The Old Witcheroo (18 page)

I don’t know how long we were there, or how long I cried, but Frieda stayed with me until Dr. Northrup stuck his head around the corner and smiled the smile that had made me choose him when I was hunting for a vet.

“Stevie? He’s lookin’ good, kiddo. He got clipped pretty good on his hindquarter though. Didn’t hit anything major, and I dug the bullet out for the police, but he’s got six stitches and an ugly patch where his hair’s missing after a shave for surgery. Looks worse than it is, might need a bit o’ therapy to get that healed all right and proper, but he’ll survive. Gonna keep him overnight just to be safe, if that’s all right by you?”

“Thank heaven!” Win exhaled in my ear.

“I raise my glass to your four-legged friend! He is strong warrior!” Arkady chimed in.

I lunged from the couch and threw myself at poor Dr. Northrup, hugging him hard and soaking the shoulder of his shirt. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done…”

Dr. Northrup gave me an awkward pat on the back and set me from him. “He’s a good guy, your Whiskey. Just doin’ what dogs like that do. I think what the police said is right. He was protectin’ you.”

A brief moment of terror came and went. I didn’t know who’d want to shoot at me, but I couldn’t focus on that right now. Right now, I had to be with Whiskey, feel his soft fur under my chin as he burrowed against me and tucked his head into my shoulder. I had to know his heart was still beating strong and sure.

“Can I see him, please?”

Dr. Northrup nodded, rocking back on his heels and pointing to the recovery room behind me. “’Course ya can, gal. Just remember, he’s a little groggy yet. I put him on the couch in the recovery room so you can cuddle up if you want to.”

I squeezed his hand once more, whispered another thank you in gratitude, and fled so I wouldn’t blur my vision with more tears. When I opened the door and saw Whiskey, lying on the old couch with a fluffy comforter beneath him, I really fell apart.

“Aw, Whiskey…” I whispered as I kneeled down and stroked the top of his head, my tears splashing into his fur. He was shaved from the back of his hindquarter almost to the base of his spine, the bullet hole sewn neatly.

My heart ached, but my limbs almost collapsed with relief at the sight of him. He lifted his big head, his tongue lolled from the side of his mouth as his eyes fought to adjust, and then it was as though he saw me, heard Win, and he did what he always did. He pushed his nose into my hand and sighed.

“Good man, Whiskey. You rest now, chap. We’ll be here when you wake up,” Win soothed, his tone gruff and thick with emotion.

I set my purse on the couch so Bel could poke his head out to see for himself Whiskey was all right, as I kept watch on the recovery room door. He inched his way toward Whiskey’s muzzle and butted his tiny head against him. “You big dolt. I love you more’n I love watermelon in the summer. Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Got it? I love you, man. Love you hard.”

Whiskey gave a soft groan before he closed his eyes again and drifted off as I managed to squeeze in behind him, careful not to jar his incision.

Wrapping my arm around his thick neck, I buried my face in his fur and closed my eyes. “You rest, buddy. We’ll talk about a big T-bone for your lunch tomorrow, once you’re feeling better. If whoever was shooting was aiming for
me
, I’ll find him. Promise. But you saved me. You’re a hero, Whiskey.
My hero
.”

I stroked his velvet ear for a while, just like I did almost every night when we went to bed, until the long day and my aching nose caught up with me and I slept, too.

* * * *

“Buddy!” Bel shouted from the top of the staircase. “Who’s my big boy, Whiskey? Who’s a big boy?”

After a long night at the vet, wherein I’d fallen asleep and awakened with Whiskey panting happily in my face as though he’d never taken a bullet, I’d come home to grab a shower while Dr. Northrup took one last X-ray of his leg.

Now, safely back where he belonged, Whiskey, cone of shame around his neck to prevent him from scratching his wound, was ready to eat and see his pal Belfry.

“Easy, buddy,” I warned him. “Make sure he’s doesn’t overwork his leg, Bel. Oh, and thanks for calling 9-1-1 last night. You’re a peach among bats.”

Bel flew in a spiral down from the top of the steps and landed on Whiskey’s neck, where he always sat. “Not a problem, and got it, Boss. We’ll take it nice and easy today, won’t we, pal? We’re gonna sit out on the patio, you’re gonna eat the biggest steak ever, and no rough stuff. I’ll take good care of him, promise.”

