"I'm sure Mister Wiggles is fine. Okay, I'll get somebody to look into it soon." Emma Swan, Savior and Sheriff of Storybrooke, pressed the "end call" button her cell phone, slumped on the couch next to her 13-year old son, and sighed. Henry looked up curiously from his Gameboy at his mother burying her head in her hands.
"Is evil afoot tonight?" he asked, half-teasingly. Emma raised her head, and leaned back into the cushions.
"I doubt it," she replied. "It was a guy named Gustav looking for his Irish setter, Mister Wiggles. Says he's been missing since this morning, which, technically, is not actually long enough to be officially missing." Her eyes tightened as she moved to gaze out the window at the post-rain fog thoughtfully.
"But..?" Henry prompted, inferring from her expression that there was more to the story. Emma turned back to her son.
"But… it's the fourth dog missing this month," she concluded. "It's a lot for a small town, especially somewhere like Storybrooke."
"But since you don't have time to check it out, you said you'll get someone else to look into it," Henry continued.
"Yeah, I've got my plate full with the Wicked Witch on the loose, and everyone else is swamped too." She crossed her arms in frustration.
Henry switched off his Game Boy, "All the grown-ups, you mean. I can check it out for you."
"Oh no, kid, I can't have you out in the open with flying monkeys on the loose," Emma frowned at him.
Henry's reply was cut off as the door to the loft apartment opened, and his grandparents, Snow White and David (Prince Charming) returned from their walk. Or waddle, in Snow's eight-months-pregnant case; thanks to the time-warp of the first curse, they were roughly the same age as their adult daughter.
"Hi guys, what's going on?" Snow hung up her jacket, forehead creased as she took in their uncertain faces.
"Dogs are going missing in Storybrooke, and Mom doesn't have anybody free so I'm going to check it out," Henry rushed in an explanation before Emma could say something that terminated his involvement in the mystery.
But Emma tried to do so anyway. "Henry, I don't want you wandering around town, or worse, outside of town while there's very real danger."
Snow and David murmured in agreement and David chimed in, "We've already seen both the Wicked Witch and her minions in action, Henry. Now, I know you're trying to be brave and contribute to helping to the town…"
"Like the prince that you are," Snow inserted.
"...but there is a very real risk of you getting hurt or captured if you're out on your own," David finished.
Everybody frowned while Henry examined his grandfather's words for a loophole.
"Wait, if I'm not on my own, could I at least interview the people with missing pets?" Henry eagerly proposed.
"Maybe…" Emma resisted giving in. "Who would you have go with you?"
"How about me?" Snow offered. "Since no one will let me go on the Witch hunts, I can drive Henry to the dog owners' homes after school tomorrow and we can both look around their yards for clues."
"You are the best tracker in town," David allowed.
"And it will show the community that their mayor is willing to roll up her sleeves and help," Snow lifted her chin with a smile.
"Okay," Emma shrugged, "You two can look into the missing dogs."
"Yes!" Henry exclaimed. "Operation Mad Dog is on!"
"Mad Dog?" Emma lifted her eyebrows as Snow and David turned to the kitchenette to start supper.
"Operation Mister Wiggles doesn't sound as cool," Henry explained.
"Of course not," Emma rolled her eyes and smiled, "Just don't go anywhere without Snow."
"I let Max out into the back yard to go potty while I set my dentures to soak before bedtime. When I went to let him back in, he wasn't there!" 72-year-old Fanny Schreck sniffled and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.
Henry, Snow, and their hostess were seated on overstuffed pastel furniture in what he guessed must be the most stereotypical little old lady living room to have ever existed. The wallpaper and furniture were vintage 1970s and doilies abounded on both the coffee table and loveseat arms. Every horizontal space was occupied by tiny porcelain figurines and every vertical space was filled with the photos of many generations of children. Low, dark clouds spat tiny droplets at the sun-catcher filled windows, which looked out on a fenced yard and the woods that bordered the Hunter's Grove neighborhood.
"Can you tell me what day that was?" Henry jotted down the details in his Iron Man notebook on the page after Mister Wiggles, Karl, and Greta's information.
"The 19th," she nodded, keen to help. "He's my grandson's dog, but I puppy-sit when Eric has a long shift at the cannery."
"I'm just going to look at the back yard and see if there are any holes in the fence where he could have gotten loose," Snow heaved herself up from the armchair after rocking back and forth twice for momentum.
"Has Max ever gotten out before?" Henry continued the interview after Snow had gone.
