The Bark of the Town

by Stella St. Claire

  Willow nodded. She knew that it was also entirely likely that the nail polish had been set out for Wednesday’s appointment but didn’t want to go down that road. She didn’t want to think about her sister at the scene of the crime.

  “The detectives questioned the employees at Polished to see if they had tips about who could have attacked Becca. While not much came out of these interviews, one woman did remember seeing Larissa confront Patricia while they were in the salon. She was sure that she heard the word “file.” Later, this employee thought it might be related to the murder weapon that killed Becca—”

  “But it might also have been about Patricia’s files,” Willow said, nodding.

  “Exactly.”

  “It seems like she would be a great person to interview,” Willow said. “Even if McMillan is dead set on Wednesday being guilty, why doesn’t anyone else on the case want to talk to Larissa?”

  “Because Larissa’s husband happens to be the president of the hospital,” Frank said cynically. “He’s someone high up in the city who might be able to make or break careers.”

  “So, that means his wife is allowed to get away with murder?” Willow asked, crossing her arms.

  “I don’t like it any better than you do,” Frank agreed gruffly. “But that’s why I’m telling you. I thought you might be able to talk to her.”

  “I will.”

  “And I don’t want to rush you, but I think you better work fast,” Frank said, and Willow could see the urgency behind his eyes. “McMillen and his team still don’t see any other suspects.”

  11

  Now that Willow was pressed, she realized that she knew Larissa though not by name. They both frequented the same yoga studio, Namaste A While. Willow had taken several classes with her but just knew her as a quiet woman who was able to hold her goddess pose.

  “I can’t believe that’s her,” Willow said to her sister. She was visiting Wednesday at her home to reassure her sister that she was working on the case and to offer to put things back into place after the detectives’ search. It was also giving her a chance to see if Wednesday knew anything about Larissa, either from Patricia and her files, from her post as police secretary, or from her ability to stay on top of the gossip in town.

  Wednesday had said that the detectives had been relatively respectful of her property, though they were thorough in their search and she seemed to be right. The only major project to return the house to the way it was before was to refold her laundry. Though the officers had returned her clothes to the drawers they were originally in, after checking for hidden compartments or blood-stained evidence, they were not folded the way that Wednesday liked. She had a system for piling her clothes in the drawer so she could see their colors and pick the one that spoke to her in the morning.

  “They must have put most things away because they were afraid of dealing with Dad after you’re found innocent and you’re both reinstated,” Willow said as she folded some shirts.

  “I thought I was friends with most of the men on the force too,” Wednesday said. “But I think McMillen has persuaded them that I’m guilty. A few of the officers didn’t want to make eye contact with me while they were here.”

  “Maybe it’s because they felt bad about going through your things and not because they thought that you were a killer. After all, I think someone had to go through all your bathroom items.”

  “I’d like to think it’s embarrassment and not that they really think I could be a murderer.”

  “Well, I know that you’re not,” Willow said. “And I’ve seen all your dirty laundry.”

  “This is clean!” Wednesday protested. “Or at least I thought it was. Yeah. The officers all used gloves. It’s clean.”

  Willow shook her head. It still bothered her to think that someone thought it was so likely that Wednesday was a killer that her home had to be searched. She needed to find the real person behind this.

  “So, tell me more about Larissa,” Willow said as she continued to fill up the drawer. “She seems quiet at yoga.”

  Wednesday nodded. “She’s always been quiet. And naturally pretty. And a lightning rod for bullies.”

  “Really?”

  “Actually, I remember in high school that Patricia, Becca, and Cassandra were pretty harsh to her,” Wednesday said, frowning at the memory. “I think I came across her crying in the girls’ room one time. We weren’t close enough that she would tell me what was wrong, but I remember thinking it was because of the bullying.”

  “That makes it sound as if Larissa had a reason to hate the victims for quite a while,” Willow said, thinking about it. “But I don’t know if a grudge from high school is enough to murder someone over. Do you know anything about Larissa and Patricia’s relationship more recently? Was she being blackmailed?”

  “I think Patricia just liked teasing her,” Wednesday admitted. “She told me some things about her in passing as part of her regular gossip spouting. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the police. She just liked to talk about Larissa.”

  “That is mean, but it might be relevant to our case too. What did she say about her?”

  “Well, the rumor was that Larissa was the mistress to the hospital president who had a wife and three children.”

  “There might be some truth to that rumor,” Willow said. “That sounds like the man that she ended up marrying. And the reason that no one on the force wants to consider her a suspect.”

  “Well, most of the town only believes that he married her because of the ‘miscarriage’ she had,” Wednesday said, setting down her dress to use air quotes around the word.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I remember Becca talking about it specifically at the salon one day. She was telling everyone that she was sure that Larissa had faked the pregnancy to get a ring. Now everyone is sort of waiting for the marriage to fall apart.”

  “This does sound like a motive for her to murder both of her tormenters,” Willow said, finishing her folding and shutting the drawer with a feeling of triumph.

