Perilous Pottery (Cozy Corgi Mysteries Book 11) by Mildred Abbott

Author:Mildred Abbott [Abbott, Mildred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wings of Ink Publications, LLC
Published: 2019-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

I couldn’t help but think of Violet and Joan’s mansion as I pulled up to Ms. Melvin’s house. The two couldn’t be more different. The little cabin would’ve been a charming gem of a home fifty years ago. It was in the typical mountainy Estes Park style—flat dark brown logs with white chinking between, pine-green shutters on the windows, and green wooden shingles on the roof. Complete with a river rock chimney billowing out smoke. However, some of the dark brown logs were missing, the chinking was now a spongy-looking gray, dark mold growing over it here and there, and the wood of the shutters and shingles only held the memory of being green and looked like they’d served as insect feasts for the past several years.

As we made our way up onto her porch, I worried I was heavy enough that I’d break through. Beside me, Watson sniffed and gave a whimper as the boards groaned in protest. He couldn’t smell anything, but from the rot and decay, I figured he was picking up all sorts of unpleasant scents.

A ghost of a voice answered my knock, but it took well over a minute before I heard the click of a lock and the door wedged open. A weary-looking brown eye peered out at me.

“Hi there.” I infused as much gentle pleasantness in my voice as I could. “I hate to bother you.”

“Sorry. I’m not buying anything.” She started to shut the door.

On instinct, I shot my hand out, holding it in place. After a second of embarrassment I yanked my hand away. “Sorry about that. I’m not selling anything. My name is Winifred Page, and this is—”

“Watson!” Her voice lightened somehow, and the door opened the rest of the way, revealing a small, shriveled woman. Susan had been right. She wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly or a moth. “Well, I’ve heard all about you two. Who hasn’t?” Some of the tiredness left her voice. With one hand, she supported her weight on the door handle, and her other hand stretched down toward Watson.

Without hesitation, he tilted his head up, pressing his nose against the palm of her hand and leaving it there.

She sighed happily. “Sweet lamb.”

Strangely, I felt like I was intruding on a moment and stayed silent.

A soft, sad smile played on her wrinkled lips. When she spoke, she addressed Watson, not me. “I had a corgi once. Her name was Hera. Fattest, most loveable thing you ever saw. A little grumpy, though.”

If I hadn’t already known the second I’d seen her, at that moment, I was certain I was wasting my time. Maud Melvin didn’t kill anyone.

Finally straightening, she looked up at me. “You’re here because of Violet?”

I wanted to lie, but then couldn’t think of a good excuse. “I am.”

“Such a sad thing. She was young, had a lot of life left.”

I nearly did a double take. Violet hadn’t been ancient, but as Angus had said only an hour or so before, she wasn’t a spring chicken.

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