"Well, yes," Fanny's eyes dropped to the carpet. "Sometimes when I go out the front door to get the morning paper off the stoop, he gets out and chases a squirrel or stray cat. But he always comes back after an hour or two! I don't know what could have happened to him this time! I let Eric down." She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.
Henry set his pencil down and patted her arm, "Don't worry, Mrs. Schreck, we'll find out what happened to Max."
"You're such a sweet boy," she tried to smile at him through her tears.
"Thanks," Henry half-smiled back. "Do you have a picture of Max, so we know what to look for?"
"I sure do," Fanny reached down to pull a ruffled violet photo album from the shelf under the coffee table. She opened it to the back and pulled out a photo of a well-fed sheepdog and a smiling young man with dark hair.
"Here you go," she placed the photo in his hand. "This is from last summer, so Max looks just the same."
"Perfect," Henry pulled himself up out of the loveseat. "I'm going to see if my grandmother found anything in the back yard. I'll call you if we find Max or any leads."
"That would be wonderful, thank you so much!" Fanny enthusiastically replied. "I know there's not much hope when he's been gone so long, but if there's anybody who can find him, you and your grandmother can."
"We'll do our best," Henry pledged, and pulled on his jacket as he passed through the sliding glass door to the back yard.
He found Snow White standing at the back of the yard with her hands on her hips, staring over the white picket fence.
"Did you find anything?" he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.
"Yes. There are only paw prints inside the fence, which you would expect," she explained. "There are no holes in or under the fence. On the outside of the fence, however, there's one small set of human prints between the fence and the forest."
"Meaning what, exactly?" Henry tilted his head to one side as he looked at the footprints in the muddy, winter-browned grass outside the fence.
"With the rain we've had, the prints aren't clear enough to identify an individual, but someone human definitely came up to the fence and lifted Max over it," Snow turned to her grandson.
"So…you think maybe the Wicked Witch took him?" Henry named the only villain currently operating in Storybrooke that they currently knew of. Her history of threatening Dorothy's dog was also incriminating.
"Maybe, but it doesn't make any sense for Zelena to kidnap the dogs of people who aren't… well…" She gestured vaguely at the house.
"Who aren't major characters?" Henry guessed.
Snow sighed, "Yeah. I mean, none of these people are mentioned by name in the book, are they?"
"No," Henry replied. "That was the first thing I checked. If they're even in the storybook at all, they're background characters."
"That's what I thought," she said. "Gustav looked familiar from around town and back in the Enchanted Forest, but I can't even put a name to their faces until they introduce themselves."
"Zelena hasn't asked for a ransom or anything, has she?" Henry asked.
Snow White shook her head, "Not for a single one, including Greta."
"Being a champion-bred Great Dane, she'd be worth a lot," his gaze rested on Max's paw prints. "I don't think the Wicked Witch has anything to do with this."
"You're right, it doesn't feel like her at all. It's not the sort of flashy statement or sneaky plot she likes to make." She sighed and lifted her gaze to the brooding clouds, "Another new villain. What villains go after people's dogs?"
Henry had really studied the storybook detailing the last two decades in the Enchanted Forest before the Evil Queen's (Henry's adoptive mother, Regina) first curse ripped nearly everyone out of it and into Storybrooke. His efforts, and the intervention of his mother, Emma, had resulted in that curse finally being broken.
"The only two villains known to target pets are the Wicked Witch, who we agreed probably didn't do this, and Cruella De Vil," the answer came to him easily.
"Hmmm… well, I happen to know that Cruella went through a portal to another realm well before the first curse," the corners of her mouth dropped even lower.
"Really? What happened?" Henry's eyebrows shot up.
She shrugged nonchalantly, "Some sorcerer or his apprentice, I forget which. Both Cruella and Ursula the Sea-Witch went through together. Nobody knows where."
"So there's a chance it could be her. We should follow the footprints," he looked for a back gate to the fence.
"Nuh-uh, that's way too dangerous without at least another armed adult," Snow turned away from Henry and waddled slowly toward the gate at the side of the house. With a final glance at the dark woods, he trudged along after her to her car.
"I know we're missing something," Henry clicked his seat belt. "We just need to find it."
"Well, I know I'm missing a cup of cocoa," Snow half-smiled at him. "Want to stop by Granny's Diner?"
"Yes!" he smiled back. "And don't forget the cinnamon!"
"I wouldn't dream of it," her smile spread as she put the sedan in gear.
"Hi Henry, Snow!" Granny greeted them as if they didn't come into her diner each and every day. "Hot chocolate with cinnamon for both of you?"
"You know it," Henry confirmed as they slid into their usual booth.
