by Diana Orgain
“How are you holding up, Wanda?” she asked the dog, as the two of them had been sitting on a bench in the station for at least an hour since her interview had ended. The dog whined.
At last, Officer Joseph and his companions returned –but they didn’t look pleased. He entered the station shouting orders to the officers sitting at their desks. “I need an alert sent out to local news stations. I want Eleanor’s face on every station broadcasting in Wisteria Pines and the surrounding area. She’s on the run!”
Maeve shifted nervously as Joseph came over to her. “Eleanor is gone. We’ve got officers all over looking for her, but she’s ditched town. One of the officers who raided her home found an open jar of bleach powder. And from the look of things, she doesn’t normally keep her products from work at home. It’s starting to come together; the bleach powder is being sent to the lab to confirm it’s the same product used on Nadine. If that note you gave me didn’t make her look guilty, this sure did. Good job, Maeve, it looks like you busted her.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” Maeve asked.
“She was spotted five hours ago at the tavern,” Joseph said. “Reports state she was crying about her ex-husband to anyone who’d listen. The ex lives in El Dorado, so she may be heading over there. Anyway, she doesn’t have much of a head start on us. We’ll get her.”
Maeve yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Good. At least I’m in the clear now.”
Joseph looked contrite. “You need an escort home? I don’t want you to have to spend the night at the station.”
“No, I’m fine!” Maeve said. “Thank you for believing me, Joseph.”
Joseph smiled at her, and Wanda snorted. Joseph stared at the dog, then leaned over to pat her head, but Wanda retreated and stood behind Maeve. “I don’t think your dog likes me,” Joseph said.
“Too bad –because I do,” Maeve said, surprising herself at how flirtatious she sounded. Her cheeks turned red as she heard the words slip out of her mouth. “Well, I’m headed home,” she declared and put as much distance between herself and Joseph as possible. She and Wanda left the building and piled into her car.
She sat in the driver’s seat and gently banged her head against the steering wheel. She could feel Wanda staring at her.
That was such a weird thing to say, she silently scolded herself. You’re so lame! Why would you say that? Stupid! Stupid!
Maeve knew she was still incredibly hung up on Frank; she wished she could know what had happened to him. Get some closure. Instinctively, she reached for her phone, to check his social media accounts, but found she was too tired to face any bad news she knew she’d likely find there.
She sighed. “Tomorrow’s another day, right Wanda?”
She rested her forehead against the top of her steering wheel, and she suddenly felt Wanda’s head in her lap. She looked down. The dog’s snout was resting on her right thigh. “Thanks for being here for me, Wanda. You’re a good girl.”
Maeve took a breath, calming herself before starting the car. “It’s time to go home,” she declared and pulled out into the road.
She gazed out over the sleepy small town, there were a lot of stars illuminating the night sky. “You don’t get stars like this in LA,” she told Wanda. “I forgot how magical the countryside can be.”
Before long, she parked in her own driveway. Her front yard was overgrown with weeds, and she felt the sudden urge to garden. “I really need to get a push mower before this goes from unsightly to outright embarrassing and impossible. I don’t want the neighbors to complain! I’ll get right on it tomorrow. What do you think, girl?”
Wanda gave a short bark, as though to let her know she agreed. Maeve smiled. She hadn’t felt so listened to and supported in such a long time. It felt like she had finally found a home.
Together, Maeve and Wanda walked up to the front door. Maeve stuck her key into the lock, only to find the door unlocked.
Seriously? I could have sworn I locked the door ... I have to stop leaving my door unlocked or I’ll have a house full of strays.
Chapter Eleven
Maeve
Maeve noticed the energy in her house was different the second she stepped through the door, but it was too late.
The blow came suddenly, hard and unrelenting. An explosion of pain shot through Maeve’s jaw as she was knocked across the face with a cold metal object. She fell back, tumbling on top of Wanda, crying out.
She shrieked and grabbed her bloody chin, scrambling away from the dark figure lumbering over her.
“Get up,” the woman hissed.
