Owl or Nothing Read online

  “We can say she didn’t turn up for work, so we went to check on her.”

  “Barry will just contradict—”

  “We don’t even know what we’re going to find yet,” Dee said, cutting me off. “How about we wait until Gabby’s body’s in front of us before we work out the finer points?”

  “If she was killed, we could walk straight into a house with a murderer lying in wait.” I cupped my elbows, hunching my shoulders against the chill in the air.

  Dee turned back to the empty space. “You’d remember if you’d been stabbed or shot, wouldn’t you?” The tiny eyeroll the mouse gave a moment later suggested not.

  “Come on.” I stamped my feet, trying to keep them warm. “Standing here with a mouse talking to a ghost isn’t doing my image any favours.”

  “It doesn’t exactly raise my profile amongst the leading town rodents to be stood here with you, either,” Dee retorted.

  I rubbed at the side of my temple while I tried to work out if she was being serious. “Do you associate with a lot of rodents?”

  “Don’t be silly. It was just a joke.” Dee ran across the table, leaping at me and catching hold of the fabric of my T-shirt with her little claws. “I’m allowed to have fun at your expense.”

  “What’s Gabby doing now?”

  “As little as she did when she was alive.”

  Dee’s sarcasm might be razor sharp, but it was also accurate. The girl had been allergic to work, and I presumed it was only to stay on the good side of her father that Barry had kept her on at all, despite the non-balancing till.

  Which triggered an idea.

  I stared at the same place Dee had been addressing. Just because I couldn’t see the ghost didn’t mean I should avoid looking her in the eye. “Why did you steal money from the bar? Did your dad cut you off?”

  Dee shook her head after a few seconds. “She’s just pretending not to know what you’re talking about.” She watched for a moment longer, then wriggled her whiskers in disdain. “Whatever else she is, Gabby’s ghost is not a great actress.”

  “Talking to yourself, are you?” a man called out from behind me.

  I spun on my heel, swallowing hard as I watched three large guys saunter towards me, smirks decorating their hard faces.

  “She’s got a wee friend,” the bloke in the middle said. “It’s a cute little rat.”

  “It’s a mouse, and the bar’s through there,” I said, pointing. “Don’t expect conversation when I’m on a break.”

  “We weren’t looking for a chat,” the first man said, crossing his arms so his biceps bulged out.

  A worm of fear wriggled down my spine, giving a twist at my tailbone. The skin on my arms prickled. This close to the full moon, my feathers still wanted to poke through.

  “What’s that on your face?” the third man said, laughing. “Does the shifter have a little beak?” His laughter turned disparaging. “An ugly, monstrous beak.”

  I took a step sideways, clearing a path to the door. If I ran now, I’d get maybe halfway before one of these overgrown jocks hid me square in the back.

  “How about I take care of that for you?” The first man pressed a button and flicked out a blade, three inches long. “Cheapest plastic surgery in town.”

  “Grab hold,” I yelled to Dee, giving her a second to comprehend before my body completely transformed. With one flap of my arms, I rose into the air, soaring above the group’s heads.

  The wind became a tool I used to drive myself higher. Then I swooped, rushing through the air, claws out, diving for the men until they ducked down, holding their jackets up for cover.

  “How d’you like that?” Despite shouting, the breeze stole my voice, a thief that also took off with my next triumphant cry.

  “Teach you to pick on meeces,” Dee called out, her yell barely a whisper in my ear. “Next time, pick on someone your own size.”

  As a final parting gift, I opened my cloaca and dumped a full load onto their heads.

  With no wish to return to the bar just yet, I flapped my wings to gain height and soared over the town toward Gabby’s house.

  “Where’s your spare key?” Dee asked as I landed. She continued to harangue Gabby’s ghost while I changed back to human. The transformation always left me feeling sick, weak, and ashamed.

