PBM02 - Groomed For Murder by Knox Annie

Author:Knox, Annie [Knox, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cThriller, epub-for-travel
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

Twelve

When Dolly and I arrived back at Trendy Tails, Packer, Jinx, and Daisy May were lined up staring at the front door just like they knew we would be walking through any minute. Rena stood next to them, holding her ferret, Val, up like a trophy.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” she said.

“Is it something bigger than Dolly here accusing Hal Olson of murder?”

Rena grinned. “You didn’t!”

Aunt Dolly drew herself up and looked down her nose. “I absolutely did. As it happens, he is not connected to the mob”—Rena’s smile slipped—“and he purports to have an alibi for the night of the murder.”

“So he didn’t do it?” Rena asked.

“At the moment, the signs point to no, but we have a few details to follow up on.”

“What’s your big news?” I asked Rena as I fetched treats for Packer, Jinx, and Daisy May.

“Well, it’s a long story.”

“Does it have to be?”

Rena stuck her tongue out at me. “Yes. It started just after you two left. Taffy Nielson stopped by and said she’d lost a gold necklace that had belonged to her mother and that it might have ended up here.”

“Here?” Dolly asked as she made her way to a chair. As perky as she was, Dolly wasn’t a spring chicken anymore.

Rena shrugged and draped Val around her neck. “Who knows? Taffy’s always been a bit daffy. Oh! Daffy Taffy. We should totally start calling her that.”

I rolled my eyes. “We should totally not call her that. She’s our friend, and I would like to keep it that way.”

“Well, whatever, she was looking for her necklace, and so I went to our ‘lost and found.’” She used air quotes as she said it. Our unofficial lost and found is a cranny between Jinx’s armoire and the wall where Val the ferret hides all her ill-gotten loot.

“And?” I started boxing up a few items that I needed to get to Prissy’s Pretty Pets so Pris could work her magic on our four-legged bride, Pearl.

“Turns out she was right. The necklace was there . . . though how that happened and why she thought to ask us is completely beyond me. Anyway, the big news is what else Val appears to have stolen.”

She paused dramatically. “I’ll bite,” Dolly said. “What else did you find?”

“One of Daniel’s pocket journals.” She squeed and did a little jig of pure excitement, sending Val hurtling down her shirt and into her sleeve, where it was safe.

Dolly and I gasped in unison. “Really?” I breathed.

“I kid you not.”

“Well, let’s have a look,” Dolly said.

We gathered around the folk art table, and Rena produced the journal: a trendy little leather-bound book, not much bigger than an index card, held closed by an orange elastic. As though it were a holy book—or a vial of the plague—Rena slid the elastic off and opened the journal.

“I can’t believe you waited for us,” I said.

“I thought it would be more fun if we read it together.”

It was so small, we had to take turns thumbing through the journal.

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