Murder, She Barked

Anyone who lived on this end of the street could have parked and waited for Sven without being noticed. I rubbed my forehead. Who would do such a thing? Certainly not Rose! Never!

I barely knew Philip, but it seemed like someone that tidy would have chosen a different method if he intended to murder someone. Hitting a person with a car was bound to be a messy proposition.

Besides, wouldn’t it make sense to murder someone as far away from your own home as possible? More likely it had been someone from the other side of town. Or an outsider.

Ellie’s house, up the street, was hardly visible because of the angle. Old-fashioned streetlights added to Wagtail’s charm, but in the thick fog, I doubted that they had cast a broad beam. Whoever sat here, exactly where I was now, had expected Sven and gunned the car at him when he stepped into the street. Even easier to do in a hybrid SUV with almost no engine noise. In the dark, with the lights off, he wouldn’t have seen it advance on him.

Oma had already deduced that the killer had called the inn about Dolce running loose. He knew that would bring Sven to the street.

Or would it? Dolce wasn’t Sven’s dog. She belonged to Oma and Ellie. Shivers shuttled down my arms. Wouldn’t that phone call have been directed to Oma, as Dolce’s co-owner? Or had the person asked for Sven?

I had to talk to Oma right away and find out more about the phone call. My heart pounded at the thought that she might have been the intended victim.

I rubbed my face with both hands. Maybe I was wrong. I hoped my reasoning missed the mark. For all I knew, Sven might have made a pass at the wrong woman, and an irate boyfriend with a snootful had done him in.

But that didn’t prevent me from heading back to the inn as fast as the golf cart would take me. I pulled into the parking spot and ran into the reception area.

Zelda’s eyes widened when she saw me. “She’s here.”

The dog? Had she found her way back to the inn? “Where?”

“They’re all having breakfast.”

“Thanks.”

“Holly? Don’t hit her. Keep your cool.”

“Hit her? I would never do that.”

“Really? I’d be awfully tempted.”

I ran up the stairs with Zelda at my heels.

But when I reached the dining area, I stopped cold.

Twenty

Ben and Kim sat at a table with Oma. What were they doing here? The text. He’d come to propose in person! But why did he bring Kim?

Ben motioned me over to the table.

I scanned the floor. No sign of the dog. Turning to Zelda, I asked, “Where’s the dog? You said she was here.”

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I meant,” she lowered her tone, “her.”

Kim. She’d meant Kim.

Ben rose to greet me. “You look like you’ve been crawling through the woods.” He grazed my cheek with a kiss, reached up, and tugged a twig out of my hair.

I had to admit that Kim couldn’t have looked more beautiful. Beaming, you might say. Had I been too quick to trust Ben with her?

I said good morning to everyone, painfully aware of my appearance. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll run upstairs and wash up.”

“Is that blood on your face?” asked Kim.

I’d forgotten about the blood on my hands. I must have touched my face. “Probably.”

Zelda fell in step with me as I hurried toward the main staircase. “I’m so sorry. But there’s someone better out there for you. I’m sure of it.”

I paused. “What are you talking about?”

Her eyes opened wide. “Oh, honey, they’ve been . . . together.”

It wasn’t as though the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Nevertheless, I wasn’t sure I was ready to concede that anything had happened between them. “You read people’s minds, too?”

She fidgeted with a button on her blouse. “Not usually. But I’m sensitive enough to pick up on some things.”

She seemed so sad that I blurted, “They used to date.”

“Oh! I’m not usually that far off. Still, I’d watch out for her.”

I trudged up the stairs. Zelda had to be wrong. He would never have texted a proposal, awful as that was, if he had gotten involved with Kim again. When I reached my suite, the door stood open, a cleaning cart parked outside the doorway. I stepped around it, and a petite woman with a jet-black ponytail and intelligent dark eyes jerked upright from dusting the coffee table.

She held up a finger over her lips in a sign to be quiet and pointed toward the terrace.

I tiptoed over. Had she brought her baby to work?

And there, on a chaise longue, upside down, all four feet in the air, twitching as though she was running, was my dog. I didn’t care if I woke her. Laughing, I swept her up in my arms.

“Don’t ever do that again! Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

She licked the tip of my nose and proceeded to wash my chin. When I lowered her to the ground, she stood on her hind legs and placed her paws on my thighs. I bent over, and she buried her head into me, her tail wagging like crazy.

I pulled the inn collar out of my pocket and fastened it onto her. “No one takes this off except for me. Okay?”

The cleaning woman had left when we went inside.