Walking Through Walls

by A. L. Kessler

  He shrugged. “Apparently, a guy came in and pulled a wad of dog poop from a hat.”

  “I’m really hoping that’s an actual trick and not magic. Why would you pull dog poop out of the hat? What was that going to accomplish?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m hoping we’ll find out a few things.” He pulled out of my driveway and headed toward the north part of town. “I’m really just hoping to find these dogs in time for Christmas.”

  I smiled. “Want to be the hero?”

  “No, I just can’t imagine facing Christmas without the family pet and worrying about them the whole day.” He shrugged.

  “Did you have a beloved family pet?” I asked, leaning back in the seat.

  He nodded. “A big old St. Barnard. We named him Toby, and he was with me through thick and thin.”

  I hesitated for a moment. “What happened to him?”

  “He died right before I went to college. He was my buddy.” There was sadness in his voice. “Some days, I wish I still had him, but he was old, and it was just his time.”

  “And now you have a raccoon.”

  He snorted. “Yes, and he’s a lovely pet, just not as snuggly as Tobby.” He took a road off to the side that led to a shopping center. There in the corner of the ‘L’ shaped center was a little flower shop with the shop lights still on.

  The neon light in the window flashed closed, but someone was moving around inside.

  Trace parked the car, and we both got out and approached the shop. He rapped on the door with his knuckle, and we stood there waiting.

  The woman inside shuffled over and opened the door. She welcomed us in with a huge smile.

  “Welcome. Oh good, you brought the witch.” Anne smiled at me and held her hand out. “I’m Anne O’Neal, and I own this fine establishment.”

  Anne was bouncy, and her blue eyes shone with pride as she talked about her shop. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a wavy ponytail that hung down to her shoulders.

  Her shop reflected her bright personality well, everything was pastel colors, even most of the vases had a light color to them.

  “Nice to meet you, Anne. I’m Lacey. I act as a consultant with Mr. McHue, and he told me you wanted to speak to me before you would give him any information about the dogs?”

  She nodded. “It’s not that I’m holding the information hostage. I just need to know a couple things first, so I can confirm that the dogs were the ones.”

  I still wasn’t exactly sure what it had to do with magic at this point. “So, what can I do for you?”

  She held out a hat. “I have this hat.”

  I stared at the black top hat. To most people, that wouldn’t be a problem, but me? Well, I didn’t need any more magical animals. I hesitated, but in the end, I took it. “Okay?”

  “Is it magical?”

  I blinked at her. “Well, it could be. Really, any hat could be magical with the right person. I could pull something out of the hat, but that’s because I’m a witch. If you’re not magical, then you won’t be able to pull anything out of it.” I sniffed it and cringed as the smell of poop hit my nose. “And judging by the smell in the hat, I would say that the man who pulled that trick on you is not magical, because the poop left a smell behind.”

  She crossed her arms. “So he had to have gotten the dog poop from somewhere.”

  “I do believe dog poop can be found in most yards in the area.” I tried to keep my voice calm. Trace had brought me up here just to confirm that someone had put poop in the hat.

  She motioned to the hat. “Can you pull something out of it?”

  I looked at Trace, and he raised a brow. I sighed and reached my hand inside, trying not to touch any of the smears of feces that might have been left behind. I tried to think of something, anything to pull out of the hat, and all I could think of was cake.

  My fingers wrapped around something, and I pulled up. A jiggly plate of jello came out of the hat. “Tada?” I asked and sat it on the counter. “So, why do you think this had to do with the dogs?”

  “Well, you see, Tank came in here, yelling and screaming about me ratting on his friend. He threatened to cover my place in dog poop. And then he pulled this hat off his bike and pulled the dog poop out of it. Then he threw it at me. Mandi had come in last night to ask me about her dogs, and I told her that I’d seen Tank’s friend with a bag of dog food in his cart.”

  Perfect. “And who is Tank?”

  “He’s a local homeless man who typically stays behind my shop. I’m betting since I pissed him off, he’s not going to be hanging around there anymore.”

  Probably not. But it would still be a place to start. “Thanks for the help, Anne.”

  She nodded. “No problem.” She glanced at the jello. “Is that safe to eat?”

  “I pulled it out of a hat that had dog crap in it, what do you think?”

  She sighed. “Probably better to just throw it away.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Trace laughed. “Thanks for the info, Anne, I’ll let you know if I have any other questions.”

  She waved. “Sure, sure. Have a good night.”

  Trace and I walked out of the shop together, and Anne locked the door behind us again. Trace jerked his head toward the end of the shopping center. “Let’s take a look.”

  “You’re the boss,” I muttered and pulled my jacket tighter around me as we walked down to the corner.

  We walked down the long stretch of closed shops and rounded the corner. The dark back portion was lit only by a couple of emergency lights that dotted the back of the brick building.

  With that little light, I couldn’t see anything but the shapes of the dead trees behind the building and the outline of some bushes. No sign of a shopping cart or a bag of dog food. For that matter, there was no sign of life that we could see.

