Grave Consequences

by Lena Gregory

  Small. All white fur, smooth and silky. A leather, gem-encrusted collar circled her neck with a tag hanging front and center. The dog was obviously well cared for, so what was the problem?

  Cass was the last person anyone would come to for dog-rearing advice, as evidenced by the smirk Bee currently sported. “Is this behavior unusual?”

  “Oh, yes.” The woman fished a small package of tissues from her bag, wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, and blew her nose. Then she took a clean tissue and wiped the small trickle of blood that had started from the bite mark on her wrist. “I don’t know what to do. I’m beside myself. Henrietta is usually so well behaved, has the utmost perfect manners—as well she should, after the astronomical amount of money I spent on all the best trainers. I have always been able to take her anywhere, but since we’ve arrived on Bay Island, she’s been this . . . this . . . monster.”

  Henrietta continued to pace, head down, peering up at her surroundings from beneath a white veil of fur that had fallen in front of her eyes.

  “Have you tried calling one of her trainers to see if they can offer advice? Some trainers offer that as part of the training package.” At least, Herb did. She should know. His number was on speed dial right below the groomer.

  A sudden realization hit Cass. What would happen if Beast got this out of control? She tried to blow it off; Beast was too kind to ever act this way, but didn’t Henrietta’s owner seem shocked by her behavior as well? Henrietta had already nipped the woman twice, had drawn blood the second time. Cass made a mental note to contact Herb right away for a training session. “Okay, first things first. What is your name, ma’am?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m Helen Monroe.” She reached across the counter, keeping a wary eye on the dog, and shook Cass’s hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Now.” Cass took a deep shuddering breath and willed her erratic heart rate to slow. “What are you hoping I can do for you?”

  “Everyone in town talks about how wonderful you are, how caring and kind. They also say you possess actual psychic abilities.”

  Uh-oh. Cass had a sinking feeling she knew where this was going. Not sure what to say, she remained quiet.

  “Well, I’ve heard of pet psychics, so I figure you can talk to Henrietta and figure out what’s wrong with her.”

  Bee laughed out loud, no doubt imagining an image of Cass as she’d looked after Beast had taken off for a frolic in the bay that very morning.

  Henrietta spread her front legs wide, crouched low, stared at Bee, and growled deep in her throat.

  Bee rocked onto the chair’s back legs and folded his hands across his stomach.

  Searching for a way to explain to Helen that she wasn’t that kind of a psychic, Cass stepped a little too close to Henrietta.

  The dog whirled on her faster than Cass would have thought possible and lunged.

  Cass managed to dance out of the way just in time to avoid getting bit. Thanks to Beast’s penchant for knocking things over when he got excited, Cass’s reflexes had improved since she’d gotten him.

  Bee dropped the chair back onto all four legs and sat forward. All former signs of amusement fled in the instant the dog had turned on her.

  Her heart swelled. Her savior. Always ready to jump to her defense.

  “It’s okay, Bee.” She read people for a living, and she could usually tell what Beast needed, if he was hungry or wanted to play or go for a walk or snuggle. How different could this be? She turned to Helen. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never tried anything like this before, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

  “Wait.” Bee held up a hand. “What?”

  Helen breathed a sigh of relief, and her rigid posture slumped a bit. “Oh, thank you.”

  “And if I can’t help you, I can give you the name of a great trainer right here on Bay Island.”

  “Thank you. Yes, that would be perfect, though I’m confident if I can figure out what’s bothering Henrietta, and give her what she wants, the problem will be solved.”

  Cass refrained from saying too much; giving Henrietta what she wants might very well be the problem.

  Bee cleared his throat but remained silent.

  Cass studied the dog, careful to stay well out of striking distance. “You said she’s been like this since you arrived on Bay Island?”

  “Yes.” Helen frowned. “Not barking and growling all the time, but agitated. She paces, sleeps very restlessly, barks at people. She’s usually very friendly, loves the attention people shower on her.”

