Paws and Effect (Mystic Notch 4 4) (7 page)

E
lizabeth Post lived
on Vine Street and Hope new exactly which house. They trotted across town, belly-crawling under shrubberies and sticking to wooded areas so as not to be seen. It didn't take long before they were crouched at the edge of the woods overlooking Elizabeth’s back yard.

The old woman was bent down, digging in the ground.

Pandora’s whiskers tingled. “Is she burying something?”

Hope craned her neck for a better look. “She
is
digging in the dirt, but I don’t think she is burying the vial. It looks like she’s planting flowers.”

Pandora’s whiskers drooped in disappointment. Hope was right. Sitting next to Elizabeth was a flat of colorful pansies. Her gnarled hands stabbed at the dirt with a spade. She shifted her weight, her knees creaking and spasms of pain etched on her face. Still, she hummed as she worked.

Pandora had a sinking sensation that Elizabeth was not the one.

“She’s just gardening. Wouldn’t she be putting her evil plans into action if she was the person who stole the vial?” Hope’s words reflected Pandora’s thoughts.

“Yes, it does seem odd. Maybe she is putting on a front?”

Hope looked around. “For who? There is no one here but us.”

“She’s not doing anything even remotely evil,” Pandora said. “I can't help but feel she is not the one.”

“Maybe we should look in on the other suspects. I believe they were higher up on the list anyway, right?”

“Yes. I saw Rebecca heading toward the church earlier. Maybe we can catch her down there.”

“The church? That is supposed to be a place of good,” Hope said.

“I know.” Pandora turned back toward the woods. “Maybe that makes it the perfect place to start a campaign of evil.”

“What about Fluff?” Hope asked as they raced through the woods back to town. “He was at the police station with Felicity last night. I bet he is in on it.”

“Oh, I’m sure Fluff is in on it. Or at least he wants to be, but I don’t think Felicity’s magic is up to par and she isn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, so if she is involved, she must be working with someone else.”

“And she was at the police station with Danforth last night.”

“Exactly. And I think I saw Rebecca going out as we were going in.”

“But you saw the vial in there
after
Rebecca left, so she couldn’t have been the one who took it.”

Good point. They were going on the assumption that someone had stolen the vial during the fiasco created by the cats. It made sense that Fluff started that whole thing specifically for that reason, so now they were back to Felicity … and Danforth.

Pandora was familiar with all the paths in the woods, having traveled them her whole life. She took one that would dump them out behind the library, which was across from the street that led to the church, the same street she’d seen Rebecca walking down earlier.

As they crouched in the bushes next to the library, Pandora saw a familiar figure come out of that street.

“It’s Danforth!”

“What is he doing?” The cats watched Danforth walking up the street away from the church, looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to come up behind him … or as if he was making sure no one saw him.

“Let’s follow him!”

They scuttled out from underneath the bush, glanced up and down Main Street to make sure the coast was clear and then ran across.

Danforth had turned down a side street and Pandora and Hope whipped around the corner at high speed.

“What the—“

Pandora screeched to a halt seconds before her head slammed into an open car door. Not any car, though, a police car. Striker’s police car.

“Pandora?”

Pandora stood frozen on the side of the road. What was Striker doing here? By the way he was sitting slouched down in the front seat of his police car, it almost looked as if he was engaged in some sort of surveillance. Did he harbor the same suspicions as she?

Striker turned his gaze to Hope. “And you. I recognize you, too. You guys shouldn’t be out here. It’s dangerous.”

In a second, Striker was out of the car and reaching down to pick them up.

Pandora’s heart fluttered with indecision. Should she run or let Striker capture them and put them in his car? A quick peek into his car gave her the answer. Sitting in the front passenger seat were the ghosts of Hester and Obsidian.

Pandora let herself be caught and Striker tossed her and Hope into the back seat, shut the door and then got into the driver’s seat. He twisted around to look at Pandora.

“I don’t know how you keep getting out of the bookstore, but Willa is not going to be happy.” His gaze flicked to Hope. “And you … how did you get down here, anyway? I happen to know you live on the other side of town and are not supposed to be out.”

Both cats blinked at him innocently.

“And don't try to get away by coughing up a hairball in the backseat like you did last time.” Striker pointed to a small plastic tube on his dashboard. “I picked up some hairball remedy, and if I see any sign, I will not hesitate to give you a good dose.”

