Sleeping with the Fishes (A Paranormal Cozy Mystery) (Willow Bay Witches Book 6) Read online

  Sleeping with the Fishes (Willow Bay Witches #6)

  Samantha Silver

  Blueberry Books Press

  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

  My first indication that something was wrong was when I leaned back, took a deep breath to relax, and smelled smoke. I wasn’t supposed to smell smoke. I was in the storeroom of my vet clinic, doing inventory for the week as I made sure I had adequate supplies of all the drugs I used on a regular basis.

  Dropping the clipboard I was holding on the floor, I darted back out into the main lobby of the clinic. My first thought was of the kennels in the back. But no, there were no animals staying overnight at the clinic right now, thank goodness.

  My cat, Bee, who spent some of her days at the vet clinic, had spent today at home with the kittens she had been fostering. Sophie, my best friend and veterinary technician, had gone home ten minutes earlier.

  As soon as I made my way back into the lobby I gasped. The floor was on fire; shards of glass indicated someone had opened the front door and lobbed a Molotov cocktail into my vet clinic. Poop on a stick! This wasn’t the sort of thing that happened here. What was going on? Why had someone set my clinic on fire? Those were all questions I figured I could ask myself after the fire was put out.

  I ran behind the desk where I knew there was a fire extinguisher. Being a witch, I knew I could just put out the fire magically, but that would be pretty hard to explain when the fire department got here. I’d only use my magic if I absolutely had to.

  Pulling the pin on the fire extinguisher, I pressed down on the handle and felt the large canister jerk beneath me as white foam poured from the nozzle with a loud whooshing sound. The entire room suddenly began to look like a bubble bath gone very, very wrong, but the flames dissipated, and as the last spurts of the fire extinguishing goo left the canister, I caught my breath and saw the fire had been put out.

  I was just getting ready to take my phone out and call 9-1-1 when I saw a flash of movement outside, a body making their way away from my shop.

  My spidey senses were on high alert, and this was more than woman’s intuition. This was witches’ intuition, and it was never, ever wrong.

  Ignoring the part of my brain that told me to hunker down inside Healthy Paws and call the police, I opened the front door and ran outside. I was sure I looked like a crazy person, and I had no idea what I’d do if I even managed to catch the person I was pretty sure was responsible for this, but I was going to find out! I looked out into the Main Street of Willow Bay. It was early October now, and while it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, the sun had already set and it was getting to be pretty dark out. Most of the businesses had closed for the day, and while I saw the light coming from the Italian restaurant down the street, there was no one outside.

  No one except one person, dressed in black, running away from the light to my left, away from my clinic.

  “Hey! You! Stop!” I cried, giving chase. I was immediately reminded of the constant excuses I made in order to avoid doing anything remotely resembling exercise as I made it less than twenty feet before my lungs began to burn.

  Still, a few seconds later the adrenaline of the chase coursed through my veins, and my body began to pick up the pace, the pain disappearing.

  Take that, running. Who needs regular exercise when a combination of panic and hormones can do the same thing?

  The man had a good fifty foot head start on me, but with the surge of adrenaline, I was sure that I could catch up to him and find out who he was.

  Unfortunately for me, it turned out that even adrenaline can’t make up for almost thirty years of exercise avoidance, and it quickly became evident that the man was making up distance on me. If I couldn’t catch him over three hundred feet, I had absolutely no hope over an even longer distance.

  I did, however, have one distinct advantage. I, Angela Wilson, veterinarian who could talk to animals, was a witch. And magic made everything easier, including running.

  “Celeroa,” I panted, pointing at my legs. Immediately, without any effort on my part, my pace picked up. I felt like Usain Bolt as I ran through the streets, accelerating with every step. It was a good thing no one was out to see this; we witches weren’t allowed to use our magic in front of humans. I had to make sure to keep my speed below cheetah-pace, just in case.

  The sprint now felt like a light jog, but I could tell I was catching up to the person who thought they would vandalize my clinic. I figured it was just some teenager playing a prank, but I needed to know for sure before I called the police. And I was definitely calling the police. What if I’d had animals in there? What if they were there alone? No, whoever did this couldn’t get away with it.

  Finally, about five hundred feet from the clinic, I caught up to the person. I grabbed the hood of his hoodie and yanked it down, but I didn’t account for the extra speed. I knocked the man off balance and he fell into me, and we both tumbled to the ground, hitting a grey hybrid parked on the side of the road. This was Oregon, after all. We bounced off the car and hit the ground, hard.

  I let out a cry of surprise as I hit the cement, but a split second later I was back up and glaring at the person that I was sure had just set my clinic on fire. I could feel a stinging sensation on my arm; I probably had a pretty bad case of road rash, but I ignored it. I could deal with superficial injuries later. For now, I had to take care of this. I sat up and glared straight into the eyes of Matt Smith.

