A Shot in the Bark (A Dog Park Mystery) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Carol Ann Newsome
else. An accident, suicide, a health condition, anything but murder. You can't be convicted for a crime if no one knows one occurred.
Rule Number Four: Plan, plan, plan. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. You have to review and practice your plan enough to find all the holes, and there are always holes. It has to be second nature because the mind often blanks when stressed. You've got to be programmed in case fear strikes. When your mind blanks, you've got to go on auto-pilot.
Rule Number Five: Never repeat yourself. Don't kill two husbands, two bosses, or two landlords. Never kill two people the same way. Repeating creates patterns and patterns create suspicion. Avoid connections between victims because connections will eventually form a net with you in it.
Rule Number Six: If you can't have an alibi, don't have a motive, at least not an obvious one. Cops know nobody has an alibi when they are at home in bed at night, but they don't care unless they think you had a reason to kill your victim. So if you think someone might become a target, don't engage in conflict with them.
Rule Number Seven: Keep still. Once you set everything in motion, do nothing that was not part of the original plan. People who scramble to protect themselves only wind up drawing attention to the thing they want to hide.
Rule Number Eight: Avoid casting suspicion on anyone else if you can help it. It's bad karma. Unless the person is really, truly, odious.
Rule Number Nine: No Souvenirs. Souvenirs are evidence. You never know when evidence will surface. Keep your memories and nothing else.
Chapter 3
Tuesday, May 10
Peter rang the bell for Lia's half of a two-family at 10:00 a.m. as planned. Lia unlatched the screen door only to have it shoved open to the sound of excited whimpering. Paws landed on her thighs.
"Viola!" She knelt down for frantic puppy kisses. "Aw, sweetie, I missed you." She looked up at Peter. "Thanks for bringing her."
"Do you want me to hang onto her or should I unclip her?"
"Let her go, sure." By this time, Honey and Chewy were sniffing Viola and barking. The trio ran off to the back of the house for a canine reunion.
"Can I get you anything? I've got green tea, herbal, filtered water, or I could juice up some carrots and celery for you."
"No Pepsi? Isn't it illegal to be that healthy?"
"Cherry Coke is a deep dark secret in my life, Detective, but I only get one a month."
"That's even worse, having a disciplined vice."
"Better cuff me then. A month of jail food should rehabilitate me. Would tap water make you feel better? Or I could toss some high-fructose corn syrup into the tea for you."
"Sweet tea would be nice if you have any made up, otherwise, any kind of water it is."
Lia brought out two glasses of green tea and a squeeze bottle. "I was kidding about the corn syrup. I make simple syrup out of dehydrated cane juice because granulated sugar won't dissolve in cold liquid. This way you can make it how you like."
Peter shook his head. "I've never met anyone who actually went to this much trouble with their diet."
"I'm an artist, Detective. Artists can't afford health insurance. The cheapest and most reliable way to take care of yourself is with food. Call me up next time you can't sleep and I'll bore you right into a coma about it.
"Have a seat." Lia gestured to a mission style sofa with floral tapestry upholstery. A colorful hodgepodge of pillows cushioned the wood arms. She settled into a straight-backed oak chair rescued from a defunct elementary school. The dogs returned from their confab. Honey lay at Lia's feet and Viola jumped up on the sofa next to Peter. Chewy gave the detective a considering look.
"Careful," Lia said. "If Chewy wants petting, he'll head-bump your hand, usually the one that already has something in it. It's been known to cause accidents."
"Thanks for the warning. You seem to be doing much better than you were two days ago."
"Painting helps. It's my cure-all."
Peter nodded
Rule Number Four: Plan, plan, plan. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. You have to review and practice your plan enough to find all the holes, and there are always holes. It has to be second nature because the mind often blanks when stressed. You've got to be programmed in case fear strikes. When your mind blanks, you've got to go on auto-pilot.
Rule Number Five: Never repeat yourself. Don't kill two husbands, two bosses, or two landlords. Never kill two people the same way. Repeating creates patterns and patterns create suspicion. Avoid connections between victims because connections will eventually form a net with you in it.
Rule Number Six: If you can't have an alibi, don't have a motive, at least not an obvious one. Cops know nobody has an alibi when they are at home in bed at night, but they don't care unless they think you had a reason to kill your victim. So if you think someone might become a target, don't engage in conflict with them.
Rule Number Seven: Keep still. Once you set everything in motion, do nothing that was not part of the original plan. People who scramble to protect themselves only wind up drawing attention to the thing they want to hide.
Rule Number Eight: Avoid casting suspicion on anyone else if you can help it. It's bad karma. Unless the person is really, truly, odious.
Rule Number Nine: No Souvenirs. Souvenirs are evidence. You never know when evidence will surface. Keep your memories and nothing else.
Chapter 3
Tuesday, May 10
Peter rang the bell for Lia's half of a two-family at 10:00 a.m. as planned. Lia unlatched the screen door only to have it shoved open to the sound of excited whimpering. Paws landed on her thighs.
"Viola!" She knelt down for frantic puppy kisses. "Aw, sweetie, I missed you." She looked up at Peter. "Thanks for bringing her."
"Do you want me to hang onto her or should I unclip her?"
"Let her go, sure." By this time, Honey and Chewy were sniffing Viola and barking. The trio ran off to the back of the house for a canine reunion.
"Can I get you anything? I've got green tea, herbal, filtered water, or I could juice up some carrots and celery for you."
"No Pepsi? Isn't it illegal to be that healthy?"
"Cherry Coke is a deep dark secret in my life, Detective, but I only get one a month."
"That's even worse, having a disciplined vice."
"Better cuff me then. A month of jail food should rehabilitate me. Would tap water make you feel better? Or I could toss some high-fructose corn syrup into the tea for you."
"Sweet tea would be nice if you have any made up, otherwise, any kind of water it is."
Lia brought out two glasses of green tea and a squeeze bottle. "I was kidding about the corn syrup. I make simple syrup out of dehydrated cane juice because granulated sugar won't dissolve in cold liquid. This way you can make it how you like."
Peter shook his head. "I've never met anyone who actually went to this much trouble with their diet."
"I'm an artist, Detective. Artists can't afford health insurance. The cheapest and most reliable way to take care of yourself is with food. Call me up next time you can't sleep and I'll bore you right into a coma about it.
"Have a seat." Lia gestured to a mission style sofa with floral tapestry upholstery. A colorful hodgepodge of pillows cushioned the wood arms. She settled into a straight-backed oak chair rescued from a defunct elementary school. The dogs returned from their confab. Honey lay at Lia's feet and Viola jumped up on the sofa next to Peter. Chewy gave the detective a considering look.
"Careful," Lia said. "If Chewy wants petting, he'll head-bump your hand, usually the one that already has something in it. It's been known to cause accidents."
"Thanks for the warning. You seem to be doing much better than you were two days ago."
"Painting helps. It's my cure-all."
Peter nodded
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