Barking All the Way (The Ginny Reese Mysteries, #3.5) by M.K. Dean

Author:M.K. Dean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Redclaw Publishing
Published: 2023-12-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, I rolled out of bed, took a look at my schedule on my phone and thought about the best way to use a block of free time. I hadn’t ridden my mare in over a week, and she wasn’t the sort of horse you could leave in the pasture for weeks on end and hop on without issue. Both she and Remy needed a regular schedule of exercise. If I was being completely honest with myself, I did too. From now on, instead of lollygagging about the house in the mornings over coffee and scrolling through the news and social media, I would commit to getting some fresh air and some exercise in. If I used my free blocks of time more wisely, I could get more done.

Reminding myself of this under my breath as a new mantra, I pulled on thermal riding pants, and headed down to the barn to speed through my chores. My mare, Scotty, was excited by the cold air and the change in routine, and every moment on her seemed as though I were holding a lighted match in a room full of gunpowder kegs. Definitely needed more saddle time.

Determined to meet all my obligations in a timely manner, after a quick shower and breakfast, I headed off to my appointments for the day. Despite the temptation to sit around and chat after each visit, I pled the need to get to the next client and stayed on schedule for once.

Partway through the morning, I got a text from Mother:

Betty and I can’t get in. Why is the gate closed?

I dope-slapped my forehead and texted back:

Robberies around town made me think good idea.

I sent her the code. Of course, no sooner than I decided to use the gate then she shows up for the decorating. I’d forgotten all about her offer and had begun planning on my own. No doubt she was mortally offended by being locked out.

That, and the fact I finished the day’s appointments on time made me decide to run home for a bite to eat before going shopping again. Not only was my mother’s blue Nissan there, but so was Joe’s big red Ford pickup.

As Remy and I walked up to the house, Joe came around a corner carrying a ladder. His stride hitched for a moment, as though he might have tried to turn around, but instead he pasted a big smile on his face and set the ladder down against the porch. The brisk wind might have accounted for the touch of red along his cheekbones, or it could have been something else.

“Hey.” He rubbed the back of his neck the way he did when he was uncomfortable and then bent down to greet Remy as we joined him. “I was here to put up the security cameras, and Betty came out and told me to hang the lights along the front of your house.”

Betty, as an extension of my mother, was a mouthpiece for She Who Must Be Obeyed.

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