  A magic curse that altered every atom of my body, clothing, and accessories into a compacted animal form, then reversed the effect in less than a second. No wonder it made my stomach heave. It had been six months since I’d last shifted. All my efforts to pretend I was a normal person leading a normal life, gone in a second.

  “We could just go back to the pub,” Dee suggested, in a complete turnaround. Gabby was apparently less than forthcoming about us gaining entry. “Her boyfriend will find the body soon enough. We don’t need to get involved at all.”

  Her abrupt change of mind triggered my determination to see this through—reverse psychology hard at work. “He might be lying dead beside her.” I couldn’t work out if the thought excited or scared me. “If they were involved in something underhanded, only the quick response of the police might save more town members from a similar fate.”

  “Sure,” Dee drawled. “The Beechdale Mafia is a big concern to everybody.”

  I stalked along the side wall, peering in through the window. With no lights shining out, it was hard to make out anything. Shadows merged and morphed as my eyes adjusted. I checked under mats and flowerpots, searching for a spare key, before thinking to try the rear entrance.

  The handle turned easily, the door swinging open. After close on a year spent living in Beechdale, the casualness with which the residents treated home security still caught me by surprise.

  The back door led into the laundry. Even before I flicked on the light switch, it was obvious no bodies littered the pristine floor. I guessed that Marshall was a bit of a clean freak since Gabby definitely didn’t tend that way.

  “Let me down,” Dee said, “and I’ll explore ahead of you.”

  I carefully placed Dee on the floor, feeling a rush of gratitude she’d put her safety ahead of my own. As she scurried off, nose twitching, I paused and listened to the sounds of the hopefully empty house. Apart from a few creaks and groans from the roof as it settled into another cool evening, everything was silent.

  The bathroom was next, again empty, then the hallway leading to five more rooms. Gabby’s flat could have fitted mine inside at least three times over. As I gave each a cursory glance, I closed them off, so I didn’t repeat the check accidentally. The last doorway in the hall lead into the master bedroom.

  “It’s all clear in here,” Dee called out, racing across the floor to place a paw on my foot.

  I lifted her up to my shoulder as I confirmed her assessment. A photograph of Gabby and her late mother caught my eye, and I picked it up, running my fingers lightly over the protective glass. In the image, a silver necklace lay around her mother’s neck.

  A little over a month ago, Gabby had lost the same silver locket. I’d hunted through every inch of the bar as she became more distraught. The emotion was catching and by the time I found it, having slipped down the back of a cabinet in the ladies’ room, I felt closer to her.

  My mother had passed away not long before the infection spread across the country. Like Gabby, I had almost nothing of her left.

  A wave of grief rose inside me, closing my throat and swelling my nostrils. How could Gabby be dead? She’d worked beside me, annoying as usual, just last night.

  I replaced the picture, surreptitiously wiping away tears with the back of my hand. It sat next to an old-fashioned bedroom set comprising a tortoiseshell-backed mirror, hairbrush, and clothes brush. It reminded me of the one my grandmother owned. When I’d been a little girl, she’d forbidden me from playing with them, so I’d taken them out at every opportunity.

  “Does Gabby have a will?” I asked Dee. “Perhaps Marshall killed her for the money.”

  “I won’t bother
telling you her answer,” Dee said. “If there’s a swear jar nearby, it’ll be full to the brim.”

  I turned on my heel, surveying the scene. Nothing. “Perhaps we should check around the back yard?”

  “Gabby’s starting to look worried,” Dee relayed to me. “She keeps rubbing her stomach and pulling at her throat.”

  “How about the kitchen, then? It could be something she ate.”

  We moved back to where we’d started, and I checked the dishwasher—empty—then pulled open the fridge. Judging from the smell, anything in there could be a murder weapon, but in that case, where was the body?

  “There must be something more here that we’re not seeing. Why would she call in sick to work, then leave the house?”

  My next stop was the rubbish bin. Empty, but there were food containers piled next to it from a vegan restaurant in town—Petit Légume. A place where I couldn’t afford to eat even if I hadn’t been so fond of meat and dairy.