"Henry!" the warm voice of Archie (aka Jiminy Cricket) called, as he wiped his shoes on the entry mat and closed the front door behind him.
"Hi Archie!" Henry waved.
The bespectacled psychologist stopped beside their table. "It's been awhile since we've had a session. How have you been since you got back your memories of the last year?"
"I've been great…but kinda bored until today," Henry smiled genuinely back. "While everyone else is looking for the Wicked Witch, Grandma and I are trying to solve a mystery."
"Oh, that sounds like fun!" Archie exclaimed. "What clues have you uncovered so far?"
"Not much," Henry admitted. "4 dogs vanished, and there aren't any clues apart from one set of footprints."
"Hmmm… that reminds me of some of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes," Archie mused. "Have you ever read any of those stories?"
"Henry mostly sticks to fairy tales and comic books," Snow teased.
"Well, you might find some inspiration there," Archie looked back to Henry. "Sherlock's always able to find clues that aren't obvious at first glance by using his investigative technique and figure out what they mean through his powers of deduction."
"Deduction? Is that like magic?" Henry's brow furrowed.
"No, just simple logic," Archie smiled. "Sherlock could reason exactly what each clue meant simply by determining what must have happened to leave it there. It seemed like magic to those around him, but really it was nothing more than his investigative method and his brain power."
"Maybe we could stop at the library tomorrow and find a book about him," Snow suggested.
Henry smiled, "Sounds good. I haven't seen Belle in a while anyway."
"I'm glad I could help," Archie squeezed Henry's shoulder and went to sit at the counter.
"I LOVE the Sherlock Holmes mysteries!" Belle exclaimed after Snow White and Henry brought her up to speed the next day. "I put it on the book club list last summer, so there are enough copies for both of you to look at."
"We don't really have time for a big novel right now…" Snow began.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that," Belle interjected. "The book club members all agreed novels would be too much for their busy summer schedules, so I ordered the collected short stories. If you want to learn about Sherlock's methods, the very first one, 'A Study in Scarlet,' is the best. That's where he and Dr. Watson meet and become flatmates, and he explains to Watson how he solves mysteries."
"That sounds perfect," Henry grinned.
"Let's head to my office and dig in," Snow tucked her copy under her arm with a smile. "Thanks, Belle!"
"Best of luck!" Belle called after their retreating forms.
"Hmmm… looks like we should have taken a measuring tape and magnifying glass with us," the corners of Snow's mouth pulled down.
"Yeah, or taken pictures with our phones," Henry agreed. "Grandma, do you have a map of Storybrooke?"
"Sure, Henry, there should be several in a drawer around here somewhere…" Snow White set her book aside and began rifling through drawers at random. She pulled out former mayor Regina's skeleton keys to look in the file underneath them.
"Not this drawer," she sighed, plunking the keys back in.
"I found one!" Henry announced from the file cabinet at the wall, and brought it over to the desk. He began marking four green X's with a highlighter from his messenger bag.
"Are those the disappearance points?" Snow asked.
"Yeah. In a different story, Sherlock mapped out where all the victims were found. It helped him realize the murders were related to the train schedules."
"Schedules…" she repeated, "Henry, what were the dates of the animal disappearances?"
He pulled out the Iron Man notebook paged through his interview notes. "The 3rd, the 10th, the 19th, and yesterday, the 27th."
"That's roughly eight days," her eyes widened at him.
"Huh. I wonder what happens every eight days," his eyebrows scrunched together.
"It could be someone trying to cover their tracks," Snow suggested, then sighed. "I feel like we don't have enough information. All we have is footprints and feelings."
"I know. Sherlock would have had this solved by now," his eyes went to the cover of his book, then the map. "What part of the forest do the Merry Men camp in?"
"The northeast part, over here," Snow pointed.
"The disappearances have all been on the west half of town," Henry observed. "Look, there's none east of River Street."
"Hmmm… I don't know what that means, but you're right," she patted his back, then glanced at her watch. "My brain is done for the day. Shall we start supper?"
"Sure, can I bring the map and stuff?" he looked at her hopefully. "Maybe if I show what we found to Mom and Grandpa, they might have some ideas."
"Can't hurt," Snow shrugged.
"Did you find that same set of footprints at each location where the dogs disappeared?" David asked around a bite of garlic bread.
Henry shook his head, "Only one had footprints, but the rain made it hard to get a good look at them."
"If Cruella's back and up to her old tricks, this could be the start of something very bad," Snow frowned deeply at David.
"Picking off family dogs? That's bad form," Captain Killian "Hook" Jones dabbed at a spot of pasta sauce on his black button-down shirt with his paper napkin.
