Owl or Nothing

by Willow Mason

  “Because you scared him off,” Caleb said, raising his head long enough to glare.

  “I’m going.” I stood up and moved for the door. “We can sit around talking all night but the only person able to give us answers is tucked up safely in his mayoral mansion.”

  “Don’t go there yet,” Silvana said, running over to tug at my arm. “You won’t get answers if you walk in there with a head of steam.”

  “What about dinner?” Dee perked up and rubbed her belly. “It’s been ages since I last ate.”

  “There’re scraps of food everywhere,” Silvana said, flicking her fingers at the mouse. “If you haven’t fed, it’s because you’re lazy.”

  “It’s because I have standards. I might look like a mouse, but I’ll have you know my taste buds are still one hundred percent human.”

  “Fine!” I held up my hands. “I’ll order something to eat and we can discuss how to handle the mayor.”

  “Nothing with meat or dairy,” Caleb reminded me as I pulled out my phone.

  “Look, mate.” Silvana wagged her finger in his face. “Just because you don’t like good tasting food doesn’t mean the rest of us should suffer.”

  With a sigh, I said, “I’ll order something from Petit Légume. Given their prices, they’d better be tasty.”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes until Silvana described the restaurant to him. When the maître d’ answered the phone, I walked into another room so he couldn’t see my face while they quoted the bill. Just because I wanted to make it up to him didn’t mean my expression would stay steady while the restaurant gouged my pocketbook.

  Except it never got that far.

  “We don’t deliver food, madam. In fact, we don’t have takeaway services at all.”

  “But…” I stopped, frowning as I tried to remember where I’d seen their logo. “I’ve seen your food in a takeaway container at someone’s house.”

  “Mm? Well, I can assure you the only person who’s ever had our food delivered is our owner. Unless you’re planning to buy him out, the answer will always be no.”

  “We could just go there,” Caleb said when I passed on the bad news.

  “Not without a reservation,” I answered. “And when I asked him for one, he laughed.”

  “Just grab some Chinese.” Silvana moved her face close to Caleb’s. “You eat rice, don’t you?”

  “Not with egg in it, I don’t. How about I order?” He held out his hand for the phone.

  I turned to Dee. “Do you remember the food wrappers at Gabby’s house? Was it there I saw them?”

  She frowned and pulled at her whiskers. “Yeah, but Gabby says she doesn’t eat there because they use peanut oil in their cooking.”

  “Peanuts!” I snapped my fingers. “She was allergic.”

  Dee’s eyes opened wide. “Do you think that’s how she died?”

  I grabbed my phone back, pointing Caleb towards a dusty corner where the old landline sat. “Give me a second. They should have their company director listed somewhere online. If it’s Harold Mulligan, it explains why she’d have the empty containers in her rubbish bin.”

  But the name registered to the restaurant wasn’t Harold. It was Nigel Tomkins.

  Our mayor.

  “There’s so much evidence, the police can’t pretend not to see it,” Dee snapped as I rushed out of the house, hellbent on confronting Beechdale’s mayor. “At least try them.”

  “We can’t go to the police,” Silvana answered with surprising equanimity. “By the time we reach the station, it’ll be after eight o’clock.”

  “As though the mayor won’t realise that,” Dee retorted. “Since he’s the one backing the curfew.”

  “Allegedly,” Caleb said, earning foul glances from all directions.

  “Some good citizen will stop you before you get there,” Dee said, stamping her feet. “Wait until tomorrow morning, then go out.”

  “What does Gabby say?”

  Dee stared at me, her nose twitching. “None of your business.”

  “Exactly. Whatever the mayor is up to, her murder is the centre of everything. Don’t you think she deserves haste?”

  “It won’t do any good if you’re speeding straight to jail.”

  “Can’t you change?”

  I stared at Caleb in confusion, trying to work out the joke.

  “Isn’t that what you said shifters could do now? Change at will?”