  “Maybe it’s too cold, and they moved on.” Trace scanned the area. “I don’t even see a camp.”

  “That’s possible. It’s a bit cold to be out in the open.” Of course, I wasn’t really sure where a homeless person would go to stay out of the winter chill. I turned to leave. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Trace followed me. “Thanks, it’s at least something to go off.”

  “Well, let’s just be glad it was jello that I pulled out of that hat and not something else.”

  He chuckled. “I’m seeing it as signs of improvement.”

  “And I’m seeing it as a sign that I’m hungry. So, let’s get me home.”

  We curved the building and saw someone looking into the windows of the truck.

  “Can I help you?” Trace took a step up so that he was in front of me.

  The man turned, his eyes flashing in the lights of the shopping center. His stringy gray hair hung around his sunken face. His clothes were torn and stained, and he rubbed his bare hands together. “Just lookin.’” His voice was a bit slurred. He stumbled toward us. “Got any change? For something warm to eat?”

  Trace hesitated, but I dug in my pocket. “Here’s a couple bucks, go get something warm.”

  The man snagged the money from my hand quickly. “Thanks.” He stumbled off.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Trace headed toward the truck. I looked back at the man as he disappeared into the shadows. Maybe I should have asked him questions before I handed him the money. Did he know who our mysterious dog poop homeless man was?

  “Come on, Lacey. It’s cold,” Trace called.

  I turned back to the truck and walked to it. I got in and shut the door. When I looked out the window, the homeless man was staring right at me. I shivered and wondered why he was watching us. I pushed the thought out of my head and focused on the street in front of us as Trace drove.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I woke the next morning to the phone ringing. I groaned because the sun wasn’t even peaking over the horizon, and someone was calling me. I swiped the phone off my nightstand and answered it.

  “What?”

  “Is that any way to talk to yo
ur mother this early?”

  “You called me this early. Besides, I didn’t think we were on speaking terms after the cake incident.”

  There was a long dramatic sigh on the end of the line. “Well, I guess that was a blessing in disguise because it wasn’t a very good cake.”

  I was going to make a comment about the other cake that Trace ate, but I let it be. “So, why are you calling so early?”

  “I wanted to invite you over for breakfast to tell you that I’m sorry for my reaction.”

  I sat up. This sounded like a set up to me, but free food was free food. And I didn’t have to cook. I glanced at my alarm clock. “I have a bit of time before I have to open the shop.”

  “Good, I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” She disconnected the phone.

  I rubbed my eyes. I had a little time to shower and get going, but at least there was breakfast involved.

  I got myself ready and went to my parents’ house. Dad was standing at the window, drinking a cup of coffee. I parked and got out and waved to him before I went in.

  Dad raised his mug in my direction. “Good morning.”

  “Morning, what’s mom up to?”

  He motioned to the dining room. “Why don’t you go find out.”

  I covered my eyes and took a deep breath before I walked into the dining room. On the table were plates of pancakes, waffles, sausage, bacon, and that was it.

  Nothing surprising was waiting for me. No extra guest was there. Mom wasn’t even waiting for me.

  I stuck my head into the kitchen. “Mom?”

  “Lacey, I’m glad you could make it.” She turned around and wiped her hands off on her apron. “Good morning. Coffee’s on, grab a cup, and let’s eat.”

  I nodded and slowly inched over to the coffee pot.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lacey. I’m not a snake, I’m not going to bite you.” She went over and pulled me down a mug. “Cream?”

  “Just a little bit.”

  She nodded and put a splash in and then walked over to me and handed me the mug. “Come on, I don’t want breakfast to get cold.”

  I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I took the mug and went into the dining room. Dad was already sitting at the table and making himself a plate. I sat down with him and started to fix my plate. I glanced at him, and he looked away, and I knew something was about to go down.

  My mom sat down, but she didn’t start to dish her food, she just sat there and stared at me.

  I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Who died?”

  “No one died.” My mother messed nervously with the napkin. “I wanted to talk to you about a Christmas party that we were invited to.”

  I was having problems putting two and two together. “You and dad got invited to a Christmas party? I’m so glad you’re making friends out here.” I smiled. “You love parties.”

  “All of us were invited. It’s with one of the hotel owners here.”

  Oh, I didn’t like where this was going. “He heard that you ran a magic shop and wanted to know if you’d come and perform some tricks.” She waved her hands in the air. “Not magic magic, but actual parlor tricks.”

  “Um. I’m not really versed in parlor tricks, and even when I try those my magic goes…”

  “Wrong,” my mother said.

  “Quirky,” my dad said at the same time.

  I rubbed my eyes. “I can’t do that, mom.”

  “Please? Maybe if you actually try, it’ll work out. Just don’t put too much magical energy into it. This would be a huge connection for me, and maybe even a foot in the door for you.”

  “For what? I like where I am with my shop and my life.”

  She let out a sigh. “For better opportunities, Lacey.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll think about it, but right now, my answer is no. I have a lot going on this holiday season.” I grabbed my plate and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To work.” I headed to the door. “I’ll send the plate back later with dad.”

