Murder, Mayhem and Matrimony: An Utterly Gripping Southern Cozy Murder Mystery (Cottonwood Crossings Cozy Mysteries) by Fern Cooper

Author:Fern Cooper [Cooper, Fern]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-07-27T00:00:00+00:00

15

For a moment, I stand still outside of the cabin, rooted to the spot, my eyes on the cabin door. I feel frozen until I hear the cawing of the crow above me.

I break into a run.

My feet carry me for a while before it feels like my surroundings come back into focus, starting with the feeling of my feet slamming against the ground. Then my brain unfogs and, as if I’m leaving a tunnel, I hear Arthur behind me calling my name. His voice carries across the tops of the trees at first, but it fades the father away I get until it sounds like someone yelling from inside a dome, even more muffled through the blood pounding in my ears.

My heaving breaths are sharp against my ribs, stabbing them with every inhale. Even though my lungs feel ready to explode, I know that I can’t stop. I must keep going.

Sam darts in and out of the tree line beside me, his tongue flopping out of his mouth and his ears flying behind him. He threatens to pass me with his speed, but he continues at his steady pace next to me. A string of drool and his leash stream behind him, his paws so fast off the ground they look like they don’t touch at all.

He’s pretty fast for a big galumph.

I glance over at him momentarily, grateful that he’s with me, and smash headfirst into Paul, so hard that both of us almost fall down onto the dirt ground.

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” he calls out as we stumble a few feet with the inertia. He braces himself quickly, reflexively, planting his heels in the ground, and catches me against him like a football. He releases me and, alarm in his voice, asks, “Emily, are you all right? You’ve been gone a while, I was worried about you. What’s going on, why are you running?”

Sam circles us, panting heavily, his herding instincts buzzing through him after the run.

“Paul, we…” I try to breathe deeply, but the air stops in my chest. I feel unable to pull it down farther into my diaphragm. I deliver my words quickly, on my out breaths, a couple at a time. “Have to go. Arthur…he’s…”

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is he okay?” Paul asks me, concerned, taking steps in the direction I came. He peers around the trees as though the answer might present itself on a sign in front of him.

I point behind me, still doubled over, one hand on my knee as I try to steady my breath. I look back and see Arthur’s figure in the distance, just a black silhouette that I desperately want to leave far behind me.

I start to run again, but Paul stops me, his hands on my shoulders. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.” Paul looks warily to where I had pointed, resting his hands on his hip holster and narrowing his eyes as he surveys the woods.

I swallow the sticky breaths caught in my throat. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I finally manage after steadying my breathing.

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