Caught and Collared by Jackie Layton

Author:Jackie Layton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: small town, wedding, beach read, southern fiction, dog mysteries, jilted lover, podcaster
Publisher: Beyond the Page Publishing

Chapter Twenty-three

Early Wednesday morning, I went for a run on the beach. The sun rose slowly, spreading glorious red, orange, and yellow streaks across the sky. I usually called Marc to join me for morning runs, but he had a very early meeting. Sunny had only blinked at me when I got up, so I let her continue sleeping. Running solo gave me time to gather my thoughts on the murder.

I reached the north end of the island and circled around a sand castle that had been battered by the sea. You’d never know I had twisted my ankle the day before.

The ocean was flat and water gently lapped the shore this morning. The early brackish fragrance was one of my favorite smells.

I slowed to a fast walk and lifted my arms to stretch them over my head and to the sides. If I tried such a maneuver while running, it’d more than likely lead to a fall.

In the distance near the pier, a man swept a metal detector back and forth. Tourists rented metal detectors for fun, but a few people owned them, hoping to supplement their incomes with various treasures they could sell to pawn shops or auction off online.

Two women walked toward me, pumping their arms to match their long strides. I transitioned back to jogging until I drew close enough to recognize the women. “Hi, Hannah. Mrs. Cummins. I don’t usually see you two this early.” If not for Marc’s influence, I wouldn’t have begun early morning runs on the beach.

“Morning. We’re trying something different. Mom, do you remember Andi Grace Scott?”

“Of course. You made your political announcement at her plantation, and she almost got killed.” The older woman appeared to be in excellent shape.

“I wouldn’t exactly say it was almost my last day on earth.” I thought back to the day in question. “Actually, you’re right. It was a close call.”

Mrs. Cummins said, “I’ve been out of town helping my sister and her family while she battles cancer, but I kept up with Hannah’s campaign.” The older woman’s hair wasn’t quite shoulder-length, but the ends curled up. The wind blew her bangs back, making me glad my hair was long enough for a ponytail. Her eyes narrowed. “I fully support my daughter’s effort to become our next state representative.”

“Mrs. Cummins, Hannah has my full support.” Did she imagine I didn’t want Hannah to win? “I was honored to host her announcement at the bed-and-breakfast, and I’d never do anything to damage her campaign.”

“Very well then.” Her smile looked forced. “Please, call me Georgia.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Hannah jogged in place. “We’re not going to get our metabolism up high enough if we keep talking. Andi Grace, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” I jogged in the direction of the pier. Had Mrs. Cummins been trying to give me a warning? What had Hannah told her about me? Could the strangeness of our encounter be related to Dirk’s death?

Jeremiah Pritchard turned out to be the man with the metal detector. The neat gray ponytail, tucked-in shirt, and faded jeans were his trademark wardrobe.

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