  “Yeeeessss,” I drawled. “But I don’t think shoving my animal form in the public’s face will stop them…” I trailed off, realising he was right. The folks in this town wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between me and a real owl. The very part of me they objected to was the perfect cover.

  “Change of plan,” I said, clapping my hands. “Shifters will go in disguise and everyone else stay home, ready to bail us out.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Caleb said, jutting his chin into the air. “I’ve been used as much as anybody and I think I’m owed an explanation.”

  “None of us has any money to speak of,” Silvana added. “So bail’s out of the question. If we get caught after curfew, we’re staying locked up until the police change their minds.”

  Dee’s eyes glowed with excitement, her voice of reason departing as the mission came into sharper focus. “I want to ride on the owl,” she stated, as though anyone else would claim a seat.

  “I’ll catch a taxi there,” Caleb said, heading for the landline. “Am I right that the plan is simply to knock on his door and lob questions at the mayor until he breaks?”

  It sounded flimsy, so I didn’t let my thoughts dwell on it. “Sure.”

  “Do you have a weapon?” Dee asked him. “We’re going equipped with our infected abilities, but you might need to bring something extra along.”

  “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.” Caleb ran his fingers over his swollen face as he spoke, in clear contradiction.

  “There’s a Swiss army knife in the top drawer,” I said. “Although the only part of it we’ve tested is the corkscrew.”

  Russel waved to us from the end of the driveway. “Have the cops left? There’s a few more of us on our way.”

  Dee and Silvana exchanged a glance, and I shrugged. The more the merrier. “We’re leaving for a while, but you’re welcome to come with us.”

  “Or stay here and get some help together in case we need rescuing,” Dee squeaked, bursting into laughter at Russel’s expression. “We’re going on a mayor hunt.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I swooped above the mansion, getting close enough to the upstairs level to see in a window before propelling myself into the sky. Dee gave out a rallying cry from my back as I navigated a three-sixty turn. From my brief inspection, the mansion was empty. No lights showing. Not the tiniest flicker of light from someone peering at a screen.

  With a more careful dive, this time I landed on the upstairs balcony, ensuring Dee was safely off before I transformed and tested the door. It was locked but the window nearby lifted when I shifted enough to dig my toe claws into the sash.

  Ten seconds later, we were inside.

  “I’ll look for a safe or storage box,” Dee announced before scurrying out of the room. The balcony had led us into a sewing room with headless mannequins posing to show off their unfinished garments.

  I didn’t know enough about Mayor Tomkins and his daughter to remember if the mother was still about. If so, I guessed I’d squarely landed in her territory—unless I was being sexist and Nigel liked to relax in the evening, making women’s clothing.

  “Quick,” I whispered to the troops as I opened the downstairs door. “And use the torches on your phones if you need to see more clearly. If we turn on the lights, the neighbours will notice all along the street.”

  The mansion was perched on the high point of a cul-de-sac. A nice vantage point to look down on your neighbours from but it offered the same level of visibility in return.

  Caleb was the first to start, w
alking upstairs in search of a master bedroom. I glanced at Silvana and briefly squeezed her hand. “It’s creepy in the dark.”

  “It’d be a horror show in the daylight, too,” she whispered back. “I mean, look at these empty suits of armour. What’s he expecting? King Arthur’s turning up one day, spoiling for a fight?”

  “And all the portraits.” I hadn’t noticed on my way downstairs, but they adorned every wall. Dead-eyed relatives in stiff poses, casting judgement.

  “Dee’s looking for a safe.”

  “Good call.” Silvana walked around the entrance hall, trailing her fingers over the carved wooden mouldings. “What does that leave us to search for?”

  “Anything else. Look for notebooks or any mobile devices where the mayor might have recorded his plans. I’ll start in the kitchen.”

  “Then I will, too. I’m not shuffling around this mansion by myself all night.”

  The kitchen was far brighter than the entryway, with large windows that caught the light of the waning moon. “Here’s more of those food wrappers you were so interested in,” Silvana said, pointing to the rubbish bin. “I can’t imagine the mayor tucking into a plate of vegetables. He looks more like a steak man to me.”

