Саманта Сильвер: The Purr-fect Crime

“Do you want to head home?” Sophie asked when I was finally finished. I’d also called Karen and told her what had happened, and that the clinic would be closed today, and maybe tomorrow as well.

I shook my head. “I could really use a coffee.”

“We have coffee at home.”

“We have no-name brand instant stuff at home. That and coffee are two very different things.”

Sophie shrugged. “Suit yourself. You know I love Betty’s sugar cookies.”

I smiled as we headed down the street to Betty’s Café, leaving Bee to her spot in the sun, where she was complaining about all the Portland people making too much shade. Since there were people around I couldn’t reply, so I just told her to stay there until we got back. I knew Betty’s was pretty much the worst place to calm down; Betty’s was the equivalent of the town watercooler, everyone who wanted to know what was going on – which was going to be the whole town, on a day like today – was going to make their way there to gossip.

As soon as Sophie and I walked in the door everyone stopped what they were doing to look at us. Pretty much all of the 30-odd seats were taken, and a couple people were just standing at the counter, drinking their coffee and chatting there.

Betty McMahon was behind the counter as always. In her early 60s, with short grey hair and kind blue eyes, she was like the town grandma. Always ready with a kind word and something sweet to eat. Her cakes and cookies were easily the best in the whole state, and I had run into many a Portlander who stopped in Willow Bay whenever they had to drive down to California just to get a box of Betty’s treats on the way.

“Sophie, Angela, hello!” she exclaimed when she saw us standing there. “You’ve had quite the morning, what can I get for you?”

I ordered my usual sweet order – a vanilla latte and a mixed berry muffin – while Sophie got a cappuccino and two iced sugar cookies. If it was closer to lunch I was going to get one of Betty’s amazing BLTs, which she made specially with vegetarian bacon just for me. We looked around to see if there was a spare table around, and miraculously, about ten different people immediately got up and offered us their seats.

They were going to come at a price though, I knew, and that price was information.

“Is it true there’s a body?”

“I heard it was old Andrea Dottory?”

“Were they really shot ?”

“How cool was it to see it?”

After about twenty questions in a row were asked, I had to hold up my hands in surrender.

“Everyone. Everyone. Hold on. Let me clear a few things up: I have basically no idea what happened. I walked in, saw a body, and immediately called Chief Gary. I don’t know who it was, but it certainly wasn’t Andrea Dottory. It was a male, he was dead, and that’s all I can tell you.”

If I thought that was going to stop the questions, well, I was way off. But I’d lived in Willow Bay my whole life, I knew that wasn’t going to stop the questions. But at least now they might start getting a little bit more creative.

About ten minutes later, though, everyone seemed to realize that Sophie and I really didn’t know much about what happened, and when one of the local retirees suggested that they go out to the scene and watch what was going on, a good chunk of the crowd in Betty’s Café left, and Sophie and I finally had a chance to breathe.

“Do you ever remember anyone being killed in Willow Bay before?” Sophie asked me, and I shook my head.

“No. I don’t even remember reading about something like this happening here before we were born, either.”

“I guess Chief Gary will know for sure, but we may have discovered the first ever body in Willow Bay!”

“Who are you saying ‘we’?” I said. “You were out parking the car while I came across the body.”

“Whatever, two minutes doesn’t make a difference.”

“Tell that to Franz Ferdinand.”

“Who?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You’re a nerd.”

“You’re the vet.”

“You’re dressed in scrubs in a coffee shop.”

“This is my work uniform!” Sophie protested.

“Girls, it’s been too hectic a day for you two to be fighting,” Betty scolded us gently as she came over with a second coffee for each of us. “On the house, you’ve been through quite a bit today.”

“Thanks, Betty,” we told her, shooting her a couple of grateful smiles. Little did she know Sophie and I were never going to stop bickering. It was just what we did. It was how we showed affection.

But for the next five minutes, at least, Sophie and I sat there and just enjoyed our coffees. I rested my head on her shoulder.

“I can’t believe this happened at Healthy Paws,” I finally muttered.

“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it? I can’t believe this happened in Willow Bay at all!”

“You can say that again.”

“I can’t believe this happened in Willow Bay at all!”

I rolled my eyes. “I hate you so much.”

“Right back atcha.”

I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds, but when I opened them again, rather than staring at a display shelf full of the best cakes in Oregon, I was staring directly into a wrinkly, angry old face.

“Ahhh!” I cried out in shock, jerking my head up off Sophie’s shoulder as I looked into the face of Antonia deLucca.

Antonia was absolutely, hands down the biggest gossip in town. She’d been a schoolteacher, and Sophie’s mom Lisa could attest to the fact that she was hated by all her students, but now in retirement she spent her time almost exclusively putting her nose in other peoples’ business, and just generally being a crotchety old lady that no one liked. She also suspected there was something strange about Charlotte and I, though she’d never actually accused us of being witches. Still, we were always exceptionally careful about what we said whenever she was within earshot.

Right now, she was staring me down, her face at most three inches from mine.

“What are you doing?” I asked, moving as far back in the seat as I could.

“Checking to see if you look like a murderer.”

“WHAT?”

“You heard me. People in town are talking, you know.”

“And I bet you’re talking more than any of them,” I muttered.

“That’s no way to speak to your elders. But they have questions. After all, why would a body end up in the vet clinic?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask the murderer?” I sighed. I was not in the mood for a chat with Antonia deLucca right now.

“That’s what I’m checking, to see if I’m looking at her.”

“What, do you think I have a tiny tattoo on my face that says “she did it” that just appeared when I shot the guy?”

“So you know he was shot.”

“I don’t know that, but I needed to give him a manner of death to fit the sentence. You’d think a former English teacher would understand that.”

It was a bit of a low blow, but I wasn’t in the mood for this. Antonia’s eyes narrowed as she scowled at me.

“You may be glib about this, but people are talking. And you know how in a small town, people don’t like things to be different. You best better hope Gary Banks finds the killer, and fast, or people might start finding a vet where human bodies don’t show up regularly.”

I was about to open my mouth to reply, but Sophie beat me to the punch.

“And you’d better watch your mouth old lady, because if you start driving people away from Angela’s clinic, well, you’ll have made an enemy of me. And if you want to see what happens when people make enemies in this town, well, they should be getting ready to wheel out that body pretty soon.”