Pandora blanched at the thought of being forced to ingest the oily goop, but she couldn't help but smile to herself as she remembered how she'd escaped the car earlier in the summer by conjuring up a large hairball. She'd made an exaggerated show of gagging, belching and heaving, along with retching noises loud enough to wake the dead. All the commotion had caused Striker to stop the car and open the back door and what he saw on the floor mat had occupied his attention long enough for her to escape.

“Forget about the cats,” Hester said. “Why don’t you follow Danforth. I told you how Miles Danforth and Nathaniel Phipps were the ones who grabbed me and then fixed the trial.
They
were after the box back then and his relative is probably after it now.”

Striker turned his attention to the insistent ghost.

“I told you. I’m not sure he
is
the one. I looked up the history like you suggested, but that still doesn’t mean anything. That was over three hundred years ago. It’s not like Oscar has been communicating with Miles about this.” Striker frowned. “Unless he can talk to ghosts, too.”

“But he’s acting so suspicious.” Hester wrung her ghostly hands together

“Lots of people act suspicious,” Striker said. “Anyway, I need more proof before I can do anything. I can’t just pick him up off the street for no reason. And I can’t spend all my day on this, either. Maybe now would be a good time for you to run off and do whatever it is that ghosts do.”

Pandora couldn’t believe her ears. Striker was acting just like the Mystic Notch cats. He was ignoring what was right in front of him and claiming he needed more proof even though Hester, herself, had told him she suspected Oscar Danforth. What was up with everyone?

Obsidian looked around the front seat headrest at them.

“I see you have a friend working with you,” he said to Pandora.

Pandora glanced over at Hope. Could she see ghosts? Judging by the confused way she was looking at Striker as he talked to thin air, she could not.

“Yes. We’ve teamed up to try to stop the evil forces from using the lily extract,” Pandora said. “Did you know it was stolen?”

Obsidian’s face turned grim. “I know. My human, or should I say ghost, knows as well. She has tried to convey the urgency of the situation to Striker, here, but he’s a real stick in the mud. Seems unwilling to do anything without proof.”

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Pandora said, thinking of the Mystic Notch cats and their demand for proof.

“Have you discovered anything that could help?” Obsidian asked.

“We have some suspects but we don’t know which one to target. Nor what to do with them once we figure out who it is.” Pandora flicked her eyes to the street where she’d last seen Danforth, but it was empty. He was long gone.

Striker started the car and reversed out onto Main Street. Pandora knew she only had a few minutes left of freedom before Striker returned her to the bookstore. She cringed, thinking of the restrictions Willa would inflict on her for this latest escape.

“We don’t have much time to communicate,” Obsidian said as Striker pulled up to the curb outside the bookstore. “Our strength here is getting weaker.”

Pandora could see their ghostly figures were barely discernible now, but she wasn’t too nervous at the thought of losing Obsidian’s counsel—he hadn’t really been around to help her much, anyway. “Is there anything you can tell me that would help? Something you might know from your vantage point of the spiritual plane?” Pandora asked as Striker came around to her door.

“Unfortunately, the spiritual plane isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Obsidian’s ears twitched. “We barely get any information over here. But I do have one word of advice.”

Striker opened the car door and reached toward Pandora. She spread all four of her legs out wide so as to stop him from pulling her out of the car just long enough so she could hear Obsidian’s advice.

“Well, what is it?” she hissed.

“You must be suspicious of old alliances—the evil forces of the ancestors could be at work through their descendants. As you know, the old ways are strong. You have everything you need to know inside you. Trust the old ways … and, as you modern souls say, go with your gut, kid.”

Pandora relaxed her legs and Striker pulled her out, tucked her under his left arm and grabbed Hope with his right.

Pandora craned her neck to look at Obsidian. “Go with my gut? What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

Striker was already striding toward the door with Pandora and Hope securely held. Pandora looked over Striker's shoulder at the police car, but Obsidian had already turned away. So much for Otis’ suggestion that Obsidian might know whom they should target. He didn’t know squat. And what was worse, his advice stunk. He’d only given her the vague instruction to trust to old ways and go with her gut. Now she’d have to figure out exactly what he'd meant by that.

A
s it turned out
, Pandora had plenty of time to reflect on the meaning of Obsidian’s words. She realized it was some kind of obscure message. Why couldn’t ghosts just come out and say what they meant? They were always so flighty.

She let his words drift through her mind, trying to dissect each sentence and find the hidden meaning. He’d mentioned the old ways were powerful. Did he mean that she should pay more attention to the older cats in the barn?

