Greyhound at the Gravesite: Pets Reporter Mystery by Kyla Colby

Author:Kyla Colby [Colby, Kyla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cinnamon Cozies
Published: 2018-05-20T22:00:00+00:00

Sam found Charlie Hume by the dessert bar Greta was setting out, which included her famous caramel rolls, strawberry lemon bar, and a peanut butter chocolate éclair cake. Marty the malamute was nowhere to be found. Probably making friends with the other guests.

“Hey, Mr. Hume,” Sam began. Charlie turned around. “I’m Sam Hodges, Pets Reporter for the Birchwood Bugle. You called my colleague Tom about the china plates smashed in Henrietta Duveaux’s front yard.”

“Yeah, my malamute got scratched up by them. You can’t have things like that hiding in the grass, not in this neighborhood. Too many sensitive paw pads walking about.”

Charlie Hume was in his sixties. Sam had never met him, but she knew he had never married and led a quiet life. Seclusion seemed to suit most of the houses down Wichitaw Way, especially compared to the bustling social lives of those on Sam’s parents’ Maple Lane. At least Charlie had come out for Tammy’s last barbecue of the year.

Charlie picked up a strawberry lemon bar.

“How is Marty doing, by the way?” Sam asked.

“He’s fine. It was just a scratch, thankfully.” Charlie picked up a lemon bar as well.

Sam picked up a plate with a slice of Greta’s peanut butter chocolate éclair cake and took a quick bite of the gooey, decadent dessert. But she had to wrap this up to get to Henrietta’s soon. The sun was nearly set. Tammy was arranging glowing neon light poles around the backyard and passing around mosquito spray.

“But I meant to call Tom again today,” Charlie began. “More of them showed up this afternoon.”

Sam nearly choked on her cake. “More plates?”

“Yes, I saw that woman hurrying out with them overstuffed in a brown box this afternoon. When you rush around haphazardly like that, of course some are going to fall and break and pose a danger to the neighborhood.”

Sam stared in disbelief. Someone was still taking the family heirlooms from the home, days after the murder. Had they not had time to take them all on the day of Henrietta’s death? There was one person who Sam knew was at the sanctuary every day. “Did you know the woman?” Sam asked.

“Nah,” Charlie said.

“What did she look like?” Sam said, hopeful.

“My eyesight’s not so good,” Charlie said. “She looked a bit blurry.”

Sam’s heart fell, though at least she’d gained some clarity. Her murderer, or at least an accomplice, it seemed, was a woman.

“Thank you, Charlie,” Sam said, turning to go.

“Did you come with someone?” Charlie asked.

Sam turned back with a look of disbelief on her face. Was Charlie asking if she’d brought a date to the barbecue?

Charlie pointed to Marty, who had reappeared and was poking his head out from under the dessert table. “He’s mine.”

“Oh,” Sam said, relaxing. “Yes, I have a greyhound. Or, I’m fostering a greyhound named Pumpernickel.” Sam suddenly realized she hadn’t seen Pumpernickel in the crowd for a good hour. The dog was usually by her side, and though it had only been for a few days, she felt uneasy.

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