  She had always thought of Larissa as a bit of a wet blanket at the studio. She was someone who would move her yoga mat to a new location rather than tell someone that she thought they had set up too close to her.

  However, maybe Willow’s initial impression of her was wrong. Maybe Larissa had finally snapped and wanted revenge. Then, using a nearby wine bottle and nail file, she had taken it.

  Willow left Wednesday’s house and headed to the yoga studio where she stalked classes all day, popping her head in for each new session to see if Larissa was there.

  The studio’s owner, Miranda, noticed but seemed to assume that Willow was trying to avoid someone instead of the reverse.

  “I try to keep harmony in my studio with all of my visitors, but I understand if there are people that you want to avoid because of what’s going on with your sister,” Miranda said. “I want you to know that I believe in her. There’s no way that I could think that she could kill anybody. Let alone two anybodies.”

  Willow thanked her for the support. On one hand, she was happy that there were still people in town who knew that Wednesday was innocent. On the other hand, this meant that probably every single person in town knew that she was the prime suspect now.

  She continued visiting classes and her persistence was rewarded when Larissa entered a gentle yoga class that evening. Miranda was leading the class, so Willow gave her a big smile when she entered as if it was the owner’s kind words that had encouraged her to brave the class and not her desire to spy on Larissa.

  She set up her mat and joined the other women in the room, following Miranda’s instructions to stretch, breathe, and feel at peace with the world. As Willow found her footing and moved her arms, she stole glances at Larissa.

  Despite everything that she had just learned, Willow couldn’t quite picture Larissa as a husband-stealing murderer. She just seemed too gentle.

  When the class ended, Willow took
her time rolling up her mat, trying to come up with an excuse to strike up a conversation with Larissa. It turned out that Miranda provided the perfect opening.

  Miranda walked up to the woman and gave her a hug.

  “Larissa, I’m so happy for you. Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

  When Larissa was released from the hug, she shushed her. “It’s still too early. I don’t want to tell anyone until after the twenty-week ultrasound.”

  She looked around the room to see who might have heard and her eyes landed on Willow. Immediately, Willow bounded up to her with a big smile on her face.

  “I’m sorry that you didn’t want anyone else to hear. But it is such wonderful news. I love babies,” Willow said, sounding more chipper than usual. “Please let me buy you a congratulatory smoothie.”

  “Well, all right,” Larissa agreed.

  Willow led her to the smoothie counter in the main area of Namaste A While and made some small talk about how silly it was that they hadn’t really spoken before.

  “I see you in classes all the time,” Willow said. “And I should have told you this before. But you hold the goddess pose better than anyone else I’ve ever met. It always makes my legs shake when I hold it for too long. You’re really impressive.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  Willow told her to order whatever smoothie she was currently craving and Larissa ordered a healthy green one. Willow followed suit.

  “You really love babies?” Larissa asked as they waited for their drinks.

  “Oh, definitely. They’re so small and cute and…” She paused because she was about to say “fluffy,” having thought of when Telescope was a puppy for inspiration. “Babies are just perfect.”

  “Are you trying to have one soon?” Larissa asked, and Willow realized she probably shouldn’t act so aggressively baby-happy.

  “Not right now,” Willow said. “My boyfriend and I haven’t even traded I love yous yet. Not that I don’t think he’s worth it. I do. I really do. But it’s a big step for me. Considering my past.”

  “I understand completely,” Larissa said as they were handed their smoothies.

  “So,” Willow said conspiratorially after taking a sip of her drink. “How far along are you?”

  Willow felt the need to ask, both because it was a fair question to keep a conversation about pregnancy rolling, and because Larissa was wearing such a baggy shirt that Willow really had no idea at all.

  “I’m eighteen weeks right now,” Larissa said, biting her lip and looking both excited and nervous.

  “Really?” Willow asked, trying to remember the rules of thumb about pregnancy from her few friends who had children (and not dogs, Willow’s current preference.) “I thought most people announced their pregnancy after their first trimester. You don’t want to do that?”

  Larissa set her drink down on the counter and her face hardened. “My last pregnancy ended at fourteen weeks.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Willow said.

  “It was devastating,” Larissa said, looking away. “It was two weeks after our big announcement to friends and family, so everyone knew about our loss. Of course, not everyone believed it. People can be so cruel.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Larissa rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. It was a very emotional time for me. My husband and I were mourning the loss of the baby that we had wanted for so long. And then there were all those horrible rumors circulating about me.”

  “I think this might have been before I moved back to town,” Willow said, and that part was true. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  Larissa shuddered at the memory. “There were all these whispers behind my back that I was a gold digger. It was mostly women talking. They implied that I tricked my husband into marriage and that it was only a matter of time until he left me because of the lie. Do you know what it’s like to face terrible and untrue gossip like that after a miscarriage?”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  Willow played with her straw. She was starting to feel sorry for Larissa. However, if Becca and Patricia were behind these rumors that had caused her so much pain, then it certainly could still be a motive for murder.

