Mutts & Murder: A Dog Town USA Cozy Mystery Read Online Free Page A
Author: Meg Muldoon
at a small paper.
I bit my lower lip, thinking of what she would have said about me being back here in this house. Working at the paper I interned for ten years earlier at the age of 18.
She always made it clear that she expected me to be the next Katie Couric.
Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t lived to see that dream of hers die. But that thought sure didn’t make me feel better.
And it sure didn’t make me miss her any less.
A stiff wind rustled the leaves of the trees around the house and caused the curtains to flutter around me. They reminded me of tethered ghosts.
I sighed again.
Sometimes I thought this house was haunted.
Sometimes, I thought it wasn’t just this house.
Chapter 5
I woke up to Buddy stepping on my legs, his petite little paws carrying what felt like 1,000 pounds per square centimeter of pressure.
“Ow!”
He looked at me with placid, unsympathetic green eyes, showing zero remorse for awakening me so rudely.
But when I looked at the clock, I understood why.
“ Not again !” I shouted, springing out of bed like Dracula from a coffin at sundown.
Buddy meowed loudly at me, wanting to make sure that I hadn’t forgotten about him in my haste.
The orange cat had probably been trying to wake me up for a long time now. But his desire for a second helping of cat food this morning was the least of my worries.
I was already half an hour late to work, and I was still in my PJs.
I rushed around the room, finding a jean skirt and a half-wrinkled top that I didn’t have time to iron. I threw my hair up in a ponytail and did a five-minute makeup job. I really could have used a shower, but there just wasn’t any time.
Today of all days , I thought, scolding myself.
I put in a pair of stud earrings, then slipped into the same heels I’d worn the day before. Buddy watched me anxiously as I collected my phone and notepads and various other materials I would need for the day ahead.
I hated being late.
When I had gotten everything I needed, I left the bedroom, rushing downstairs. Little paws followed closely behind me.
I went for the door, grabbing my purse and stuffing everything into it hastily. Then I grabbed the keys off the foyer counter and reached for the front door knob.
“Meoooowwww!!!”
I turned around and let out a sigh, giving the big cat a hard look.
“I know that Lou already fed you before she left this morning,” I said, looking into his sad little face. “Don’t try and pretend you didn’t have a nice turkey giblet feast this morning.”
That sorrow-filled, begging expression remained.
After a moment, I let out another sigh.
The cat had my number and he damn well knew it.
“Fine,” I said, putting my purse on the counter.
He seemed to understand me and turned his back, trotting toward the kitchen.
If I had one-tenth the manipulation capability that Buddy the orange cat possessed, I would have had my name etched on an office door at The New York Times by now.
Chapter 6
My hand dropped suddenly from the car door handle as I stared at the wreckage.
“ Son of a… ”
In the rush of being late, I had almost missed the disrupted leafage and torn-up flower petals strewn across the front yard.
I felt my hands ball up into fists at my side. I tossed my purse down on the ground and stomped over to the ripped-up rose bushes.
The Ripper of Labrador Lane had struck again.
When dog walkers let their pets poop on the lawn, it didn’t bother me that much. I just simply cleaned it up without complaint. When they let their dogs pee and dig their claws into the manicured grasses, I didn’t complain then either.
In fact, as far as I was concerned, the entire Fido force of Dog Mountain was welcome to the usage of my front lawn.
Just so long as they kept their paws, claws, and snouts out of the rose garden.
I surveyed the damage, feeling helpless and mad as hell all at the same time. A few of the plants’ branches had broken
I bit my lower lip, thinking of what she would have said about me being back here in this house. Working at the paper I interned for ten years earlier at the age of 18.
She always made it clear that she expected me to be the next Katie Couric.
Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t lived to see that dream of hers die. But that thought sure didn’t make me feel better.
And it sure didn’t make me miss her any less.
A stiff wind rustled the leaves of the trees around the house and caused the curtains to flutter around me. They reminded me of tethered ghosts.
I sighed again.
Sometimes I thought this house was haunted.
Sometimes, I thought it wasn’t just this house.
Chapter 5
I woke up to Buddy stepping on my legs, his petite little paws carrying what felt like 1,000 pounds per square centimeter of pressure.
“Ow!”
He looked at me with placid, unsympathetic green eyes, showing zero remorse for awakening me so rudely.
But when I looked at the clock, I understood why.
“ Not again !” I shouted, springing out of bed like Dracula from a coffin at sundown.
Buddy meowed loudly at me, wanting to make sure that I hadn’t forgotten about him in my haste.
The orange cat had probably been trying to wake me up for a long time now. But his desire for a second helping of cat food this morning was the least of my worries.
I was already half an hour late to work, and I was still in my PJs.
I rushed around the room, finding a jean skirt and a half-wrinkled top that I didn’t have time to iron. I threw my hair up in a ponytail and did a five-minute makeup job. I really could have used a shower, but there just wasn’t any time.
Today of all days , I thought, scolding myself.
I put in a pair of stud earrings, then slipped into the same heels I’d worn the day before. Buddy watched me anxiously as I collected my phone and notepads and various other materials I would need for the day ahead.
I hated being late.
When I had gotten everything I needed, I left the bedroom, rushing downstairs. Little paws followed closely behind me.
I went for the door, grabbing my purse and stuffing everything into it hastily. Then I grabbed the keys off the foyer counter and reached for the front door knob.
“Meoooowwww!!!”
I turned around and let out a sigh, giving the big cat a hard look.
“I know that Lou already fed you before she left this morning,” I said, looking into his sad little face. “Don’t try and pretend you didn’t have a nice turkey giblet feast this morning.”
That sorrow-filled, begging expression remained.
After a moment, I let out another sigh.
The cat had my number and he damn well knew it.
“Fine,” I said, putting my purse on the counter.
He seemed to understand me and turned his back, trotting toward the kitchen.
If I had one-tenth the manipulation capability that Buddy the orange cat possessed, I would have had my name etched on an office door at The New York Times by now.
Chapter 6
My hand dropped suddenly from the car door handle as I stared at the wreckage.
“ Son of a… ”
In the rush of being late, I had almost missed the disrupted leafage and torn-up flower petals strewn across the front yard.
I felt my hands ball up into fists at my side. I tossed my purse down on the ground and stomped over to the ripped-up rose bushes.
The Ripper of Labrador Lane had struck again.
When dog walkers let their pets poop on the lawn, it didn’t bother me that much. I just simply cleaned it up without complaint. When they let their dogs pee and dig their claws into the manicured grasses, I didn’t complain then either.
In fact, as far as I was concerned, the entire Fido force of Dog Mountain was welcome to the usage of my front lawn.
Just so long as they kept their paws, claws, and snouts out of the rose garden.
I surveyed the damage, feeling helpless and mad as hell all at the same time. A few of the plants’ branches had broken
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