by Raven Snow
“The Dog at the Door”
Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery
“Lainswich Witches” Series Book 5
Raven Snow
© 2016
Raven Snow
Disclaimer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. If you have not purchased this book from Amazon or received it directly from the author you are reading a pirated copy. If you have downloaded an illegal copy of this book & enjoyed it, please consider purchasing a legal copy. Your respect & support encourages me to continue writing & producing high quality books for you. Copyright 2016 Raven Snow.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner & are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover images are licensed stock photos, images shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are models.
Edition v1.00 (2016.08.17)
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Authors Note
Books by Raven Snow
Chapter One
Aunt Lydia was vehemently against the idea of Rowen moving out. She refused to help with the packing process, instead choosing to hole up in her bedroom. For the week leading up to the move, there was a steady stream of incense smoke and chanting from the other side of the door. Rowen would have told her to stop. Spells were no joke in her family.
“It’s fine,” Aunt Nadine had assured her, whispering so that Aunt Lydia couldn’t hear. “I’ve been doing spells to ease your transition to the new house. Between the two of us, the spells should just cancel out.”
Rowen wasn’t entirely confident about those particularities of spell casting. For weeks, she was convinced in the back of her mind that the deal was going to fall through somehow. Any day now, the realtor would call them up and let them know it just wasn’t going to work out.
Even with Aunt Lydia’s meddling, the day finally came. Contracts were signed and friends and family assembled to load boxes and furniture into the moving van.
“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart,” said Rowen’s mother, Tiffany. She drew her into a hug when she caught her alone that morning. “You two deserve this. You really do.”
Rowen thought it was a bit funny that her family was making such a big fuss out of this. It was almost like she had always lived in the Greensmith family house and hadn’t spent several years living off in the city and away from Lainswich entirely.
Moving out with ones’ husband was totally normal. Most couples were already living together before they got married. Rowen supposed she was an exception. Between her weird, overprotective family and Eric jetting all over the world for business, theirs was a somewhat unusual set of circumstances.
“I couldn’t be more proud,” said Rowen’s uncle, Norman, clapping a hand to her shoulder as he passed by.
Rowen knew for a fact that he was only happy she was moving because that meant he got the attic room. Ever since moving back from Europe, he’d been a total deadbeat, lazing around on their couch for most of the day. A room of his own would give him more privacy to cook up schemes. There was no doubt in Rowen’s mind that it was only a matter of time before he was back to his conman ways.
Rowen’s cousins were supportive—albeit a bit reluctant to help with a move. Aunt Nadine’s daughters helped. Willow and Peony talked their friend Tina into lending a hand. Rose forced her boyfriend, Ben, to help. Margo made a show of how she strong-armed her own boyfriend into assisting. Of course, David would have been forced to help anyway seeing as how he was Eric’s brother.
The house itself was a gorgeous one. Between his job and coming from wealthy parents, they probably could have just bought land and built their dream house from the ground up. Very few young couples were that fortunate.
Rowen had assured Eric it would just be a waste of money. She would be happiest with a house that had history. There was just something about a house with history. You could feel it. As a Greensmith, Rowen had those sensitivities that most people didn’t have. She could sense the happiness and the laughter. When a house had been a home, there was something that just changed inside of it.
The house they had decided on was old and lovely. Its white paint was peeling and the ceilings had some water damage, but that could be fixed. There were two stories of rooms, an attic, and a basement. The interior was spacious and full of warm, pleasant memories. Rowen could picture herself settling in there, and maybe even starting a family of their own.
Best of all, it wasn’t very far from the Greensmith house. That had served to pacify her family some. It was only a short drive off into the country, still well within the borders of Lainswich.
The moving day was a long one. Boxes and furniture were unloaded all day. There was a lot of drama over moving some of the bigger pieces upstairs. Eric and David refused to listen to reason, and spent the better part of two hours trying to negotiate a bed up a narrow flight of stairs before caving into the advice of literally everyone else and just dismantling it.
Aunt Lydia spent much of the day moping. When it became abundantly clear that the move was definitely happening, she made it her solemn duty to smudge the entire house. “To drive away evil spirits,” she explained, parading about with a stick of dried herbs.
The house still smelled very much like sage and sandalwood by the time everyone was gone. Rowen had offered to get dinner for the lot of them, but everyone had made excuses. They were all tired. It was just as well. All Rowen wanted to do was collapse into bed.
Unfortunately, their bed was still in dismantled pieces upstairs, so Rowen had to make do with just the mattress.