When Enzo and Carmella had heard Whiskey’d been shot, they’d come running, dropping off a tray of rigatoni for me and an enormous rare steak for Whiskey.

Kneeling down, I hugged Whiskey once more and dropped a kiss on his head. “I love you, buddy. I’m so glad you’re safe and home. You sure you got this, Bel?”

“I got this. You go do your snooping; I’ll keep the home fires burnin’.”

I chuckled as I made my way into the kitchen to grab some coffee, freshly brewed by none other than Enzo, who’d left me a note to call if I needed anything. Sipping at the rich liquid, I closed my eyes and sighed.

My nose still throbbed to a tune of its own, and my cheek was bruised and sore, but Whiskey was alive, Dr. Northrup had handed over the bullet that he’d removed from my dog to the police for identification, and Luis was still with Dana.

I just wanted a moment to breathe before I tackled the rest of this new day.

“Morning, Dove. How doth thee fare?”

I grinned—even though Dana was still in jail, I had a good feeling about today. “Thou fares much better, thank you. How are
you
?”

“Feeling quite well now that our Whiskey’s home and alive. Grateful we’re all safe and sound.”

“Me too. I think for the immediate moment, I have to leave alone the question of who was aiming that gun last night and focus on Dana. If the person was truly aiming at me, I must be onto something. But how would they
know
I was onto something, is the question? I haven’t spoken a word to anyone about the possible mob connection. Otherwise, who’d want to shoot me?”

“I fear, if that bullet was meant for you, it’s someone we know. Which ties in with the idea that it was someone Sophia knew. I don’t like this turn of events, Dove. It worries me.”

Feeling like I was being watched had to be the creepiest feeling ever. I looked out the window and shuddered. But then I had a thought—one that made me gasp. “You don’t think it could be Fakebottom, do you?”

“I’ll kill him myself, Stephania. If that tosser shot at you, I’m going to utilize some of these ghost skills I’ve been practicing!”

“Stop right there. What have you been practicing? Are we talking dimming lights, opening and shutting cabinets, or are we talking summoning demons? Because I don’t want to have to remind you, this is dangerous, highly not-recommended territory.”

“Just you let me handle my evil twin. For now, until we have some answers, let’s, as you said, focus on Officer Nelson.”

“So, I’ve been trying to sort my thoughts this morning and I think the next thing I should do is talk to Eleanor’s aunt. She doesn’t feel right to me—not as a murder suspect anyway, but stranger things have been known to happen. Also, I’m going to investigate those hedges. I don’t know if that bullet was really meant for me, but I can’t think of anyone who’d want to harm Whiskey.”

Win grunted. “Neither can I. No disgruntled neighbors to speak of. He’s not a barker, so certainly he hasn’t disturbed anyone’s sleep. I hate to agree with the notion, but maybe the bullet
was
intended for you. As I said, I don’t like that, Stephania. Not at all.”

“Neither does Arkady! I must learn some of these ghost things Zero speaks of so that I can protect my little
malutka
. I will not have her pretty bottom scarred.”

I self-consciously reached behind me and tugged the hem of my Bermuda shorts. “Quit lookin’ at my butt,” I joked. “And you be careful with the ghost things, Big A. Like I told Win, some things are quite dangerous unless you now how to control them.”

“Then Arkady will consult you first. This is a promise. For now, as everyone is well, I must leave you. There is a beautiful Swedish masseuse who died just this morning after slipping in her massage oil and hitting her head. My neck is killing me after old injury from my days hauling water in Chechnya communes. I need strong girl to work out the knots.
Dasvidaniya
, my comrades. I see you soon!” he said, his hearty presence leaving my space.

As I made my way out to the side yard where Whiskey had been shot, I decided now was the time to ask Win about Arkady, and if my talking to him was an issue.

“So. Arkady. He is handful like greased cat,
nyet
?” I joked in a Russian accent, stepping out onto the lawn where the sun continued to burn a hole in the ozone.

Win’s laughter rang out strong and clear in my ear. “That he is.”

I rounded the corner of the house and made my way to the hedges, sweat beading my brow already. “Any issues with him popping in the way he has been? I meant to double check after I asked you the other night in the bathroom, but I’ve been so caught up in this mess with Dana, I forgot.”

“Not a one. We’ve made our peace, and he did tell you Fakebottom wasn’t really me, didn’t he? I could always use an ally.”

