Pawsibly Murdered

by Harper Lin

  “Nobody,” I sulked and looked at Blake, who was diligently reading his notes as Jake talked to Bea about the case.

  The guys stayed for a little while. Each had a slice of Kevin’s sinfully good carrot cake for dessert.

  I scoffed at Blake. “I hope you enjoy that carrot cake.”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “It is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. But I sort of promised my aunt I wouldn’t eat any of it.” I didn’t say anything more. I didn’t want to explain to Blake that I was being punished like a teenager who snuck out her window the night before and got caught.

  “In that case, I’ll take two slices to go.”

  I looked Blake square in the eyes. He didn’t flinch.

  “You are a piece of work,” I grumbled. I said good-bye to two slices and snapped them in a container. Then, with a pinch more bad attitude, I handed them over. “Enjoy.”

  As I was staring daggers at Blake, Jake got a call on his cell. He stepped outside to take it, leaving Blake staring at me as if I were some kind of fungus culture under a microscope.

  Jake came back into the café, shaking his head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “A witness on another case is getting cold feet about testifying in court tomorrow.” Jake tugged at the collar of his shirt. “He’s a bit needy. I think this is more for show, but the captain wants me to bring him to the station and give him a good talking-to.”

  “You need me on this?” Blake asked.

  “No.”

  Blake nodded and went back to his notes.

  “I’ll see you at home?” Jake said to Bea as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

  “Mom wants us for dinner at her house.” Bea giggled.

  “Fine by me. I’ll meet you at her house.” Jake clapped Blake on the back, promising to call him later.

  When Jake left, so did the remaining customers. The foot traffic slowed to a crawl.

  “Can you leave the café for a spell?” Blake asked out if nowhere.

  I looked at the clock. It was six thirty. “Yeah. Why?”

  “I’ve got a couple errands to run and could use your help.”

  I looked at him suspiciously.

  “You are asking for my help? You wouldn’t ask me for help on how to spell my own name. What’s up?”

  “Why are you so suspicious? There are dozens of scientific papers that say paranoia goes hand in hand with several other mental disorders. A literal mind over matter revised way of thinking could correct the psychosis and add years onto your life.”

  “Me, suspicious?” I tilted my head like a dog that heard a high-pitched whine.

  “Grab your purse,” he said as he stood up. “Bea, I’m borrowing your cousin for a minute. I’ll bring her back shortly.”

  “Are you all right being by yourself?” I asked.

  “I’m going to lock it up a little early, so don’t worry. Just go straight to Mom’s when you guys are done.” Bea began wiping down the counter and emptying the coffeepots.

  I kissed Bea on the cheek, grabbed my purse, and followed Blake to his car.

  “So where are we going?”

  “Niles Freudenfur’s place.”

  I stopped in my tracks.

  Blake turned around and looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you want to go there?”

  “We’ve gotten a couple calls about a prowler. Some strange noises too. I didn’t pay too much attention to Patrick Fouts when he said he saw a prowler around there. I thought he was a grubby gold-digger looking to take advantage of an old has-been. Now he’s dead. I should have listened to my gut.”

  “What does your gut tell you now?”

  “That there is something strange about that house.”

  “Why do you need me?”

  “I don’t. I just thought it would be a safe place for you to eat this carrot cake.”

  He jiggled the bag in the air, still without a smile or even a smirk, and then continued walking to his car.

  I shook my head and hurried after him.

  20

  As Valuable as Vaccines

  By the time I finished the second slice of carrot cake, I was completely immersed in the surveillance we were conducting on the Freudenfur house.

  “So how are things with you and Tom?” Blake asked.

  Up until this point the conversation had revolved around clues and evidence and some people who were interviewed. Blake had a few things to say about Dolores Eversol like prone to exaggerate and in need of some old-fashioned manners. But when he asked me about Tom, things suddenly shifted.

  “I don’t know.” I sighed.

  “What do you mean, you ‘don’t know’?”

  Without going into the witchy details, I told him about the first and second encounter with his mother.

  “Truthfully, Blake, something is just missing. That might sound stupid, but it’s the best way I can describe it.”

  “I know how you feel. That was how I felt about Darla.”

  The carrot cake that had tasted so good going down was now burning the back of my throat as I controlled the urge to vomit.

  “The chemical reactions that go on between people are as valuable as vaccines are in preventing negative outcomes.” He meticulously explained something about pheromones and physiological experiments and studies that proved certain body types went with other body types, and it felt as if I were back in school, getting a lecture by a good-looking yet terribly dry professor.

  “What about love?” I interrupted. “Science doesn’t explain why we love who we love. And I was raised that when you find The One, you know it. I don’t think there are any reports or studies that explain that.”

  “So you are one of those hopeless romantic types? Is that what you’re saying?” Blake looked through a small set of binoculars in the direction of Niles’s house.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Nothing. I’m not surprised.”

  There it was. There was the condescending tone that could only come from Blake Samberg.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped. “If you had it all figured out with your formulas and equations, you would have seen that Darla was not only not the one but so far in the opposite direction you should have fallen off the map.”