“What a day,” she said with a groan, flopping down without even taking her shoes off.
“It’s over and done with,” said Eric, stretching out beside her.
Rowen snorted at that. “Hardly,” she said. “There’s still a few days’ worth of unpacking to finish.”
“That’ll get done,” Eric assured her. �
��Eventually.”
Rowen chuckled at that. “When I moved back to Lainswich, I still had boxes packed from my last move. I’m not going to let that happen this time. Everything is getting unpacked this week.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “That’s ambitious. We’ll see how that goes.”
“This week,” Rowen repeated firmly.
“I think I might have work out of town that needs attending to,” said Eric, teasing. “Gotta do…business…stuff.”
“Nice try, Mr. Greensmith.” Rowen turned over and draped herself over her husband, pinning him. “You’re not going anywhere.” She loved this man, and she loved that he had taken her name—knowing how important it was to her family. She got the impression that his own family hadn’t much appreciated the break in tradition. Eric himself had always treated it like a non-issue, though. “You can take a day off if you need it,” she offered. “I know David wanted to hang out with you sometime soon.”
Eric rolled his eyes at that. “He just wants me to read that book of his.” David had written a book about the time he was, briefly, kidnapped during a crime involving Rowen’s family. With his family’s connections, he’d secured its publication and a nationwide release. It had since been edited a lot. According to David, it was nearly unrecognizable. Rowen had read his finished draft before the editing. Unrecognizable was for the best. “I’d rather unpack,” said Eric.
Rowen smiled. She had hoped he would spend the day with her. “It’s sort of exciting, isn’t it? This place is ours. All ours.”
“It’ll wear off,” Eric assured her. “You’ll be sick of making repairs in no time. You should have let me build us a brand new place. This is way too much of a fixer upper.”
Rowen knew he was still teasing her. He liked this house almost as much as she did—though, he probably would have been happy just about anywhere. She gave him a quick kiss before rocking up to her feet. “We should eat something,” she announced.
“Want me to go pick something up?” Eric asked, even though he looked very much like he would rather not stand. “Order a pizza or something?” It went unsaid that cooking was out of the question.
“No need,” said Rowen. “I think Aunt Nadine left us something home cooked.” Bless that woman. “She mentioned something about leaving it in the fridge. I’m not sure what it is, but I know I’m starving.”
Eric gave her a thumbs up. “Sounds good,” he said. “You go on. I’m…I’m right behind you.”
Rowen smirked. She wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep before he got around to coming downstairs. “Come on,” she said before heading from the room and down the stairs.
Sure enough, there was a big bowl full of chili in the fridge. Rowen was going to have to remember to thank her aunt more personally. She needed to properly thank everyone who had helped her move today. Before that, though, she needed to find some bowls.
Rowen was tempted to just eat out of the plastic leftover container, but she didn’t have any silverware either. It was a shame she hadn’t thought to just buy the disposable stuff she had used back when she had lived all on her lonesome. Searching was a pain. Rowen would have given just about anything not to have to be sorting through boxes right this moment.
The boxes were all labeled. Some of them had even been delivered to the correct rooms, but most were just stacked haphazardly wherever they had been unloaded. Rowen checked the kitchen first. Hopefully, someone had thought to leave the box with the dishes in it there.
Books, electronics, and a box marked with nothing but a row of question marks were in the kitchen. No dishes. Rowen was about to check the dining room when a loud thud made her jump. Startled, Rowen turned. “Eric?” she called. There was no answer. No surprise there. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. This was an old house. Those stairs made a considerable amount of noise when someone was on them.
Rowen turned her gaze, instead, to the sliding glass door on the other side of the island. It was dark out and difficult to see out into the back yard with the lights on in the house. Rowen ventured nearer to the door. It was locked. As far as she knew, their closest neighbors were half a mile away. Rowen cupped her hands on the glass and peered out.
There were the remnants of a garden out back. There was a little path and a little stone fountain and a garden shed. Rowen hoped to make something out of all that someday. Right now, all she could wonder was if there was someone out there. Much of Lainswich went back and forth on just how they felt about the Greensmiths. Rowen wouldn’t be surprised if some teenagers had gotten wind they were moving and were out there pranking them. Did kids today still toilet paper houses? Rowen was going to give Ben a call if a single egg was thrown. He was still the chief of police, and he didn’t have patience for Greensmiths being bullied. Especially now that he was dating her cousin, Rose.
