Mystic Mistletoe Murder
Page 21
"Too cool," Tino whispered, looking at all the machines. He looked down. "What's that?"
A piece of high-end luggage sat by the door. "I don't know," I said.
Tino bent and looked at the tag. "B. McDougal, Mr. Jupiter."
"But Brodie's out of town…"
It was cold in there. I shivered and remembered why we'd opened the door in the first place. "Fabio? Gil? Where are you?"
From somewhere inside they set to howling again, louder than ever.
"Over there." Tino lifted his chin toward the far corner of the big building where it looked as though a wall separated the main area from a smaller one.
The howling came from there.
As we drew closer, we could hear a motor pumping and a low roaring sound. The odd smell grew stronger, more complex and disturbing.
We stepped through the doorless entry where a big redwood hot tub bubbled and churned. The dogs sat beside it, their upturned muzzles sucking in the heavy scent, their mournful lament now understandable.
"Holy crap," I whispered.
"Dios," Tino breathed. "What you said."
I barely heard him over Fabio and Gil's heartrending howls. Vader began whining and stood on his hind legs, his front paws at my knee. I leaned down and picked him up. He was shaking. So was I.
Brodie McDougal floated facedown in the tub—I knew it was him from the long ginger curls he always seemed to be so proud of. One wrist was propped on the edge of the tub, and that arm was above the churning water up to the elbow, but the other arm, his shoulders, neck, and head were in the water. He was dead, and from the bloated look of his body, it appeared he'd been dead a few days. The steam rising from the hot tub carried the heavy odors that had assaulted us when we first came in, only stronger now since we were so close to the stewing corpse. I gagged, covering my nose and mouth.
This was a tragedy.
Poor Brodie.
Poor Caroline.
My eyes began to sting from salty tears, but I couldn't stop staring.
PASSION, POISON & PUPPY DOGS
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