Swan with the Wind (Bought-the-Farm Mystery Book 9) by Ellen Riggs

Author:Ellen Riggs [Riggs, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781989303740
Publisher: Ellen Riggs, Author
Published: 2021-06-28T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

A flock of Canada geese surrounded the truck. In the passenger seat, Keats was so excited he stood on his hind legs and hopped in a full circle. I couldn’t remember seeing his circus dog act since the day I rescued him. He’d performed many other stunts, but the tricks he learned before my time were mostly beneath him now.

Unless there was a flock of geese beneath him. Then all bets were off.

“Keats, may I have a word? I know how much you enjoy herding our feathered friends, but it won’t fly here.”

He didn’t even roll his eyes at the pun. His sheepdog heart was tripping over itself and both paws tried to work the latch. It was a relief that he hadn’t already figured out how to come and go as he liked. Maybe he had and was just too worked up to execute.

Finally he whined in frustration and I crossed my arms. “Buddy, we go nowhere till we’ve had this talk.”

He hopped back around and stayed up, front paws hanging. I tried to hold back a grin and failed.

“Do not try to charm me, Keats. I’m being serious. This is a no-herd zone. There will be injured and sick birds that need to be treated with kid gloves. I won’t have us kicked out before we get the information we need to help Zeus. So… do I have your agreement? Or would you prefer to wait in the truck?”

The truck wasn’t really an option, however. It was a warm day and I couldn’t leave him for more than a few minutes, even in the shade.

He gave a resigned whimper. It would take a lot of willpower, but he’d restrain himself.

“Just close your eyes and think about homicide,” I said. “There are more important things at stake today than geese. But if you’re very good I may get you some geese to herd at home. For your new pond.”

His lip lifted in a rare sneer at the word pond.

“Don’t show me those teeth, or you’ll find yourself in a lifejacket,” I said, getting out of the truck. “There’s one in the back.”

I made broad sweeping gestures to shoo the geese before releasing the dog. The birds took one look at him and waddled off.

“One problem down, one to go,” I said, as we walked to the weather-beaten wood hut that looked like an office.

A white-haired man in coveralls came out at the first knock. I introduced myself and Keats, who sat politely at my side with his ears not only up but forward. He aimed to please, and after a long moment of evaluating the dog, the man smiled.

“Are you going to be able to hold yourself back?” he asked Keats, in a charming English accent. “This place is feathery temptation for any dog.”

Before I could answer, Keats mumbled his own assurances, and the man laughed. “No one else would believe you, but I will.”

Keats raised one white paw and offered to shake. I hadn’t seen him do that in a long time, either.

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