  I didn’t look back as I walked out to my car. It was rude to leave that way, but my mom’s words dug into me. ‘If you actually try.’ I’d been trying all my life.

  I took a deep breath and started the car. My dad was back at the window with his cup of coffee. I gave him a little wave as I drove off. I knew I’d see him later and we’d talk about it.

  But right now, I just wanted to eat my bacon in anger and disappointment as I drove to my shop.

  Unfortunately, the disappointment didn’t stop there. I saw the cops in front of my shop when I drove past to park in the back. I got out of the car and practically ran to the front where there were a couple of officers standing while someone examined a body.

  A body.

  In front of my shop.

  I stood up on my toes to see that it was a woman and that my front window was shattered. I’d wondered why my security alarm hadn’t alerted me or gone off.

  “Excuse me, miss?” A voice came from behind me.

  I turned around to see another officer behind me. He tipped his hat at me. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “This is my shop. I’m trying to figure out what is going on.”

  He nodded. “Please, come with me, and we’ll talk for a minute.” He put a hand on my shoulder and guided me away from the scene. He walked me down the street, and we stopped at a coffee shop on the next block. The heat when we walked in was a welcoming change from the cold outside.

  I saw another officer sitting at a table with a little boy, no older than seven, talking. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach when he looked up at me.

  He was the little boy the other PI had been looking for, and I was willing to bet his mom was the body in front of my shop.

  “Miss?” The officer with me brought my attention back to him. “Would you like a coffee while we talk?”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  He motioned for me to sit down at a table a few spots away from the little boy. I sat and tried not to stare at the kid and the officer he was talking to. My brain was trying to figure out what happened.

  A couple minutes later, the officer sat down with me. “I’m sorry, I’m Officer Brigs. You must be Lacey Willows.”

  I nodded. “I am. Nice to meet you, Officer Brigs.”

  He let out a small smile. “It’s nice of you to try and be polite, but I know no one wants to see the cops in front of their shop.”

  “That’s true.” I sighed. “My shop has been through a lot this last year. I didn’t really need anything else happening to it. What happened? I saw the window busted.”

  “Well, someone broke into your shop and ripped the security system out of the wall. The woman we found was left in your store.”

  I cringed. “I didn’t get any notifications from my company.”

  “I think it all happened to fast for the system to process it.” He pulled out a picture. “Do you know this woman?”

  The picture was the same one that the PI had shown me.

  “Not personally, no. There was a private investigator that came to my shop asking about her and her kid. She said they were a missing person case, and that they’d been seen in my shop.”

  The office took a couple notes. “And had they?”

  “I couldn’t recall. I see at least a hundred people a day during the holiday rush. I can’t remember everyone’s face.”

  He nodded. “Of course not. And the PI that came to speak to you. Do you know her name?”

  “Gwen Smith. My neighbor knows her a bit more personally. He might have more information on her.” I glanced at the little boy. “Does he have family?”

  “He does, but for now, he’s going to go with social services because we have to figure out what happened to his mom. Don’t worry, Ms. Willows, we’ll make sure he’s well taken care of.”

  The coffee shop door opened, and I saw Trace walk in, his brow drawn together in concern. “Lacey?”

&n
bsp; I gave him a little wave. “I’m okay.”

  He came and sat down next to me. “I’m Trace McHue, I’m Lacey’s neighbor.”

  “She was just saying that you might have some information on Gwen Smith for us.”

  He frowned. “What does Gwen have to do with this.”

  “The woman she was looking for showed up dead in my shop,” I muttered and put a hand over my eyes. I didn’t want to think about a dead body in the shop. I was starting to think I needed to switch locations.

  He sighed. “Gwen stopped by the other day to ask Lacey about a woman. She was insisting that Lacey go through her security footage to see if the woman had been there. While Lacey opened the shop, Gwen and I exchanged words. Originally Gwen called the night before and said that she was coming down to chat with me. But she actually wanted to talk to Lacey, and in the end, got angry and stormed off.”

  “And why did she want to speak to you, Mr. McHue?”

  “She was hoping I’d let her use my research and contacts to help with her missing persons case. Gwen isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She’s not very resourceful when it comes to gathering her information.”

  There were so many things he could have meant by ‘resourceful,’ because he’d said that she was pretty shady. I kept my mouth shut, though. I didn’t know her at all, and he apparently did. Maybe there was like a PI social media where they could meet each other.

  That thought made me want to giggle, but I forced my lips to stay pressed into a frown.

  “Thank you for that info, Mr. McHue. If you could get me her contact information, that would be wonderful. As soon as we get the morgue to remove the body and the crime scene team is done, Ms. Willows can return to her shop.”

  I assumed that was going to take more than a couple hours. “Okay, I’ll figure out what to do in the meantime.” I glanced at Trace, and he shrugged. “Come to the office and do some research.” That wasn’t a bad idea. We still had missing dogs to find.

  “If I could also have your contact number Ms. Willows, so I can get ahold of you if I need to ask you any more questions.” He pushed his notebook toward me, and I wrote down my name and phone number.