I stooped down, bending at the knee to look under the hedges. I know the police had scoured the area, checked for footprints and such, but I wanted to see for myself because that’s just who I was.

“I didn’t really need him to confirm, Win. I believed you from the start.”

“I know you did, Dove, but it’s always good to have more than one confirmation. I was beginning to think I’d gone nutters.”

Pushing the sharp, leafy green stems aside, I began to explore the surface and the area surrounding the hedges. “Did Arkady tell you I had a run-in with your evil twin?”

“He did, indeed. I heard you put on quite a show.”

“Bet your British bippy I did. He’s not taking this away from us, Win. I don’t care if he looks exactly like you. Did you happen to talk to Arkady about how that’s possible? Does he know any evil spies who’d go so far as to get plastic surgery to pretend to be you?”

“I did, and we both decided if it were anyone, it had to be Anton Drake. But Anton was killed last year in a helicopter accident off the coast of Italy.”

“Uh, are we sure he’s really dead-dead? Because don’t you spies come back from the dead, or pretend you’re dead when you’re not really dead? If plastic surgery was one of his spy tools, who says he didn’t fake his death and become you?”

“Because Drake is at least two inches shorter than me. You can’t grow legs.”

“If you spies can have lipstick guns and infrared eyeballs, who says you can’t grow two inches?”

Win’s chuckle lifted my spirits. “Touché, m’love. But I have to say, I have my doubts.”

“Okay, so back to square one with Fakebottom. That meeting at the lawyer’s office is coming up on us pretty quick, you know. I just want all my ducks in a row.”

I paused a moment as I caught sight of a piece of dark blue pinstriped material. About a quarter of an inch and square, it clung to one of the middle branches of the hedges. Walking around the back of the hedge, I aligned my eyes with the view in front of me then hunkered down.

“See this?” I asked Win, using my fingertip to point to the scrap of fabric. “It’s in the right place to get caught on a branch if someone were trying to shoot me where I was standing.”

“Don’t touch it, Stevie. We need to bag it and take it to the police. You also need to show them that picture you found in Sophia’s apartment, of her sister.”

I rose and brushed my hands off with determination. “Already sent to Luis. I’m going to go get that bag and then I’m off to see Eleanor’s aunt.”

As I made my way back to the house for some gloves and a Ziploc bag, my phone rang to the tune of The Clash’s “I Fought The Law,” signaling it was Luis.

My heart began to pound in worry for Dana as I pulled it out of my back pocket and answered. “Luis?”

“Stevie, I have some news I’d like to discuss.” His voice, full of authority and calming as a day-spa facial, usually kept me from panicking.

But today a cold chill raced along my spine, which made me so edgy I grabbed onto the railing of the steps for support. “Is Dana okay?”

“He’s fine for now, and I did manage to get him a bail hearing. I don’t know that we’ll be able to swing it, but I’m going to give it my best. Even I have to admit the evidence against him is overwhelming. I just need time to put together a case. I’ve no doubt in my mind he’s innocent.”

My stomach pitched, leaving my coffee gurgling like acid in my belly. “It’s the gun, right?” Brimstone and witches’ warts. That gun was going to be the death of us.

“Indeed. The gun, his whereabouts at the time of the murder, the fact that the gun used to kill Sophia was, in fact, his, with only his fingerprints on it. Add to that, he told them he proposed to Sophia and she said no to his proposal, something he failed to mention in his first round of questioning.”

I gulped. This just got worse and worse. “So no bail?”

“It’s a tough call. But I’ll argue Officer Nelson’s record of valor and we’ll roll the dice. However, that’s not what I want to talk to you about. This call is about the man claiming to be Crispin Alistair Winterbottom.”

On top of everything else, the mention of Fakebottom made me want to hunt him down and poke his gorgeous eyes out. I gripped the banister and said, “Okay…just hit me with it. I think I’m ready.”

“I received the DNA tests I requested back today from an impartial, agreed-upon third party. Still waiting on this Davis Monroe and Mr. Winterbottom’s fingerprints, though. However, keeping in mind, I watched as they swabbed this man’s mouth and took blood samples.” He paused for a moment, making my pulse hiccup. “According to this report, Stevie, he is, in fact, Crispin Alistair Winterbottom.”

“
H
ow can this be?” I yelled at the top of my lungs into the interior of the car. “How can he be you, Win? How has he managed to prove he’s you? Luis literally watched them take blood samples and swab his mouth! What is going on?”