Bark Side of the Moon: A Paranormal Animal Cozy Mystery (Spellbound Hound Magic and Mystery Book 3)

by Jeannie Wycherley

  “Try harder!”

  The feet turned, heading back towards Toby. He shuffled backwards in alarm and the feet paused. Toby could only imagine The Pointy Woman’s eyes boring through the wood panel of the door, looking directly at him. His stomach clenched and his throat burned as he willed her to carry on berating Lady Amphitrite and continue with the job in hand.

  As though he’d hexed her, she suddenly turned and headed back the way she’d come. “Is there no correspondence from his time as High Priest here?”

  “I’ve been through all that with a fine-tooth comb, I swear. I gave you a list of all the people Joseph was in contact with over the years, but it’s a long list—”

  “I read the list you gave me. There was no-one on there of any consequence. They all check out clean. I’ve had my people surveilling some of them. We’re missing somebody.”

  “Perhaps Grace Catesby would know?” Lady Amphitrite wheedled. “Is it worth asking her?”

  Toby pricked up his ears and slunk back towards the door. The first mention of Catesby.

  “I have asked her. She knows very little about Joseph Silverwind apart from his obvious connection with the granddaughter.”

  “Perhaps she’s hiding something from you?”

  “Nobody hides anything from me.” The Pointy Woman’s measured tone sounded horribly confident. “I get to the bottom of everything in the end. One way or the other.”

  A silence stretched out on the other side of the door and Toby imagined The Pointy Woman’s black eyes glittering at the coven’s High Priestess.

  “And I enjoy a bit of ‘the other’,” The Pointy Woman said lightly.

  Lady Amphitrite laughed nervously. “Indeed.”

  Toby listened as something heavy was dragged across the floor. For the next few minutes there was nothing but the sound of items being piled on top of each other, books dropped to the stone surface, and pages flapping.

  “Nothing here either,” Lady Amphitrite confessed reluctantly.

  “Keep looking.” The Pointy Woman had resumed pacing. Toby watched her feet go back and forth, back and forth. He could see increasing numbers of books and sheets of paper littering the floor. Soon she wouldn’t have any space left to move. “If I have no luck here, my next port of call will be Mabel Armistead. I swear I’ll tear that old hag limb from limb until I get the information I need.”

  Mad Mabel? Toby swallowed. He had to get back to Clarissa. They would need to warn Mabel.

  Lady Amphitrite cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How long do I have to hide her?”

  “Hide who?” The Pointy Woman sounded distracted. “Mabel?”

  “Catesby. You know, it’s just… I fear if anyone comes looking for her and finds her with me—”

  “Hold your tongue!”

  “It won’t look good. For me or the Coven,” Lady Amphitrite tried to explain. Perhaps she imagined that she had some leverage thanks to the high position she held.

  The Pointy Woman obviously thought otherwise. “Hold. Your. Tongue.”

  “But—”

  A bright light flared in the room, so dazzling that it blinded Toby when it flashed beneath the door. A high-pitched squeal of pain shut off as quickly as it began.

  Silence. Toby blinked hurriedly to clear his vision.

  From inside the room came a hiss, an expulsion of air, followed by a crumping sound as something heavy smacked the floor.

  “I really don’t give a flying fig whether it looks good for you or your rotten coven,” The Pointy Woman said, in a virtually conversational tone. “Anyway. It’s a bit late now.”

  Silence.

  The Pointy Woman sighed. “What did you make me do?” she tutted. “Oh, I’m so weary. I can’t keep going on like this. Perhaps it’s time to put an end to it all once and for all.”

  Her shoes swivelled, and momentarily she wobbled. Toby thought she would fall. If she did, perhaps she’d catch him spying on her through the gap beneath the door. She took a step forwards, heading for him. Was she on her way back upstairs?

  Toby caught his breath and scuttled backwards, not an easy manoeuvre for a dog, then twisted quickly, seeking somewhere to hide. The sound of clicking followed him as The Pointy Woman covered the ground to the door. He desperately sought a hiding place. The two other doors in the basement were closed. He’d be able to open them, but he might be heard. A pile of boxes at the end of the short corridor, at the opposite end to the stone staircase, seemed to be his only option.