  I pulled out the half-empty containers as though they’d offer a clue. Apart from demonstrating that broccoli wasn’t anyone’s favourite item on the menu—even when crusted with slivered almonds—there was nothing. Although the wrappers held the restaurant’s logo, they’d not bothered to print out a list of ingredients. Not for their solo takeaway customer.

  “What idiot leaves their phone out?” Silvana asked with a gleeful laugh, holding the device aloft. “And it’s not even password protected.”

  “You’re kidding me.” I peered over her shoulder as she scrolled through the home screen, then clicked into the messages. “Gabby won’t be at work today,” I read out from the last text. “She’s sick.”

  Silvana sounded as baffled as I felt. “Why would the mayor care?”

  “Can I have a closer look?”

  She handed the phone over and I scrolled through the other texts, coming up with one directed to Zelda Tompkins. “I’m free, baby. Wanna celebrate?”

  Not her dad’s phone, then. I kept going, reading messages that had gone back and forth with Gabby. Dee ran downstairs, squeaking excitedly. Silvana met her halfway and carried her the rest, but she was still panting. “The ghost is getting REAL upset.”

  “About the phone?” I waggled it at Dee. “Who sent all these messages to her?”

  “Marshall.”

  I could have slapped myself for being so stupid. Of course, it was Marshall’s phone. The last text was the one he’d sent to Barry on Monday. Except, if his phone was here, he hadn’t.

  “Zelda sent the text.” I went back through the messages, fitting them together with the correct senders and recipients this time. “He’s been cheating on Gabby with Zelda for goodness knows how long. Since they first got together.”

  “I hate that.” Silvana stole the phone back, elbowing me in the ribs when I tried to grab it away. “He strung her along the whole time. If he’d been my fiancé, then pulled this nonsense for months on end, I’d drop him in the centre of a murder inquiry too.”

  “She didn’t just drop Marshall into it.” I frowned at the phone. “Zelda set him up. I wonder if he evens knows his phone’s gone.”

  “It’d take me all of two seconds to notice if someone took mine.” Silvana scrolled to the phone tab. “But you could be right. There’s no missed calls on here, and that’s the first way I’d try to find it.”

  “We have to go to the police now.” Dee jumped up on her hind legs, tugging at the base of my jeans. “Before the mayor destroys any evidence of his daughter’s involvement.”

  “Too late.”

  We all spun around at the words, hearing a shotgun cock a second later.

  Zelda stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Armed and dangerous. She pointed the gun straight at my head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Do you know what I hate worst in the world?” Zelda asked, finger snug on the trigger.

  “Your fiancé dumping you and using your engagement ring to propose to someone else?” Silvana guessed.

  A blast went off just above my shoulder, showering pieces of the wall down upon me. My ear rang, and I flinched down, only just keeping my bladder sealed shut.

  “Apart from smart-mouthed shifters, I hate it when people poke their noses in where they don’t belong.”

  “You’re Gabby’s killer, aren’t you?” Dee ran forward, shaking her little fist in the air. “That means our noses are right where they should be.”

  “You’re lucky I’m a vegan, little mousy. Otherwise, you’d be squashed under my foot.”

  “A vegan who doesn’t mind killing barmaids?” I stepped forward, my arms dropping from their position of surrender. “I’m sure that’s against the guidelines.”

  “Stand back!”

  The barrel drew level with my chest, but I forced a swallow down the desert of my throat and stayed where I was. If my friends could taunt this young woman, so could I. She deserved far worse.

  “Was it the peanut oil?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. If the shotgun went off, there was a slim change the blast might be muted by having to tear its way through my limbs before it reached my heart.

  “That killed Gabby?” Zelda threw back her head and laughed, the sound false and forced in the darkness. “I don’t know. The original autopsy might tell you except…” She mimed flames rising into the sky.

  “What else would it be?” Dee asked. “Did you bore her to death with your smug food choices?”

