Pawsibly Murdered

by Harper Lin

  “What?” My eyes were wide.

  “He said they scared him. He wouldn’t tell me what was in them.”

  “Maybe he’ll tell me. Get him on the phone. I’ll ask,” I said. “Tell him I’m not afraid to rough up a cop.”

  “Calm yourself, Cath.” Aunt Astrid patted my shoulder. “Will he tell me?”

  “I don’t know. But he said that since the books and other pieces of evidence came into the station, he’s noticed something weird happening.”

  “Weird like lights blinking on and off or weird like people levitating and spinning their heads all the way around?” I asked.

  “Weird like this brown substance keeps showing up in the evidence room around the books and other things they collected,” Bea said. “I stayed up last night putting a protection spell on Jake. I’m confident it will hold. Peanut Butter was a great help. But Blake is out there. You know how skeptical he can be.”

  “We can’t worry about that right now,” Aunt Astrid said. “Blake is a grown man, and he doesn’t take unnecessary risks. So far, nothing is hurting anyone. So I think what we need to do is go back to Niles’s house.”

  “What will that do?” I frowned.

  “Maybe nothing. But maybe I can get a past impression of some of the things that had been going on in that house that might point us in the right direction.”

  “When are we executing this caper?” I looked at Bea, who was yawning. “That one won’t be any good to us in the state she’s in. I’m going to have to have a talk with Jake and tell him to quit keeping you up all night. You aren’t honeymooners anymore.”

  “Very funny.” Bea yawned again.

  6

  Pink Aura

  Since the foot traffic was so slow, Aunt Astrid and I sent Bea home to get some rest. As the afternoon changed from bright blue to a subdued purple, one of Aunt Astrid’s regular customers came in for a tarot reading. Her name was Beverly Connors. She was a very pleasant woman who Bea said had the calmest, most tranquil pink aura she’d ever seen. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but according to Bea, it was a good thing.

  “Hi, Bev,” I said as she came in carrying her giant leather purse that she always had with her. It was stuffed to maximum capacity—with what, I couldn’t say. If anyone were to ever push her in a body of water, I knew that purse would sink her to the bottom faster than rocks in her pockets. “Aunt Astrid is in the back.”

  I jerked my thumb toward the back of the café, where my aunt had her table and tarot cards set up. I heard the two women greet each other and have a little friendly chitchat before a hush fell over them. Aunt Astrid barely spoke above a whisper when she gave her readings. Privacy was as important to her clients as it was to her.

  I served a couple of teas and coffees, and much to my utter disappointment, I served Kevin’s last double-chocolate cupcake that I had been going to take home with me if no one bought it. There were still three lemon poppy cupcakes with lemon frosting on them. It wasn’t my first choice, but they had frosting. I’d be taking them home instead.

  “Hi, Cath. Let me have those three lemon cupcakes to go,” Beverly said when she emerged from the back.

  “Of course.” I smiled as I said farewell to the tasty little morsels.

  “Your aunt is just the sweetest thing,” she said. “Do you know that I don’t think she’s ever been wrong about my future since I started coming to her. She’s just a wonderful gift.”

  “Oh, I’ll be sure to tell her you said so.” I handed Beverly her change and the box of cupcakes. “I can’t help but agree with you one hundred percent.”

  “Have a good night.” She hoisted her purse over her shoulder and left the café in a tinkling of chimes.

  The last two coffee drinkers left as well, and I flipped over the Open sign and locked the front door behind them.

  “A little good luck came our way with Beverly Connors,” my aunt said when she emerged from the back.

  “Oh yeah? Tell me,” I said as I started to move the tables to start the sweeping.

  Since she was a fan of tarot readings, Beverly admitted to Aunt Astrid that she had, once upon a time, gone to Niles Freudenfur. She said that he insisted all the readings be done in his house, and there was a rather large sitting fee.

  “How large?” my aunt had asked her.

  “Well, he gave me a discount the first time, so it cost under fifty. But anything after that and anything that went over a certain period of time would run almost two hundred dollars,” Beverly said with a frown. “But I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. You get what you pay for, right? Sometimes you have to spend money to save money.”

  “I understand,” my aunt admitted. The last thing my aunt wanted was for Beverly to feel uncomfortable.

  “So I get to his house, and I see where all the money goes. He’s got enough incense floating around you can barely breathe. There were lots of candles and some New Age music in the background. But it didn’t go with the spooky atmosphere. It was like a mishmash of corny stereotypes. He also had another person sit in with us.”

  “Really?” Aunt Astrid was shocked.

  “This young man, dressed very neatly with short red hair sat in on my reading. Now, I’m no prude, but this is my first experience with this reader. I’m not sure what he’s going to see. How do I know this young man isn’t part of some scam?”

  “Do you happen to know the man’s name?” Aunt Astrid asked, crossing her fingers under the table.

  “Patrick. Patrick Fouts. I remember because Niles spoke more to Patrick than he did to me. I think there was a little something going on between them. Normally, I wouldn’t care. However, this was on my dime, and a lot of time was being wasted while these two played footsie under the table.”

  Beverly scooted in her seat.

