Cheerio and the Day of Dread, page 1
part #6.50 of Red Pine Falls Cozy Mystery Series
Cheerio and the Day of Dread
By Angela C Blackmoore
Copyright 2018 by Angela C Blackmoore, All Rights Reserved
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, events, or places are purely coincidental. All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Cheerio and the Day of Dread
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Author’s Notes
Chapter 1
Cheerio bounced through one of several paths he took throughout his island territory, only occasionally diverting due to one of his tormentors in the form of a squirrel coming down a trunk and chittering at him, or even running for another trunk. He didn’t try too hard to catch them, but there was always a hope that the bobbing furry monsters might miscalculate, giving him a mouthful of fur from its tail. It had only happened once when there had been snow on the ground, but even the faint hope spurred Cheerio toward his efforts.
Still, nothing like that had happened today, though he was able to chastise quite a few of the squirrels that he was familiar with. The big gray one had given him the longest discussion. Cheerio actually circled the tree which the large patriarch was on several times before they both gave up on each other, allowing Cheerio to continue on his patrol.
He was on the stretch that took him to the water, since it was always interesting to see what washed ashore on the tiny beach, or even to bounce around in the water on occasion though it was too cold for Cheerio to want to swim. Still, getting his paws wet wasn’t that bad, and the water was usually clear over the polished, smooth stones that slowly sunk into the deeper water.
But today was a little different, with the mud having been disturbed by a small trench torn into the muddy beach. There was a scattering of boot prints which contained the smell of humans he didn’t recognize. Two trails of them, one much more recent than the other.
Intruders.
Cheerio wasn’t overly bothered by strangers though he kept a close eye on them whenever they showed up on the island, but he hadn’t seen any around the house. His sharp ears would usually pick up the front door creaking open, and he’d come to investigate if he wasn’t already in the area. This had not happened, so obviously these strangers had either gotten lost or something. Either way, Cheerio needed to get a handle on them to make sure they weren’t up to no good.
He followed the footsteps up the embankment and further into the forest that made up most of the island’s interior. The big trees kept the overgrowth from becoming too dominate, but there was still quite a lot of brush and small trees he had to work around. Whoever these people were, and there were two of them, they hadn’t traveled in a straight line, seeming to move in toward the house on occasion before moving back out on a meandering course that mostly stayed outside of view.
The newer trail crisscrossed the older one on occasion, which he surmised was probably from earlier this morning but he stuck with the newer one, wanting to track their movements across his island. Sticking to the fresher smells, he eventually found an area that the intruders had spent some time, finding a couple of small fold-up chairs and some weird net hung between two trees that had a lot of bits of cloth attached. The pieces of cloth looked like they blended in fairly well with the forest floor though he couldn’t really see a lot of colors though the shades matched pretty well.
They’d stayed here for a long time, since their smells inundated the area along with the muddy mess they’d made of the leaves on the ground. Cheerio was confused, not understanding why they’d stay here when the house was so much more comfortable. Still, there was quite a lot more trail to follow so Cheerio eventually moved away from the strange site, eventually finding himself back at the small beach.
The intruders, whoever they were, were no longer on the island as far as Cheerio could tell, but he didn’t like it. They had come and left without greeting his pack leaders. Why they didn’t, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to tell one of them and figured the one that moved around in the forest the most was probably the one he should get. Abby, his favorite one that he loved most, liked to take walks but didn’t usually go out into the deeper forests unlike the older male who smelled like sawdust.
As such, Cheerio made a beeline for the garage where the old one seemed to live most of the time. When he got closer, he could hear some of the loud buzzing that came from within along with the clear smell of cut wood wafting out of the large open door. Cheerio decided to wait, not liking the loud, piercing sound that hurt his ears, so busied himself with circling around the house and across the huge deck in the back. He wanted to make sure there weren’t other stranger smells closer to the house, and finding none he moved back toward the garage, although he kept his distance.
True to form, the noise finally stopped, replaced with other sounds that weren’t quite so irritating to his sensitive ears. Cheerio padded back toward the large opening with the door that closed from above. Moving inside, he sniffed the deep wood smell, watching Mr. Wilberson moving his hand and some tool across a piece of wood. Each movement resulted in a pale, curved shaving arching up and onto the floor.
Normally, Cheerio would lay down, putting his head on his paws, content to watch the older man work for hours, but not today. Today, he needed the old man’s help so Cheerio barked once, then moved forward and looked up at Mr. Wilberson.
The old man ignored Cheerio for several minutes until finally Cheerio sat down and barked again, wagging his tail. Mr. Wilberson paused, eying the white, brown, and black dog with a frown. “Can’t play catch now, Cheerio,” he said, pointing at the piece of wood he was working on. “Rabbit cages won’t build themselves. Go find Abby.”
