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

“Hot Hog, then.” Holmes stood up and stretched. “I’ll meet you there.”

• • •

At nine o’clock that night, Holmes walked Trixie and me back to the inn. During dinner, Kim had flirted with everyone except me. She knew no bounds. Ben, Holmes, the waiter—everyone seemed to love her.

“Not that it’s any of my business,” said Holmes, “but I don’t think I’d trust Kim alone with Ben.”

“She’s quite an operator. But I trust Ben. He’s too . . .” I stopped myself. I almost said he was too boring to have an affair! That was terrible on so many levels that it boggled my mind. “He’s too decent to have an affair.”

We walked up the front steps, and Twinkletoes greeted us at the front door, mewing and twisting around our ankles. She even touched noses with Trixie.

Holmes gazed at the guests milling around in the Dogwood Room. “Where do you suppose the dotty grandmothers are?”

Twinkletoes scampered through a dog door in the wall just past the dining tables.

The second I removed Trixie’s leash, she followed Twinkletoes.

“Kitchen.” We said it simultaneously.

I opened the door that bore the words Staff Only , and found that Oma’s private kitchen looked almost like I remembered it. Oma, Rose, and Gingersnap lounged comfortably before a blazing fire.

“I’m so glad you left the kitchen intact!” I gushed. “I always loved this room.”

In the glow of the fire, Oma seemed healthy and relaxed. “Me, too, liebchen. It has always been my private refuge.”

Ancient beams ran across the ceiling. A fireplace with a raised hearth occupied a spot in a stone wall. The huge center island was still a blue that verged on farmhouse turquoise.

Although it was dark outside, I knew the big windows over the kitchen sink on the far end of the kitchen overlooked the mountains and the lake. The door to the left led outside to a small herb garden and Oma’s private patio.

But, sadly, the back staircase had been a victim of the remodeling. In the rear right corner, where the stairs should have been, a bookcase lined the wall.

Holmes fetched two wine glasses. I poured Pomeranian Pomegranate wine into the glasses.

“It’s research,” said Oma. “I wouldn’t want to offer our guests something I hadn’t tried first.”

I perched on the hearth, warming up by the fire. Candles flickered gently. Oma had switched on only the lights under the rustic pine cabinets. Their cozy glow bathed the room in golden light.

Holmes snagged another comfortable chair and relaxed, his long legs outstretched so that his shoes nearly touched mine.

Classical music that I couldn’t quite identify played very softly in the background. If I hadn’t known about Oma’s troubles, I would have thought it the most wonderfully warm and comforting moment. The way life should be. Good wine with good friends and beloved family. Twinkletoes kneaded in my lap while Trixie looked on. She fixated on my eyes, sending a very clear message— That should be me on your lap!

I reached out to stroke her fur. Apparently, that wasn’t enough. She curled up next to me, pushing against my thigh as tightly as she could.

Oma didn’t make eye contact with me when she said, “I heard the Ben checked out. Did he go home?”

Holmes snorted. “Sorry, Holly. You’re being too calm about this.” He faced our grandmothers. “Ben is staying with Kim at her dad’s cabin.”

A smile twitched on Oma’s lips. Why did I get the feeling that she and Rose would high-five if I wasn’t present?

“There’s nothing to worry about,” I assured them. “Ben is a very responsible person. I’m sure that’s why Kim’s father insisted he accompany her. She pulled a fast one on Ben earlier today and disappeared for hours. She claimed she was shopping, but all she carried was one bag with dog treats in it. A flimsy attempt to back up her shopping story if you ask me.”

“I hope you’re right about Ben’s character, because Kim is definitely a vamp,” said Holmes.

Rose frowned at Holmes. “Does that still mean what it used to mean?”

“Sure does. Ben is probably fighting her off as we speak.”

I had to come to Ben’s defense. I might have been let down by his totally unromantic proposal, but poor Ben was a good guy. “I hardly think he would have proposed to me if he planned to fall into Kim’s arms.”

Oma bit her lip.

Rose snickered. “Are you talking about that e-mail he sent you? Honey,” she shook her head sadly, “you marry him, and I swear I will be the one who jumps up and makes a fuss when the preacher asks if anyone objects to the marriage.”

“That’s because you don’t know him. He’s a nice man.”

Trixie took that inopportune moment to yawn and let out a complaining wail.

Fortunately, we all laughed, and the subject changed to getting Trixie a vet appointment. In the chaos, I’d forgotten all about that.

“So Oma,” I said, “what’s the deal with Peaches and Prissy Clodfelter? Why do they despise us so?”

Rose spewed wine. She sat up straight and dabbed at her blouse. “I hope this doesn’t stain. Liesel! You never told Holly?”

“Told me what?”

My grandmother sucked in a deep breath and gazed at the ceiling. “I suppose you’re old enough to know now. Peaches is what my generation called a gold digger.”

Rose chuckled. “She’s a devil in a skirt.”

“She wanted to marry your father.”

“ My father?” I shuddered at the thought. “When was this?”

“About the time your parents decided to divorce. Peaches came around claiming your father had gotten her pregnant.”

“With Prissy?” My hair stood on end. “Please tell me Prissy isn’t my sister!”

“Have you seen the size of that girl?” Oma asked. “There’s never been a Miller that tall. No, Prissy’s father was someone else, but Peaches thought she could con your dad into marriage.”

“Wait a minute,” said Holmes. “I’m the tallest in my family. It happens.”

Rose leaned toward Holmes and me. “The reason Peaches hates Liesel so much is because Liesel had the baby tested.”

“Oma!” I exclaimed.

“I am many things. But I am not a fool. I was not going to allow that woman to destroy your father. If the baby had been his, that would have been one thing. But I knew it wasn’t.”

My head reeled from the revelation. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“It is no longer important,” said Oma. “Old stuff that no one cares about anymore.”

“Peaches still cares about it,” I said.

“If she resents me, then it is her problem. She is the one who lied. I did what I had to do and have no regrets about it.”

An hour later, Holmes walked Rose home, and Oma trundled off to bed with Gingersnap. I pretended to go up to my quarters, but I simply left my purse on the coffee table and promptly returned to the second floor. I located the housekeeping closet, where we kept the cleaning supplies and linens, and rummaged around. Trixie waited outside the door. I found two blankets and a pillow. That should do the trick.

I tiptoed down the hallway to the balcony overlooking the reception area. Murmuring voices stopped, and I could hear footsteps on the stairs. Probably Oma! There wasn’t any place to hide.

I hurried back to the housekeeping closet and called Trixie. The silly girl wouldn’t come. Would—not—come. Evidently, she had a fear of small spaces—the elevator, the bathroom, and now the housekeeping closet, which was the size of a walk-in closet. Glancing toward the staircase, I lunged at her, scooped her into my arms, smuggled the writhing dog inside, and closed the door.

She fought me with all her strength. “Quit that! No one is going to hurt you.” Thank goodness she didn’t bark.