  “They didn’t really play footsie, but you know what I mean. As I was saying, by the time Niles finished telling me his credentials, a move that I think was more to impress this young man than me, I had had it.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told him that I needed him to get on with it or that I’d have to reschedule, and I wasn’t paying for this visit of just sitting here.”

  “And what did he do?”

  My aunt was shocked by Niles’s strange behavior. She had known him to be eccentric. We all knew that. But this sounded more narcissistic than anything else.

  “He finally shuffled the tarot cards and gave me a reading that took about five minutes.” Beverly folded her hands in front of her. “This may sound crazy, but his reading was spot on. The problem was all the stuff I mentioned. I didn’t want a stranger in the room, listening. I certainly didn’t need all the visual effects. And well, Astrid, I enjoy coming here. I trust you. Your daughter and your niece are beautiful girls and so friendly. I could probably do without the cupcakes, but they are so delicious.” Beverly laughed. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

  “Do you know of anyone else who saw Niles on a regular basis?” Aunt Astrid asked.

  “Unfortunately, my neighbor Dolores Eversol.” Beverly leaned in. “She’s a bit of a handful, if you ask me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Very high-maintenance. Her husband is a lawyer and out of town a lot. She has a blank check for anything and everything she wants to do. Straight from the horse, I know she doesn’t make any decisions without consulting Niles first.” Beverly had rolled her eyes. “The poor thing probably doesn’t know if she should wipe her nose or her aaa… pardon me. I’m getting too worked up.”

  “So we struck gold with Beverly Connors stopping by,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Patrick Fouts and Dolores Eversol. Which one do you want?”

  “Hold your horses. We need to have a meeting of the Greenstones before we go diving into all this.” My aunt knew I didn’t like waiting.

  “Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” I nodded.

  “Cath. I mean it.”

  “What? When have I ever made you wo
rry?”

  “Do you want a list?”

  It wasn’t that I intentionally wanted to upset my aunt. But to me, there was no time like the present. I looked in the phone book, and as clear as day, there was one listing for Eversol. That wasn’t exactly a common name, and the address was just a hop, a skip, and a jump from the Mariano’s grocery store. I liked that grocery store, and as luck would have it I was out of milk. I had been out of milk for almost two weeks, but I decided that tonight, at nine o’clock, I needed to go get some milk.

  Before I hopped in my car, a familiar dark shadow came skulking around the side of the house.

  “Where are you going?” Treacle asked. He sat at the front door, waiting for me to open it back up for him. He could easily get in through the kitchen window that was cracked for him to get in and out, but like me, he was nosy.

  “I’ve got a lead on a possible suspect.”

  “You’re going alone?”

  “Why? Would you like to come with me?”

  “Sure.” He licked his paw then looked up at me.

  As if he had all the time in the world, Treacle slunk toward the car and hopped in. Within a few minutes, he was current on what I’d learned from Beverly.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to go to this stranger’s home at this hour?”

  “It’s not that late,” I said. But Treacle had a point. I didn’t know how receptive I’d be to someone knocking on my door at that hour to ask about a friend who just died.

  “I’ve got an idea. She’ll be none the wiser.”

  “I’m intrigued. Do tell.”

  7

  Kindred Spirits

  “Treacle! Treacle!” I shouted as loud as I could underneath Dolores Eversol’s porch. “Treacle! Here kitty, kitty!”

  Just as we planned, within a few minutes of shouting and stomping around, Dolores came to the door.

  “Can I help you?” She looked down her nose at me from behind her locked screen door.

  “I’m so sorry,” I blubbered. “My cat, Treacle, ran under your porch. He got chased by someone’s dog on the next block. But I know he’s under there. Treacle.”

  A soft meow came from behind the steps.

  “Did you hear him?” I said, pretending to cry a little. “He’s just scared. He’ll come to me. Here kitty, kitty. Good kitty.”

  I got down on my knees and peeked under the steps. Treacle was right there, but we had a good act going.

  “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Could I bother you for a saucer of milk? That’ll get him out quickly. I know it will.”

  Dolores looked quite put out, but she nodded. Within a few minutes, she was back at the door with a saucer.

  “You know, my psychic told me something like this was going to happen.” I chuckled. “I thought I was going to lose my purse. Turns out I held tight to my purse and let loose of my cat.”

  “You consult with a psychic?” Dolores’s hard shell started to crack as she opened the screen door and handed me the saucer.

  “Well, I did until he died. Thank you. This should do the trick.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me that you consulted with Niles Freudenfur.”

  “That’s him. I only received the benefit of his guidance twice, but he really made an impact,” I lied.

  “I was a patron of his for over five years. He was a brilliant man.” Now it was Dolores’s turn to start crying. “I was more than a patron to him, I must say. We were kindred spirits.”

  I set the milk down and took a seat on the step so as not to spook Mrs. Eversol. She was the perfect example of what a good plastic surgeon could do. Her hands and throat were wrinkled, putting her around fifty years old. But her face was smoother than mine, and her eyes, although clear and bright, had obviously been tugged to the side, making them narrower than normal. Her lips had been plumped up as well as her breasts. She wore yoga pants and a T-shirt with a sweater. The air-conditioning was set for freezing in her house.

