“Sheba!” Oh, that dog.
I watched in dismay as the mastiff puppy I’d adopted ran across the park and leaped into the pond splashing nearby hikers who shrieked and jumped back. When I’d found her as a stray, I thought her full grown. The vet said six months old. How big would she get? And would she ever listen to my commands?
Taking off at a run, I stopped at the water’s edge. “Come back here, you crazy mutt.” Misbehaving or not, I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, which only served to encourage her. “Fine. I’m continuing the hike without you.” Clutching her leash, which I vowed never to remove again, I set off down the path, casting an eye over my shoulder.
Not to be left behind, Sheba bounded after me, spraying everyone close to her with water. Most people laughed, but a few scowled. One lady shrieked. Still, Sheba either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Confident now that she’d stay with me, I left her leash off her collar and increased my pace to put some distance between us and the others on the path.
Sheba bounded in and out of the woods sniffing everything until she disappeared into a thicket. From where I stood, I could see dirt fly. Shaking my head, I followed.
“Stop that. Bad girl.” I tugged her collar.
She yanked free and continued digging.
“Sheba.” Ugh. Oh. I froze and stared at a slim hand protruding from the hole Sheba had dug. The bright pink fingernail polish on the hand’s nails stark against the dark dirt.
The more my dog dug, the more of the body appeared. I clicked the leash to her collar and pulled her back, tying her to a tree away from the grave. The next thing I did was call Detective McIlroy.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Trinity Ashford.”
“I know. It’s been a few months, but I do know this number. By heart, unfortunately.”
“Oh, well then, I’m about to ruin your day. My dog just dug up a body at Waterfall Park. East end of the pond.”
“Repeat that?”
So, I did. “It’s a little off the beaten path. I doubt others will see, but you might want to hurry.”
“Stay there.” Click.
I should have brought a snack, but then who knew my dog would dig up a body? I sat cross-legged against the tree where I’d tied Sheba and fought to keep my gaze from landing on the body.
Not long ago, I’d discovered the father of my boyfriend dead in his bed. The discovery had wrenched at my heart. I’d loved that old man and looked to him as a father figure. Waterfall, Arkansas, had once been a quiet small town. At least until big business started arriving. Now, I’d found my second dead body, or at least my dog did, if I didn’t count the one showing up at the door of my boyfriend, Brad, that one time.
I mentally counted. Three? Yes, I’d found three dead bodies and almost became one myself.
Hikers passed on the trail on the other side of the brush, oblivious to what lay a few feet away. The body, at least what I could see of it, didn’t appear to have been there that long. Southern humidity would have caused decomposition to occur rather rapidly, right?
Hurry up, McIlroy. I shuddered. To top things off, clouds gathered overhead threatening rain. Not how I’d envisioned spending a Sunday afternoon, the only time I really had to myself, since running my own pet store and pet daycare took up most of the week.
A raindrop hit my nose, then another and another. The trees overhead provided little protection. I sighed and crossed my arms around my middle, jumping to my feet when I spotted McIlroy marching down the path.
“In here.” I waved.
He frowned and joined me. As I started to show him the partially unburied body, he shook his head. “I can see it.” He hunkered down next to the hand. “How do you find these? It’s not a talent most people would want.”
“My dog found her.”
“Hmmph. Last time it was Armstrong’s cat.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? It must be a newly acquired gift I have of adopting animals with a tendency to find bodies.”
He stepped away and called someone, presumably the police station. The detective seemed oblivious to the rain.
I, on the other hand, felt like a drowned rat. With a wet hand, I shoved my wet hair away from my face. “Can I go?”
“Not until I ask you some questions. You ought to know the routine by now.”
“It’s raining.” I crossed my arms.
“I’m aware of that fact.”
I groaned and stood under the thickest tree I could find. Poor Sheba whined and plopped down, resting her head on her paws. Poor thing looked as miserable as I felt.
McIlroy drilled me until I felt as if I repeated myself. I hated being interrogated. “I didn’t kill her, Detective. Sheba dug her up.” How many times did I have to say those words?
“All right. You’re free to go. If you remember anything, saw anyone—”
“The body is that fresh?”
He didn’t answer, but the tic in his jaw told me the body had been recently buried. What if I’d stumbled across the killer? I glanced at Sheba. Was she old enough to be protective if someone came after me?
I scanned the area, said goodbye to the detective, and untied Sheba. No walking back to my car for me; I ran.
At my apartment, I took a shower as hot as I could stand it, closing my eyes and envisioning the day’s events washing down the drain. After toweling off and getting dressed, I curled up on the sofa with the monstrous mastiff, the one who had started a whole new set of problems for me.
