Hunted by Christy Barritt

Author:Christy Barritt [Barritt, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781502985163
Google: TqULogEACAAJ
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-10-24T16:46:42.926121+00:00

Detective Meadows met me in my parents’ driveway. I really didn’t want to upset my folks any more than they already were today. I prayed that my sister had thought of some great excuse as to why I wasn’t inside the house right now, some kind of conversational sleight-of-hand trick.

“So you’re telling me you think the dead woman is the dog walker?” the detective repeated. She stared at me, that same skeptical, distant look in her eyes.

“That’s right. One of the neighbors—” I glanced down at the paper in my hands where I’d scribbled her name. She wouldn’t give me her address. At least she’d been that smart. “A Mrs. Linda Goodgame said that she walks the neighborhood every day at seven. She sees a girl walking Big Boy.”

“Who’s this Big Boy?” The detective shifted her weight from one foot to the other, still looking confused.

I wanted to growl. “The dog! I nicknamed him Big Boy. It’s no big deal. I just couldn’t call him mutt, though. Maybe John Dog . . . you know, instead of John Doe.”

The detective didn’t look amused. “I get it,” she deadpanned.

I straightened. “That’s not really important here, though.”

“So what makes you think the body we found is the dog walker?”

“Mrs. Goodgame hasn’t seen the dog walker in three days. That fits in with the timeline of her death.”

The detective shifted as if I’d made her uncomfortable. “How do you know that? We haven’t released that information to the press.”

I was right? Yes. I loved being right. “It was obvious she hadn’t been dead that long! It doesn’t take a detective to figure that out!”

“Sierra,” Chad whispered, warning in his voice.

I know, I know. I need to watch my tone. Sometimes I got a bit fired up, though. This was one of those times.

“Will you just check her out? Please? I’m trying to stay out of this. I really am. But when clues keep smacking me in the face, what am I supposed to do?”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll talk to the Lennoxes and see what’s going on. Okay?” Detective Meadows conceded.

I nodded, resisting the urge to beg her to find Big Boy while she was at it. That poor dog. I hoped he wasn’t scared and all alone out there.

Then I remembered Big Boy and his essence. He wasn’t the scared kind of dog. He was a take-life-by-the-horns type of canine. He’d come back when he was ready.

As soon as the police pulled away, Sharo pulled up in a cute little Mercedes and came sauntering down the driveway toward me. I noted the mud on her tires. She didn’t seem like the muddy-tires kind of lady.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Of course.” I nodded toward her car. “Doing some off-roading?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I had to park in the gravel parking lot at the bakery, if you must know.”

One of the many hazards of being a wedding planner, I supposed.

“Don’t forget—your parents are counting on you today, Sierra.” With that, Sharo sashayed inside.

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