"I didn't know you had a soft spot for pooches," Emma smiled and squeezed her beau's knee.
"I had a beloved hound as a child, Swan," he grinned at her. "Apart from my brother, Copper was my best mate. I haven't had one since then; they don't fare well at sea."
"Do dogs get sea-sick?" Henry hypothesized aloud.
"Aye, lad. I've only seen a handful that didn't," Hook gave up on the spot and resumed attempting to twirl spaghetti onto a fork with his solitary hand. He was careful to keep his hook safely below the table level.
Emma smirked at his reference to a handful and tried to cover it with a bite of salad.
"Can Grandma and I look around the woods on the west end of town?" Henry knew it was a long shot, but he had to take it anyway.
"NO!" all 4 adults shouted simultaneously.
Henry's eyes widened before he decided to offer an alternative with a whine. "Please? What about if we get a second adult to go with us?"
"Maybe, okay, kid?" Emma frowned at her son. "We still haven't figured out where Zelena's hiding along with her flying monkeys. You are not wandering around the outdoors, especially that creepy forest."
"Well…" he turned over her words, "What if we don't go into the woods? What if we just find places where footprints go in and out?"
"Mmm…" David growled. "But if you find footprints, will you be able to keep from following them?"
"My educated guess is no, for both of you," Emma answered, and her mother looked at her with a shocked look. "So if you want to do that, you have to find someone that I know can resist their curiosity."
"Like who?" Henry didn't need to acknowledge the simple truth about his powerful curiosity.
"How about Leroy?" Emma suggested.
"The town's drunken tell-tale?" Hook was skeptical. "If you'd rather not inform the whole bloody village, and your potential suspects, about your investigation, I'd pick a dwarf less prone to gossip."
"He's right. Grumpy isn't any better at keeping a secret than my own True Love," David grinned at Snow.
She scoffed, "Just because…"
"You can't keep a secret," Emma cut her off and everyone laughed except Snow, who looked at them all with mock outrage. "But Killian's right. Not Leroy."
"Maybe…" Snow made an obvious effort to rise above the teasing, "You could see if Robin Hood can spare one of his men?"
"Well, they can't all be making merry 24-7," David lamely punned, to a chorus of groans. "What? I can't make a dad joke?"
"Please, no," Emma pushed her empty plate back. "That's one childhood torture I'm glad I skipped."
"I'll call Mom, my other mom, and see if Robin can talk about it," Henry glanced at the microwave clock. "He doesn't have a cell phone yet, but he's probably at her house for dinner, anyway."
The adults exchanged knowing looks about the former Evil Queen and mayor's love affair with Robin Hood, whose likeness she had once put on wanted posters. After all the pain and heartache Regina had been through, starting with a childhood dominated by her murderously ambitious mother, everyone was glad she finally had her own slice of happiness at no one's expense.
"If it's okay with you, Henry, I think I'll stay home this time. All the walking around yesterday and today made my ankles swell," Snow rolled her eyes.
"We'll clean the galley," Hook quickly offered, reaching for Emma's plate and stacking it on his own.
"Thanks guys," David shot them a grateful look as he helped his wife rise. "Let's get your feet up and watch a movie."
"I'm not arguing with that plan," Snow snuggled into his supporting arms.
"Thanks for going with me," Henry looked back over his shoulder at Robin Hood. "You could have sent one of your Merry Men, if you didn't have the time."
"Not at all, lad, I'm glad for any opportunity to spend time with you", the Prince of Thieves adjusted the bow over his shoulder as the two made their way around to the back of Mrs. Schreck's property, "Besides, it is quite agreeable to have something else to worry about besides aerial simians."
"Here's where Grandma saw human prints," Henry pointed at the ground just outside the fence.
"Hmmm…" Robin bent down to examine the area. "I can see what she meant by the rain degrading them. Almost anybody could have made these tracks. I'm impressed she could even tell they were human."
"Grandma's an awesome tracker," Henry smiled with pride. "They were a little better yesterday, but it rained this morning."
"Too true. I doubt we'll discover more from these." Robin straightened up and gestured at the woods with his jaw, "Shall we go have a look about the forest edge?"
"I'd love to."
"Then let's!"
The west woods were known as lonely, but in the muted light of early evening combined with drizzly weather the overgrown place was downright gloomy. Henry shivered at the sight of a large and ragged spider web highlighted by raindrops in the branches of a long-fallen elder.
"Is this a path?" he pointed to a 6-inch-wide compacted dirt trail.
"Aye, but for deer," the experienced woodsman replied. "That isn't wide enough for people."
"I don't see deer tracks on it."