Cheerio panted a moment, understanding some of the words like ‘Abby’ and ‘catch’, but not getting the response he wanted. Mr. Wilberson turned back to his piece of wood, creating more of the shavings on the floor. Barking again, Cheerio pawed at Mr. Wilberson’s pants before moving toward the door, looking backwards over his shoulder at the older man. It was clear to Cheerio what he was asking, but sometimes it was just frustrating trying to get the humans to do what he wanted.
Mr. Wilberson paused, putting down the smoothing plane and turned to face the dog. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked at Cheerio who did a spin, then barked, moving toward the door again and stopping. It was clear the dog wanted something, and he didn’t quite have the vibe of wanting to go play catch. The bark was just a bit lower than the usual happy yip that Cheerio liked to give when he wanted to play.
“I swear, you rotten dog, this better be some real Lassie thing and not you just finding a dead raccoon,” Mr. Wilberson grumbled, reaching for his jacket and putting it on as he took a few steps toward the garage door. Cheerio did bark happily this time, moving out onto the gravel round between the main house and the garage. He knew that Mr. Wilberson had many different inflections of grumpy voice and that this one was actually quite agreeable. Coupled with his moving to follow, Cheerio knew he had the help he needed.
Slowly, he lead the older man through the forest toward the where the weird net and stools was located. Mr. Wilberson didn’t move fast compared to Abby, but he was consistent and deliberate in his walk. He also knew this island like the back of his hand, and had spent decades making sure the wild ground was still fairly flat and not treacherous to walk. It helped him now, letting the old man continue his enjoyment of the island even in his old age.
When they came to the hide, Cheerio barked and bounced, disappearing behind the net and sniffing once again around the small hallow. Mr. Wilberson froze, seeing the camouflage netting stretched between two bushy fir trees. “What the heck?” he said to himself, approaching slowly and following Cheerio around the small opening at the edge. His face grew thunderous as he looked around, clearly not liking what he was seeing and indicating to Cheerio that he’d done right by getting the old man.
“Looks like we have some visitors,” Mr. Wilberson said, stroking his chin as he eyed the two stools. “Shame they didn’t come up to the house and introduce themselves. Been too much of that lately.” He stopped, reaching down and ruffling Cheerios ears as he came close. “Looks like they plan on coming back, too. I guess I’m going to have to upset the neighbors with my shot gun again.”
Cheerio looked up at Mr. Wilberson, not having a clue what he said but happy for his attention to the issue. There had been intruders, and the old man seemed to be concerned, if also a bit amused, about it.
“Okay, boy, anything else to show me?” he said, pointing at the stools and foot prints in the mud. Cheerio barked, then moved off and led him down to the beach. After slowly making their way down, Mr. Wilberson only nodded, and then returned to his garage whistling a pleasant, anticipatory tune. It was getting late and he figured whoever it was may have been watching them for a good part of the day. He’d have to introduce himself tomorrow.
Chapter 2
Molly cursed softly as the boat ground against the bank, jerking her off balance and making her happy she hadn’t stood up. If so, she’d probably have gotten her pant legs wet from the bottom of the boat. It was far too cold to have enjoyed
She wished they’d chosen a better partner for this endeavor. Jim was a bit of a knuckle head, not impressing Molly at all with his intellect but at least he didn’t complain about stomping around in the woods. She was pretty sure he was partially stoned half the time, too, but so far it hadn’t been too much of a problem.
Sitting out in the woods and watching a quaint little house on an island wasn’t rocket science. In fact, it was pretty boring with almost nothing to do but play on her tablet. Her battery usually lasted long enough, so it wasn’t terrible, but there was only so many gem games she could stomach.
The man that had hired her and Jim told them they’d be at it for a week, with potential to go longer. She knew they were trespassing, but figured the guy was a private investigator that just wanted someone to do some of the garbage work for him. It didn’t seem dangerous, since he’d told them to take pictures of anyone coming or going, and take notes on times. That’s it. She was fine with that.
“I bet it’s about that younger woman,” Jim said as he pulled the boat up out of the water and onto the mud of the small beach. Molly had hopped out mostly on dry land, but Jim had gotten his boots wet, though that didn’t seem to bother him. She figured he probably had waterproofing on his boots or something. “She’s probably cheating on her husband with that park ranger. It can’t be about the old folks. They’re too boring.”
Molly shook her head. “I don’t know, unless they actually do something illegal. It would be just out luck if they’re a bunch of cannibals or kid traffickers. There’s got to be a reason they live out here on an island.”
Jim shuddered but also laughed as he squinted his semi-bloodshot eyes. “That would be something! We probably set up the blind on some unmarked graves. All of these trees look very healthy, fed from the bodies of their victims,” he said, wiggling his fingers and eyebrows.
“God, would you please shut up. It’s hard enough to sit there for hours without thinking about bodies,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. Jim was such a man-child. “Also, keep your voice down. We’re getting closer and sound probably travels farther than you think it does.”
“They’re all still asleep,” Jim scoffed. “The brunette doesn’t go out jogging with her dog for another hour, at least. She keeps herself in shape though. I guess man flesh is healthy.”
