Brambleberry Bay Murder Club by Addison Moore

Author:Addison Moore [Moore, Addison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD.
Published: 2022-07-27T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Killion

The dog is growing on me.

The cat might be, too.

But Hattie Holiday is a menace to society.

“Ms. Holiday.” I frown as she saunters into my office with a wave.

Her cat is stuffed in a tote bag with her head peering out, and Rookie bounces along beside her. But it’s the bright pink box in Hattie’s arms that makes my stomach growl audibly.

It’s a little past one in the afternoon, and thanks to the fact the coroner’s report came in just as I was about to take off for lunch, I missed the meal altogether.

“I come bearing a gift from the clubhouse bakery,” she says, setting the box on my desk before opening it. “Cops like donuts, right?” She gives a cheeky wink before taking a seat across from me. “Go on, don’t be shy. I got six chocolate crullers. The four powdered donuts are filled with raspberry jelly, and there are a couple of bear claws—aka apple fritters.” She shrugs. “There were two glazed old-fashioneds, but both Rookie and I had one on the way over. So how’s the case looking?” She bats her lashes, and I’ll be darned if they’re not as long as those atrocities she adhered to the headlights of her truck. Although on Hattie they look perfectly natural. Everything about Hattie looks perfectly natural, which is refreshing these days.

She gives a tiny nod as if agreeing with me.

I slide the donut box over a notch and lift the coroner’s report from under it in an effort to keep it clean of the crumbs I’m about to rain over my desk.

“Thank you,” I say, nodding to the treats. “Your stereotypical assessment regarding cops and donuts happens to be accurate in my case. And I missed lunch. As for the case, I’m sorry, Hattie. But it’s none of your business.”

She clucks her tongue. “I was hoping to do this the easy way.” She takes a moment to pluck her cat out of the bag and settles her over her lap as if she were setting up shop. “Miles Jeffries, the coroner down at the Brambleberry Morgue, let me know he submitted his report to the detective in charge.”

I inch back a notch as Rookie comes over and I give him a quick scratch between the ears.

Growing up, I had a Golden Retriever. Smartest dog on the planet.

Rookie begins to whimper while hitching his head toward that box full of fried sugar.

Apparently, Rookie is just as smart.

“He is whip-smart,” Hattie says. “He wants a donut. Chocolate is lethal to dogs, so he can only have the jelly-filled.”

A sigh heaves from me as I toss one to him.

“There you go, buddy. Enjoy it.” Before I can finish the thought, he’s already wolfed it down. “Hattie, why in the world would you have contacted the coroner?”

Not that I need an answer. It’s clear Hattie Holiday is going to be an unavoidable road bump every step of the way when it comes to the Abbot case.

She narrows her eyes, looking rather unamused.

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