Maeve recognized the voice. It was Eleanor. Worse, the woman had a gun pointed in Maeve’s direction.
Maeve stood, her knees barely able to hold her weight. Wanda jumped in front of her, and growled, baring her teeth. Her legs were taut, and her tail straight in the air; guard dog protection mode in full force.
Maeve held up both hands. “Don’t shoot me,” she pleaded.
Eleanor snarled. “The police are snooping around my house and salon, thanks to you.”
“No ... I ...” Maeve stuttered.
“Don’t deny it,” Eleanor screeched. “I saw you! I saw you go into the police station a few hours ago. I know you’ve been talking to people and poking around. Sticking your stupid nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Maeve’s eyes darted around for her phone.
Where was it?
Had she left it in the car? She fought the impulse to reach for her back pocket and prayed it hadn’t fallen out when she tripped over Wanda. She had to keep Eleanor calm or distracted. She needed to buy some time to get to help.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Maeve asked.
Eleanor let out a disgusted grunt. “Do you realize what I’ve been through? James told me we could be together—my husband left me over the affair, and I was fine with it because I thought James and I were going to be ... But then he tried to hush it up because he didn’t want to lose a stupid election over our relationship. He left me too! Now I’m alone because he promised me the world and delivered nothing.” Eleanor shook her head, her anger faded for a moment when she said, “Nadine wasn’t supposed to die. She was a good person. She mixed up her and James’s drinks.”
“You tried to kill the mayor to get back at him for leaving you.” Maeve said. “Look, Eleanor, I know how you feel. My fiancé left me. That’s why I came to Wisteria Pines, okay? But this isn’t right, and you know it. Now because of your anger, Nadine is dead. And she didn’t deserve that.”
“You’re right. She didn’t. And I feel awful about Nadine, but I’m not going to feel awful about this,” she raised the gun toward Maeve. “Don’t you try to manipulate me!” Eleanor hissed, cocking the gun.
Maeve cried out, “No!”
Wanda let loose a howl that shook the room. Blue swirls erupted all around them. The gun jolted out of Eleanor’s hand and zoomed up to the ceiling like a super magnet had yanked it out of her hand.
“What the—” Eleanor said, as she too was jolted just as violently and swiftly as the gun across the room by the blue, swirling glitter-like aura that had burst forth from Wanda’s loud bark.
Maeve stumbled and landed on her rear beside the dog, whose hair was standing on end. The dog’s eyes glowed a bluish color, and Maeve looked up toward Eleanor in time to see her flying across the room like a rag doll thrown by an angry child–catapulting her through the living room and into the small kitchen area, crashing into the cabinets and bouncing onto the tile floor.
And just like that, the blue swirls vanished, Wanda’s hair stopped standing on end, and everything was quiet, apart from a slight moan coming from Eleanor.
Maeve looked up to see the gun still glued to the ceiling. Her jaw dropped.
“Wanda?” she questioned, and the gun abruptly fell and landed on her couch.
A rush of relief close to joy, overwhelmed Maeve, and she giggled, “You little witch!”
From the kitchen, Eleanor mo
aned again. Maeve sprang to action, yanking at her back pocket, only to find her cell phone absent. She raced across the room and grabbed her home phone. She punched the numbers: 911, and cried out in relief to hear the operator ask the nature of her emergency.
“Eleanor Delany is in my house! The police are looking for her. She’s armed and she tried to shoot me!”
“Alright miss. Are you at 717 Cherry Blossom Road? I can send a patrol car.”
“Yes, that’s my address. Eleanor is hurt though. She, um, she’s knocked out in my kitchen, um ...” Maeve couldn’t bring herself to explain what she had seen.
What do I say? I think I’m a witch and so is my dog?
“Please. And send an ambulance for Eleanor too,” Maeve said.
The police and paramedics arrived on scene in less than two minutes. Joseph was among them. As the police came bursting into the house, Eleanor came to.
She sat up in the kitchen, rubbing at the back of her head. She took stock of her surroundings then began screaming like a lunatic. “The dog! The dog! That dog! Get me away from that devil dog!”