"The rain…" Robin began before narrowing his eyes. "You're right. Even under this sheltering tree there aren't any deer tracks. But there are those."
He squatted down and rested his hand on the soft earth just inside the forest margin where 3 distinct shoe prints had been spared from the rain by the branches of an ancient and heavily foliated hawthorn. Henry squatted along the other side of them, turned on the flashlight feature in his phone and took several pictures.
"They are close together… small shoes with heels," Robin frowned. "A slightly shorter-than-average woman. A woman has been stealing pet dogs?"
"I don't know," Henry said, "but the heels are kind of wide."
"Compared to Regina's shoes," Robin agreed, then blushed slightly.
Henry's eyes were on the prints, so he didn't notice the man's momentary embarrassment. "What do you think about the deer trail with no deer prints?"
Robin straightened up and looked at the trail again. "Some of my men had been complaining about the lack of large game in Storybrooke. I'd assumed it was merely a normal facet of this world, but perhaps it is related…"
Henry stood as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a shadow move deep in the woods, but when he turned his head quickly it was gone. He had the creepy sensation that he and Robin were being watched.
"What?" Robin's brow knitted.
"Nothing," Henry wore the same worried look as he took a tentative step toward the forest. "I think it was just a bird."
Robin grabbed his shoulder. "Hold on, lad. Both of your mothers were very clear that we should not enter the woods lest we attract the notice of Zelena and her…pets."
"But Robin…" Henry put on his most persuasive voice, keeping his eyes on the darkness between the trees. "Don't you want see what's out there?"
"Indeed, but either of your mums can make me very deeply regret exposing you to danger," Robin tightened his grasp. "Let's show your grandmother the pictures you made of the tracks before we do anything more out here. I dislike the look of these woods."
Henry's shoulders slumped. "Okay."
Henry lay staring up at the darkened ceiling of his room at his adoptive mother's house. His thoughts spun around Cruella de Vil, the shoeprints under the hawthorn tree, and the approximately eight-day interval between dog-nappings. Finally, he rolled over and reached into his messenger bag for a flashlight and the Sherlock Holmes book, opening it to the next short story.
Minutes later, his eyes paused on one sentence: "Before we start to investigate, let us try to realize what we do know, so as to make the most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental."
Immediately, Henry shut the book and tossed it on the floor beside the bag. He retrieved the Iron Man notebook and a pencil, opening the former to its first page, which was all about the missing retriever, Karl. The notes were haphazardly written in the order which the owners, a young couple, had recounted them.
"Elementary", he whispered to himself as he began noting details in the margins, marking stars and notes to himself by the original words, and crossing out a few entries. When satisfied, he ripped the sheet out, flipped to the first blank page of the notebook, and began re-organizing his notes. He repeated the process for the other interview notes.
Finished at last, Henry glanced at the clock. 12:45 AM. He nodded once to himself, set everything on the floor, and fell asleep within minutes.
"Tell me everything about Cruella de Vil," Henry demanded after settling in a chair for breakfast.
"I didn't know her personally," his adoptive mother Regina waved a dismissive hand at Henry's question, "She was an associate of Ursula and Maleficent, not mine."
He jotted this tidbit down. "But you heard of her."
"Only a little," she flipped a pancake on her expansive stove top. "I heard she loved furs, jewels, and luxury."
"Luxury?" Henry frowned as he wrote; this might not support his case.
"Yes," she replied. "Maleficent once complained to me that when Cruella visited she stayed up drinking gin every night and slept until noon every day."
"That doesn't fit!" Henry exclaimed in dismay. "Greta and Karl vanished before 6am!"
"Then it definitely is not Cruella's work," Regina flipped the pancake onto a plate and set it in front of him. "She liked fur but not enough to interrupt her own beauty rest."
Henry groaned as he poured warm apple butter over his pancake, "Now I have to start all over!"
"Oh, I don't think so," Regina tapped his open notebook. "It looks like you made some great observations the last few days. Maybe you just need to take another look with an open mind."
"It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence. It biases the judgment," Henry quoted.
"What's that?"
"Sherlock Holmes… or Arthur Conan Doyle. I don't know if Sherlock is real like you are," he glumly explained.
"Well, chin up," she commanded in her most regal voice. "I'm sure if you follow Sherlock's methods, you'll get to the bottom of this mystery soon enough."
"I'm trying to solve it before Saturday."
"Why Saturday?"
"It's day eight." He saw her confused look and explained, "When the next dog is due to vanish."
She reached over and squeezed his unoccupied hand, "I believe in you Henry."
A small smile rose on his lips, "Thanks, Mom."