Page 7 of Secrets of the Frostbound Cottage

‘It’s a distinct possibility.’

It really was. Excitement skittered through me; this was good. If I found BonBon, I could put all my energies into finding Orla’s parents afterwards. ‘Can you ping me the address?’ I asked. I was pretty sure of the answer; he wouldn’t have called me if he wasn’t going to give it to me.

‘Doing it now,’ Dean promised. Right on cue, my phone buzzed with the location.

‘Are you guys already there?’ I asked carefully. As a PI, you have to tread carefully when working with the police. In some situations, I didn’t mind them getting to the scene first, but in this case I wanted to retrieve Rowena’s Schnoodle-Bon without any red tape. The police could deal with the dognappers and the rest of the dogs afterwards. I wanted to be in and out before anyone knew I was there so I could get back to Orla’s case. Besides, I couldn’t imagine Rowena’s response if her precious pup had to go to the pound before their much-needed reunion. She’d probably end up putting BonBon in counselling for the trauma, not to mention herself.

‘Lucky for you, we’re having a busy night,’ Dean confirmed. ‘There’s a big protest in the centre of town. Dispatch reckons they’ll get there in about forty minutes.’

I thought about the roads and how quickly I could get there. Provided traffic wasn’t bad, I could make it in thirty minutes, twenty-five if I put my foot down. That should give me time to find the Schnoodle-Bon and get the hell out of there. ‘Thanks for this, Dean. I owe you one.’

‘By my count, you owe me about twenty.’ He chuckled, then sobered. ‘There’s no point in warning you that these guys could be dangerous, is there?’

He knew what I did as a hobby. ‘So am I,’ I replied firmly.

‘I suppose you are. Just … tread carefully, okay?’

‘Oh well, Iwasgoing to go in with a klaxon but if you think I should be quiet, I’ll give that a whirl,’ I said sarcastically.

He laughed again, then he asked me the question which by now had become almost a tradition. ‘How about you let me take you out for a drink one night?’

I gave my usual response, ‘I’ll definitely think about it. Catch you later, Dean.’

I hung up. I had a dognapped Schnoodle-Bon to find.

‘Hang tight, BonBon. I’m coming for you.’ And if any dognappers got in my way, they were about to meet the business end of my cactus keychain.

Chapter Five

There was nothing like going into a dark, abandoned urban area to give you that impending sense of doom.

I got it: if you were stealing anything, whether it was dogs, jewellery, cars orwhatever, you were hardly going to announce it with a large neon sign. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d found myself in places like this with flickering street lamps and graffiti staining the boarded-up doors. Needless to say, they weren’t my favourite locations.

For once it would have been great if someone could do their nefarious dealings in a nice sunny location. Maybe by the beach in some waterfront villa with big windows and golden light pouring through. Or maybe a crime could take place in a freaking meadow; we could give the sheep a backstory. It would totally work. Was it so much to ask?

But no, it was always this kind of dark wasteland that gave off a creepy vibe, where the shadows seemed to tremble and rats scuttled about. Not that I had anything against rats personally but they were never a great omen.

I slowed and parked up behind another car. A security camera was swivelling lazily out front. Getting caught on camera wasn’t something I particularly wanted; yes, I was following a lead but I was also trespassing a smidge. Being arrested by the very non-magical police would give me more paperwork than a taxman on a caffeine binge.

And, while I admitted to being the most useless witch in any generation of my family, being arrested would be a massive headache, not just for me but for the entire magical community. I would cause a whole heap of fuss they didn’t need and I didn’t want to lay that on them, not after the pain my family had already inflicted on them. With that in mind, I planned my route to skirt around what I estimated was the camera’s field of vision.

As soon as I cut the engine, I knew exactly which warehouse I was heading to. I’d made good time and I should have at least ten or fifteen minutes before I was joined by the cops. Easy-peasy.

Whoever had called in the barking hadn’t been joking about it sounding like a kennel: the racket was cacophonous. I couldn’t imagine how many dogs were in there, but I hoped the one I needed was among the woeful pack.

Slipping my cluttered keychain into my pocket, I edged towards the building and stopped at a large, rust-coloured door that matched Rosie perfectly.

Although I turned the handle and pushed hard, it didn’t move. It was bolted from the inside. An open door would’ve been way too easy. I was good at picking simple residential locks – everyone has to have a hobby – but deadbolts secured from the other side were way beyond my skillset. I needed another point of ingress.

The windows were at least ten feet above the ground. I scanned the area and smiled: there was a large industrial bin sitting beneath one of them … and it looked like it would hold myweight. Perfect. Nothing ever goes wrong when it starts out with a climb on a bin.

I hustled over and put my theory to the test. Because the windows were high up and the warehouse looked decrepit and abandoned, chances were good that I could simply push one of them open. If not, I’d have to break the glass and I’d move from trespass to breaking and entering. It wasn’t an ideal solution but I’d done it before and no doubt I’d do it again.

I gave the window a solid shove and grinned when it creaked open a foot or so. Yahtzee! I could easily slip through that.

When I peered down into the warehouse, there was good news and bad news. The good news was that I could see a shit tonne of caged dogs. The bad news? There was a ten-foot drop to deal with on the other side and I was fresh out of super-hero capes.

Annoyingly, there was no obliging bin for me to step on to. Long drops weren’t my favourite but I’d jumped bigger ones, both here and in Witchlight Cove. Ezra was a pro at them, but I didn’t have a werewolf or shifter’s athleticism; all I had was good old human training. I knew how to fall – all martial artists do – but it was trickier in a situation like this where I couldn’t choose my angles properly.

---