Joseph took over, directing the paramedic to subdue Eleanor. She was placed on a stretcher and taken outside to the ambulance. The other officers swarmed Maeve’s house, noting the busted kitchen cabinets, picking up strands of hair, and gathering evidence.
Maeve collapsed onto the couch. Wanda trotted over to her and leapt into her lap. Maeve nuzzled into Wanda’s fur, as Joseph came to sit next to her.
“How did you manage to knock Eleanor out?” Joseph asked.
“Um ...” Maeve hesitated. She looked at Wanda who shook her head ‘no.’ Maeve looked at Joseph. “Yeah, um, she pulled a gun on me, and I guess my adrenaline just took over.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right,” he said with a smile. “And now that we’ve got Eleanor, you can stop worrying. I’m sorry I ever suspected you–it’s may be easier to blame the stranger, but that doesn’t make it right. It’s hard to imagine that any of the people we’ve known all our lives could have hurt a sweet girl like Nadine. But I want you to know you’re welcome here in Wisteria Pines, Maeve.”
“Thank you,” Maeve said. “I’m happy to put all this behind me. Now, I can focus on getting my café Listen: It’s Old Fashioned open.”
Joseph smiled, faint creases appearing around his eyes, making him even more handsome to Maeve. “I heard about that. When you open, sign me up for one of those open-mic nights Gracie’s been talking about.”
“You sing?” Maeve asked.
“A little,” he said with a slight blush. “I dabble on the guitar a little too.”
Maeve grinned. “Really? You know, you should have opened with that.”
He laughed and put out a hand to ruffle Wanda’s fur. The dog yanked her head away. Joseph pointed a finger at the dog. “All right, Wanda, challenge accepted. I’m going to win you over.”
Chapter Twelve
Chuck
Two Weeks Later
“You sure do love this show, huh, Wanda?” Maeve touches the top of my head and scratches me behind my ears. I wag my tail to let her know I’m enjoying her company while watching Jenny Loves Charlie on this lazy Friday morning on her couch. The past couple of weeks have been even more hectic and full of distractions than when she was trying to solve that murder. When she hasn’t been working on her café, she’s been at the local station. She pretends it’s to give her statement, but I know she’s really enjoying visiting that officer guy.
Which irks me and makes my doggie booty twitch.
Maeve’s kept her mouth shut about my little display of magic—honestly, I had no idea I was capable of something like that. I’ve tried to attempt it again on days when Maeve leaves me at the house to work on the café (which is rare), but I haven’t been able to replicate such a feat again. Maybe it was a onetime thing? Who knows?
With Maeve as distracted as she has been with her café, I haven’t been able to get enough attention from her to find a way to explain my situation. There is nothing more annoying than living with a witch who has no idea how powerful she is, but truthfully? I’m enjoying being Maeve’s dog.
I know, weird, right?
But she’s fun, and I know as soon as I’m myself again, it’s going to be weird. I mean, how will she react when she realizes she’s been giving belly rubs and spilling her heart out to a guy who just decided to stick around in dog form?
Female dog form.
That last part has made me have to listen to a number of female empowerment speeches spew out of Maeve and Gracie’s lips, but I’m getting used to it. You can only hear, “Us girls have got to stick together,” so many times before it makes you want to barf—especially when it’s directed at you, a man. I know I have to find a way to explain myself to her if I’m ever going to be myself again, but today, that’s not going to happen. Why? Because tonight is the opening night of Listen: It’s Old Fashioned.
Another episode of Jenny Loves Charlie comes on, and Maeve hops up. “Okay, Wanda, I have to start getting ready.”
So soon?
I sigh because I know she’s going to be leaving me here, and I don’t really blame her. It’s opening night of her café, so she doesn’t want to have to worry about a dog. Not that I’ve ever given her any reason to feel like she has to watch me, but tonight is pretty important to her. She grabs the outfit she plans to change into tonight and drapes it over the back of the couch.
