Born to be Styled: A Paranormal Cozy Animal Mystery by Jeannie Wycherley

Author:Jeannie Wycherley [Wycherley, Jeannie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bark at the Moon Books
Published: 2024-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Under cover of darkness, Pickle and Toby crept into the salon and quietly closed the door. Waiting for his eyes to adjust, Toby noticed that the salon had taken on a different scent. He could still smell the flowery fragrance of shampoos and conditioning treatments, but now there was a new mustiness from where it had been closed up all day. The scent of wet dog had grown stronger, emanating from the pile of damp towels that lay abandoned next to the stainless-steel bath.

There was something forlorn about the once vibrant salon, and the pair stood respectfully for a moment, until Pickle sighed and broke the spell. “Do you think they’re here?”

Toby edged over to the gap in the skirting board and sniffed it. It smelt ratty, for sure. “Sal?” he whispered. When there was no response, he tried again, a little louder. “Sal?”

“Sssssssssssh!” A hiss from somewhere close by. Toby glanced to his side. A pair of black eyes glinted at him, a little head peeking out from behind a mop and bucket combo.

“We’re here,” Toby told him, unnecessarily.

Sal stepped out from behind the bucket, head swivelling. “You came by yourselves, didn’t ya?”

“We did,” Toby confirmed, straining to see whether Sal was alone. “Is P—”

“Ssssss!” Sal placed a finger on his lips and hurried over to catch Toby by the collar. He used the collar to give himself a little leverage in order to whisper in the dog’s ear. “We need to do this quietly without anyone noticing.”

“Then why, in the name of dog biscuits everywhere, are we doing this where we’re likely to be seen?” Toby couldn’t quite get his head around this.

“Because if we desert our posts we’ll be dead!” Sal explained, both front paws digging into Toby’s ear. Toby stretched his neck, trying to shake the rat off. It didn’t work. Sal only clung on to him more tightly. Toby had a feeling he’d be able to wear earrings after this encounter, whether he wanted to or not.

“I’ve been thinking about this, and we need to make it look as though you came back and attacked us.”

“But we wouldn’t do that,” said Toby.

“I would,” Pickle contradicted him. “In a flash!”

Sal shuddered.

Toby sighed. “Okay. What’s the plan?”

Sal nodded and clapped his paws together. Pom edged out from behind the mop carrying what looked like a glue bottle, except the contents were red. “We’re going to have a tussle,” Sal said. “Make a bit of noise, drop a bit of fur—”

“Whose fur?” Pickle asked suspiciously.

Sal wobbled his head. “A bit of ours, a bit of yours—”

Pickle curled her lip. “Over my rotting corpse.”

Toby intervened. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just do what needs do—OUCH!” He spun around to confront Sal, who had a sizable pawful of Toby’s fur in his grasp. “What are you doing?”

“Ay!” Sal lifted his shoulders and waved his hands like an Italian cheerleader waving her pompoms. “You said you didn’t mind.”

Toby licked at a new bald patch just above his elbow. “You might have given me some notice!”

“It hurts less if you don’t know it’s coming,” Sal told him.

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