Case of the One-Eyed Tiger by Jeffrey M. Poole

Author:Jeffrey M. Poole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, animals, dogs, amateur sleuth, detective, cozy mystery
Publisher: Jeffrey M. Poole

SIX

“Is he gone?” I quietly asked as I saw Mr. Ginormous staring intently at the quiet street outside. I was trying to remain as quiet as possible, because, after all, the front door was wide open.

The big man grunted, “Yup. He’s on the other side of Main now. You ought to see him. He’s frantic. He doesn’t look happy that he lost you.”

I slowly stood and put Sherlock on the ground. The corgi sank down on his butt and looked up at the newcomer. Much to his credit, Sherlock didn’t bark once at him, not even when the big man came around the display and held out a hand to me in greeting.

Before I go any farther I should describe the guy to you. Remember, I said I was six feet tall. Let’s just say I couldn’t see over the racks. This guy could. He had to be at least 6’8” and close to 350 lbs. He also could have been a contestant on one of those Strongest Man in the World shows I enjoyed watching as a kid.

He had short white hair that was spiked straight up. He also had sideburns that practically covered his entire face. His biceps had to be bigger than my thighs and his hands… Holy shit. I’ve never seen hands that big. You could fit a dinner plate on those things and his fingers would still be visible.

The strangest thing about him, in my opinion, was his attire. With a build like that, looking as intimidating as he did, I had expected him to be wearing something you’d normally find on a biker. Like I said, I didn’t realize I was this judgmental, and I felt bad for it.

The store owner was wearing a dark green buttoned down short sleeve shirt and a pair of khakis. I could see some type of tribal tattoo peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his right arm, as well as a second tattoo on his forearm. Same arm.

I extended my hand and shook his.

“Burt Johnson,” the big man said, giving my hand a shake.

I tried not to shudder as I felt most of my fingers fuse together.

“Zack Anderson.”

“Ah. So you’re the guy.”

“I’m the guy what?” I asked.

“You’re the guy the cops think killed Zora’s assistant.”

“I didn’t do it,” I insisted.

“That also explains why the Wilson kid has been following you.”

“The Wilson kid?” I repeated with a frown. “How do you know him?”

“He’s a cop.”

Well, duh. Why else would someone be following me?

“He didn’t look like a cop.”

Burt gave me a look that suggested he believed I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

“They wouldn’t be able to discreetly follow someone dressed in their street blues, would they?”

I shrugged. He had me there.

“True.”

“How long was he on your tail?” Burt asked.

“I really don’t know. I just noticed him about five minutes ago.”

Burt finally noticed Sherlock.

“That’s a good lookin’ dog you got there. Hold on a sec. I think I have something for him. Or is it a her?”

“You had it right the first time.

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