  He made a dash for the boxes as the door to the library was thrown open. Almost there, he slipped sideways and valiantly tried to squeeze into the space available but without much luck. He froze, virtually all of him out in the open.

  He heard rather than saw The Pointy Woman totter out of the library. She groaned loudly.

  Toby waited for bright light and a spark of pain as she spotted him…

  … but it never came.

  Cautiously, he inched his head free from where he’d wedged it behind the boxes. The Pointy Woman rested one arm against the wall, her black leather handbag slung around her wrist, the other hand covering her eyes. She massaged her temples for a moment then removed her hand, staring straight down the short corridor at him.

  She didn’t react.

  She must see me, Toby thought. How can she not?

  He didn’t dare to move a whisker, but stared back at her, unblinking. Her face had taken on the colour of spoiled milk, her eyes were red-rimmed, dark shadows beneath them. A vein, pronounced on the right-hand side of her forehead, pulsed visibly.

  Grotesque.

  But she didn’t react.

  He winked and twitched an ear. Partly from nerves, partly because he wanted to test her.

  She moaned again and reached into her handbag. Her movements were slow, sluggish even. Toby waited to see what she would remove from her bag, imagining it to be her wand or some such, but instead she drew out a pair of dark sunglasses and slid them up her nose.

  Without looking his way again, she hobbled shakily to the foot of the stairs and began to climb, clinging onto the railing for dear life. Toby observed her as she ascended, pattering quietly along the corridor so that he could keep an eye on her as she disappeared from his view. It seemed to him as though the banister prevented her from falling, and every step left her weaker.

  He halted in front of the library door, watching carefully as first one stilettoed foot and then the next completely vanished from his eyeline.

  He waited.

  She didn’t come back.

  But what of Lady Amphitrite? The library door stood ajar and he would have to cross in front of it in order to make his own way upstairs. He didn’t want her to spot him, either. He sniffed at the edge of the door.

  A tang of metal. Something not right. Dark magick.

  I smell death.

  He inched his head forwards, using the door as a shield for the bulk of his body until he could twist at the neck and peek inside the room.

  He recoiled instantly.

  Lady Amphitrite lay on the floor among the scattered paper and books, one hand flung out towards him, imploring somebody to help her, the other lying limp on her chest. Her eyes were open but didn’t so much as glitter under the harsh fluorescent lights.

  It was her mouth that scared Toby the most.

  Because where it should have been, there wasn’t one.

  Speak to none but me?

  Lady Amphitrite would speak to no-one ever again.

  Toby climbed the last of the stairs, his head in a whirl. Time was of the essence. He had to get back to Clarissa and they needed to warn Mabel that The Pointy Woman posed a threat to her and Merrybutton. He moved as quickly as possible, not really sure it mattered if he was seen now.

  Head down and aim for the front door.

  “Well, well! Fancy seeing you again.”

  Toby nearly jumped out of his skin; he whirled around, his lips curled and his snout wrinkled, ready to fight to the de
ath.

  “Oooh. Scary.” Two bright green eyes stared out at him from the dark corner next to the staircase where he had been hiding not that long ago.

  The eyes blinked and moved towards him.

  Juniper.

  And she didn’t sound remotely frightened.

  “Toby, isn’t it?” she asked as she came into view, her sleek black fur glistening with health, her tail high and curled into an elegant question mark.

  “Y-yes,” he stuttered.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you and your human were banned?”

  “We are. Well, Clarissa is. I wasn’t explicitly banned from entering…” He attempted to make light of it and shifted his weight, trying to slip backwards towards the front door without being too obvious about it.

  “It’s all the same.” Juniper glanced down the stairs. “What have you been doing down there?”

  Toby’s heart began to beat loudly in his chest. He didn’t know Juniper well enough to trust her. She might sound the alarm at any second. He hesitated and Juniper, watching his face closely, frowned.

  “What’s happened?” she asked, but her voice had dropped to little more than a low murmur. “Do you need help? Should I summon my human, Geetha?”

  One of the Elders, Toby remembered. But whose side would she take?