But he’d also said to go with her gut
and
that the evil forces of the ancestors could be at work through their descendants. She already knew Danforth’s ancestor was one of the men who had accused Hester. Then again, almost everyone involved had ancestors dating back to Hester’s time. But her
gut
told her the Danforth was up to something.

Maybe now, given that the vial had been stolen, the other cats would see things her way. Obsidian’s message about the old ways being powerful could have meant for her to give the cats another chance before she acted on her own. Either way, she would have to wait until later that night since she was now trapped in the bookstore.

Willa had been shocked when Striker had dropped her and Hope off. She’d immediately shut the store room door—mistakenly thinking that’s where Pandora had escaped from—and made sure all exits were secured.

Pandora had had to endure a stern talking to, throughout which she’d feigned indifference, then Willa had called Hope’s human, leaving a message because the human was at work.

With all exits blocked and Willa casting a periodic watchful eye on them, Pandora and Hope were left with no choice but to snuggle into cat beds in the window and take much-needed naps. Which was exactly where they were later that afternoon when Elspeth rushed into the store surrounded by waves of turbulent energy. Pandora sensed the worry in the older woman and turned up her senses. Something was terribly wrong.

Willa must have sensed it, too. Her brow creased as she addressed Elspeth. “What’s wrong?”

Elspeth glanced down at the cat beds, her eyes widening when she noticed Hope. “Thank goodness the two cats are safe.”

“What?” Willa’s face wrinkled into a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit frazzled.” Elspeth patted the wisps of snow white hair that had escaped from the thick bun on top of her head. She glanced around the shop to make sure no one else was there, then whispered, “I’ve just come from the feral cat station by the church and I'm afraid I have some terrible news.”

“What is it?”

“It seems some of the feral cats have been poisoned.” Elspeth’s voice cracked as she said the words.

Pandora’s heart twisted. The feral cats poisoned? She ached for her fellow felines, even though she was only acquainted with a few of them.

Willa gasped. “No! How many cats? Are they dead?”

Elspeth shook her head. “Seven of the cats were affected. Thankfully, they are not dead, but Doc Everett doesn’t know if he can save them.”

“It must have been someone from town who doesn’t like the cats. They must have figured out we were sheltering them in the building on the church grounds this month,” Willa said. “But poisoning them is going too far.”

Elspeth glanced over at Pandora and Hope. “Yes, much too far …”

“What did they poison them with? I know the cats are always very suspicious of strangers and cautious of what they eat. Did they spike some food they couldn’t resist?”

Elspeth’s eyes were still locked on Pandora’s. “Something like that. It seems they were given some sort of catnip. It was laced with something that made it very strong. The cats are very ill, in a catatonic state just like if you overdosed on a medicine.”

“That’s terrible. Pandora escaped earlier and I’m just very grateful that Striker found her and brought her back. I don’t know what I would do if she were poisoned.” Willa glanced over at Pandora and Pandora’s heart melted at the human’s concern for her. Willa really did care. Which made it all that much more important for Pandora to ensure Danforth was stopped before he could do any more harm.

“It goes without saying that I’m very concerned about the cats. This doesn’t bode well.” Elspeth snuck another look at Pandora.

Was the old lady trying to tell her something?

Pandora let the humans chatter on. She turned to Hope. “Do you think this has something to do with the vial.”

Hope looked out the window, only the dark side of her face visible to Pandora. “It sure sounds that way. The celestrium lily extract would amplify the potency of the catnip. It would be just as Elspeth has described. The cats would literally overdose on the herb.”

“But why would Danforth want to kill the feral cats? They do not have the magic like we do,” Pandora pointed out.

Hope turned to face Pandora full on and Pandora was stricken by the startling contrast of her friend’s split-colored face. “I think he was just practicing, experimenting to find how much of the extract he needed to use in order for it to be fatal. And then, once he has the amount perfected, he plans to use it on us.”

Pandora’s stomach clenched in fear for Hope. The two of them had almost died together and had fought their way out side by side. She felt fiercely protective of the younger cat, like a big sister.

Pandora didn’t want to fall into the clutches of Danforth, but of all the cats, Hope must be protected the most. The old scrolls had shown she was the one with the most power and Pandora knew the balance of that power had yet to develop. If the evil-doers wanted to put a wrench in the works for those on the side of good, killing Hope was the way to do it.

Pandora’s words were grim, “And now that they’ve practiced and seen the outcome, there isn’t much time left to stop them before they put it to the intended use.”