To be honest, I didn’t enjoy finding dead bodies, getting involved in solving murders, or almost becoming a victim myself. I drew my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. Maybe this time would be different. No one other than the detective even knew I’d been the one to discover the body. No one would think I knew a thing, which I didn’t. I had absolutely no reason to be nervous.
My cell phone rang, almost bouncing off the coffee table. I snatched it. “Hello?”
“You found a dead body?” My friend and pet groomer, Shar screeched, her voice alive with excitement. “Why do you have all the fun?”
“How did you find out?” I rolled my eyes.
“Mildred Snelling told Mrs. Nelson, who told Mrs. Murdoch, who told me.”
“How did Mildred find out?”
“Her son was jogging around the lake, saw the crime scene tape, asked one of the spectators, who said they overheard one of the police officers mention your name.”
I sighed. “Actually, Sheba dug it up. Do we know who the victim is?”
“I sure do. News travels fast around here. Oh, I hope the family has been notified. How horrible to hear this kind of news through the grapevine.”
“Shar, who?”
“Oh, right. Sarah Turner, the manager at the Waterfall Trailer Park.”
Why would anyone want to kill Sarah? The kind, middle-aged woman had run the trailer park since her husband’s death ten years prior. As far as I knew, everyone loved her. “How did she die?”
“Strangled. Tragic.”
A knock sounded on my door. “Someone’s here. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Keep me on the phone. What if it’s the person who killed Sarah?”
“Why in the world would they be after me?” I frowned but did hesitate before peeking through the peephole. “It’s Brad. Bye.” I hung up and opened the door. “Hey.”
A worried look graced his handsome face. “Are you all right?”
“I guess you heard.”
He nodded, guiding me to the sofa. “McIlroy called me. He wanted to make sure you made it home okay. He said you were a bit rattled when you left the scene.”
“I was. Especially when I found out how fresh the body was.” I plopped onto the sofa. “It brought home how close I’d come to stumbling across the act itself.”
“No, Sarah wasn’t killed there, just dumped.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know all this already?”
“I spoke with one of the new officers, David Rickson.” Brad grinned. “He has a loose tongue.”
“Must be the same one who started the grapevine.” I hugged a pillow to my chest, grateful all I saw of Sarah was her hand.
He scratched behind one of Sheba’s ears. “Good girl. Who knows how long that poor woman would have lain out there if not for you?”
The selfish part of me wished someone else’s dog had dug up Sarah. “How was your trip? I missed you.”
He leaned over and kissed me. “I missed you, too. Even three days away were too long. It was good. I got the backing to finish the theater.”
After Harold Jenkins, contractor and murderer of Brad’s father, had been arrested and sent to prison, work on the theater across the parking lot from my shop had stalled, costing Brad money. Folks around Waterfall were looking forward to not having to drive thirty minutes to the nearest theater.
“That’s wonderful.”
He stood. “Want me to make coffee?”
I nodded. While Brad smiled and made small talk, I could tell something bothered him. If he didn’t tell me on his own, I’d ask him to spill whatever it was before he left. “How’s Moses doing after you’ve been gone so long?”
“Needy.” Brad laughed. “The complex maid came in a couple of times a day to give him company, but I think he prefers me.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“Of the cat?”
“No, silly. The maid.” She’d seemed eager to watch Sheba a few months ago when Brad and I were busy finding his father’s killer. I’d lived in the penthouse guestroom a few months ago after someone broke into my apartment, thus bringing my pets with me.
“Of course not.” He pressed the button on the coffeemaker. “I’ve got the best girl in the state.”
My heart warmed. Never in a million years would I have thought that small-town girl, Trinity Ashford, would be the girlfriend of one of the country’s most eligible bachelors. It saddened me to realize it took the death of his father for us to meet.
The delicious aroma of brewing coffee filled my apartment drawing my cats, Sharkbait and Trashcan from their hiding places. I never could figure out why they rushed into the kitchen at the smell, unless they thought coffee meant feeding time, since I usually made a pot first thing in the morning before feeding them.
They immediately jumped on my lap and demanded food. “Silly things, it’s afternoon, not morning.”
“Here you go.” Brad handed me a cup of java made just the way I liked it with a dollop of French vanilla creamer.
“Thanks.” I speared him with a sharp gaze. “Now, mind telling me what has you so worried?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Brad—”
He exhaled heavily. “When McIlroy went to the office at Waterfall Trailers, he found every news article written about you after you helped bring down Jenkins scattered across Sarah’s desk. One of the articles was pinned to the desktop by a knife.”
- Publisher : Winged Publications
- Publication date : February 5, 2021
- Language : English
- Print length : 193 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1952661587
- ISBN-13 : 978-1952661587