  Blake didn’t flinch but kept looking at the house. Since I didn’t get his immediate attention, I continued lecturing him.

  “I’m not a descendant of Spock’s, okay? I have emotions and feelings, and I’m not afraid to let them guide me. It’s not always logical. I’m not a Romulan. I’m a human.”

  “Vulcan.”

  “What?”

  “Spock was a Vulcan. Actually, he was half-Vulcan, half-human. His father married a human woman.”

  “I’m going to punch you in the face,” I retorted.

  “Then I’ll have to arrest you for assaulting an officer.”

  Before I could say another word, he pointed toward the house. From our vantage point, we could see a sliver of the front yard. But it seemed that Blake was more interested in what was happening in the backyard. That only made sense since no one in their right mind would go traipsing up the driveway… like me.

  We were looking at the area Aunt Astrid, Bea, and I had traveled when we trespassed on the property. When we heard that terrible screeching and bolted out of there.

  “I think I see movement.” He put the binoculars down. “Stay close, and don’t make any noise.”

  “What? Are you crazy? We can’t go on the property.”

  “Why not? The owner is dead. No one else should be on the premises.”

  “That includes us, right?”

  “My badge gives us dispensation.”

  Blake opened the door and climbed out of the car. I quickly followed him but wondered why I didn’t just stay put. Aunt Astrid was really going to kill me, if the creature I saw last night didn’t first.

  “Blake!” I hissed. “Blake! Wait!”<
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  He turned around and stopped just as we reached the edge of the property. It was the same as when Aunt Astrid, Bea, and I had attempted to snoop around. Should I tell Blake we’d been here? That there was a hidden altar that was overgrown with the wrong kind of pentagram painted on it? Maybe I should tell him I was here last night, that this was my third visit to the Freudenfur estate, and none of them ended in any other way than me running away from some screaming, lumbering thing that had gotten so close to me yesterday that it tagged my car with its muddy, grubby hands.

  “What?” he asked quietly, pulling me down into the tall grass to stay out of sight.

  “I have to tell you something. I was here last night,” I confessed. “I saw something. I don’t know how to tell you what it was. But it was bad, and I really think we should go back to my aunt’s house.”

  “What did you see?”

  I couldn’t tell him. If it were Tom, I could. I could say that I saw a man who looked as if he was made of mud and slime and smelled like a swamp. But I couldn’t tell Blake. The words wanted to come out, but they just wouldn’t.

  “I… can’t be sure.”

  “Someone is doing something inside that house. They are looking for something that was left behind or hidden that will help solve this case. I’ve got to find them and see what they are trying to hide.”

  Maybe Blake was right. That made a lot more sense than some sludge creature, that was for sure. Maybe, since Niles was a warlock, in the loosest of terms, someone thought a spooky story would keep people away. Maybe I was wrong all along and it wasn’t the demon Aunt Astrid said it was. Maybe it was just some guy in a mask.

  “Come on.” Blake took my hand. We locked our fingers to make sure we weren’t letting go. It felt as if we’d been holding hands like this our whole lives. I didn’t feel the butterflies or jitters as I had with Tom. Instead, I felt brave.

  We inched our way closer to the house, but there was nothing moving around. In fact, it was as still as a graveyard. A few crickets chirped quickly. I listened for any other footsteps but heard nothing.

  By the time I realized my hand was sweating, Blake and I were near the overgrown pond at the edge of the back porch. The sky was clear, but the moon had not risen yet. We were in the darkest dark I’d ever seen. I could feel my pupils trying to stretch even wider to grasp any extra shard of light that might help things come into focus.

  Without thinking, I leaned closer to Blake.

  With his free hand, he reached into his jacket. I was afraid he was pulling out his gun. What was he going to shoot at? Unless he had eyes like Treacle he’d just be aiming into the darkness. A blind man had a better chance of hitting a target.

  Blake leaned so close to my ear to speak to me his lips were almost touching my skin.

  “Do you hear that?”

  I held my breath and listened.

  There was a sucking sound. It was that soggy, wet sound a boot made when being pulling out of mud.

  I turned my head toward him and could feel his cheek so close to me as he leaned close to listen.

  “Yes.”

  We stood motionless with our hands still locked when I felt more than saw Blake extend his arm. There was a click and then a shadow-shattering beam of light. His flashlight lit up half the backyard.

  He’d aimed it to his right. I wasn’t sure what Blake was expecting to find. If he thought there was a person trespassing or vandals looking to break into the old house, I could have warned him he’d be disappointed. But what he saw, what we saw, changed everything.

  21

  Growls and Gurgles

  At first, it looked as though some kind of muddy substance was spilling out of the pond. It rolled over itself like lava from a volcano. But before Blake could say anything, an arm shot out of the muck, followed by the second. They pulled from the ooze a torso that arched, ultimately throwing back what could only be the head.

  That horrible, hateful scream came from the open maw.

