Саманта Сильвер: The Purr-fect Crime

The Purr-fect Crime Willow Bay Witches #1

Samantha Silver

Blueberry Books

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Also by Samantha Silver

About the Author

Chapter 1

“This is totally ridiculous,” I muttered to myself while sorting through what felt like a million different files strewn across my desk.

“What’s more ridiculous,” asked Bee from her seat by the window as she looked outside onto the main street in Willow Bay. “The fact that you’re the least organized person on the planet, or the fact that you know this and still refuse to let Karen actually handle the work she was hired to do?”

I glared at Bee from behind my desk. I knew exactly what I was looking for: a letter from the city asking me to participate in some capacity in the Willow Bay Summer of Fun festival. I knew it was in this pile somewhere . Just because I didn’t know exactly where it was didn’t make me that disorganized, did it?

Willow Bay was a cute little seaside resort town on the Oregon Coast. Sheltered by the bay from the strong ocean currents, Willow Bay was about an hour from Portland, and every summer we were inundated by tourists looking to escape the city and spend a few days in our calm waters of the Pacific Ocean. We held a festival every year that featured food trucks, water-based competitions including the top surfing competition in the state, and family fun everywhere.

I ran the vet clinic in town, and to be honest, I didn’t really get that much business from the tourists by sponsoring the petting zoo every year. But I loved this place, and felt that if I could spend a couple hundred dollars a year putting a banner up to bring more tourists here, well that was a price I was willing to pay.

I’d lived in Willow Bay almost my whole life, only leaving for a few years to get my veterinary degree in Seattle. I was a west coast girl, all the way, though I didn’t exactly have those typical California looks. Chestnut brown, slightly wavy hair framed my face, reaching halfway down my back, although I usually tied it back in a ponytail. My bright green eyes were my favourite feature on my heart-shaped face, and I was also pretty thankful that genetics had blessed me with a little button nose.

“Found it!” I declared triumphantly, grabbing the piece of paper and holding it above my head in victory. “You know I’d let Karen deal with this but Steve likes it when I answer him directly.” Steve Manning was the mayor of Willow Bay, and he was so connected that I always figured it was a good idea to stay on his good side.

Karen was the receptionist here at the vet’s office, and to be honest, the only reason any paperwork ever got done around here. She was an absolute godsend.

“Good, now can we finally go home?” Bee asked, getting up from her spot by the window and pacing around the floor. “After all, it’s Friday night. No one else does paperwork on a Friday night. You should be out there, looking for a man.”

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. When was the last time you did the walk of shame? You’re twenty six years old, girle. Get yourself out there, before it’s too late.”

I threw my head back and laughed.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe I’m actually getting this lecture from you. I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t have time for a boyfriend. And if I was into one night stands, I would go for it. But I’m focusing on my career right now, there will be time for boys later.”

“That’s what they all say,” Bee replied, giving me a haughty look before moving back to her window seat.

“Besides, if I had a guy in my life, you’d get jealous.”

Bee gave me a mischievous look. “Oh, please. I like Sophie more than you, anyway.”

I rolled my eyes. Sophie was my best friend, my roommate, and one of my vet assistants. We’d grown up together, ever since my parents had died in a car accident when Charlotte, my little sister, and I were just a few years old. Her mom had been best friends with my parents, and after they died, she took Charlotte and I in and raised us as her own. As a result, Sophie was almost more like a sister to me than a best friend. And as much as she was one of the most amazing people I knew, I also knew Bee did not like Sophie more than she liked me.

“Whatever, Bee. I know you’re lying to me. Sophie teases you too much to be your favourite.”

“We’re getting off topic, anyway,” Bee replied haughtily. “We’re supposed to be lamenting your complete and total lack of a social life.”

“Do you know how hard it is to actually run a vet clinic?” I asked her.

“How would you know? You just get Karen to do everything.”

“Yes, and I had to find Karen, and I have to make enough money healing animals to pay her, and then pay Sophie, and then pay myself.”

“I dunno, it looks pretty easy from where I’m sitting.”

“Yeah, it would,” I muttered to myself as I sat at the computer and began typing a reply to Steve. “Now, if you don’t mind, one of us has actual work to do, so give me a few minutes to finish up and then we can head home.”

“Good, I’m starving,” Bee replied, and I rolled my eyes. Bee was always starving.

I wrote my letter to Steve confirming that I would, once again, be willing to be the naming sponsor for the petting zoo (Healthy Paws’ Petting Zoo always sounded good whenever I saw the sign), turned off the computer, grabbed my bag, made sure the back door was locked and then got ready to go.

“Ok, Bee, you get your wish. Time to go home,” I told her, and the cat jumped onto my shoulder, purring contentedly at the knowledge that she was only about five minutes away from getting her dinner.

Chapter 2

Maybe I should explain a little bit.

I was born a witch, into a family of witches. My parents were both witches, although I barely remember them. My sister, Charlotte, is also a witch. Sophie’s mom Lisa is a witch as well; that was one of the things that made her and my parents such good friends. And the thing about witches is that on top of the standard spells and potions we all learn, we each have one unique ability that only we can use. Mine is that I can talk to animals.

All in all, it’s not that bad a skill to have. Growing up, before I realized that not everyone could do that, everyone just chalked up my conversations with neighbourhood cats, dogs, squirrels and birds as me having an overactive imagination.

“Oh, she’s just such a sweet child. She thinks the animals talk back to her,” people would say.

“She’ll grow out of it when she’s older.”

“It’s good to let children let their imaginations fly, it makes them more creative.”

Now that I was in my mid-20s, and I’d long since realized that I was the only person around with this ability, I tried to avoid having conversations with animals in public. It was one thing to ask a dog who’s a good boy, another completely to try explaining to him that if he’d stop pooping on the neighbour’s lawn then maybe the neighbour would stop putting up a sprinkler attached to a motion sensor to scare him off.

When I say I’m a witch, though, I don’t mean that I ride a broomstick, wear a pointy hat or have green skin. I look exactly the same as anyone else my age. In fact, I pretty much make an effort to look and act exactly like everyone else does when I’m in public. The thing about witches and wizards is that we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Not only are we not allowed to tell regular humans about our powers, but even if we were, it would probably be a pretty bad idea. I’ve seen X-men.