  “Is this your first visit to Bay Island?”

  “Oh, no. We’ve been coming here for about three years now. And Henrietta always loves it. She’s such a tiny, polite little thing that I’m able to take her wherever I go.”

  Hard to tell.

  Bay Island was very pet-friendly, and Cass often took Beast places with her, but because of his size, some places were off-limits, while smaller dogs would pretty much be allowed anywhere that didn’t serve food. “And she was fine last time you came?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you stay in the same place?”

  “Oh, yes, that adorable little bed-and-breakfast down at the end of the boardwalk.” She gestured over her shoulder.

  Cass knew the place. It sat right at the end of the boardwalk with access to the beach. A peaceful place, far enough out of town to be quiet most of the time. “How was she on the ferry?”

  “Sweet as pie.”

  You’d never guess that from watching her pace, but Cass believed the owner was being completely honest and not wearing blinders where Henrietta was concerned—much as Cass had initially when it had come to getting Beast trained.

  “Do you think you can help her?” She took out another tissue, twisted it into a ball.

  “When did you first notice the change in her behavior?”

  “Hmm.” She scowled as she looked back into the past. “I guess, I’d say after we got the car off the ferry and headed into town.”

  “When was that?”

  “Two days ago.”

  “What did you do while you were waiting for the car to be unloaded?”

  “I don’t know.” She lifted her hands to the sides and sighed. “Walked around, I guess.”

  “Please, humor me.” The last thing she wanted to do was frustrate Helen even further, but without knowing where she was headed, she had to fish around for somewhere to start. “Since Henrietta can’t speak for herself, I have to depend on you to speak for her.”

  The wind chimes over the door sounded, and Luke walked in. Seeing her with a customer, he waved and headed for the back corner where Bee sat.

  “Yes, yes. Of course. I’m sorry.” Pressing the tattered tissue against her eyes, she sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “I’m just frazzled by all of this.”

  “Don’t worry. I understand.” If anyone understood frustration with a pet, it was Cass.

  Helen took a moment to compose herself, then started off with new determination. “Okay. We got off the ferry and walked around down by the pier, shopped a little, picked up the treats Henrietta likes from that cute little shop down there.”

  Allergies, maybe? “She’s had the treats before?”

  “Oh, yes, all the time.”

  “Did you feed her anything new?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  So much for that theory. “Okay, so what’d you do after the pet shop?”

  “I stopped in the bookstore and picked up a couple of things to read while at the beach then went to the car.”

  “And you went straight to the bed-and-breakfast from there?”

  She frowned. “Yes. Um. I stuffed Henrietta’s old collar into the pet shop bag and reached for her, and she shied away. She’d never done that before, but I figured maybe I’d just startled her.”

  Cass held up a hand. “Wait. Why did you take off her collar?”

  “Oh.” Helen beamed. “Because I got her this new one with her birthstones on it. Isn’t it beautiful
?”

  Cass studied the red stones studding the collar. “She was born in January?”

  “Yes.” Helen’s smile slipped. “How did you know?”

  Cass started to reach for the collar.

  Henrietta backed away with a growl, and Cass yanked her hand back.

  “It’s okay, girl. I’m not going to hurt you,” she soothed. “January’s birthstone is garnet. In ancient times, some believed gazing at a red garnet could lead to passion or anger. Not that she can see the stones, but they are encircling her neck. Where’s her old collar?”

  Helen pulled out a collar ringed with pink stones.

  “Ah, rose quartz, a much better choice for Henrietta, I think. Would you mind changing it?”

  “Seriously?” Helen studied her for a moment.

  Luke and Bee both sat up straighter, suspending their conversation to watch her.

  “Please, humor me?”

  Helen shrugged but did as Cass asked. Unbuckling the new collar, while dodging nips, she petted Henrietta’s head and uttered soothing nonsense sounds. She handed the collar to Cass and hooked the old one into place.

  Cass studied the collar, running her fingers over the stones.

  Henrietta sat and watched her, head tilted.