  “What on earth?” he shouted at me. “What is wrong with you?” His dark eyes flashed with anger.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I replied. “What’s wrong with you? You just threw a Molotov cocktail into my vet clinic!”

  “Gee, really? Do you have any proof?” he asked, getting up and not bothering to offer me a hand. Good. I wouldn’t have taken it anyway. I pushed myself back up as well and glared at him.

  “You smell like gasoline,” I accused him, and it was true. The smell was quite faint, but it was definitely there.

  “So? I just spent the whole afternoon working on my car. Yeah, I smell like gasoline. That’s what happens when you do an honest day’s work.”

  I laughed out loud. “Oh, yeah, because you know soooo much about that,” I replied, rolling my eyes. Matt Smith was a Donald Trump wannabe. The kind that came into Willow Bay every few years with a business degree and the idea that they could completely change our town and turn it into a west coast Waikiki. Of course, what none of these people understood is that half the reason people came to Willow Bay in the first place was for the small town atmosphere and the quaint main street. He was the kind of guy who got mad if he spilt crumbs on his shirt, I had absolutely no doubt that he did not spend the afternoon working on his car.

  “Well, I’d like to see you prove otherwise,” he said, smirking at me with that cocky look. I was pissed. About
a month ago I had found a missing jewel worth millions of dollars, and as a reward the owner had paid me a substantial sum. It was enough to buy the plot of land and building my vet clinic was sitting on from the retiring owner, scooping up the property from under Matt’s nose. He had been incredibly angry when he’d found out what I’d done, and I wasn’t surprised that he was the one who had just tried to torch my vet clinic. This was taking things way too far though.

  “Yeah, that’s right, I didn’t think you could prove it,” he smirked a minute later when I hadn’t said anything.

  “Please. You were running from my clinic as the fire was set and you smell like gasoline.”

  “I was running to get help when I saw the flames,” he replied, widening his eyes in fake innocence. “Anyone will believe that.”

  The most annoying part was, I knew he was right. We both knew he had just tried to torch my vet clinic, and yet there was nothing I could do about it. I had no real proof that he had done anything. I watched enough CSI to know that all the evidence I had was circumstantial.

  “You’re not going to get away with it,” I told him. “There could have been animals in there. You could have killed them.”

  “I didn’t do anything. But theoretically, maybe killing them wasn’t what the arsonist had in mind.” His lips curled up into a gross smile as fear gripped my heart. Had he just essentially threatened me?

  “Hey, what’s going on here?” a voice asked from behind us. I turned to see Taylor Shaw, Sophie’s boyfriend, standing next to us in uniform. He was tall and looked more like a surfer than a police officer, with shaggy blonde hair and friendly blue eyes. From what I’d heard there had been more than a few disappointed girls in town when they realized Sophie and Taylor were a pretty steady item.

  “Officer, I’m so glad you’re here,” Matt told him, putting a pitiful look on his face. “This woman here, Angela, she attacked me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. I caught you sneaking away from my vet clinic after you threw a Molotov in the front door,” I replied.

  “Woah, woah, hold up,” Taylor said, holding his hands up in front of him. “I think this is a bit above my pay grade. Let me call Chief Gary.”

  Chapter 2

  Chief Gary joined us about three minutes later.

  “What’s happening, Officer Shaw?” he asked, and Taylor motioned to the two of us.

  “I found these two having an argument in the middle of the street. Angela insists that she caught Matt after he set her vet clinic on fire, and Matt insists that he was going to get help, and that Angela just attacked him.”

  Chief Gary’s eyes widened as Taylor told the story. “Your clinic’s on fire?” he asked me, and I shook my head.

  “Not anymore. I managed to put the fire out with the extinguisher. I was in the back room doing inventory when I smelled the smoke.”

  “How bad is the damage?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. As soon as I put the fire out I saw Matt running from the clinic, so I went out and caught up to him.”

  “You mean she outran you?” Taylor said with a small smile on his face, and Matt glared at him. Matt hadn’t exactly endeared himself to the citizens of Willow Bay since he’d moved into town.

  Chief Gary shot Taylor a warning glance–no matter what his personal opinion, Chief Gary was always completely neutral when it came to dealing with the people of Willow Bay. It was one of the reasons I respected him a lot as police chief, and it was one of the reasons why he was incredibly popular here in town.

  “I didn’t set the fire. I was just walking past the place when I saw some flames. I ran down the street to go to the fire department to get help.”

  “Except the fire department is in the complete opposite direction from my clinic,” I replied coldly.

  “Uh, I just panicked, I guess,” Matt replied, and I glared at him. Chief Gary looked from one of us to the other.

  “Plus, he smells like gasoline,” I told Chief Gary.

  “I already told Angela that I was working on my car all day. That’s why I smell like gas.”