  “I poured oil into her coffee as well, since I couldn’t be sure she’d eat the takeaways at all.” Zelda’s voice rose half an octave, delivered in a mocking sing-song tone that made me want to claw her face off. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat. Not when I’m sick with worry over leaving.”

  “What were you doing at Gabby’s house, anyway?” I exchanged a quick glance with Silvana as a creak sounded from down the hall. Caleb? In a louder voice, I asked, “Weren’t she and Marshall back on?”

  “He never would’ve married her,” Zelda said, the barrel of the shotgun waving as she gestured with scorn. “Especially not after she pawned the engagement ring.”

  “She what?” Dee gasped, then laughed. “You go, ghost girl!”

  “Is that why she got back together with him?” I asked, chuckling. “To cash in his jewellery? Ooh, that must’ve stung.”

  “No, it didn’t!” Zelda stamped her foot down on the floor. “Marshall was just using her to play with me.”

  “I’m late to this conversation,” Silvana said. “But I’m pretty sure it was the other way around.”

  “He didn’t love her!”

  “Didn’t love you, either, girl. Surely, you can see that?”

  Something worried me. “But Gabby was getting cash together to get out of town. Why d’you need to kill her at all?”

  “Because she deserved it!” Zelda let the shotgun fall to her side as she waved her free arm wildly. “Coming in and ruining our relationship just for jollies. She thought her dad could buy her out of any situation.”

  “Like yours wouldn’t,” Silvana scoffed. “How long after you called him to say you’d murdered Gabby did it take before he’d dragged her up the hill and called in some shifters to do his dirty work? An hour? Two?”

  “I could’ve handled it myself, if I wanted to. That’s the difference between me and Gabby. She was such a lazy oaf, she couldn’t even be bothered to fear me. What does that tell you about her?”

  “That she didn’t care about Marshall, so you weren’t a threat?” Silvana’s dimples threatened to swallow up her entire cheek. “Or she hadn’t even paid enough attention to know you were on the scene at all.”

  “He should have been mine!”

  “He was.” I stepped to one side, jerking my head at Silvana until she nodd
ed and shuffled in the opposite direction. “Until he grew tired of you.”

  “It must sting, I’ll give you that,” Silvana said in a voice oozing with sympathy. “To be second best when Gabby didn’t even love him.”

  “I wasn’t… He didn’t…”

  “Did you think you were back together when they had their fight last week?” I inched a little farther away from Silvana. “Marshall’s neighbour Wilma told us you came scurrying around the moment Gabby stormed out.”

  “Stop moving!” Zelda shifted the shotgun from me to Silvana. “Get next to each other again.”

  “Well, which is it?” Silvana sidled another half-step away. “Do we move or don’t we?”

  “Stop!”

  Just as Zelda roared, Caleb darted into the room and crashed a vase down onto her head. Or nearly. It hit her shoulder, forcing the barrel of the shotgun down.

  As he yelled for us to run, Zelda recovered and slammed the butt of the shotgun back into his stomach. While he doubled over, Silvana fled into the hallway. I stayed where I was, afraid to leave him alone with a murderer.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Zelda said, panting heavily as she recovered enough to raise the business end towards me once more. “Hey!” she called out the door. “If you don’t get back in here on the count of three, I’m blowing off your friend’s head.”

  Although I sent a mental plea Silvana’s way, the footsteps in the corridor told me she hadn’t listened. As she slunk in through the door, Zelda grabbed her arm and shoved her towards me and Caleb.

  “The next person to try some funny business will end up dead.”

  Zelda stared at us with eyes as dead as those of her painted relatives.

  “We’re going on a walk now. Into the mountains. You were all so desperate to find out what happened to Gabby Mulligan? You’re about to discover first-hand.”

  We marched single file along the trail, our hands bound behind us. Every time Silvana tried to slow down the pace, she received a nudge from a shotgun in her back.

  Dee had scarpered while we were in the mansion kitchen. I couldn’t blame her.