  The sink held two used mugs and a teaspoon. Unrinsed. Right next to the empty dishwasher. That seemed like a Gabby thing to do. I inspected the cups and picked one up to take a long sniff.

  Bitter coffee. Sweet sugar. Nothing suspicious. I moved to the next.

  Dee shrieked, “Stop it! STOP IT!!! What are you DOING?”

  My arm jerked, and the mug jumped from my fingers, cracking into pieces on the floor. Dee crouched low on the counter, shaking, holding her paws over her eyes.

  I picked her up and cradled her close to my chest. “What’s wrong? Is it Gabby?”

  Between sobs of fear, she explained the ghost had been gouging at her throat, her tongue swelling, her chest heaving for air. “She’s really dead, Liv. It looked horrible. I can’t believe how frightened she must’ve been.”

  Terrifying images crowded into my mind and I forced them back out again. “But where is she?” I whispered. “Where did she die?”

  My phone rang, and I snagged it out of my pocket, holding it between my ear and shoulder as I continued to stroke Dee. “Liv here.”

  “Where on earth are you?” Silvana’s voice was such a low whisper I strained to hear anything. “You need to get back here right now.”

  “Sorry,” I said, putting Dee into my apron pocket so I could hold on to the phone. “I just got caught—”

  “The police are here. I told them you went to get cigarettes.” She paused for a long moment. “They’ve found Gabby’s body. She’s been attacked by something in the forest. She’s dead.”

  Chapter Three

  In the pantry, I found a stash of single-use plastic supermarket bags. Naughty, naughty. I stole one from the hoard and swept the broken coffee mug into it before throwing the shards into the bin. My mind whirled and spun.

  “Get a move on,” Dee yelled as I stood, trying to think if I should wipe away my fingerprints. At her cry, I decided no. It wasn’t like a crime had occurred. At least, not here.

  I catapulted out the back door, sprinting down the street before steeling myself for another transformation. After gliding into the air, it took less than a minute before I was circling down to land beside the bar.

  After one more second, spent holding onto the wall, dry retching, I peered through the window.

  Two policemen walked around inside the pub. From the looks of it, they were the only patrons left. I gulped and pushed open the door, my nose immediately running with the change in temperature. As I passed by a window table, I stole a napkin from the holder to wipe it clean.

  “Liv! Thank goodness you’re here.” Barry’s voice wobbled and his face was bright red, eyes and nose streaming. “The police have terrible news.”

  “Where did they find Gabby?”

  “In the woods out by Kissing Point.” My boss broke off, pressing a palm to his forehead as he struggled for control. “They say it looks like a pack of wolves got hold of her.”

  “Don’t do that,” Silvana snapped from her position behind the bar. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her jaw was clenched tight. “People are always too eager to blame a wolf before anybody’s even inspected the evidence. You don’t know what happened.”

  “Well, it wasn’t a human, that’s for sure!”

  I thought of what Dee had said about Gabby holding her stomach and clutching at her throat. I opened my mouth to ask him if the animals had torn out her belly, then clamped my lips together. Not the right time. Not the right question.

  “I can’t believe it,” I said, the lie settling me into more familiar territory. “How did the police find her? I thought she’d only just called in sick?”

  “It wasn’t her. The boyfriend texted me to say she wouldn’t be in.” Barry bit his bottom lip as he stared over at the policemen who looked to be comparing notes. “I’ve passed my phone over to the cops.”

  Or they ripped it out of his hand, I thought, raising an eyebrow. “Should I go over there and introduce myself? What’s the protocol?”

  “Yeah.” Barry covered his face with his hands, offering no further help.

  “Have you talked to them?” I asked Silvana, who scowled and nodded. “How were they?”

  “They’re cops.” Silvana shook her head and shrugged. “They won’t bite and if they do, I’ve got your back.”

  I walked over, wiping my hands on my apron. “Hey, I’m Liv and I work here.”

