Mouse of Ill Repute: A Cozy Mystery for Animal Lovers by Ellen Riggs

Author:Ellen Riggs [Riggs , Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781990613500
Published: 2023-10-16T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Thistledown Festival was everything a fall fair should be, with an overlay of Halloween that nearly tipped the balance into tawdry. Jilly clucked in disgust over the decorations but it wasn’t long before she was cooing instead. The witch hats, skeletons and ghosts lost all power once she noticed the displays of artisanal products, ranging from cheese to preserves to soap. Jilly had tried several times to get a line of Runaway Inn products off the ground, but something always intervened. Specifically, murder. Creation generally took a back seat to cremation, it seemed. When we weren’t solving a murder we were worrying about the next one. The adrenaline rarely let up.

Keats mumbled something that sounded mocking. This dog was fully present in his life, doing exactly what he wanted to do. That was his personal philosophy and he urged me to adopt it.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said. “Let’s just enjoy the fair. I want a caramel apple.”

“Is he talking to you?” Kestra Redding asked, following so closely she ran into me when I stopped at a stand. “The dog, I mean?”

“Sort of. Not really. He mumbles and I interpret as suits the occasion.” I turned to Jilly. “They only have candy apples.”

“Hold out for caramel,” she said. “I doubt I’ll have time to make you any this year.”

“I thought you hated Halloween,” Edna said, rolling her eyes at me.

“I do. And I love caramel apples. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

She scowled at me. “They most certainly are. Candy, caramel and chocolate do not belong on apples. An apple is perfect unto itself.” She pulled one out of her pocket and took a bite. “I got this Macintosh from your own orchard, whereas you’ve been buying fancy hybrids from the gourmet store.”

“I like my apples a little sweeter. Hence the caramel coating. But when the apocalypse comes, you can be sure I’ll appreciate those Macs.”

“I appreciate them now,” Jilly said. “I managed to put up some apple chutney last week. Feels like I just get into a groove when murder intervenes.”

“Exactly what I was telling Keats.” I turned to Kestra. “But not really.”

“Olive mentioned you guys were interesting,” she said. “And Halloween haters. Meanwhile I love everything about it.” She did a girlish twirl. “The jack-o’-lanterns, the costumes, the masks… all of it. But I’m a sucker for any holiday.”

I looked around at my friends. “She’s from Oppositeville.”

“That’s because I grew up at Howler Hall. No holiday is too small to be celebrated. We do it up big there with crafts, cookery, choir and so much more.”

Edna looked at Gertie and smirked. “More room in the bunker for us.”

“I don’t have to understand that to know it’s an insult,” Kestra said. “But we’re all a product of our upbringing, no? I’ve embraced my holiday trauma instead of resisting it.” She smirked, too. “You two wear camo and ponchos and I wear themed sweaters.” Unzipping her coat, she revealed a different hand-knitted sweater—this time a black cardigan featuring orange witches on broomsticks.

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