With Sophie in the kitchen making dinner, I decided to text Jason.
Hey, I think I have a sprained wrist, but it might be broken. Can you come get me and take me to the medical clinic? I hoped there wouldn’t be too many questions straight away, I figured it would be easier to explain in person.
Yeah, I’ll be there in five. You ok?
I’m fine, I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. Thanks!
I told Sophie and Charlotte where I was going, then made sure the birds were comfortable. Grabbing my purse, I headed out the front where Jason was already waiting for me. I climbed into his car and saw his gaze immediately drawn to my right wrist.
“Wow, that’s a doozy,” he said, his eyebrows rising. “Do I want to know how this happened?”
“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway,” I replied. I’d texted Jason that morning to let him know we were going to Tony Fanchini’s office, and then to Sisters. By the time I’d recounted the whole story of my day–getting a little bit creative to hide the fact that I’d used magic to get onto the property, and about how I got the information about the animals–we’d driven to the hospital, I’d presented myself to the nurse on duty, and we were sitting in the waiting room for a doctor to call me in. I didn’t imagine it would be a huge wait; Willow Bay’s “hospital” was basically just a small emergency room that was mainly used by people who sprained their ankles or broke their legs while hiking or biking the trails around here. Anyone with anything more serious would go to the real hospital in Portland.
“Wow,” Jason said, shaking his head when I’d finished. “And here I was thinking you probably wouldn’t get into that much trouble today.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly expecting to be shot at today,” I admitted. “That one was kind of unexpected.”
“I’m really glad the worst thing you’ve got is a possibly broken wrist. Are you going to be able to work with it?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I might have to get a bit creative, and Sophie may have to work harder than ever, but there’s no way I can leave Willow Bay without a vet right now.”
Just then my name was called over the intercom as I was told to report to the nurses’ station. Jason stood up and followed me as I made my way down the hall, and did as requested. The nurse got me to fill out another form–which Jason did for me, since my right hand hurt too much–and led me to a bed about ten feet away. “The doctor will be with you shortly,” she said with a smile.
Five minutes later the doctor walked in, took one look at my wrist and said he’d get me an X-ray straight away. The technician came in three minutes later and took me to the dark room where I got my wrist X-rayed at three different angles, then I was taken back to the bed to hang out with Jason until the doctor returned.
“All right, well, looking at the X-rays nothing is broken, it seems to just be a sprain,” the doctor said. “Continue with the RICE treatment–rest, ice, compression, elevation–and it should return to normal in a couple of weeks.”
I thanked the doctor and Jason and I left. As we were sitting there I suddenly remembered the threatening note that I’d found in Matt Smith’s apartment. “Hey, have a look at this,” I told Jason, pulling out my phone and showing him the picture. “I found this in Matt Smith’s trash, his roommate said he’d been getting mailed threats like that for a few days.”
Jason took the phone from me and looked at the picture for a few minutes. He zoomed in on it, then zoomed out a few times. When he finally handed the phone back to me, he looked perplexed. “It’s definitely a threat, but I can’t tell anything about it.”
“Shoot, I was hoping you might have better luck than me,” I said. “I looked at it, but came to the same conclusion. There’s nothing about it that can tell us anything about who wrote it. I didn’t find an envelope or anything, either. And obviously I didn’t take it, since I didn’t think the police had searched the home yet and I didn’t want to remove potential evidence.”
Jason nodded. “You did the right thing, for sure.”
“Still,” I said, frowning as I looked at the note, “There’s something about it that’s familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Well, unless you figure out who wrote it, we have another suspect who doesn’t even have a name.”
“That’s ok though, because I think we can cross Tony Fanchini off the list of suspects, and if we run out of them, well there’s only us left.”
“That’s a good point,” Jason grinned.
“Speaking of the suspects, do you think you’ll be able to look into the criminal case Smith was involved in in Washington?” I asked.
“Sure, I can do that,” Jason nodded. “I’ve gotten most of the articles for this week finished, I just need to put the finishing touches on another, so I can spend most of tomorrow on it. I’ll let you know what I find out tomorrow night. Plus, I’m pretty sure if you tried to investigate it somehow you would end up arrested, given the kind of luck you’ve had investigating this case.”
Since I couldn’t really argue with that, I just stuck my tongue out at him, then leaned my head against Jason’s shoulder as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove me home.
Chapter 14
By the time Jason dropped me off at home, with a quick pit-stop to the pharmacy to grab a compression wrap for my wrist–I was completely and totally exhausted. I moved the three birds to the back stables, promising them that I would be back in the morning, but that I didn’t want them to be exposed to the predators we had here on the coast. They weren’t used to avoiding them, and it was too dangerous for them to fly free at night.
I made my way to my room, expecting to be able to just fall into my bed and sleep. Instead, I found an angry Bee, surrounded by the Bee-hive, all of whom were giving me death glares. I supposed they weren’t happy with their living arrangements for the evening.
“Not now Bee, please. I’m exhausted,” I begged as I changed into my pajamas.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are my feelings inconvenient for you? I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, my entire existence seems to have become inconvenient for you. Or, our entire existences, I should say. We’ve been trapped here for hours.
