November Hunt by Jess Lourey

Author:Jess Lourey [Lourey, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Murder, Fiction, Mystery, soft-boiled, humor, regional, murder by month, soft boiled, month, Suspense, hunting, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780738731360
Publisher: Midnight Ink
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Luna and I trudged a quarter mile through the woods to the sledding hill and started our frigid morning with some downhill action on a green plastic toboggan. The first few runs were sketchy as we forged a trail and she debated between riding with me and running alongside and barking excitedly at me. She finally decided both had their selling points and alternated between them. The daybreak was gorgeous, a frosty three degrees above zero with the rising sun sparkling tangerine and violet off millions of snow crystals. The air smelled pure, cleaning out my lungs in great visible puffs. Only my eyes were naked to the glacial licks of air, and my winter gear kept the rest of me warm. Luna and I traveled up and down the hill a dozen times before she plopped down at the top and began chewing at the ice clumps dangling off her paws.

“You ready to go back?”

She wagged her tail in the affirmative. Back at the house, Tiger Pop allowed me to feed her catnip and scratch her ears and the bony spot right in front of her tail. I toasted and buttered two slices of multigrain bread, swallowed three of Kennie’s vitamins, watered my plants, and drove to work. The bog burps started on the drive, but I now had them scheduled. The first one erupted 20 minutes after taking the vitamins and lasted one to two hours, during which time I was toxic, but I swear I could actually feel my hair growing. Then, magically the burps would disappear. Right on schedule, by the time I closed up early to drive to the hunt club, I smelled like a rose. The plan was to interview Mitchell and return before 1:00.

I’d passed the Deer Valley Hunt sign a hundred times on my way to Alexandria but never had a reason to pull in. Now that I did, I was impressed by the enormous log structure that served as the main lodge. It looked straight out of a photograph, constructed of gorgeous buttery logs and as big as a hotel. Several outbuildings looked well used, judging by the tracks in and out of them. A wide-open garage featured an army of four-wheelers and snowmobiles. I pulled into the nonhandicapped spot closest to the entrance, the one marked, “Whitetail,” and made my way indoors.

The main lobby featured a crackling, three-story fieldstone fireplace that gave the whole space the warm scent of pine and community. The far wall was made up almost entirely of glass and overlooked sweeping hills and into a hardwood forest. I sauntered to the front desk and helped myself to a perfect red apple tempting me from a beautifully arranged bowl of fruit. I stuffed it in my shoulder bag and dinged the bell. I was rewarded almost immediately when Mitchell popped out. “Right on time. That’s what I like.”

“This place is beautiful,” I said. I wasn’t a fan of all the stuffed animal carcasses decorating the walls, but

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