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The office area was much larger than his personal quarters. He didn’t need much for himself, just a living area, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. The dogs had more space than he did in the back of the building, with both an outdoor pen and an indoor facility with all the comforts any dog might desire. It made sense, since there was only one of him and he sometimes had as many as a dozen dogs in his care. At the moment he had ten. No, nine, since Judge had found a new home.
Janie walked toward him, an incredibly fat calico cat cradled in her arms. She smiled as he opened the door to his office for her and she walked in, heading straight for his exam room where she carefully placed her calico on the metal table.
“Queenie isn’t feeling well,” Janie said. The older woman was a little plump, a little short, and dressed for cool spring weather in a baby blue outfit and matching tennis shoes. The shoestrings were bright pink.
Silas placed a finger under Queenie’s chin and looked into the cat’s eyes. Yeah, cats were different. They didn’t always cooperate, and he had learned not to push. But today Janie’s fat cat was willing to talk to him, in her own way.
“The only thing wrong with Queenie is her weight. Are you giving her the special food I ordered?”
“I am! She loves it. It makes a nice addition to her regular meals.”
Silas looked down at Janie. Her eyes positively twinkled as she teased him.
“Why are you really here?” he asked.
She didn’t try to make excuses, once she’d been caught. Janie gathered a content and very healthy Queenie into her arms and sat in one of the hard chairs against the wall. “I hear you’re seeing Gabi Lawson.”
“News travels fast in this town.”
“It’s not like we have a lot to do,” she said. “Gossip is a favorite pastime. Besides, you know very well how it works around here. At least ten Springers could’ve told you last week that you were going to ask Gabi out again and she’d say yes. Half of them would’ve warned you against it, but, well, you’re going to do what you’re going to do.”
Did Janie know what was in the works? Was she aware of Jenna’s plan? He rarely wished for the ability to see into a human’s mind, but right now he did. “Why would anyone warn me away from something so simple as dinner with Gabi?”
Janie dipped her chin and looked up at him with censuring eyes. Queenie purred, oddly amused by her owner’s insistence on being here. “She’s a Non-Springer, and trust me when I tell you, she’s not entirely who she appears to be.”
Who was? “Neither am I. Or you.”
Still, he wondered what the woman meant. Janie wasn’t psychic, she just had a magic touch with plants of all kinds. She did have several psychic friends, though, and the old-timers in this town had a tendency to stick together. The strength and focus of those psychics varied, fluctuating with time, dependent in some cases on the weather or the stages of the moon.
Did she know about the plan? If the news spread, if those who didn’t want to isolate the town found out what Jenna and the Milhouses had planned, there would be all-out war.
Clint Maxwell was adamant that Mystic Springs remain open, a part of the world. He and Silas had been friends since elementary school. They weren’t close friends who shared everything, but they did get together now and then to watch a football or baseball game. He should’ve gone to Clint as soon as Jenna had approached him, but he’d delayed the call until last night and had too easily given up, after talking to Marnie.
War among Springers would be ugly. Times of high emotion always enhanced magical abilities, and nothing triggered high emotion like talk of Brigadoon. Silas reminded himself of the saying about it being better to ask forgiveness than permission. In this case he was pretty sure Clint, and others, would not agree.
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
Janie made a scoffing sound, but it was a kind one. Then she sighed and continued, “I also want to make sure you’re going to vote for Clint in the special election next week. Believe it or not, some are actually planning to vote for Harry! As if a Milhouse would ever make a decent mayor. Who wants a werewolf as mayor?”
Apparently a Bigfoot shifter was a cut above the werewolves. “Of course I’ll vote for Maxwell.” Not for the first time, he suffered a moment of envy. When Marnie Somerset had found out what Clint truly was, she’d accepted him. Loved him. She’d stayed.
“Don’t you forget,” Janie said.
“How could I?”
“I didn’t always like Clint,” Janie mused. “Jenna’s grandmother Viola and I were great friends, rest her soul. Naturally Viola loved her granddaughter and blamed Clint for everything, but…” Janie glanced away and sighed. “I judged too quickly and harshly, I know that now.”
Janie didn’t rise, even though she’d been assured that Queenie was fine and she’d accomplished her goal of warning him away from Gabi. “Besides, the lot where Alice’s house once stood is still an eyesore, though the city has made efforts to clean it up as much as possible. Clint says I can turn the plot into a neighborhood garden when it warms up a bit. I told him I didn’t really need to wait for warmer weather, but he seemed insistent. I think he’s worried that if Harry wins the election he’d just tear it all down.”
“Why would he?”
“He’s a Milhouse. That’s reason enough for his obstinance.”
Silas offered Janie a helping hand, and she took it, steadying herself as she rose to her feet. “Do be careful with Gabi,” she added as he saw her to the small waiting room and then to the door. “We… I don’t want you to be hurt, and I don’t think she’ll be around much longer. You know how some Non-Springers are. Here today, gone tomorrow.”
It was true, the few strangers who wandered into town rarely stayed long. Now and then they’d fit in, maybe even marry as Marnie and Cindy and a couple of others had. But for the most part, those who wandered in eventually wandered out.
It was a surprise to realize that the idea of Gabi moving on bothered Silas. It stuck in the pit of his stomach, and he had the sudden urge to drive downtown just to make sure she was where she was supposed to be.
