With Her Majesty's Secret Corgis (A Moose McGillicutty Mystery Book 3) by Rene Fomby

Author:Rene Fomby [Fomby, Rene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Ness Monster Press
Published: 2020-02-06T16:00:00+00:00

Barkingham Palace

W

hen we finally arrive at the parade grounds in front of Barkingham Palace, the Queen’s Guards are all lined up in the middle of the field. We’ve been running the entire time, and I’m completely out of breath again, but I know I need to buck up now and get this done. Ginger is counting on me, after all, and maybe all of England as well. Or at least all of the English pets.

We don’t have time to stop and check the left ankles of all of the guards, and I’m not exactly sure how we would manage to pull that off even if we did, so our current go-to plan is for me to race up and down the lines of guards, sniffing furiously at them in the rare chance I’ll find our guy.

And that means even more running, no mean feat for a short-legged Corgi like me. Or is that no mean feet, I can’t help but ask myself with a chuckle. Oh, for gosh sakes, Moose must be starting to rub off on me. What a truly frightening thought!

Anyway, there’s literally no time to spare, so I’m off to work without even thinking about the possible consequences. And I am Ginger, after all, at least as far as anyone out there knows at this very moment, so I figure they’ll cut me some slack before anyone thinks to step forward and pull me off the parade grounds.

There’s a fine balance between speed and accuracy, and a dog’s nose is really no different in the end. Especially when you’ve been running at top speed and your breath is huffing and puffing out of your chest like an old steam locomotive. And as I race across the gap between the palace and the guards, kicking my two hind legs together in sync like a rabbit, I half expect one of the guards to react, maybe lean down and grab me by the collar or something. But no, these humans have been exceedingly well trained to carry out their planned maneuvers regardless of what random distractions might possibly pop up in the meantime. Like a tourist’s camera. Or a red-headed Corgi galloping toward them at full tilt.

And that works perfectly in my favor. As I run down the first line of guards, sniffing each and every one of them as I go past, I can see their eyes following me the entire way, but otherwise not a single one of them so much as twitches a muscle. I make the turn and take on the second line of guardsmen with the same result, and I’m just making my turn for the third and last line when suddenly it hits me. That smell. That unmistakable odor. It’s faint, but still—

I hit my brakes at full stride and screech to a halt, pulling up so fast I almost stumble over my front paws. I spin in place, sniffing like my life depends upon it, and there it is again. No question this time.

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