Thirty seconds or so of peering out into the distance didn’t reveal any mischief. Rowen decided it must have been some kind of wild animal and was about to return to her search for dishes when the sound came again.
This time, Rowen saw the source of it. Something slammed into the glass at eye level and dropped back down to the asphalt. Rowen jumped, but her gaze followed the movement. She saw what it was, and her anxiety vanished.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, reaching to unlock the glass door and sliding it open without even thinking about it. “What are you doing here? You’re just a puppy.”
The dog that had been slamming its paws into the glass window most certainly was not a puppy. It was a full-grown black lab with some white around the muzzle that pointed to it being up there in years. All the same, with that tail wagging and how excited it looked when she stepped outside, it was a puppy to her.
“I didn’t see you out here,” said Rowen, kneeling down and scratching the dog behind one black, floppy ear. “What are you doing out here anyway, huh?” Now that she was at the dog’s level, she saw that it was quite thin. The poor thing looked malnourished. “Are you a stray?” It seemed awfully friendly for a stray. Rowen moved her fingers around his neck, but she didn’t feel a collar.
“Rowen?” Eric called. He seemed to spot her shortly after calling her name. “What are you doing?”
“I found a puppy,” she announced.
“You found a mutt,” Eric corrected. “You can’t just go around petting strange dogs. For all you know, he’s diseased and vicious.”
“I know he’s not vicious,” said Rowen, continuing to scratch as the dog kicked his leg madly.
“Diseased, then,” said Eric.
“Poor thing,” said Rowen. “He’s half starved.”
“We can call someone to pick him up,” said Eric.
Rowen shot him a look. “In the middle of the night? Come on…I’m getting him something to eat.”
“He shouldn’t eat people food,” said Eric.
Rowen ignored him and straightened up to head back inside. The dog managed to shoot past her. She nearly stumbled over him as he bolted between her legs and into the house. “Woah!”
Eric cursed and hurried after the dog. “Seriously?”
Rowen followed Eric, who was following the dog. The dog seemed to have no particular destination in mind. He ran from room to room. At the same time, it didn’t much seem like he was running away from them either. It was like he was looking for someone.
“Come here, you mutt.” Eric finally cornered the dog in the bathroom. He caught him by the scruff of the neck and held tight. “Shut the door,” he told Rowen.
Rowen entered the bathroom and shut the door, shutting them all up inside it. She sank to the floor in front of the dog. “What are you looking for, boy, huh?” she asked, taking his head in her hands. He had the sweetest brown eyes.
“He wasn’t looking for anything,” said Eric. “He’s just being a dumb dog. That’s what dumb dogs do.”
Rowen frowned at her husband. “Don’t be so mean. We’re getting a divorce tomorrow if you’re not a dog person.”
Eric cr
ossed his arms over his chest. He looked down at both of them. “I never really had time for pets growing up,” he said, shrugging. “We didn’t live in one place long enough to have one. I had a pet rock.”
“That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Rowen motioned for him to join her on the floor. “Pet him. You’re making him nervous.”
“No,” said Eric firmly. “I’m not getting attached to him, and you shouldn’t either. He needs to go back outside.”
Rowen didn’t believe he was going to make her shove the dog back outside for a minute. “It’s freezing out there.”
“It’s June.” Eric kept his arms crossed over his chest a few moments longer. Finally, he caved. “Fine,” he said, reaching down to give the dog an awkward sort of pat on the head. “But he has to sleep in the bathroom. And tomorrow we take him to—I don’t know—the pound, or whatever.”
Rowen looked back into the dog’s big, sweet brown eyes. “We should keep him,” she said.
“No,” said Eric flatly.
“You’re going to be away for business a lot of the time,” Rowen pointed out. “I need company.”
“I thought we were having dinner,” said Eric. “Can we get back to that? I wanted dinner.”
Rowen relented. Eric knew where the box with the dishes was, and they finally had their dinner. The dog got some too of course. Rowen had a feeling she could wear Eric down on the pet front. Twice, she caught him petting the dog when he didn’t think she was looking. He was trying not to let her get too attached to it, but this was a big house. They needed a pet and, despite Eric’s insistence that it might belong to someone, this dog was clearly without (and in need of) an owner.
Rowen considered it an auspicious sign that their little family here had gotten slightly bigger on their very first night. At the same time, there was another feeling she couldn’t quite shake. The way the dog had run around the house like he was searching for someone stayed with her. She kept revisiting it in her mind’s eye. It was like the dog had been searching for something or someone. Who or what, Rowen wasn’t sure.