  “Is that any better, girl?” Cass asked.

  Henrietta licked her lips and slid her back end out until she was laying on the counter. She propped her head on her front legs.

  “I don’t believe it.” Helen stared back and forth between Cass and Henrietta.

  Cass turned the collar over and over in her hands, studying Henrietta and waiting for any sign of agitation. “Is it okay if I pet you now?”

  The little dog’s ears perked up, and she lifted her head.

  Taking her time, so as not to startle Henrietta, Cass reached out a hand and petted her silky head.

  Henrietta tilted her head into Cass’s hand and all but purred.

  “There you go. That’s so much better, isn’t it?”

  Henrietta rolled onto her back and bared her belly for Cass to pet.

  Laughing, she continued to pet a much different animal than had first come out of Helen’s bag. “You really are a good girl, aren’t you.”

  Helen’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “Huh. Unbelievable.”

  Cass started to set the collar aside, and something sharp poked her finger. “Ouch.”

  A small spot of blood blossomed, and she grabbed a tissue to blot it.

  “What happened?” Helen asked.

  Bee and Luke both stood.

  Cass pulled the collar closer and studied its surface. She turned it over and ran a finger slowly along the inside. A jagged point caught her finger. “It’s broken here. See?”

  Helen took the collar from her and inspected the damage where the underneath part of the buckle had broken apart, leaving a sharp edge. “You think it was poking her?”

  “From where it’s broken, I’d say there’s a good chance it’s been digging into her, maybe not all the time, but at least when she moved certain ways.”

  “Oh, my poor baby. Mommy’s so sorry I didn’t realize you were hurting.” Helen scooped Henrietta up and snuggled her close. Then she lowered her to the counter and dug through the fur around her neck searching for damage. She held the fur parted for Cass to see the scratches crisscrossing her neck. “Do you think it’ll be okay?”

  “I think so, but I can give you the number of a great vet if you’d like to have her checked out and see if she needs antibiotics or anything.” Cass dug out the doc’s card and handed it to Helen. It wasn’t like Cass needed it, since she had the vet’s number on speed dial right ahead of the groomer and Herb Cox, thanks to Beast’s fondness for eating things he shouldn’t.

  “Oh, thank you.” Helen punched the number into her phone but stopped short of hitting Send, then dropped the card into her bag.

  Cass pulled one of Beast’s treats from the bin she kept beneath the counter and broke it into pieces for Henrietta. She put the pieces on a paper towel and set them in front of her and petted her head. “You’re a good girl, right, Henrietta? You were just hurting.”

  “Oh, my. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.” Helen rummaged through the bottomless bag and whipped out a small stack of bills.

  Cass held up a hand in protest. “There’s no charge for today. I’m just glad I was able to help her.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I am so grateful. I will be sure to recommend you to everyone I know.”

  “Thank you so much. Recommendations are always appreciated.” Cass handed Helen one of her business cards from a small holder beside the register. “And if you wouldn’t mind, could you let me know what the vet says and how Henrietta’s doing a little later?”

  “Of course, thank you.” Cass’s card went into the bottomless bag with everything else. “You know what? While I’m here, could I make an appointment to come in for a reading? If you’re this good with animals, I can’t imagine how you are with people.”

  Bee’s mouth fell open.

  A smile tugged at Cass when she imagined walking over to him, propping a finger beneath his chin, and pushing his mouth closed. Definitely not with a customer in the shop, though. Next time. If there was a next time. Bee had a remarkable knack for being right about people, and Cass’s track record with training an animal was admittedly less than stellar. Though in her defense, Beast was the first pet she’d ever owned, so there had to be a learning curve.

  Cass sighed, pulled out her appointment book, and opened it. “I’d love to do a reading for you. How long will you be here?”

  The door opened again, and Tank walked in. Seeing Luke and Bee at the table, he waved to Cass in greeting and crossed the shop to join them.

  Helen laid her hand over Cass’s. “Oh, look at how happy she is. You truly are a miracle worker.”