I sighed. “I’m sorry Bee. You have the run of the house again. But I had three birds in here earlier. They were smuggled to this country, and I needed to get information from them to help get the giraffe out back home. Because the kittens are so young, I didn’t know how they’d react to three birds in the house, so I put you in here for a few hours.”
“This is my home!”
“They saved my life, Bee. I had to take care of them.”
“I saved your life! Twice, if I remember right.”
“You did, and I thank you for that.”
“And you still let the dog come and live in here.”
“Yes, Sprinkles is Sophie’s dog. If she lives here, so does he. Anyway, we’re not talking about Sprinkles. I’m sorry I kept you in here for a few hours. But I swear, you can have the run of the house now. I’m going to bed.”
“Oh yes, of course. Sleep well,” Bee muttered, and I couldn’t help but detect a little bit of mischief in those words. Still, I was much too tired to really care about what Bee had planned at that point, and I just climbed into bed and went to sleep.
Unfortunately, my sleep was restless. Between the cats deciding to play zoomies down the hallway all night, and nightmares about being shot at in a car, I found myself tossing and turning and constantly waking up. At one point I was pretty sure one of the kittens began kneading my face, but I only had a vague, groggy memory of it, and it might have simply been a dream.
What I did know was that when my alarm went off the next morning I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink. I groaned and jabbed at the snooze button, and a sharp pain radiated through my arm as I remembered my injury from the day before. Great. Today was not starting off wonderfully.
I forced myself out of bed and found Bee patiently sitting on the coun
ter above her food bowl. “Why hello there, Angela. What a beautiful day it is today, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s just lovely,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at her. I wasn’t going to let Bee know that she had won and succeeded in ruining my sleep; the knowledge of her victory would only make her stronger.
“How did you sleep?” she asked.
“Fine,” I replied as I opened up some food and poured it into her bowl. The kittens were probably about a week away from being able to start eating solids themselves. “How about you?”
“Oh, I slept pretty well. The kittens had a bit of fun early this morning, I’m surprised you didn’t hear them.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t. I slept like a baby,” I replied with a smile as Bee began to eat her breakfast. “Now, I have to get to work. Are you and the kittens going to behave today?”
“No promises,” Bee grumbled, and I hid a smile. I figured my fake cheery attitude was getting to her. I made my way to the vet clinic with Sophie, who went out and got coffees for the two of us while I got settled and ready for the day. My first appointment was with a dog I knew well, Koby, a black lab who was about six years old. Luckily it was a slow day; I had a few appointment slots that hadn’t been filled yet.
“Here,” Sophie told me, handing me the coffee when she got back. “I asked Betty to make it a double shot for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, shooting my best friend a thankful look. “Did the cats keep you up all night too?”
“Not too badly. I heard them zooming around the hallway at one point, but that was it. I think you got it a lot worse.”
I groaned. “Your brain accepts adventure so much better than mine. I spent all of last night having nightmares about shotguns and car chases, and here you are acting like absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened.
Sophie grinned. “It’s because when we were kids you were always too scared to do anything fun with me.”
“I still don’t think going on the biggest roller coaster at Six Flags would be that fun.”
“See? That’s why you get scared, you didn’t train your body to be scared enough when you were a kid.”
“I’m pretty sure most reputable psychologists would tell you that’s not how the brain works,” I said, closing my eyes and savoring the sweet, sweet taste of caffeine on my tongue. Ok, I was well aware that coffee actually had quite a bitter taste. But just then, it was like nectar of the gods to me. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through today without copious amounts of caffeine.
Thirty minutes later Karen was at her desk and Sophie was helping me with Koby the lab, who was extremely excited about getting to stand on the table.
“He’s not allowed on the table at home, obviously, so I guess he likes to get it all out of his system here,” his owner Kara told me with a smile. Tall, blonde and athletic, Kara was dressed from head-to-toe in workout gear and looked like she planned on going for a hike straight after this visit.
“Well that’s all right, you’re absolutely allowed on the table here,” I told Koby, whose tail wagged even faster as I spoke to him.
“It’s so exciting! Everything is so high from up here! Is this what humans see?” he asked, obviously having a ball. I smiled at the little cutie.
“So what seems to be the problem today?” I asked. “He’s not due for his shots for another four months.”
“No, but I think he might have a bit of an ear infection, or something like that.”
“Ok,” I nodded, looking at his ears. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, he’s been tilting his head a lot more than usual, and shaking himself a lot. Plus it kind of smells funky down there right now.”
I took a whiff and quickly moved my head back. “Yeah, you’re not kidding,” I said, and Kara laughed.
“Sorry.”
I waved off her apology and looked at Koby. “Hey little guy? Is your ear feeling a bit painful lately?”
“You know, now that you mention it, it has!” Koby replied. “Yes, it has been feeling uncomfortable, and sometimes it hurts.”
“Good boy,” I said, giving his body a good pet. “Now, let’s have a look at you.”
