Саманта Сильвер: Barking Up The Wrong Tree

“Good. I’ll text Charlotte to see where she is.”

Ten minutes later we’d joined up with my sister.

“I’ve made posters and hung them up everywhere,” Charlotte told us as she waved at us from the street she was searching on. She had a handful of coloured sheets of paper in her hand and a stapler. “I’ve also called the animal shelter. They haven’t gotten any new animals today, and I’ve asked them to call me if they get any fitting Sprinkles’ description. Also, I’ve knocked on doors and handed flyers to the neighbours in a three block radius from Andrea’s home.”

I looked at Charlotte in appreciation. If there was one thing my sister had, it was work ethic. “Wow. Thanks, Charlotte, that’s great!”

“It’d be better if any of this led to anything, but we’ll have to see,” Charlotte said. “I’ve checked all the streets around here, and a few backyards, but I think he may have run into the woods behind this neighbourhood.

I sighed. “Ok. Let’s go in there and have a look, hopefully we’ll find him. We’ll look until it gets dark.”

There was a path near where we were that led into the forest straight into Railworkers Memorial Park, the main community gathering place in Willow Bay. We quickly decided that this was the best way to go, and headed for the entrance.

“Why don’t you guys do a spell to call him to you, or something?” Sophie asked when we were in the forest, well away from the prying eyes and ears of the citizens of Willow Bay.

“It’s too dangerous,” Charlotte replied. “The recall spell doesn’t account for anything being in the way between the witch and the object being called, so if we tried it and he was in the forest he’d likely be pulled straight into a tree and killed.”

“Damn. If only we lived in Nebraska,” Sophie muttered.

“Wow, I think that’s the first time in human history anyone has ever muttered that particular sentence,” I joked. Sophie giggled in appreciation.

“Nebraska still has corn fields, it would still be dangerous,” Charlotte argued.

“It was a joke, silly,” Sophie explained to her. “You can read about what a joke is in one of your books.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and we kept going.

Every time I looked at Sophie I thought about her mom dating someone. It seemed so strange. So unlike Lisa. And every single ounce of my being wanted to tell her, but I’d promised Charlotte I wouldn’t. I really, really hoped no one would bring up Lisa, because I knew I was a terrible liar, and if we started talking about Sophie’s mom, there was no way Sophie wouldn’t know that I was hiding something.

Luckily, however, we spent the next fifteen minutes in relative silence, occasionally calling out Sprinkles’ name, and straining our ears in the hopes of being able to hear him running through the brush.

We failed, but we did get very adept at being able to tell the sound of squirrels and robins apart as they ran off whenever we came near.

When we finally arrived at Railworkers Memorial Park, we were absolutely no closer to finding Sprinkles. Sophie sighed as she sat on a picnic table and rested her hand in her chin.

“It breaks my heart to think of that poor little doggie having to spend the night alone in the woods,” she admitted, sighing.

“I know,” I replied. If anything, my feelings for Sprinkles were even stronger. After all, I’d had conversations with the dog. I’d spoken to him. It was rough; I wanted nothing more than to see his little tail wagging as he came towards us.”

“What if he still had his leash on and it got caught on something? What if he can’t get away?” Sophie asked, getting more and more upset.

“You can’t think about that sort of thing,” Charlotte scolded. “Come on. That’s not going to get anyone anywhere. We just have to keep going. We’ll find him.”

“Fine,” Sophie huffed, getting up off the picnic table. I didn’t want to say anything, but to be honest, I didn’t think we were going to find Sprinkles here in Railworkers Memorial Park. After all, there were always people around here; if Sprinkles had made his way here someone would have caught him and called animal control. After all, this was Willow Bay. Everyone knew Sprinkles belonged to Andrea Dottory, and by now everyone in town would have heard that she had died.

Before I had the chance to make my opinion known, though, I saw something else that made my breath catch in my throat.

On the other side of the park, sitting on a bench and people-watching, was Jason Black.

“Is that…” I asked the others, my voice trailing off as I looked in his direction. Charlotte and Sophie spun around to see what I’d been looking at.

“Yup. That’s him,” Sophie replied. “You should go say hi.”

“What? Why should I go say hi?”

“Because you think he’s hot, despite the fact that you thought he’d murdered someone, and he thinks you’re cute. And also he got shot while saving your life.”

“That’s ridiculous. I do not think he’s hot,” I protested, feeling the blush crawling up my face. Ok, so Jason Black wasn’t bad looking. Maybe he was even pretty good looking. But that didn’t mean I had to be the one to go say hi to him. And why on earth did Sophie say he thought I was cute? She had absolutely no way of knowing that.

“I wonder what he’s doing here,” Charlotte asked, thoughtfully.

When Tony Nyman had been murdered, it seemed like I saw Jason Black around every corner. It turned out he was actually Nyman’s son, and not his murderer, and in the end Jason had saved my life. I supposed it was true I still hadn’t gotten to thank him properly for that, as when his mom found out he’d been shot she wanted him to come home straight away.

“It looks like the decision’s out of our hands anyway,” Sophie said with a grin on her face, and I looked over. Jason Black was coming this way.

“Come on, Charlotte, we have to find Sprinkles,” Sophie told my sister, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her away, leaving me standing there alone, looking like an idiot as Jason came over.

As he came closer, I really did have to admit it. Fine. He was hot. With black hair that seemed to constantly have that just-got-out-of-bed look to it, and eyes as dark as midnight, chiselled cheekbones and a few days’ worth of stubble, Jason Black looked like he belonged on the front page of a magazine, not some small town in Oregon. He was definitely good looking. It was too bad he was also completely infuriating.

“Hey, Angie,” he said as he came up to me, and I scowled.

“I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“That was back when you thought I was a murderer, I thought it’d be ok now,” he said, his eyes widening in fake shock.

“Fine,” I replied. “I suppose I should thank you, too. You know, for saving my life and all.”

Jason waved away my thanks.

“Right place, right time. You know. I’m just that awesome.”

“Right. That must be it,” I replied. “What are you doing back here in Willow Bay, anyway?”

“What, can’t a guy take a holiday in the town where his father ran away to then was brutally murdered in a couple months ago?”

“That would be pretty macabre. And also creepy.”

“You got me. Macabre and creepy. But seriously, I decided to come back because I like the town. I wanted to get away from New York and everything happening there, and I figured why not come to the place that my father liked so much after he left the big city as well.”

“Wait, so you live here now?” I asked. Jason nodded.

“Yeah. Moved here last week. After all, thanks to you, I’m a rich man now.”

“Wait, what?”

“The people at Ocean Mist’s head office decided that their publicity would end up being even worse if it turned out the man who technically owned some of the property they were going to build on and was murdered for it wasn’t properly compensated. And since I’m his son, and Zoe Wright burned his will, everything passed to me.”