Ha ha! You’re a funny guy. I think I like you better when you’re in cop-mode and don’t have a sense of humour.”

  We climb the two steps to Laura’s porch.

  “Here we are,” I declare.

  “Her driveway is spotless,” Eric observes. “The other driveways all have some snow on them, but hers is snowless. Phillip must shovel her snow. Did he make these urns too? They’re amazing,” he says, gesturing toward the large metal urns on either side of the porch that contain beautifully arranged, seasonal foliage.

  There is real garland decking the roof above the garage and porch, and window boxes with sprigs of evergreen and clusters of holly. It’s like being at a photoshoot for Better Homes & Gardens.

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m guessing Phillip takes care of the outside of the house.”

  “He does a beautiful job. His own house must be awesome,” Eric speculates.

  “It is,” I confirm.

  I look at Phillip’s perfectly landscaped yard and garden every day since we’re next-door neighbours.

  “No matter how hard I try to maintain my yard and garden to his standard, I feel like my house is the before and his house is the after on a landscaping reality show.”

  Sophie is whimpering and bouncing, her little paws tippy tapping in anticipation. I notice there’s mail in the mailbox, so I take it out to bring it into the house.

  “In case two weeks’ worth of mail isn’t enough for her to read?” Eric asks jokingly when I take the envelopes from the mailbox.

  I turn the doorknob then stop and let go when I feel my body tense up. I take a deep breath.

  “Heavy shoulders, long arms,” I mutter.

  A trick I learned years ago from a yoga instructor to release tension in the neck and shoulders.

  Eric puts a hand on my arm.

  “Are you OK, Megan?”

  “The last time I let myself into a neighbour’s home, I found a dead body, remember?”

  “The odds of that happening again are next to impossible,” he says in a gentle, reassuring tone. “Most people never discover a dead body. It’s a rare occurrence. The odds of it happening twice to the same person would be miniscule. How about this? I’ll go in first, make sure everything is OK, then you follow.”

  He’s right, the chances of Laura being dead are slim to none, and slim just left town, as my dad would say.

  Statistically, I’m probably more likely to get struck by lightning, or bitten by a shark, than I am to find another dead body.

  “Thank you, but I’ll go in first. You’re right. It’ll be fine. And she’s never met you. It might scare her to see your giant six-foot frame suddenly appear in her house.”

  I kick the snow off my boots against the brick wall next to the door, then bend down and detach Sophie’s leash. I open the door and Sophie tears into the house and down the hall.

  Chapter 3

  As I walk into the house, Sophie lets out a high-pitched, excited yelp and disappears around the corner, into the kitchen.

  “Hi, Laura!” I shout from the foyer, “I have more mail for you. I’ll bring it in and add it to your pile.”

  I bend down to take off my boots.

  “Sophie missed you so much. You should’ve seen how excited she was when she realized where we were going.”

  On the table by the door, I see the bag of dog sweaters with Amy’s name on it. I point it out to Eric, put Sophie’s leash on the table next to it, and walk down the hall toward the kitchen.

  “Laura, I brought Eric with me. He’s picking up the dog sweaters for the auction.”

  As I’m about to walk from the kitchen to the family room, I hear Sophie whining and making whimpering sounds.

  In the family room, Sophie is crying and pacing back and forth in front of Laura’s chair.

  “Oh, you’re asleep,” I whisper.

  Sophie whines and puts her front paws on Laura’s chair.

  “Shhhh.” I raise my index finger to my mouth to shush her. “Let her sleep, Sophie.”

  Laura is asleep in the chair with her casted leg elevated and resting on a cushion on the ottoman in front of her.

  I approach Laura, and add the mail I brought to the pile of mail beside the empty coffee mug on the table beside her, and look carefully at her sleeping face.

  You are sleeping, right, Laura?

  Hello, knot! I get a knot in my stomach when something isn’t right. It’s one of the things my intuition does to get my attention. The last time the knot formed in my stomach was when I found a dead body.

  I touch Laura’s wrist. It’s not as warm as it should be, and I can’t detect a pulse.

  No. Please, no. Not again. Please not again. Not Laura. Not today.

  “Laura?”

  Gently, I squeeze her hand.

  “Laura, can you hear me?” I ask softly.

  I shake her hand.

  “Laura! wake up!” I shout.

  Her chest isn’t rising and falling.

  She’s dead.

  “Eric!” I scream, “I think she’s dead!”

  He runs around the corner from the kitchen and checks for a pulse in her neck. His phone is already to his ear, and he’s calling for help.

  I’m having flashbacks to the last time this happened, and I struggle to inhale deeply enough.

  How can this be happening again?

  I step ba
ckwards into the kitchen and turn, so I’m not looking at Laura, while I try to regulate my breathing. I notice a coffee mug on the drying rack beside the sink, so I focus my gaze on it while I breathe in 1...2...3...4… and breathe out 1...2...3...4…

  Feeling a bit more composed, I turn back to Laura and Eric.

  He’s still on the phone. I put my hand on the kitchen table to steady myself and notice a light purple, slightly faded, card-sized envelope with a yellow sticky note stuck to it. The sticky note says, I believe this belongs to you! and the words are underlined twice.

  Laura’s knee scooter is next to the kitchen table, and her cordless phone is on the table next to the purple envelope.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and snap photos of the envelope with the sticky note, the knee scooter, the cordless phone, and the mug on the drying rack. They seem important, though right now, I’m not sure why.

  I also snap a photo of the mug and the mail on the table next to Laura, being careful not to get any of Laura in the photo.

  I look back at the knee scooter. Phillip said something about the knee scooter. What was it he said?

  Sophie distracts me. She’s pacing frantically in front of Laura’s chair and lets out a shrill yelp. I walk over, scoop her up, and walk to the front door where I attach her leash. She’s still wearing her sweater and must be warm. And confused. I know I am.

  I carry her back to the kitchen and ask Eric what he needs me to do. He tells me to wait outside and flag down the first responders when they arrive.

  It feels like Sophie and I have only been outside for a few seconds when the first emergency responders show up. Next thing I know, there are emergency responders coming and going from the house. Lots of them. What happened between the first ones showing up and the house suddenly becoming a flurry of uniforms and a hub of activity is a blur.

  A van covered in painted flowers pulls up in front of a neighbour’s house.

  Phillip!

  I forgot Phillip was coming here after his deliveries. Should I have phoned him and sent him back to the store? Too late now. I’ll have to tell him what’s happening.