  “No,” he replied hurriedly.

  “Does this have something to do with Lady Amphitrite and her—” Juniper frowned, “—guest?” Her face twisted as though she’d eaten something sour.

  “Why do you say it like that?” Toby whispered.

  “She’s unpleasant, that woman. Whenever she comes here, she makes people afraid. Good witches are afraid of her. Everyone is afraid. They take their leave as quickly as possible. Geetha rushes me away. She warns me to stay out of that woman’s way.”

  “The Pointy Woman?” Toby asked, then remembered to use her given name. He uttered it in the quietest voice he could manage, as though saying it aloud somehow cast a spell that made her appear. “Miranda Dervish?”

  Juniper nodded, her lip still curled. “That’s the one.”

  “She… I…” Toby swallowed and jerked his head at the stairs, hardly wishing to remember what it was he’d left down there. “I followed them downstairs. They were in the library. Lady Amphitrite is dead.”

  Juniper started. “Lady Amphitrite is dead?”

  “Ssshh!” Toby hushed her.

  “Really dead?”

  “Really dead.” Toby shuddered.

  “Wow.” Juniper bobbed her head. “Did you kill her?”

  “What? No!” Toby stared at her in horror. “I wouldn’t do something like that. It was her. The Pointy Woman. She did it.”

  “Oh,” Juniper shrugged. “Well, it’s good news nonetheless.”

  “It is?” Toby stared at the cat, completely nonplussed. In what universe could murder ever be considered good news?

  “Thoroughly unpleasant, that Lady Amphitrite,” Juniper confirmed. “But worse than that, Geetha told me she is—was—weak and easy to manipulate. She should never have become High Priestess here. Why did this pointy woman kill her?”

  “It’s complicated,” admitted Toby. “I think maybe Lady Amphitrite is holding someone prisoner. Someone that my hooman wants to find. Lady Amphitrite indicated she didn’t like doing that. And wham! That was kind of it. Lights out for Lady Amphitrite.”

  “Where is she hiding this person?” Juniper asked, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t know,” Toby said, hopping in place, impatient to be going. “If not here—”

  Juniper frowned. “The very idea. I’m sure we’d know about it if she was holding someone prisoner here in Temperance House. Besides, holding a witch against her will, and killing another witch, those are crimes punishable by death in any court governed by the Ministry of Witches.”

  Toby nodded, his face crestfallen. He felt certain The Pointy Woman wouldn’t care about such things. She’d already killed Old Joe after all, and no doubt there were others.

  “Maybe you could do me a favour and let people know about… it?” Toby indicated the stairs again. “I really have to go. The Pointy Woman is going after one of my favourite people.”

  Toby backed away, pleading with Juniper with his eyes to let him leave. “Who?” Juniper asked, her eyes glinting with concern. “Can I help?”

  “I don’t know if I should—”

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense. If I can help, I’m happy to!”

  “Her name’s Mabel. She lives in Beer.”

  “Ah!” Juniper’s face lit up. “Mabel Armistead? Merrybutton is her familiar?”

  “That’s right. You know her?” Small world, thought Toby.

  “Do I ever! Merrybutton is my mother!”

  Toby couldn’t quite believe his ears. “Really?”

  “Indeedy! Leave it to me. I’ll get on the Catvine straight away. The message will reach her in one shake of a lamb’s tail.”

  “Thank you so much.” Toby’s relief was immeasurable, but now he needed to get back to Clarissa and together they had to find Catesby.

  “Regarding Lady Amphitrite’s prisoner?” Juniper halted Toby in his tracks once more.

  Had she read his mind? “Yes?”

  “I’d search her home,” Juniper suggested.

  Toby hesitated. “You don’t happen to know where she lives, do you?”

  “I do. Geetha and I visited once. She rents the gamekeeper’s cottage at Hawkerne Hall.”

  Hawkerne Hall hid its once-grand façade away behind tall roll-topped fences and barbed wire. Rumour had it that a property company had bought the land and intended to build a luxury retirement complex here once the hall itself had been demolished. Certainly, the views out over Lyme Bay would encourage many a pensioner to part with a large wad of their savings, probably to the detriment of their heirs.

