Another Part of the Forest (The Foxglove Corners Series Book 11) by Dorothy Bodoin

Author:Dorothy Bodoin [Bodoin, Dorothy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
Published: 2011-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty-two

When two days passed and nothing earthshaking happened, I breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared no one up there had heard me, that life was going to go on without a ripple, a succession of cookie cutter days, all the same.

For the present, that was good.

Josie, having grown impatient with the status quo, called again. “Mom says I’m bothering you, Mrs. Ferguson, but is there any news yet?”

“I’m afraid not,” I said. “And you’re no bother, Josie. Call me anytime.”

I realized I might regret issuing that invitation. In truth, I hadn’t looked for Sandy lately. By now her trail, never red hot, was cold. My search had turned passive as I waited for somebody to contact me.

I had to change that. But how?

“I’ve called all the animal hospitals within a thirty-mile radius,” Josie said. “No one brought a collie puppy in, and I keep calling all the shelters.”

“That’s good.”

Assuming someone had picked Sandy up, this told me the person wasn’t conscientious about having a vet examine her. Or she’d been taken far away from Lapeer County. Or, of course, the little pup was dead.

“We’re not going to find her, are we?” Josie said quietly.

The air of resignation in her voice tugged at my heart. “Nobody knows the future, Josie.”

She sighed. “Gosh, that’s like what Mom says. ‘We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.’”

I thought of all the lost-dog-found stories I’d read or heard in my life. Dogs left behind on vacation turning up at home sometimes years later. Pets being reunited with their owners after natural disasters. I could tell a few happy ending tales of my own involving my collies and those of my friends.

The problem was Sandy hadn’t been with Josie long enough to think of Josie’s house as her home.

“We’ll keep looking for her and hope for the best,” I said.

I closed the cell phone gently, adding to myself, “But where?”

~ * ~

One person in Foxglove Corners who did know what was going to happen in the future—sometimes—was my friend, Lucy Hazen. A celebrated author of horror novels for young people, Lucy was a multi-talented lady.

Along with reading tea leaves, she knew when a disaster was imminent. When a tornado was forming or some other dark force was making its way into our lives, Lucy often had prior knowledge of the event. I wished I’d been able to consult her earlier.

Lucy had been away, visiting her sister in Texas. She’d timed her vacation to escape the hottest of the southwestern weather, but she should be home now. With the cell phone still in my hand, I punched in her number.

“Come over anytime, Jennet,” Lucy said. “The sooner the better. I’m missing a month’s worth of news.”

“A lot’s been happening. As usual I’m involved in some of it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she said, and we settled a time: the next day after school.

Lucy lived in an atmospheric country house she’d christened Dark Gables. It sat far back from Spruce Road in a surround of private woods.

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