Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 02 - A Spirited Tail (8 page)

***

Pandora glanced up at Willa and Striker, her whiskers twitching in disdain. Didn’t they know lips were for helping to pull the fur off mice?  She turned her attention back to Ranger, ignoring the strange noises the two humans were making.

“You really should eat, you know. You won’t be able to keep your strength up.”

“Why would I need strength? I lost my master and now I have no one and no purpose.”

Pandora let out a sigh. She was finding Ranger’s doldrums to be quite tiresome. “Well, you could get a new master.”

“Who would want me? I couldn’t save my old master. Certainly no one will want a dog like that.”

Ahhh, so that’s the problem
, Pandora thought. Ranger just needed a little boost of confidence. And she’d have to be the one to give it to him, otherwise he might never find another home and she sure as heck didn’t want him spending the rest of his days in hers.  Not that he was that bad … he was tolerable. But she was set in her ways and used to having Willa to herself.  

“Maybe you couldn’t keep your master from being murdered, but you still might be able to help him.”

Ranger picked his head up off the floor and eyed her skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“You could help find his killer and make sure he’s brought to justice.”  

“How would I do that?”

Pandora rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten dogs were used to being led around on leashes by humans. She realized they must have a hard time thinking for themselves, which meant
she’d
have to do all the brain work and let Ranger think it was his idea. 

She picked up her paw, licking the pink, callused pads underneath. “I guess you would do what humans do … visit the scene of the crime and look for clues.”

The golden fur in between Ranger’s eyes ruffled together and Pandora could see he was giving it great thought. 

“What kind of clues?”

Pandora let out an exasperated sigh. Would she have to do
everything
? 

“I’ll help you look. Do you think you can show me where the special house is?” While Pandora wanted to help the dog get out of his funk, the truth was she also wanted to check out this ‘special house’. She was filled with curiosity about it. And also about the murder. Something told her she’d best keep close tabs on the situation and Ranger seemed to have the most information.

“I might be able to,” Ranger said cautiously. He wondered if he could trust the cat … he’d heard they could be furtive and sneaky. But the idea of avenging his master’s death appealed to him and he wasn’t sure to go about it on his own.

“Good.” Pandora nodded toward the bowl Willa had filled with dog food. “Then you should try to eat something … you may need the energy.”

***

Pandora knew Ranger wouldn’t be able to fit through the cat door, so later that night after the humans had gone upstairs, she took him through her secret escape route in the basement. He barely fit through the loose board that led into the root cellar—where Willa never went—and almost didn’t make it out the narrow tunnel Pandora had spent all of last summer digging. 

At first, he wasn’t sure of which direction to go, but once Pandora got him to focus, he honed in on the special place and they trotted off up the mountain.

“I really miss my master, but Willa seems nice,” Ranger said as they ran through the woods, using the stars as navigation points. “Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seemed yesterday.”

Pandora slid her eyes over toward him, her whiskers twitching. She was glad the dog was coming out of his funk, but not glad enough to want to share her home with him. Or her human.  Sure, he might come in handy for blaming things on, but she doubted Willa would believe he was the one that threw up a hairball on her new bedspread or left the headless mouse on the porch.

“Willa is nice, but you need a new master, not mistress,” Pandora said.

“I don’t deserve either.” He stopped and sniffed the air. “The special place is up ahead.”

They spilled out of the woods and Pandora paused at the edge of the yard. A large brick house loomed in the distance and a variety of smells hovered in the air. 

“Wait here,” she said. 

Pandora sniffed the air. Slinking low on her belly, she skirted the edge of the yard, moving in circles closer and closer to the house. The cloying smell of death lingered, but it wasn’t strong.  She smelled anger, fear, greed and betrayal. But none of that was here now. Satisfied that no other souls, human or otherwise, were in the yard or the house, she signaled for Ranger to join her.

“This is where it happened.” Ranger stopped in a spot behind the house where the tall grass had been trampled down. Pandora could smell many humans, their scents and emotions intermingled, making it impossible to single out that of the killer or Ranger’s former master. If she had been able to, she might have at least gotten a clue as to if Bruce knew his killer or the emotions surrounding the murder.  

She glanced at the large house which loomed over them, silhouetted by the full moon. Her whiskers tingled. The hairs on her back stood up with static electricity. 

Something important was in that house. 

Not something to do with the murder, though. This was something bigger than that—this had to do with her purpose of helping the humans keep the scales of good and evil balanced on the side of good.

Should she go in?  A quick glance at the house told her there would be many ways she could slip inside, but she had no idea what to look for. Better to wait and seek advice from the others of her kind.

She turned to Ranger. “Why is this house special?”

“I’m not sure.” Ranger’s eyes clouded over. “Master used to take me for walks here all the time. I could feel he thought it was special. He told me he used to come here when people lived here. Good times.”

“But he never said why it was special?”

“No, but I could feel it.  The house and the special thing he had at home.”

Special thing at home? Pandora narrowed her eyes at the dog. How many ‘special things’ did his master have? She wondered if the special thing at home was related to whatever it was she sensed in the house. She would have to see if Ranger could take her there and show her.

“You lived nearby?” she asked.

“Yes.” Ranger looked off to the west, his eyes moist.

“Can you take me there and show me the special thing?”

Ranger whined, nodded his head and started off to the west. Pandora remembered the reason they’d come—she still needed to help him solve the murder or he might never find a new master. “Not yet. First tell me what you remember from that night your master was killed.”