  The police constable was Will Bryant. His beat covered most of the Beechdale town centre and he often popped into the bar during the day to request information. With our small population and spread out populace, the Barnyard was one of the few establishments to have regular incidents. Nothing serious, but if some men had a beer too many and took it out back, Bryant would drop by the following day.

  “This is Detective Mallard,” he said now. “He’s the lead investigator on this case.”

  I held out a hand to shake but the officer didn’t reciprocate my gesture so dropped my arm back to my side, feeling foolish. “What happened?”

  Detective Mallard blinked twice, his eyelids screwing up tightly each time. I shuffled back half a step, tilting my head to one side. The man didn’t look like he had the full complement of parts for a decent assembly.

  “When did you arrive at work this morning?” he asked, ignoring my question.

  “Just after ten-thirty, like normal. I keep the doors shut until midday, but there’s lots of clearing up from the night before to get done.”

  “And Gabrielle Mulligan was due to start work at six, is that right?”

  It was so strange hearing Gabby’s full name it took me a second to click, then I nodded. “Barry told me she wasn’t coming in.”

  “Was that unusual?”

  “Not really. Gabby’s never been the most reliable employee.” Bryant gave me a sharp glance, and I blushed. Oops. I should remember when talking to strangers not to give voice to everything that’s in my head. “I-I mean, she’s fine, don’t get me wrong. We all enjoyed working with her.”

  “Hm.” The detective scribbled in his notepad. “When’s the last time you saw Gabrielle?”

  “Last night. When I left the bar, she was still here, getting ready to close.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “Sure. I open the place and she and Barry close it down.”

  “That means you were working for over fourteen hours straight.” The detective frowned. “That’s far over the hours of work recommended by the Department for Health and Safety.”

  Yeah, it was. I warmed to the detective, despite his exaggerated blinks. “There’s only the two of us and Barry. I enjoy working the extra hours—it helps with the bills.”

  “Don’t you receive the government subsidy?”

  And my feelings on the detective cooled again. How did he even know I was a shifter? It wasn’t as though I was standing there sprouting feathers. “I don’t like handouts. I’ve worked for a living since I was eighteen and I don’t see any reason not to do so now.”

  “Admirable,” he said in a voice that indicate
d it was not. “Are Gabrielle and Barry shifters, too?”

  I swapped my weight from one foot to the other and folded my arms across my chest. “Why don’t you know already? You knew about me.”

  “PC Bryant filled me in before we got here.”

  The detective stared at me with a level gaze as though I had no reason to feel slighted. I probably didn’t, which made me feel even more insulted. “No, they’re not. Can you tell me what happened to my colleague?”

  “You weren’t friends?”

  I refused to answer, staring back at the detective until PC Bryant cleared his throat. “We found her body up near Kissing Point, but we can’t say anything more until the pathologist gives us his report.”

  I knew Keith Trogart, the forensic pathologist for Beechdale and the surrounding region. He’d stopped by the bar on many an evening, freshly scrubbed from doing something unthinkable to a dead body.

  The man had a good sense of gallows humour. Keith could have me laughing at his anecdotes long before my brain understood I should be horrified.

  Dee reached out of the pocket to give me a poke in the leg and I shook myself. “Barry said it was an animal attack.”

  That earned my boss a glare from Mallard hot enough to make him jump. While Barry stared back at us, confusion muddying his features, the detective closed his notebook with a snap. “Humans are animals, too. And even if it’s nothing criminal we have to go through the motions.”

  “Because of who her father is?” I asked before my don’t-say-everything-you-think-meter sprang into action.

  He gave me an appraising look, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, something like that.”

  Dee tugged at the inside of the apron pocket and I glanced down. She mouthed something but my eyesight wasn’t good enough to tell what it was.

  “Can I go now?”

  The detective acted like he hadn’t heard but PC Bryant nodded and gestured towards the others. “Just stick around for a while. We might have further questions.”

  “Fine by me. I don’t come off the clock for a few hours.”