Murder on the Hoof: A Mystery (Colleen McCabe Series) by Kathryn O'Sullivan

Author:Kathryn O'Sullivan [O'Sullivan, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2014-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

As the sun set over the sound outside Colleen’s kitchen window, she sat at her dining room table, hunched over the words of Alfred Victor Iannarelli, the man who, she had only an hour ago discovered, was the author of the Iannarelli System of Ear Identification and a pioneer in the field of earology. She combed the pages of his book, searching for insights into what had been on Rich’s mind the days before his death. One thing she had discovered by reading the text was that the human ear was as unique as fingerprints and because of its distinctive features could be used for identification purposes. She was now convinced that Rich’s fascination with ears had little to do with a fetish and more to do with trying to ID someone. Whom Rich was trying to identify and why were still very much a mystery.

Smokey sprawled on the table, stretched her paws under the book’s pages, blinked several blue-eyed kisses, and purred. Colleen had been so engrossed in her reading that she hadn’t paid attention to when the Siamese had jumped on the table. The cat knew that this was normally a forbidden behavior and seemed to be relishing this rare occasion when it was being allowed. “Let me see your ears,” Colleen said, rubbing the cat’s soft, pointy gray-tipped ears. Smokey chirped and rolled her head upside down. Colleen had never thought much about ears before, but now couldn’t seem to keep from looking at them, even if they were feline.

The sound of a car engine outside drew Sparky away from where he had been lying at her feet and into the foyer. He gave a low growl and stared intently at the front door. She rose and felt the foot she had been sitting on tingle as blood rushed into it. She hobbled to the window next to the door and peeked through the curtains. Bill climbed the stairs and waved. She released the curtain. What was he doing here? She collected herself and opened the front door. Sparky rushed forward, happy to see Bill.

“Hey there, Sparks,” Bill said, using his special nickname for the Border collie and rubbing the dog on the head.

Sparky raised his nose toward a bag that Bill was carrying. He lifted the bag out of the dog’s reach. “I brought you dinner,” he said. “Unless you’ve already eaten.”

The smell of the food drifted past her nostrils and some of her recent unhappiness with him faded. “Thanks,” she said, and her stomach growled.

“Looks like I got here in the nick of time,” he said.

Her cheeks flushed pink. “Sorry,” she said, and closed the door behind him as he stepped into the foyer. “Is that Chinese food?” she asked, catching another whiff of the bag’s contents as she moved past him into the kitchen.

“Your comfort food, right?”

Whenever she felt out of sorts or under the weather from a cold, Chinese food had always soothed her. She took the bag from him and crossed to the counter, Sparky on her heels.

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