“Hmm, maybe that other outfit would work better—” she starts to say, and I bury my face into her throw pillow. I swear, I’ve had to listen to her for the past week debate with herself over what outfit she’s going to wear opening night. She has literally tried on every single article of clothing in her closet, and we even had to go sit at Gracie’s house for two hours while she tried on half of that woman’s clothes too!
And you know what is really annoying? She picked the first stupid thing she tried on day one! I whine as I hide my face, and I hear Maeve laugh.
“You’re right. I’m over thinking it. Thank you, Wanda,” she says, patting my head.
Currently she is in some tight yoga pants—yummy—and an old band t-shirt, as she will be working at the café putting up all the finishing touches with Gracie for what will be the entire day. It’s only eight in the morning right now, and the café opens tonight at six for the first time. It’s going to be a long day for her, and I’m kind of glad I have to stay here—though, a part of me would love to see that café full of people tonight and see how happy Maeve is sure to be.
She finishes throwing a few things into a cardboard box, and runs down a check list in her head. “I think that’s everything?” she questions herself.
My ears stand on end as I hear arguing just outside. Maeve hears it too, and she opens the door to see Gracie and her niece, Penny, going round and round.
“What’s up!” Maeve calls out to them, and suddenly a familiar black cat darts into the house and over to me.
“Hey, Wanda!” Ugh, it’s Fuzzball. I ignore her.
“Um ...” Maeve questions. “What’s the cat doing here?”
“That’s what we’re arguing about. Penny hid her in the backseat of my truck, and I didn’t realize it until we pulled in your driveway,” Gracie grumbles as she enters into the house. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to go back to my sister’s and drop off the stupid cat. I’ll meet you at the café later. Oh, Penny, you’re unbelievable!”
“But Tonya wanted to come to opening night too!” Penny lets out this loud, obnoxious whimper like not bringing her cat to a coffee shop is the end of the world as she knows it.
“You know what?” Maeve says, running into the kitchen. “I think I still have that kitty litter around here somewhere. And I have that dog food Wanda refuses to eat. Dog and cat food is pretty much the same, right?”
“Is it salmon flavored?” Penny asked.
Maeve looks confused for a second. “No ... chicken, I think.”
I can’t h
elp myself. Chicken, yeah right. I snort, and Maeve flashes me a dirty look.
“You can leave the cat here with Wanda,” Maeve says. And when I bury my face with my paws, she adds, “They seem to get along pretty well. You don’t have to drive all the way back to your sister’s house, Gracie.”
“Thanks,” Gracie says with a more than a hint of relief in her voice.
I scowl, but the women ignore me.
“Looks like we’re going to be roomies today,” says the cat.
I give her a good nudge right off the couch.
The two women and Penny talk giddily about the café and what all they have to get done before the opening tonight. Before I know it, Maeve is patting my head and telling me to be good to Tonya before darting out the door with a, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave your favorite show on for you, Wanda,” laughing hysterically as she says it.
“What’s on the T.V., Wanda?” the cat asks.
“Shut up, Fuzzball,” I say.
“My name is Tonya,” she retorts. “You’re so rude, Wanda.”
“Stop calling me Wanda,” I warn. If I can tell someone that’s not my name, then you better believe I’m going to. “It’s Chuck. Call me that, or don’t call me anything at all.”
“You’re weird. What kind of name is that for a girl?”
I don’t bother trying to explain myself to this cat again. I think I’m a little above arguing with a house pet. Instead of speaking, we watch another episode of Jenny Loves Charlie while I occasionally growl at the show’s leading lady–I can’t stand her. The show would have been ten times better without her. I swear, I growl every time that woman comes on the screen. There’s a marathon on today, thankfully, so I know how I plan to spend my day today if I can’t go to the café.
Half an hour later, a lovely half hour of silence between me and Fuzzball, the show ends, and I ready myself for another episode. We spend the entire day watching reruns, and sometimes Fuzzball ventures to speak, only to ask a question about the show. Honestly, I don’t mind answering her questions. I love this show. I could watch it over and over again, and before long, I’ve made Fuzzball into a fan.
