Саманта Сильвер - Lipstick On A Pig

“Woah, sorry!” Matt said, holding up his arms in front of his chest. “I can see I hit a nerve. I like what you’ve done with the vet clinic. But I think together, we can make it look a lot more impressive. Bring you in a lot more business.”

“I already have one hundred percent of the business in town.”

“Yeah, well, people from Portland whose pets are sick might be willing to see you if…”

“If I pretend my vet clinic is an Apple Store and decorate it accordingly? No, thank you. The building as it is has a lot of character. Not that you would know what that is.”

“Well, it’s not going to be up to you, in a few weeks,” Matt said, obviously annoyed at me now. I had to admit, I took a little bit of satisfaction in the fact that I managed to rile him up so easily. Although my own blood was pretty much boiling over with rage. How dare he want to replace the cute wooden building that housed Healthy Paws and replace it with a modern glass monstrosity? No, I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“That’s what you think,” I told him. “Your deal hasn’t gone through yet.”

“What, and you think you’re going to manage to get something to change about that? Well guess what, money talks, and I have a lot of it. You’d be better off getting on my side here, Angela. Trust me. In a few years, I’ll be the main man here in town.”

“Yeah, ok, you get on that,” I told him. “I really do need to get to work.”

“Well, if you ever decide to dump that boyfriend of yours to the curb, I’m not so insulted that I won’t still take you out to dinner,” Matt said, flashing me a creepy smile. I visibly rolled my eyes at him as I crossed the street and walked to the vet clinic, making extra sure to lock the door behind me.

I made a mental note to go talk to my current landlord. Maybe there was a way I could convince him not to sell the property to Matt Smith. A girl could dream, right? There was one thing I knew for sure: I didn’t want that guy to own any property in Willow Bay, and certainly not the property my vet clinic was sitting on. Willow Bay had charm, it was what brought people to this town. I didn’t want some fresh-out-of-college kid with a trust fund ruining the place because he felt he could make it into the next Waikiki.

Chapter 15

When I got home just before the sun set around eight thirty, I was still fuming about Matt Smith. I was so angry about what he wanted to do with my vet clinic that I forgot to be angry at Bee, who had promptly begged for her dinner as soon as I’d gotten back. I was just scooping her dinner onto her plate when Sophie started talking.

“So I found out the funeral for Jessica Oliver is tomorrow. I figured we should go.”

“And find some new suspects?” I asked. Sophie nodded.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte interrupted. “Don’t you guys feel like it’s a little bit inconsiderate or something to go to someone’s funeral with the sole intention of interrogating people?”

I shrugged. “I figure Jessica Oliver probably won’t mind, since we’re using the information to try and find out who killed her.”

“Plus from what I saw of her, she was a terrible human being, I don’t mind at all,” Sophie continued.

Charlotte shrugged. “Fine. Well you two can go. I have classes tomorrow anyway, so I’ll go do that instead.”

A quick text to Jason and I discovered that he was going to the funeral as well—the murder was still the number one topic of gossip in Willow Bay, after all. From both locals and tourists alike. Circulation for the next issue of the Willow Bay Whistler was going to go through the roof.

“Why don’t you come along, Charlotte, and then you can just cast a truth spell on everyone, and we can just ask them all if they killed Jessica?” Sophie suggested. I smiled to myself slightly as Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I know you have no idea how magic feels, but it’s not as easy as just pointing your finger and saying words. Magic is hard. There’s a lot of energy expended when you do a spell. I could barely pull one off, if I tried to do more than one truth spell at a time, I guarantee you none of them would work.”

“Fine,” Sophie said, looking a bit dejected. “That certainly would have been an easy way to solve all our problems.”

Charlotte was right, of course. Doing simple spells like unlocking doors took no energy at all, but the harder ones took quite a little bit out of us witches. It was why whenever I did a trick like turning us invisible, I took a break from doing spells for a little while. It was just too exhausting.

“We’re just going to have to do this the old fashioned way,” I told Sophie with a wink. “Like you normal humans do.”

She scowled at me; Sophie didn’t like the fact that her only magical ability was being able to speak to Sprinkles.

“Well I’ve had enough of being made to feel like a second class citizen for one night, what do you say we go for a quick walk, Sprinkles?”

Sprinkles, who had been apparently asleep in front of the mantle, was up like a shot.

“A walk?” he said enthusiastically. “Of course I’m up for a walk! Anytime! You’re the best owner ever, Sophie. I love you so much!”

I smiled as he danced circles around Sophie’s legs as she laughed and walked toward the door. “I love you too, Sprinkles,” she told him. A few minutes later they were outside; I could see Sprinkles’ tail happily wagging from side to side as he sniffed the bushes outside the front of the house, checking to see if any other dogs had been in the area in the few hours it had been since his last walk.

“He’s an embarrassment to all self-respecting animals everywhere,” Bee muttered from her spot on top of her cat tree, looking out the window.

“Yeah, well, at least one of us has an affectionate and loving pet,” I told Bee, who rolled over onto her back.

“You can pet me,” she told me.

“When I try, you bite me.”

“Only when you do it wrong.”

I rolled my eyes. I decided maybe I’d drop Bee off at Gloria’s the next day before the funeral. As much as I teased Bee for being a drama queen, I loved my cat, and I knew she was missing her boyfriend.

At eleven the next day Bee was safely at Buster’s place, and I had a headache.

“Where are we going? Why are we going to the car?”

“I told you, I’m taking you to Buster’s place.”

“Are you sure? That sounds like a lie. You’re lying to me, aren’t you? We’re going to the vet. Ohhhh God we’re going to the vet.”

“I am your vet, remember? And the office is closed. So no, you’re not going to the vet. Now get in the car quietly before I change my mind.”

Thankfully, at that point, Bee had hopped into the back seat of the car and settled into her usual spot. I rolled my eyes at Sophie, who grinned.

“Bee’s being a bit dramatic this morning?” she asked.

“She thinks she’s going to the vet.”

“She comes to the vet clinic with us every day.”

“I know,” I sighed. Fifteen minutes later, and Bee was happily at Gloria’s house. I promised to come pick her up later and thanked Gloria, who assured me it was no trouble. A couple minutes later, Sophie and I were back on the road, headed just up the road to Wawnee, where Jessica Oliver had apparently grown up, and where the funeral was taking place.

The church in Wawnee was small, and already pretty much filled when we got there. The church was done up in the typical Oregon style—made of wood painted white, it could have almost passed for a house if it wasn’t for the tall steeple at the front of the building and the large stained glass windows that lined the side of the building evenly. Most of the attendees seemed to be curious folk looking for more gossip fodder. I spotted Antonia deLucca on the far end of the church, dressed in black from head to toe. She looked suspiciously like a panther, stalking her prey as she hunted for more juicy tidbits with which to start rumors in town the next day.