“I followed the rabbit smells. Master lets me off the leash here when we come. There are rabbits that live here. I heard the voices, but I was chasing the rabbits.” Ranger’s ears lowered and he looked at the ground, his head hanging. “When I came back, Master was laying on the ground. I licked his face, but he did not move. I smelled death.”

Pandora nodded sympathetically. “And you never saw the other man?”

Ranger shook his head, his eyes still cast downward.

“Did you stay with your master the whole time?”

Ranger frowned. “No. I followed the man’s scent in two directions, but I did not find him. Then I came back and stayed with Master.”

“Two directions?” Pandora wondered why the man would have gone in two directions. Wouldn’t he have killed Bruce and run away?  She assumed he had a car so one of the directions would have been the driveway, but what was the other? “Show me which directions.”

Ranger nodded toward the front of the house. “That way.”

“The driveway. He probably drove away in a car.”

Ranger nodded. He’d already figured that out on his own. Then he jerked his head toward the woods on the other side of the road. “And that way.”

Pandora squinted at the woods. Why would the man go over there?  She could think of only one reason.

“Can you still follow his scent?” she asked.

Ranger sniffed at the ground. He walked around the trampled area in a circle his nose twitching as he tried to pick up the scent. “Maybe. It’s not strong, but I will try.”

“Good, let’s see where he went in the woods. I think it might help us find out who it was.”

Ranger’s ears perked up and he sniffed even harder, leading Pandora up the road and into the woods to an area near the shallow river. They didn’t have to go far before a coppery odor flooded Pandora’s senses. Blood. 

They both stopped, Pandora honing in on the origin of the blood smell and Ranger sniffing in circles to pick up the trail.

“This is where his scent trail ends, isn’t it?” she asked Ranger.

“I think so.”

Pandora knew why. The murder weapon was here somewhere. She could sense that people had been here searching and assumed it was the police. They’d looked for the murder weapon but not found it and she knew why. It was buried, right beneath where she was standing, cleverly covered up with leaves and forest debris so no one would notice the ground had been dug up. She herself wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t smelled it with her finely tuned senses. It was no wonder the police had not discovered it. 

“Help me dig here.” She pointed to a spot in the ground and Ranger used his powerful claws to dig.  He didn’t have to go far before he hit something—a heavy piece of white-painted wood that looked like it came from one of Van Dorn’s porch columns.

“Hold it.” The blood smell was stronger and Pandora could see the dirt caked on one end of it along with something that looked like it had been sticky—blood.

Ranger sniffed and started to whine. “Master!”

“You did well,” Pandora said to him.

“I did?”

“You found the murder weapon. This will help the police find the killer of your master.” 

Ranger’s ears perked up and he held his head high. “Good dog?”

“Yep.” Pandora answered. “Now that we have that taken care of, can you take me to where you lived and show me the special thing your master had?”

“Woof!” Ranger started back toward the house with a spring in his step.

Pandora followed him, glancing back at the partially uncovered column. She was sure it had been used to kill Bruce Norton and probably held a clue as to the killer’s identity. But, the police had already searched here and she doubted they’d be back, which left her with only one solution. Somehow, she was going to have to lure Willa into these woods so she could discover the weapon and hand it over to the police.

Chapter Eight

I woke up wondering about the murder weapon. Striker wouldn’t tell me what exactly it was, but obviously, Bruce had been hit on the back of the head. Striker alluded to the fact that the blow had killed Bruce, so I imagined it must have been something large and heavy. A shovel, baseball bat, or board maybe? Not that I was trying to solve Bruce’s murder … I had enough problems trying to solve Van Dorn’s.

I made it in to the bookstore early so I could get a jump-start on inventorying some new books.  Ranger listlessly sniffed the purple sofa and chairs, then curled up in a corner.  He seemed incredibly tired and still a little depressed, but I took solace in the fact that he’d eaten a little bit of the food in his bowl and had at least sniffed the furniture—maybe he was starting to feel better.  

I slipped behind the counter and Pandora jumped up on it, taking an unusual interest in the blue and white stoneware mug that held my pens and pencils. She sniffed the sides, then stuck her face into the middle, pushed the pens aside and sniffed some more. Finally, she looked straight at me, shot her paw out and pushed the mug off the counter.  It smashed to the floor in a clatter of ceramic shards, pens and pencils.

“Pandora!” I leaned over the counter to see pens rolling every which way. 

Pandora calmly jumped down from the counter, padded over to her cat bed in the windowsill and curled up. 

What the heck had gotten into her?
I wondered if it was her way of protesting Ranger’s presence. Funny, though, she didn’t seem to mind him … she hadn’t really hissed at him or anything. It actually seemed like they were getting along and I could have sworn they exchanged a
look
right after she pushed the mug off. That was probably my overactive imagination. I was pretty sure dogs and cats didn’t exchange ‘looks’.

Whatever the reason, I noticed they were both fast asleep before I finished picking up the mess. Both of them seemed to be unusually tired today. I resumed my activities behind the counter and was engrossed in adding up my sales for the week when the regulars came in.

“Morning, Willa.” Bing slid a Styrofoam cup across the counter toward me. “Have you been back to Van Dorn’s?”

“I went back last night.” I raised the coffee cup up.  “Thanks for the coffee.”

“And?” Bing’s left brow ticked up a notch.

“I didn’t find any journals.” I considered telling him about the letters but that didn’t seem right. The more I thought about it, the more I realized those letters were personal to Charles. He’d hidden them for a reason and it wasn’t for me to be blabbing it all around town.

“Did you meet the nephew?” Hattie asked from where she was perched on the edge of the purple sofa.