  Chief Gary shook his head.

  “Angela, I’m sorry. None of this is enough to hold him. I’m going to let you go young man,” he told Matt. “But, I’m going to warn you: stay away from Angela’s vet clinic.”

  “Will do, although if I hadn’t been there no one would have been around to raise the alarm,” Matt replied.

  I shook my head in amazement at Matt’s brazenness as he walked off, giving me another smug smile as he left.

  “He threatened me, too,” I told Chief Gary, who looked at me seriously.

  “Did he now? That’s serious.”

  “Yes, he told me killing animals might not have been what the arsonist had in mind. Obviously since he did it that way he can say he was just talking. But I know he was the one who torched the clinic, and he definitely threatened me.”

  “I don’t like that man one bit,” Chief Gary said, his face darkening. “Unfortunately, you’re right. All the same, I’d like you to go to the county courthouse tomorrow and get a restraining order out against him. I might not be able to arrest him, but what you’ve told me will probably get you an R.O.”

  “Ok, will do,” I nodded. I shivered despite the warmth of the night and the warm light pooling over me from the Italian restaurant a few feet away.

  “Now, let’s go to the clinic, I want to look at what happened there.”

  As Chief Gary and I walked back down Main Street, I took out my phone and texted my best friend Sophie about what happened, and also Jason, my boyfriend and the reporter for the local paper here in town. I got replies from both instantly telling me they were going to be right there.

  When we got back to the vet clinic, I finally had a chance to see the damage. Luckily, it could have been a lot worse. A large patch of the linoleum floor was charred black, the edges peeling back, and there were shards of glass everywhere. The whole thing was covered in a thin white coating of leftover fire extinguisher fluid.

  Sadness engulfed me all the same. I was so glad I had been here alone, but this place was still my baby, my pride and joy. Chief Gary made his way inside and told me not to touch anything as he looked around. I decided to stay outside; I didn’t want to look at the damage any more than I had to. A minute later, a car pulled up, and Sophie, Jason and my sister Charlotte all came pouring out, surrounding me and taking me into what ended up being one giant hug.

  “Are you ok?”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “Of course she knows who did it, it was Matt Smith.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Who else would it have been?”

  “Stop bickering, I want to know if Angie’s ok.”

  I had to admit, I laughed as I pulled away from the group of my favorite people in the world.

  “I’m fine, guys, don’t worry,” I told them. “Just a little bit shaken up more than anything. And pretty upset about the vet clinic,” I continued, glancing toward the doors. Chief Gary was carefully placing some of the glass shards in a clear plastic bag. Tears threatened to sting my eyes, but I forced them back. This wasn’t the time for crying.

  “I’m sure Chief Gary will catch whoever did it,” Charlotte said.

  I shook my head. “I know who did it. It was Matt Smith. I saw him out of the corner of my eye running off after I put the fire out, so I chased him down. He all but admitted it was him, but because he didn’t actually admit it, there’s nothing Chief Gary can do, unless he finds some proof in there.

  I showed the others the road rash on my arm, and saw Jason’s fists clench while Charlotte and Sophie fussed over me.

  “You need to get this disinfected,” Charlotte told me. “I’m taking you home right now and wrapping this up for you.”

  Charlotte was currently attending medical school in Portland. She was absolutely, hands down way smarter than the rest of us. I waved her off.
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  “It’ll be fine. I want to know what Chief Gary says, first.”

  As if right on cue, Chief Gary chose that moment to come out of the vet clinic. He didn’t look happy.

  “Well, as you said, it’s obviously arson,” Chief Gary said. “I’m going to need you to come by the station sometime and make an official statement. I’ve opened up a case file on this. Whoever did it used an empty wine bottle filled with accelerant.”

  “Did you find any evidence that Matt Smith was responsible?” Sophie asked, but Chief Gary shook his head.

  “No,” he replied. “I dusted a few of the shards of glass for fingerprints, but either they were burned away or whoever did it wore gloves.”

  My heart sunk. There was going to be no way to prove what I knew to be a fact: Matt Smith had tried to torch my vet clinic.

  “And of course, because this is Willow Bay, none of the businesses on Main Street have security cameras,” Jason muttered. Being a recent transplant to the town from New York City, I knew some of the small-town features that I loved so much about this place drove him absolutely nuts. Like the fact that none of the businesses on Main Street felt the need to have any security beyond a locked front door.

  At this exact moment, however, I agreed with him. I made a mental note to start looking into better security systems in the future.

  “I’m sorry,” Chief Gary said, the sympathy on his lined face evident. “I wish I had better news for you. I’ve taken all the glass into evidence and I’ll send it to the lab in Portland to check for prints just in case, but I recommend not getting your hopes up.”

  I nodded sadly. “Thanks, Chief,” I told him. “I’ll come by the station tomorrow to give a statement.”