  “I don’t know what happened to him,” I lied again. “I went to schedule a visit, and there was an estate sale going on. No one said anything except that the owner of the house had died. Did you hear anything?”

  “Well, speaking as someone who knew Niles very, very well, I suspect that he was murdered.”

  “Really?”

  “He wasn’t the only psychic in town. But he was the best. When you are as good at your craft as he was, there are bound to be some haters.” She folded her arms and tugged at her sweater. “Like the witch down at that café.”

  My mouth fell open.

  “I don’t go to that part of town, usually. But there is a café that is run by some woman, and she does tarot readings. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had something to do with this. I mean, you have to wonder about a person who only charges twenty dollars for her gift of sight. Or should I say her gift of story-telling.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say.

  “Niles told me how jealous she was of his business.” She looked at me with that air of self-importance.

  I went to speak, but the words stumbled and tripped all over each other until I finally got control of my tongue. “That sounds a little too far-fetched to me.” I cleared my throat. “Maybe Patrick had something to do with it. The man who sat in on his sessions.”

  “Absolutely not. Patrick adored Niles. In fact, Niles confided in me that they were lovers.”

  “He told you that during a session you were paying for?” I wanted to push Dolores just a little.

  “Well, as I said. We were kindred spirits. There was a mutual give and take.” She nodded. “I was like a sister to him. He even told me that since he had no family, he was grateful to me for accepting him.”

  “That is really nice.” I pretended to look under the porch. “I think he’s getting closer.” Treacle let out another meow for effect.

  “He had told me that he thought I was gifted. I just needed the proper training and guidance to reveal it.”

  I didn’t ask any further questions. It was obvious that Dolores was very interested in talking. No need to prod or interrupt.

  “He said that my soul had experienced several life cycles and that in each one of them I was in a position of power. Sometimes I was a male. Sometimes a female. Sometimes an animal.”

  “An animal?” I said. “That’s deep.”

  “Isn’t it? That’s why I can communicate with them.”

  “Really?” I was getting angrier by the minute. First she insulted Aunt Astrid, and now this. “Do you think you can communicate with Treacle and get him to come out?”

  “Oh, well, I can only communicate with dogs. I was a she-wolf.”

  “Darn.” I snapped my fingers and frowned.

  “Ha ha ha,” Treacle laughed when I peeked under the steps.

  “Here, kitty. Some nice milk for you.”

  “I just don’t know what I’ll do without him. Niles was such a big part of my life.”

  “Sure.” I watched as Treacle drank the saucer of milk.

  “At least I’m getting something out of this,” he said as he lapped slowly.

  “I am too. A headache.”

  “He told me he was on the verge of completing a progression of rituals that would allow him even greater visions. He thought I’d be a good candidate to follow him, you know, as a pupil.”

  “Do you know what the names of these rituals are?” I didn’t expect her to know. It was obvious I was dealing with someone who enjoyed being the center of attention. Even if it meant diminishing the fact that a man’s life had come to an end, Dolores was the one really affected.

  “The Sequence of Ursaken.”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  “Did you say The Sequence of Ursaken?” I looked at Dolores as if she’d just sprouted tentacles and a second head.

  “Yes. It’s supposed to take several weeks to complete and must be followed to the letter. Niles was going to have me prepare and perform it with him, but I’ve got responsib
ilities here at home.”

  I grabbed the empty saucer and handed it to Dolores.

  “Treacle.” With one leap, the big furry lump was in my arms. “We have to go now.”

  I didn’t say thanks or good-bye. There wasn’t time for those kinds of formalities. The truth was I was a swirling ball of fear, anger, and astonishment.

  “That was rude of you,” Treacle said as I carried him down the block to where I’d parked my car.

  “Are you kidding me? What’s rude is that woman making Niles’s death all about her. Past lives and talking to animals. If she was an example of the kind of people who paid money to Niles for his psychic guidance…well, I don’t even know what to say about that. And what about her talking about Aunt Astrid the way she did?”

  “That was out of line,” Treacle concurred.

  “I was ready to slap her across the face. It makes me wonder what else Niles said about her. What kind of a psychic talks about other people to his clients? He’s supposed to be telling them about their lives, not his own.”

  “What is The Sequence of Ursaken?” Treacle asked as we reached the car.

  Within seconds, I had my Dodge Neon turned around, speeding home. I knew I was going to get in trouble for visiting Dolores on my own. But it was worth it.

  “The Sequence of Ursaken is a long, drawn-out ritual that is nearly impossible to perform. Aunt Astrid will have all the details. All I know is that it is something to stay away from.”

  I hit the gas to catch a yellow light and quickly made my way down the quiet subdivision street to my house. You could imagine how shocked I was to get honked at by Bea just as she was pulling into her driveway. Aunt Astrid was in the seat next to her.

  Bea spoke before I could.

  “Do you want to tell us what you learned from Dolores Eversol? We struck out finding Patrick Fouts.”

  “Why, you sneaky witches.” I smirked.