  “Cath? Am I hallucinating?”

  “No! No, Blake!” I wasn’t sure what state Blake’s mind was in. But I wasn’t going to leave him here. When I turned around to face the house, there was a mist swirling around the corners. There was no way I was going to run, pulling Blake into that. “Come on!”

  We both turned and ran to the back door. I remembered from the estate sale that the back door had been barricaded. Before I could say we’d have to break a window Blake kicked it open and pulled me inside.

  The fog was all around the house. We could see it through the thin curtains left hanging across the front windows.

  “What is that?”

  “I don’t know!” I panted. “Come on!”

  I was sure I could hear the sloshy, thick steps of the mud creature closing in on us. It was making its way up the back porch.

  “Upstairs!”

  The bright light lit everything up for us, but it also alerted the thing to where we were headed. I pulled Blake down the hallway to what had been the doll room. Thankfully, it was empty of the glassy-eyed devils that had been there just a few days earlier.

  “In here,” I whispered as I pulled him toward the closet.

  “How do you know about this?”

  “Get in, and I’ll tell you everything,” I hissed as I yanked open the second tiny door inside the closet with the crystal doorknob.

  Blake pulled the big closet door shut behind him then shined the light into the smaller opening. The room was so small we had to crouch to get in. The ceiling was slanted. The floor was unfinished. The walls were skeletal beams alternating with pink fiberglass.

  Quickly but quietly, I pulled the small door shut. We both held our breath and listened. The thing was screaming again. Was it in the house? Was it looking for us outside in that strange fog?

  Blake had to kneel down. He was too tall for the small room. I was stooping when I realized we were still holding hands. We’d let go when we got to the closet. But our hands had automatically found each other again.

  “Get behind me,” he whispered.

  We could both hear the thing pounding slowly up the steps.

  “No. You get behind me.” I gently pushed him back.

  “Cath, I don’t know what that thing was, but it looked like a man. You’re just too small. If I have to use my gun, I want you behind me.”

  “Your gun won’t work. But do you have any silver on you?”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Do you?”

  Blake reached inside his shirt and pulled out a silver chain.

  “Can I have it?”

  He yanked hard and broke the clasp to a small St. Jude medal. I knew St. Jude was the patron saint of police officers and lost causes. Tom had one too. How appropriate, I thought. Blake was a cop, but I wondered if he wasn’t more of a lost cause. The thought made me chuckle inside, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Give me your pencil,” I ordered quietly.

  Without asking, he gave me his pencil. Without worrying about what he was going to think of me, I drew a quick circle on the floor. Reciting a couple of lines from a childhood protection spell I’d learned from my mother, I touched the silver charm to the sides of the circle. I did the same kind of thing to the little door, hoping it would be enough to keep us safe until either the thing gave up or the sun came up. Whichever came first.

  I gently took Blake’s hand again. He didn’t pull away from me. In fact, I felt his hand tighten around mine. We sat down in the circle. It wasn’t a big space. We had to almost snuggle together.

  “I always knew there was something about you,” Blake said, barely over a whisper. He didn’t let go of my hand.

  “What do you mean?” I said, more in an effort to distract myself from the horror that I was sure was climbing up the steps, ready to sniff us out.

  “You have a gift, don’t you?”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  He let go of my hand. I pretended not to be hurt.<
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  “Does it bother you?” I prodded.

  “I’ve just seen a man crawl out from a muddy, disgusting pond and take off after us. There are bigger things bothering me right now than you.”

  I chuckled.

  We heard the thing outside. Both of us froze.

  “Light,” I whispered, pointing to the flashlight.

  Blake clicked off the light. We were immersed in an even blacker black than we had been in outside. I waved my hand in front of my face. I couldn’t see a thing.

  “This is my hand,” Blake said as he slipped his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t be scared, Cath.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Whatever you did with my medal, it’ll work.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  The thing continued to shuffle along the hallway, screaming in frustration and stomping every couple of feet as if it thought to run but changed its mind.

  We heard it getting closer.

  I started to tremble. I couldn’t help it. Blake tightened his arm around me, pulling me into him as he positioned himself between the door and me.

  Now, some people might say it was the wrong time to notice how strong Blake’s arms were beneath his old suit and that even though we were both sweating in the tiny room as much from fear as from the temperature, he still smelled good.

  What was I doing? I was distracted. I needed to concentrate on the spell to keep us safe. I might as well have taken Blake’s pencil and made little hearts and curlicues for all the good this protection circle was going to do us.

  “It’s in the room,” Blake whispered in my ear.

  We froze and listened.

  The sounds that came from this creature were like many growls and gurgles by a symphony of wild animals.

  It knew where we were. It was just playing a game. It was going to pull as much fear from us as possible. Creatures like this bathed in our fear, wallowing in it like little children under the streams of a sprinkler.

  I tried to steel myself. I braced my shoulders and concentrated on my spell. It might have been simple, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work. I concentrated so hard my muscles tightened and my jaw clenched.