Molly started to roll her eyes again, stopping herself because if she didn’t her eyes would get tired by the end of the day. “Are you really telling me you’re attracted to someone who you also suspect is a cannibal?”
In answer, Jim chuckled and Molly could almost picture the lecherous grin on his face. They arrived at the blind, slipping behind the camo netting and adjusting their folding chairs. Molly had brought a thermos of hot coffee which she quickly poured into a small mug, cupping it in her hands as she blew at the steam.
They had both dressed warmer than yesterday, having learned their lessons by freezing and leaving early. With the money the man had paid up-front, they had enough to buy thermals and wear other layers that they hoped would keep them warm through their inactivity. They’d also brought a small fold-out table that they could put stuff on since the cooler had been annoying since they kept having to take things out. This way, they wouldn’t have to pick everything up whenever they needed to get into it.
“You’re on first watch,” Molly said, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. She knew Jim wouldn’t argue, because then he’d get a chance to see the younger gal in her tight running pants. It annoyed Molly to no end, but she didn’t mind taking a nap.
So far, nothing had been even the least bit interesting. No one seemed to be nervous, or skulking about. The old woman stayed in the kitchen a lot, and the old man who she guessed was the husband was most often out in the garage or off in one the outlying sheds. They hadn’t snuck close enough to see what was in any of them, but it could be anything from yard tools to dead bodies.
They had been told not to go close, just to observe from a distance. Jim had wanted to get closer, but Molly had told him if he did, she’d tell the man who hired them and he probably wouldn’t be paid. So far, that threat had kept Jim away but she wasn’t entirely sure it would hold for the entire week.
“You two trespassers better not move or my double-barrel is going to give you a very bad day,” came a gravelly voice from just behind them. Molly turned her head, freezing at the sight of the older man who came out from the bushes behind them with her eyes locking onto the larger-than-life shotgun barrels that were pointing at her. She couldn’t see Jim since he was slightly behind her, but didn’t hear him try to bolt either. She breathed an internal sigh of relief. He’d have to take a second to dodge around the net anyway, and she doubted the net would stop the shotgun blast.
But she would probably stop some of it.
“Get up, and put your hands on your head, and don’t think about running,” the rummy eyed old man said. “Cheerio hasn’t eaten yet, and he’s a heck of a lot faster than you are.”
The dog that usually went running with the younger woman came out then, standing beside the man and staring intently at Molly and Jim. Every other time she’d seen the dog yesterday, he’d seemed rather happy-go-lucky, but now he looked a bit more dangerous. He wasn’t growling, but he looked ready to do something and she didn’t want to find out what.
Slowly, the two of them stood and put their hands on their head.
Chapter 3
Cheerio lay on the floor of the garage and watched the two strangers sit in the chair with the odd, silvery stuff that Mr. Wilberson had wrapped around their feet and hands. He’d seen the older man use it many times on things around the shop, but had never seen it used on another human until now. Tilting his head to the side, he tried to piece it together but ultimately had to give up.
Cheerio could tell these people weren’t exactly welcome since they both seemed angry and afraid. Mr. Wilberson himself was wary of them and also a bit angry even though there was a bit of amusement worked in as well. Still, it was clear to Cheerio that he had to keep an eye on them, so he did. Not growling, but on alert for anything that might threaten his human.
After using duct tape to secure them, Mr. Wilberson pulled up a chair and sat against the garage wall. His shotgun rested next to him within easy reach as he contemplated the young people with one of his favorite scowls. It was almost guaranteed to get a reaction of some sort and he wasn’t disappointed.
“You can’t keep us here,” Molly said angrily. “It’s kidnapping. You’re going to get in serious trouble, mister.”
“So’s trespassing,” Mr. Wilberson answered in his craggy voice. He poked at the cameras and tablet sitting on a table next to him with one of his gnarled fingers. “What were you doing out there hiding in our trees?”
“Nothing,” Molly answered. “Just birdwatching. We were out canoeing and found the island. We didn’t know anyone was here but didn’t think it was a problem.”
“Yeah! We were just birdwatching,” Jim said, half stuttering. Whereas Molly was staring intently back at Mr. Wilberson, Jim’s eyes were wide with fear.
Mr. Wilberson snorted and narrowed his eyes further before shaking his head. “Fat chance of that. You were here yesterday as well and you had a view of the house. Besides, there’s only crows on the island this time of year.” He paused, picking up one of the cameras and turning it in his hand. “I don’t know how to work these dang things, but I bet I can find someone who does. Will I find a bunch of bird photos?”
“My father’s a lawyer!” Molly growled. “I swear if you don’t let us go right now, we’re going to sue you and press charges! Terroristic threatening!”
“I’m sure you’ll try. I’m an old man. Frankly, I don’t care what you do or don’t do. This is our island, and it’s my job to protect it.” Mr. Wilberson wrinkled up his nose, almost spitting before remembering how much Hazel hated the habit. Instead, he reached down and patted Cheerio on his side. “Me and Cheerio’s job, anyway, and we take our jobs seriously.”
