Murder on Wheels Read Online Free Page A

girl?” Emma was a full-blooded golden retriever and Greg’s gift to me last year. He thought I needed protection since I had just moved into the house I’d inherited when my friend Miss Emily died. Turned out Greg was right, as Miss Emily’s distant relatives were none too happy to give up the place.
    Now Emma was my running companion and my best non-human friend. I patted her back and stood. “You want to go outside?”
    This got me a short bark before she ran to the back door. I let her out and glanced at my home answering machine. Yep, I’m old school. I have a landline and a real answering machine with cassette tapes inside. I’ve thought about looking for a replacement for when this one bites the dust, but I’m sure the guys at the big box store wouldn’t understand what I was talking about. The light was blinking, indicating a message.
    Only two people called my landline. Greg, when he couldn’t reach me any other way, and Frank Gleason, my contact with the California Historical Commission. I had the original South Cove Mission, or what was left of it, in my backyard. I’d been working on getting it certified for as long as I’d lived in the house. The one thing I could say about the process? They were certainly thorough. I got my new filtered-water pitcher out of the fridge and filled a travel bottle after I pressed the Play button.
    â€œMiss Gardner? This is Sally Walters. I’m Frank’s administrative assistant. This is just a courtesy call to let you know that the South Cove Mission Wall certification request is still with the state commission. They are running a little behind due to mandatory staff reduction days so it’s taking a little longer than we expected. I’ll call you in three months if the project is still pending on their docket.” The machine clicked off.
    I stared out the window toward the part of the backyard where the wall stood. “I guess you hid back there for years, so a few more months isn’t going to hurt anything.” Greg wanted to put up a hammock and build an outdoor brick oven where the wall sat, if the commission found it wasn’t a historic mission. I figured he’d be disappointed when the decision finally came through. I knew it was the mission.
    Emma barked at me from the open screen door. If I understood dog language at all, her bark said, Hurry up and get changed so we can run on the beach. I smell dead fish .
    Or, more likely, Open the door so I can chew up those couch cushions .
    I decided to believe the former and hurried upstairs to change into my running clothes. Ten minutes later, we were on the beach. The sun had broken through the morning clouds and the waves were light and playful. No one but Emma and I were there, so I unhooked her leash and let her run. I focused on the sound of my feet against the sand and the smell of the salt air.
    We rounded a bend and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple walking hand in hand toward me. And Emma running full bore to greet them, seawater flying off her body as she flew. “Emma, come here,” I called, hoping for once my dog would listen to my plea. She didn’t.
    When she reached the couple, the woman leaned down to greet her, and Emma sat, enjoying the attention. I sped up my pace to return her to the leash, hoping it wasn’t Mayor Baylor and Tina. I’d get a lecture for sure about loose animals on the beach and the city laws. As I approached, I realized it was Austin and Kacey. I clicked Emma’s leash onto her collar and stood. “Sorry about that, I thought we were alone.”
    â€œDogs aren’t supposed to be off their leashes on the beach,” Austin muttered.
    Kacey slapped his arm. “Stop being a rule book. Who died and left you king?” She turned toward me. “I know we live in a small town, but how crazy is it to run into you again today. Jane, isn’t it?”
    â€œJill. And this is