Murder, She Barked

When I reached the third floor landing, I found it peculiar that once again, Trixie had turned the wrong way. She snuffled at the base of the door to the storage area and pawed at it.

Oh no! It finally dawned on me why she was showing so much interest. The rat must have siblings. Ugh.

I couldn’t do anything about it at the late hour without waking half the guests. My stomach turned at the thought, but we would have to relocate the rat family the next day. Oma must have traps somewhere.

Hoping none of them would make an appearance that night, I unlocked the door to my quarters and discovered Twinkletoes inside, watching TV in the sitting room. At my very quiet urging, Trixie gave the storage room door one last wistful glance and finally joined me.

I spread paper towels over the kitchen counter. The bag Trixie had carried turned out to be a sock. When I unknotted it and poured out the contents, two gold necklaces and a gold coin tumbled out.

“Did you dig this up in Jerry’s yard?” I asked.

Trixie ignored me and watched TV with Twinkletoes.

The day Jerry died, he’d shown us something similar. Had that been a ruse? Could Jerry have been involved in the thefts at Snowball Mountain? But why would this have been buried in his flower bed?

I stashed the sock and the contents inside an empty cachepot for the night.

I turned off the TV, and the three of us went to bed.

• • •

Morning came too early for those who had been out sleuthing in the night. Twinkletoes woke me. She sat behind my head and tapped my forehead with her paw.

I didn’t need Zelda to translate. Hello? Is anyone in there?

I dragged myself to the kitchen. In the future, I had to remember to leave her a nighttime snack so she wouldn’t be so eager to wake me in the morning. Twinkletoes waited patiently while I spooned tuna mousse into her bowl.

Trixie still lounged in bed, where I wanted to be. A shower went a long way in waking me. Unfortunately, I remembered the rat issue. I pulled on the jeans I’d worn the night before in anticipation of going into the musty storage room. The deep-pink top brightened up the informal jeans. If I stayed much longer, I’d be tempted to buy some warmer clothes.

I called Dave and left a somewhat cryptic message about finding something of interest. How was I going to explain that I had been sneaking around Jerry’s yard? Nevertheless, I had to turn it in. I wrapped the sock in paper towels and jammed it in my pocket.

The nightmare of being unemployed weighed heavily on me. I hadn’t done a thing in the last few days to find a new job. I would have to start that ball rolling soon. Otherwise, I’d find myself in a big bind before I knew it.

“Come on, Trixie,” I called, heading for the door. “Twinkletoes!”

Trixie came running. We waited for Twinkletoes. I called her name again and again. Where had that silly girl gone? I ran a quick check through the rooms. No sign of Twinkletoes. She must have curled up somewhere to sleep after her breakfast. I would check back before the great rat eradication.

Trixie zoomed into the hallway and straight to the door of the storage room. Ugh. Breakfast first. No one should ever tackle a rat problem on an empty stomach.

Trixie had already figured out our routine. She beat me to the dining area. By the time I arrived, she was going from table to table begging for food. No! No, no, no! Why had I left the leash upstairs?

I snagged my little cutie and carried her into Oma’s private kitchen, hoping I might find a string or some twine to use as a temporary leash.

Instead, I found Twinkletoes, comfortably curled up in one of the cushy chairs by the fireplace.

“How did you do that?” She hadn’t slipped by me when I opened the door to my room.

Twinkletoes didn’t seem to care. She lifted her head and regarded us with disinterest. She yawned, displaying pink gums, itty bitty white teeth, and a rosy tongue, then curled up tight for a nap.

Someone else must have had leash issues, because I found a little stash of Sugar Maple leashes in a closet. I snapped one onto Trixie’s collar and returned to the dining area, keeping the leash very short so she would be forced to walk close to me and wouldn’t be able to lunge at the breakfasts of other dogs.

We joined Oma, who ate oatmeal for breakfast. “The temperature is dropping,” she said. “See the mist rising from the water? Won’t be long until the trees turn glorious colors.”

I pulled the wrapped sock out of my pocket. “Remember the gold coins that Jerry showed us? Trixie found this in his yard last night.”

Oma studied the necklaces and the coin. Her forehead furrowed, she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “He must have been involved with the thieves in Snowball.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Or someone put it there to make it appear that way.”

Dave rushed in. He perched on the edge of a chair. “I don’t have a lot of time. What’s up?”

I shoved the sock and contents his way.