  “Four . . . take him . . . four . . . him . . . four . . .” The woman’s voice came out of nowhere, her fear palpable, shattering any shield that might have been protecting Cass from the onslaught. “Take him . . . must . . . four, four, four.”

  Myriad other voices competed for attention but none as insistent as that one.

  A tremor tore through Cass. Him? Was the dog in danger? Helen didn’t seem abusive toward it. If anything, she doted excessively. Besides, Henrietta was female. Nothing to do with her then. Someone else had garnered this spirit’s fear. Someone who might be in danger. Him?

  She studied Bee, Luke, and Tank. Could one of them be in trouble?

  “Are you okay?” Helen held Henrietta close.

  “Oh. Yes. Sorry. I just zoned out for a minute.” With her hands shaking, Cass booked an appointment for Helen to come in for her reading. She also handed her a pamphlet with information about her next group reading over the weekend. “I’d love to see you there.”

  “I’ll definitely be there. Thank you again, Cass.”

  “I’m just glad I could help.” She petted Henrietta again. “You be a good girl now, and I hope you feel better, little one.”

  Henrietta tilted her head into Cass’s hand and licked her wrist.

  As Helen walked out, Luke, Tank and Bee approached the counter.

  Bee looked after Helen and Henrietta. “You know, that was really impressive.”

  “Thanks, Bee, but it was really just intuition.” She hadn’t dared open herself up, not that it had stopped someone from getting through. A woman. And she was terrified.

  “Yeah, well, you might want to give some of that intuition a try next time Beast decides to take a dip in the bay.”

  The fact that Tank and Luke laughed cued her in that Bee had already shared the morning’s unfortunate incident with the two.

  “Help him . . . take him . . . help him . . .”

  Needing something to do, lest any of the trio realize how badly she was trembling, Cass pulled out a bottle of cleaner, her hands slick with sweat, and sprayed it over the counter. She wiped it down with paper towels, brus
hing the crumbs from Henrietta’s snack into the garbage pail, all the while hoping the two detectives and her closest friend, who normally didn’t miss a thing, didn’t notice how badly shaken she was.

  “Are you all right, Cass?” Concern shone from the depths of Luke’s deep blue eyes, the intensity of which could normally set her ablaze in an instant.

  Right now, she just wanted all three of them to leave so she could figure out who was trying to contact her and why. “I am, thank you.”

  “Okay, good. First, I have to tell you we had no luck finding anything at the house this morning.” He studied her another moment to be sure she understood what he was talking about. Apparently, someone had moved the figure between the time Cass had left, which he’d told her to do immediately, and the time the police had arrived.

  Then he dropped the folded newspaper he’d had tucked under his arm onto the counter and tapped the front page with one finger. “Maybe you’d like to explain this.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cass read the headline, Voices Assail Local Psychic as Man Plunges to His Death, three times before she finally looked up at Luke. “Oh. Uh.”

  “You do remember that conversation we had about not painting a target on your back, right?” He folded his arms across his chest, obviously waiting for an answer Cass didn’t have. “The one where you promised you wouldn’t say anything to anyone about what you saw up there?”

  What could she say? Instead of answering what she viewed as a rhetorical question, Cass skimmed the article.

  “Did you get to the good part yet?” Bee propped a hand on one hip and leaned against the counter.

  Cass tried not to squirm beneath the three pairs of eyes weighing on her as she read. “According to local resident Emma Nicholls . . .”

  Oh, boy.

  “Local psychic Cass Donovan, who later tried to revive the victim, suffered under a barrage of voices in the minutes before Fred DiCarlo was pushed to his death.” She gasped and her gaze shot to Luke. “Pushed? It was confirmed?”

  He swiped a hand over his goatee. “The ME confirmed Fred had an antemortem injury to the back of his head, consistent with being hit with a blunt object. Since most of his injuries were sustained on the front of his head and body, we’re assuming that one came before he went out the window.”