Homicides and Hedgehogs: an Animal Cozy Mystery (Dusty Paws Mysteries Book 1) by Verena DeLuca

Author:Verena DeLuca [DeLuca, Verena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aconite Cafe
Published: 2022-10-20T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Monday, April 11th

AS I PULLED up to the mobile home, at first I thought it was vacant—no car or truck in the driveway—but the lights inside the house indicated otherwise, and a flickering of the TV screen confirmed someone was home. I hoped Sandi was down at the grocery store working because it was not the best day to run into her again.

I parked my car and banged my steering wheel three times to amp myself up to confront Mike. If he pulled a gun on me again, I planned to run back to my car.

Empty beer cans littered the yard along the path to the front door. A truly depressing sight and one Sandi should not have to live with. I wished she had taken me up on my offer to move into my ranch, even though I did not know the first thing about teenagers.

The interns would have more than a few words to share about my ability to relate.

The scent of stale beer overwhelmed me as I approached the front door and knocked. To my left was a pile of cans in a five-gallon bucket that had been baking in the sun all day and smelled of death.

The TV sound stopped, and I heard Mike’s staggered steps to the door. He swung it open wide—unarmed this time.

“What’d you want?” he asked with a smile.

His skin had begun to yellow from so much drinking, and he needed a hot shower. If he were a dog, I would give him a bone and dunk in soapy water, but alas . . .

“You need to straighten up,” I said with a finger on his chest. “Sandi deserves better than a drunk for a father. Stop going to the bars and talking trash about your own daughter. No one cares what you think about her relationship with Brendan. Show a little respect for the dead.”

His eyes were wide open, and his pupils had turned to pinpoints as I unleashed on him.

“Come in,” he said and stepped aside—suddenly sober.

While the outside looked like trash, the inside was completely different. The floors were clean, it smelled of lemon and pine, and there were no empty beer cans sprinkled about. Even the sofa he offered for me to sit on looked practically new.

“I’m not proud of what happened,” he said from his own recliner. “When I get drunk, my mouth has a way of running away from me.”

I could understand that. In college, there were plenty of students who said stupid things when they were drunk, but I always figured they outgrew it. I had never been overly interested in drinking. Best I could tell, it was a great way to ruin an evening, but I also knew that some drank to make their pain go away. I suspected that Mike’s reasoning had more to do with the pain than it did with wanting to enjoy himself. He did not strike me as a man that was having fun.

“She’s out there working her butt off,” I said, pointing to the door.

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