  “At least things seem to be going well for you now,” Willow pointed out, not wanting to scare her off. “Your husband obviously isn’t leaving you, and you’re expecting another child.”

  Larissa nodded as if she were trying to remind herself of the positives. “That’s true. But you can see why I don’t want to announce my second pregnancy too early. If I lose the baby, I don’t think I could handle going through that again.”

  “I really hope you won’t have to,” Willow said supportively.

  Larissa looked off into the distance as if she were remembering something and muttered, “Nail salons are evil places.”

  Willow wasn’t expecting the site of the second murder to actually be brought up and surprise must have shown on her face.

  “You’re not a fan of Polished, are you? Or, were you?” Larissa asked.

  “No,” Willow said.

  Larissa was becoming visibly angry and made her smoothie jump when she hit the counter with her fist. After hearing Willow’s reply that she had not been a fan of the place, she seemed willing to share what she really thought about it.

  “I know that salon was the origin of the gossip. The owner loves to spread rumors about people, and she can be so mean. Just like she was in high school. And her friend is just as bad.”

  “What friend is that?”

  “A woman named Patricia. In this case, she might have been worse. Or maybe Becca was just saying she was.” Larissa shook her head as if it didn’t really matter. “Becca was telling all her customers that Patricia had found proof that I had faked my pregnancy to fool Charles. They said that I orchestrated it all to get his money because he is a big wig at the hospital. And everyone seemed to believe her. There is a little bit of an age difference, and most people only knew of us being together for a few months. But Patricia couldn’t have had any proof because there wasn’t any to have. I really was pregnant. And I really did lose my baby. They were the ones who were lying.”

  “Why would they do that?” Willow asked, curious to hear her answer.

  “I think they enjoyed seeing other people suffer. As if I wasn’t already suffering enough!”

  Willow was debating bringing up the murders to see how Larissa would react to a discussion of her tormentors’ deaths, but after a swig from her smoothie, the other woman continued talking and Willow was eager to listen.

  “I just wish I could tell the world the truth,” she said with a sigh.

  Could she be referring to the murders? Willow tried not to get ahead of herself, but crossed her fingers that a confession might be coming.

  “Why don’t you?” Willow asked gently.

  “No. I couldn’t do that to Charles’s children. And it might defeat the purpose of our arrangement at the time.”

  “What arrangement?”

  “I’ll tell you if you promise not to be one of the rumormongers in town,” Larissa said. Willow could see that the woman desperately wanted to tell someone, and she promised not to tell everyone her secret. She rationalized that she might have to tell a few people if this did relate to the case, but she wouldn’t spread it around town like at the nail salon.

  “Charles and I had been together for a lot longer than the few months that everyone in town officially knew about. His marriage was over romantically, but he and his ex agreed to stay together until their children were out of high school.” Larissa added with a small grin, “Charles is a wonderful father.”

  “It still sounds like a bit of a sticky situation,” Willow said. “If he was still married.”

  “Maybe it does sound that way. And maybe telling the world would backfire,” Larissa said with a sigh. “But there really was no bad blood. Charles and his ex, Cynthia, agreed it was best for the kids to have a family unit through t
heir childhood, but Cynthia knew Charles was in love with me and supported it. She was figuring out her own life as well. And I think everything was handled admirably. They eased the kids into meeting me, and they all seem to like Charles and me together now. We were so excited to finally have out relationship out in the open. And we wanted to try and have a baby right away. But we’re all a functioning family unit. I wish everyone could understand that.”

  “Maybe they will someday?” Willow said.

  “I’m just so tired of all the drama,” Larissa said. Even after hearing her situation, the venom in her voice surprised Willow. She had to do a double-take. It was hard to determine whether Larissa was just a victim of Becca and Patricia’s gossip, or if she had a dark side that was hidden by her quiet exterior.

  “Well,” Willow said suddenly, hoping to elicit a reaction, “at least you won’t have to worry about those women’s rumors anymore. They were the two people who were killed in town recently, weren’t they?”

  She watched carefully as Larissa muttered, “Karma.” However, it was obvious that Larissa was embarrassed by what she said aloud. She instantly covered her mouth.

  Willow was about to follow up on that comment, but the door to the yoga studio opened. A man with a wild look in his eyes took a step inside. He was covered in tattoos and was wearing an outfit that was not conducive to practicing yoga, but instead looked like he might engage in a street fight. He wore tight jeans that had stains on them that might have been blood, and a leather jacket that looked like it belonged to a biker. He had a bulge in his pocket and Willow found herself wondering if he was hiding a gun.

  He was also holding a puppy. What was even more surprising was what he said as he walked further inside and addressed the room.

  “I’m looking for Willow,” he growled. “She here?”

  12

  “Is there a Willow here?” the man asked, coming further inside the yoga studio. “And I mean a person named Willow. Some lady. Not any hippie tree stuff. I know it’s a bit of a stupid name, but I’m looking for her. Willow?”