ONE
1:00 Monday Morning.
Moon Lake, Indiana
You would think grown humans would be smart enough not to swim in their clothes, thought Buckle.
That privilege was reserved for the animals.
Didn't humans know how lucky they were? When their clothes were wet, they could take them off. Not us beavers. When our coats are wet, we have to wait for them to dry. Sometimes they just smell bad, Buckle thought scanning the waters of Moon Lake, searching for Spirits Lily Collins and Nia, and Healing-Witch Anna Krone. They usually hung out on Spirit Island, but not tonight. They were nowhere to be found.
“Lily, Nia, Anna. We need your help. Quickly. Please come. Please, come quickly.”
There was no answer.
“I told them last week when that strange human was foraging around that he was trouble. They were too concerned with something else to listen to me. Now see what happened. They should have paid attention.” Buckle swam in circles under Spirit Island, which floated inches above the center of Moon Lake.
Where could they be? If he didn't get help quickly, the human sleeping in his clothes in the water would not last much longer. The coyotes were doing their best to keep his mouth above water, but they couldn't hold on forever.
Buckle swam towards Sydney Hovan’s pier. Her dogs Carmichael and Porter, loved to bark. If he could get them to alert Sydney, maybe she would follow him. It was worth a try.
Where the heck was Lily? It would be so much easier if she were here. Lily, Nia, and Anna were up to something causing Moon Lake's rhythm to grow chaotic.
Carmichael and Porter—a black lab and a paunchy pug mix—were resting under a willow tree next to the pier. Syd's spoiled rotten cats, Coco and Charlie, rocked with the breeze on a low hanging branch above. Life on Moon Lake as it should be.
He used his broad tail to smack the water a couple of times and spray the cats. Hehe. That got Porter's attention.
“No time to play tonight. Have you seen Lily?”
“She, Nia, and Anna were in the kitchen.”
“I need her out here now. We have an emergency on Echo Lake.”
“I'll get her.” Carmichael unfolded his legs, rose, and trotted to the kitchen door where he banged until Grace Hovan, Syd's mother, let him in.
While Carmichael was gone, Buckle filled Porter in on the details.
“Are you sure you don't need our help?”
“Let's see what Lily says.”
Buckle watched as the little red-headed Spirit exited the house, followed by Nia, her Native American friend, and the blond and beautiful Healing-Witch Anna.
“What is it? We were watching a re-run of 'Rio Bravo' with Sydney and Grace. John Wayne was quite a man,” Lily Collins said.
Buckle filled them in.
Lily nodded and looked at Nia and Anna.
“I know the location. We shall meet you over there.”
“What about Sydney?” Porter asked. He looked so serious now.
“We will check it out. If we need you, I’ll have one of the coyotes begin howling the distress call.”
“Good Luck, my friends,” Carmichael called from the pier.
TWO
Moon Lake Dance Studio
Monday 10:30 AM
“Great job, Austin. The first lesson is always the toughest. It takes about three lessons before your brain starts to 'think dance.’ Soon you will be dancing this box and asking, 'Why was that so hard?” Moon Lake Dance Studio owner Sydney Hovan said. She walked her first student of the day over to the tables encircling the grand ballroom inside the newly renovated three-story schoolhouse.
“Thanks, I expected this to be an awful experience. I had fun.”
She smiled. “You don't need to look so surprised.” Funny how many men were amazed to find out dancing was fun.
“I'm ashamed to admit this,” he said, looking at the floor. “My grandmother would not get off my back. She threatened to disown me after the news camera caught my lackluster dance skills at the last governor's inaugural ball. She finally just set an appointment and told me to be there or else.”
“And the 'or else' worries you?”
His eyes twinkled when he talked about her.
“You haven't met her. She ran three businesses while my grandfather fought his disease. She is the poster girl for Don’t ever let them see you sweat.”
“My kind of grandmother!” She handed him a progress form to initial. “We use this form to keep track of your progress. Sort of a lesson diary.” He initialed it and handed the clipboard back to her.
So, Austin was a politician wannabe. Hm! Maybe 28. Dark suit. Well-groomed. Just shy of six feet. Athletic build. Nice looking with beautiful brown eyes and a contagious smile.
He put on his suit coat and straightened his tie. The male returning to control ritual. She'd seen it on too many businessmen to count.
“I appreciate you making a special appointment for me. My job takes me all over the state weekly.”
She walked with him through the old schoolhouse hall. The high ceilings were echoing their footsteps.
“Not a problem. I’ll see you on Thursday. Have a wonderful week.”
As soon as he was clear, she completed a perfect heel turn, marched into her office, and slammed the door.
“Lily! Lily! You cannot hit students over the head when they are off the beat.”
Lily, Sydney's great, great, great, grandmother, and resident studio ghost-spirit, or healing spirit, or whatever she called herself appeared front and center.
“It doesn't hurt him. After a few nudges, he got on time.”
“Yeah, but I have to keep a straight face.”
“Can't help it.” The ghost shook her head. “He was getting on my nerves. His grandfather used to play sax with the great Benny Goodman Orchestra during the 1940s for Heavens' sakes. His bloodline drips with rhythm. It is in his DNA but M.I.A.”
“Do not do it again.” She was wasting her breath.
“How did he get on my schedule anyhow? He wasn't there yesterday when I left,” she said on her way to the bathroom. Lily followed behind.
“You need to fix that bathroom door. It bangs and bounces when opened.”
Lily was trying to change the subject. She did it often.
“Good thing my alarm clock went off thirty minutes early,” which was more than likely due to Lily's tinkering.
“Your great, great, great, great, great, Aunt Adelia thanks you for the gift certificate you sent to him. He is her several greats grandson,” Lily said, perched on the sink.
“I sent a gift certificate, Huh. So why did I do such a thing? And who is paying for it?” The bathroom mirror caught her attention. Hm. Need some lipstick. Like now. And this mirror needs cleaning.
“You'll figure it out.”
“And the certificate includes?”
“Take your hands off your hips, Young Lady, and don't give me that tone. You cannot talk to me like that.”
“Sorry,” she said, palms forward.
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