A quick physical exam proved that yes, Koby did in fact have an ear infection. Fifteen minutes later Kara and Koby were out the door, the former with a bottle of antibiotics, the latter with so much energy I imagined he was going to need to go on at least a three hour hike before he’d be even remotely tired out.
“That little dog’s a cutie, hey?” Sophie asked with a smile as we watched them leave.
“He is, for sure. So much energy for a dog who’s well into adulthood.”
“How was your wrist during that?” Sophie asked.
“Better than I expected it to be, actually,” I replied. I opened and closed my hand a few times and felt no pain. “I don’t think it’s as bad as it seemed yesterday.”
“Good,” Sophie said. “The sooner you get your magic abilities back, the better.”
“They probably would have come in pretty handy yesterday,” I admitted. “Still, I’m hopeful.”
Before we had a chance to keep talking, our next appointment of the day walked in, a cat named Sequins.
Three hours later we finally got a break, and I felt like I was going to pass out. What had started as a slow day on the schedule turned out to be pretty hectic: on top of the regular scheduled appointments we had one emergency allergic reaction, who was given a Benadryl and looked over for a couple of hours, a broken leg from an elderly dog who was a little bit too enthusiastic about jumping off his owners’ bed that morning, and one lab who had gotten into something he shouldn’t have and needed his stomach pumped.
By the time twelve thirty rolled around I had already missed the first half hour of my lunch break, but at least there was a break–a real break this time–in appointments and I didn’t need to be back at the clinic for an hour, barring some kind of other emergency.
“Do you want me to go get you another coffee and some lunch?” Sophie asked, and I shook my head.
“Thanks, but I think I need to get out of here. If I don’t stretch my legs or something I’m going to pass out,” I said with a smile.
“Cool. I have to run to the bank, I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Chapter 15
Sophie and I went our separate ways down the street as I made my way toward Betty’s. I didn’t even care about getting anything to eat right now; all I wanted was some more caffeine. If Betty could just hook an IV directly between me and her coffee machine, right now I would be all for that.
I walked down Main Street like a zombie. Luckily, I was a zombie that still made my way along the sidewalk instead of wandering into the street, and by the time I reached Betty’s, the fresh air–and the promise of imminent caffeine consumption–made me feel a little bit better.
I passed the A-frame sign out the front which today was advertising chocolate pecan cheesecake slices for only $3 each, when suddenly I stopped.
The sign. That was where I’d seen the writing before. I pulled out my phone, just to be sure I wasn’t being completely paranoid, and opened it up to the photo I’d taken a couple of days earlier from inside Matt Smith’s home. Sure enough, the writing on the threatening letter was identical to the writing on the A-frame board. Whoever wrote this had to be the person who wrote the threat.
I knew it wasn’t Betty; I could bet my own life she would never write a threatening letter to anyone. Entering the café, I was relieved to see that the lunch rush was ending–it was rarely ever that big on a random Tuesday after tourist season anyway–and that there were only a couple of tables that were filled with patrons.
“Hi, Angela,” Betty said to me with a smile from behind the coffee machine. “I heard you had a pretty rough night last night.”
I grinned. “Is it a sign you’re getting old when a rough night means you had a few bad dreams and your cats kept you up?”
Betty laughed. “I don
’t think the cause really matters when you feel the same way as if you’d drank a twelve-pack of beer.”
“You got that right,” I told her. “Can I have another double shot latte? Maybe make it vanilla this time? And a BLT, please.”
“Coming right up,” Betty said, and I settled myself in on one of the stools at the counter, eyeing the chocolate pecan cheesecake gluttonously. It was only three dollars today, after all. That reminded me of what I had to do while I was here; now that I knew I couldn’t ignore it. When Betty brought over my latter, I motioned for her to wait.
“Can you have a look at this?” I asked, and then lowered my voice. “It’s a threat that Matt Smith had sent to his home just a few days before he died.”
I showed her the picture, and Betty’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Oh no,” she said softly.
“I didn’t realize where it had come from until I walked past the sign today,” I said.
“We need to go speak with him,” Betty said, motioning to the kitchen. “But be gentle. I think there’s probably an explanation here that doesn’t end with Carson being the murderer.”
I nodded and followed Betty into the back area of the café. Funnily enough, I’d never actually been in the back part of the café, but right now I didn’t focus on the mounds of baking equipment everywhere; I was focused on the shy, skinny teenager carefully pouring icing sugar into a huge bowl that was already filled with cream cheese.
“Excuse me, Carson?” Betty asked, and the teenager looked up expectantly.
“Yes, Mrs. MacMahon?”
“Could you come over here for a minute please? We have something we need to show you.”
“Ok, give me one second, I just need to finish this measurement so I don’t mess it up,” he said, carefully pouring out the right amount of icing sugar before getting up and coming over to where we were, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. “What can I do for you?” he asked, his eyes passing from Betty to mine, confusion written all over them. I opened the picture showing the threatening letter, and showed it to him.
Sleeping with the Fishes (A Paranormal Cozy Mystery) (Willow Bay Witches Book 6) Page 9