  The same company leased the Hall’s labourers’ cottages out for periods ranging from six months to six years, and a cheerful array of well-presented cottages they were for the most part. Mostly small, two-up, two-down, they didn’t hold much appeal for families, but by the look of those occupants working or sunning themselves in their gardens, they were perfect for more mature couples.

  Clarissa, trying to reconcile the numbers on gates or names of cottages with the map she’d printed off at home, nodded at one or two people who caught her eye.

  “This is so confusing,” she moaned. “Is one of these cottages called The Gamekeeper’s Cottage or is there an actual gamekeeper’s cottage?”

  Toby didn’t have a clue. He’d relayed Juniper’s information back to Clarissa faithfully and eventually, after repeating his story several times, Clarissa had believed all he’d told her.

  She’d seemed quite shaken by Lady Amphitrite’s death, and Toby understood that secretly, Clarissa feared that the pair of them were no match for the mighty magick of The Pointy Woman.

  But then Clarissa hadn’t seen the weak and wobbly state of Miranda Dervish in the moments after she had dispatched Lady Amphitrite. Toby had, and it gave him pause. Was it his imagination or had a chink in The Pointy Woman’s armour appeared?

  He squirrelled the information away for now, intending to arm himself with it when the time came.

  They reached the end of the row of cottages and Clarissa frowned and mopped her brow. Evening was fast approaching, and the sky had begun to cloud over. Perhaps the weather would break. They could do with some rain.

  “I do hope Mabel is alright,” Clarissa was saying.

  “I trust Juniper,” Toby replied, remembering the cat’s delight at the news of Lady Amphitrite’s demise. “She’ll make sure Mabel and Merrybutton are safe.”

  “What will they do, though?” Clarissa asked. “She’s such an old lady. Well… they both are. They can’t travel very far.”

  “Perhaps they won’t travel at all?” Toby suggested. “Maybe they’ll just hide out.”

  Clarissa swallowed audibly. “I’d be terrified, knowing tha
t woman was coming for me.”

  Me too, Toby thought but didn’t say.

  In the distance, out to sea, a rumble of thunder crackled through the air. Dark clouds drifted ominously across the horizon.

  “We’ll have a storm later.” A gentleman dressed in a mucky polo shirt and a pair of faded cut-off jeans leaned against his gate and smiled at them. “That’ll cool things down a bit, and welcome, I reckon.”

  “Very welcome,” Clarissa agreed.

  “Good for the gardens at any rate. We could do with a drop of rain.” He nodded at the map in Clarissa’s hand. “Are you lost?”

  Clarissa seized the opportunity to ask the man for assistance. “We’re looking for the gamekeeper’s cottage. I wasn’t sure if that was the name of one of these houses or not.”

  “Oh, I see,” the man replied. “No. No. Not one of these, my love.” He sucked in a breath and thought some more. “I’m thinking the gamekeeper’s cottage is a house set by itself opposite the little cemetery.”

  Clarissa raised her eyebrows. There was a cemetery up here? “Cemetery?”

  “Yes.” The man pointed further down the path they’d been following. “Not even a cemetery really. I think there used to be a chapel attached to the house but that probably went to ruin a long time ago. Are you friends with that punky woman who lives there, then?”

  He had to mean Lady Amphitrite. “Erm… kind of,” said Clarissa.

  “Back in the early eighties one of my daughters liked to dress up like that Susie Sue person. Susie and the Banned Cheese, wasn’t it?” Clarissa wasn’t entirely sure who the man meant but she nodded politely. Toby looked on in confusion.

  “She’s a banker now. Works for a big firm based in Munich. If you ever need some advice about stocks and shares, she’s your woman. Done alright out of it, at any rate.”

  “That’s nice,” Clarissa replied, anxious to be going. She pointed at the path. “If I follow this…?”

  “Oh yes. If you follow this path it turns right and becomes little more than a track. It’s the road that runs around the outside of the estate. You’ll see.” The man hummed for a second. “I reckon it’s just over a quarter of a mile up there, certainly not more than half a mile.”