The Great Mistake Mysteries 3-Book Bundle by Sylvia McNicoll

Author:Sylvia McNicoll
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn Press
Published: 2018-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

DAY THREE, MISTAKE THREE

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to reply to Star.” Renée’s eyebrows knit as she keys in her message and reads it aloud: “Thanks for sending Animal Control. The officers liked how well Ping behaved. We showed them his cut tongue. And … send!”

“But that’s not true! Ping wasn’t even here,” I say.

With one fist digging in her hip, she squints at me as she hands back my phone.

“And you never put a poop bag in a tree, either,” she answers.

“True. But your text may just make Star madder.”

Renée shrugs. “Or maybe it will show her we’re not so easily scared off.”

We begin walking again until my cell buzzes. Our footsteps stutter to a stop as I read out loud: “I’ve kept this picture to show Animal Control. Just in case.”

I show Renée the gross selfie that comes with the text. It shows a large blister around Star’s nose piercing.

“Oh pu-lease. A keloid. She gets those every other week. How can she prove it’s the dog? There are no teeth marks.”

Renée does not convince me. “All she has to do is press charges. I don’t think she has to prove Ping guilty beyond reasonable doubt.”

We arrive at the Bennetts’ now and the dogs leap up in front of the window. Sproingy, sproingy. Ping’s joy especially makes me grind my teeth over Star. He’s such a funny dog. Makes everyone laugh except her.

“You’re waving at them, you know,” Renée says.

“So are you,” I answer and grin. I unlock the door and Ping bounces from his back legs: up, down, up, down.

Renée scoops him into her arms and cuddles him. Little dogs hate that, which makes it a great way to calm Ping down.

Pong leans his body against mine, owning me with his big brown eyes. We leash them up quickly and I herd Pong through the door.

At the sidewalk, Renée sets Ping down. “There’s an important piece of information that came of that Animal Control visit.” Ping drags her forward.

“Really? What?”

Pong raises his leg against a lamppost.

“You can’t tell from a picture whether a person is taking something or putting it back.”

Ping salutes the post, too.

“I was taking the bag away.” I reach for a dog bag in my pocket as Pong squats.

“Yes. I know that. But what if the opposite were true for Mr. Rupert’s mailbox. What if Attila was returning the mailbox? Stupid Star probably stole it. Which is why he isn’t saying anything to the cops. He’s protecting her.”

I bend down to scoop Pong’s poop now. “Why would she want to steal the mailbox someone’s dead wife made?”

“She’s a witch, okay?”

Renée has a point. “‘I’ll get you and your little dog, too,’” I repeat. “You know I dreamt about her.” I stand up with the poop bag in my hand and twist a knot at the top. Star reported me for not disposing of my bags properly. Plus, after patting and allowing an innocent animal to lick her face, she threatens to report his only mistake, which was to love her too much.

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