Davis, Krista - Murder, She Barked - A Paws & Claws Mystery (A Paws and Claws Mystery)

“Making Wagtail into a pet vacation destination was the boost we needed. The town is flourishing. Way beyond anything we anticipated. Wagtail is going through a development spurt.” Dave raised his open palm and gestured around him.

“The whole town? Not just the inn? Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“I told you I had a surprise.” Oma appeared pleased with herself. “Can you believe I was able to keep it a secret? Of course, in the beginning, we didn’t know if it would work out. But dogs and cats are part of the family today. So much so that we’ve had a remarkable influx of residents. Land prices have soared. We’re having a little building boom. It’s all about lifestyle and living where pets are appreciated.”

“I wondered how you managed to get around the health code. Is it legal to have dogs in the eating area?”

Dave coughed. “Technically, the law doesn’t prohibit dogs or cats. There are rules and regulations, but they’re about food preparation areas. You’ll find that every eating establishment—”

Oma interrupted him, “And there are quite a few!”

“—has made special arrangements to provide for companion animals within the bounds of state law. In addition, we have passed an exception here in Wagtail which we’re trying to get through the state legislature so we’ll have more leeway.”

“Looks like a beautiful day after all that rain. If only Sven . . .” Oma’s voice trailed.

“Uh, Holly, where did you drive from yesterday?” asked Dave.

“A vineyard near Charlottesville.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was.”

“Were you there with anybody?”

I looked at Oma, who shrugged.

“My boyfriend.”

“Anybody else?”

“Is this an inquisition? What are you getting at, Dave?”

He sucked in air. “I just feel like I ought to verify your whereabouts and the time you left there.”

I stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You can’t be serious! You think I was involved in Sven’s death? I didn’t even know him.”

Nine

“I’m not accusing you of anything. Still, it would be helpful if I knew you were elsewhere at the time it happened.”

It was my turn to look down at my plate—mostly so he wouldn’t see me trying not to smile. I’d bet anything this was his first murder investigation. “Got a pen?”

He handed me one, as well as his little spiral notebook. I jotted down Ben’s name and phone numbers.

“Thank you, Holly. I’d better get down the mountain to that car. Thanks for the breakfast, Liesel.”

“Anytime.” Oma lowered her leg and tried to put some weight on her foot.

I jumped to my feet, scaring the dog, and assisted Oma in standing.

“Such a nuisance. You’re a dear to come and help an old woman.”

“You’re not that old.” Since I was the result of a high school tryst between my parents, they were younger than the parents of my friends, some of whom had parents who were seventy-two, like Oma.

“This ankle is reminding me that I’m not as young as I usually feel.”

Together we hobbled to the front door of the inn, the little dog staying just ahead of us.

“Now go buy something pretty. I’ll be fine.”

I watched as she shuffled away. She turned around. “And don’t forget to buy your cute dog a proper collar with a name tag.”

I caught my reflection in a mirror. Oma was right. I looked terrible. The stores probably wouldn’t be open yet, but I could have a walk around town. Prepared to give my credit card a little exercise, I stepped out onto the stone porch that fronted Wagtail’s pedestrian zone. Stone pillars supported the porch roof and a wrought iron railing ran between them.

The crisp, cool air of fall invigorated me. A man in a beret sat in one of the rocking chairs far to my left. He cupped a steaming mug in both of his hands, the picture of contentment. His bulldog peered through the railing at the goings-on in town.

“Holly!”

My grandmother’s best friend, Rose, trotted up the front steps and threw her arms around me. “Oh my goodness. It’s been far too long. Let me look at you.” She stepped back. Rose’s warm hazel eyes took me in. Wrinkles of wisdom had moved in around them, and laugh lines etched her face under cheeks as round as lady apples. She still wore her hair short and yellow blonde, but gray streaks had lightened it a bit. I suspected she still drew admirers, even in her seventies. She wore a long-sleeved red boatneck T-shirt and navy trousers. Had I ever seen her when she wasn’t smiling?

“Is this how they’re dressing these days? You’re a mess, child!”

I laughed. “Did Oma tell you to say that? I was drenched yesterday and need to buy something to wear.”

She hugged me again. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Holding my hands, she tugged me over to a set of rocking chairs and sat down.

She faced me, reaching down to stroke the Jack Russell. “I hear you have a serious boyfriend. Tell me about your sweetheart. Is he handsome?” Her shoulders lifted in excitement.

“He’s nice looking.” Ben was cute in a bookish way. Medium height, he had never been much of an athlete, but that didn’t matter to me.

“Nice looking?” Her mouth puckered like she had bitten into a lemon. She recovered quickly and swiped her hand through the air. “Aw, we girls are always more interested in what’s inside a man. Does he make you laugh?”

“He’s fairly serious. Not much of a joker.”

Rose blinked at me. “But he makes your toes tingle, right?”

She was so cute, believing all those silly tales about love. “Rose, he’s a good man. You’ll like him.”

“Good man?” Her chin pulled back, and she drew the words out as though they were repulsive. “What kind of phrase is that to describe your boyfriend? Honey bunch, if you’re not feeling fireworks and tingling toes . . .”

Panic raised its ugly head for a moment. I hadn’t given Ben more than a passing thought since I left him in Kim’s clutches. Could Rose be right? Nonsense! I was being silly. Oma had been my overwhelming concern. Who could think of anything else with all that had happened?

“Rose, is Oma ill? She won’t say.”

Rose’s upper lip pulled inward and her eyes darted to the side. Sucking in a deep breath of air, she said, “I’d better let her tell you that.”

My heart sank. It must be bad. If it weren’t bad news, they’d have told me by now. I melted against the back of the chair, glum, and the dog leaped into my lap.

Rose clutched the arm of my rocking chair. “Now honey, don’t be upset. To be honest, I’m more worried about you than I am about Liesel. You brought your dog with you, but not your boyfriend.”

“She’s not mine.” As soon as I spoke, I knew that wasn’t true. I would be keeping this rascal with the bright eyes, no matter what Ben said about it. I told Rose the sad story about how she came into my possession. “I don’t suppose there’s a car detailer in Wagtail? I hate to take Ben’s car back to him in such a sad state.”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Thanks, Rose.”

She disappeared into the inn, and I strolled down the steps into a little plaza.

I turned to gaze up at the inn. Much smaller than a hotel, but larger than a bed-and-breakfast, the inn fell somewhere in between. Wagtail had been a popular destination in the late 1700s, thanks to the mineral springs. Old documents proved that Thomas Jefferson and his family had visited regularly to partake of the waters. It had been a booming resort for decades.

The inn had been built in the 1800s by a wealthy man whose ailing wife frequented the waters for their curative powers. His son later expanded the huge six-bedroom house to eight bedrooms with an addition. Local stone covered the walls in a variety of colors that we had delighted in as children. They ran from white to deep red, and gold to brown, with plenty of pink and salmon and the occasional black stone. We used to hunt for green and blue rocks, but there weren’t any.