Praise for
Murder, She Barked
“Krista Davis has created another charming series with a unique setting, an engaging heroine in Holly Miller and her furry sidekick, Trixie, and a wonderfully quirky supporting cast of characters—two-and four-legged. I’m looking forward to my next visit to The Sugar Maple Inn.”
—Sofie Kelly, New York Times bestselling author of the Magical Cats Mysteries
“Krista Davis has penned a doggone great new mystery series featuring witty, spirited Holly Miller and her endearing canine sidekick, Trixie. The adorable, pet-friendly setting of Wagtail Mountain will appeal to animal lovers and mystery lovers alike and the intriguing plot twists will keep you guessing to the very last page.”
—Kate Carlisle, New York Times bestselling author of the Bibliophile Mysteries
“Krista Davis has created a town that any pet would love—as much as their owners do. And they won’t let a little thing like murder spoil their enjoyment.”
—Sheila Connolly, New York Times bestselling author
Praise for the Agatha Award–nominated
Domestic Diva Mysteries
The Diva Digs up the Dirt
“Perfectly enjoyable.”
—RT Book Reviews
“A satisfying, complex story . . . [An] enjoyable mystery . . . Poignant, but also funny at times.”
—Vibrant Nation
“A fun mystery and a great way to spend a few hours by the pool or at the beach.”
—Booking Mama
The Diva Haunts the House
“The quirky characters are well developed, the story line is as crisp as a fall apple, and the twists and turns are as tight as a corkscrew.”
—AnnArbor.com
“Davis finely blends mystery and comedy, keeping The Diva Haunts the House entertaining and alluring.”
—SeattlePI.com
The Diva Cooks a Goose
“For fans of Donna Andrews and Diane Mott Davidson . . . [A] real winner.”
—The Season
“A great whodunit.”
—Once Upon a Romance
“This is not your run-of-the-mill cozy; the characters are real to life, interesting, and keep you wondering what will happen next. Krista Davis writes one enjoyable read.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
The Diva Paints the Town
“[Davis] handles this tricky tale with aplomb and fills it with a cast of eccentrics . . . And the three animals are endlessly amusing.”
—Richmond Times-Dispatch
“Another delectable whodunit, complete with recipes. Indeed, [Davis’s] novels are every bit as good as Diane Mott Davidson’s Goldy Schulz mysteries.”
—Shine
“[An] enjoyable mystery that includes decorating tips, a few pets, an unusual bequest, and recipes . . . Once again, Krista Davis brings us interesting, fun characters.”
—Lesa’s Book Critiques
“Ms. Davis immerses the reader into the world of interior design.”
—TwoLips Reviews
The Diva Takes the Cake
“The Diva Takes the Cake does just that—takes the cake.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Mistaken identities, half truths, buried secrets, missing jewelry, wedding jitters, and family squabbles are whipped into a sweet froth in this second of the Domestic Diva Mysteries . . . A fun little bonbon of a book to enjoy on the beach or as a break from any wedding plans.”
—ReviewingTheEvidence.com
“Sure to thrill cozy fans.”
—Fresh Fiction
“[A] delightful romp, with engaging characters and a nicely crafted setting in which to place them . . . Just the right tone to match her diva’s perfect centerpieces, tablescapes, and lighting effects.”
—Shine
The Diva Runs Out of Thyme
“[A] tricky whodunit laced with delectable food . . . [A] fine mystery that’s stuffed with suspects—and a reminder that nobody’s Thanksgiving is perfect.”
—Richmond Times-Dispatch
“A mouthwatering mix of murder, mirth, and mayhem, nicely spiced by new author Krista Davis.”
—Mary Jane Maffini, author of
The Busy Woman’s Guide to Murder
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Krista Davis
Domestic Diva Mysteries
THE DIVA RUNS OUT OF THYME
THE DIVA TAKES THE CAKE
THE DIVA PAINTS THE TOWN
THE DIVA COOKS A GOOSE
THE DIVA HAUNTS THE HOUSE
THE DIVA DIGS UP THE DIRT
THE DIVA FROSTS A CUPCAKE
Paws and Claws Mysteries
MURDER, SHE BARKED
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
USA • Canada • UK • Ireland • Australia • New Zealand • India • South Africa • China
penguin.com
A Penguin Random House Company
MURDER, SHE BARKED
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2013 by Cristina Ryplansky.
Excerpt from The Diva Wraps It Up by Krista Davis copyright © 2013
by Cristina Ryplansky.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group.
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-10159306-6
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / December 2013
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
Version_1
For my own beloved Oma, Elizabeth Jäger Pflüger, who loved nothing more than a good book
Contents
Praise for Krista Davis
Also by Krista Davis
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Holly’s List
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
&n
bsp; Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Author’s Note
Recipes
Special excerpt from The Diva Wraps It Up
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my new cover artist, Mary Ann Lasher, who captured the Sugar Maple Inn so beautifully. As always, thanks to my fabulous editor, Sandra Harding, and terrific agent, Jessica Faust. I count myself lucky every day to be able to write mysteries. Sandy and Jessica bring joy and humor to the process, making it all the more wonderful. Fletcher Cochran was kind enough to brainstorm plot ideas with me, for which I am most grateful. I hope you’re pleased with the result, Fletcher.
Thanks also to my friends in crime, Janet Bolin, Daryl Wood Gerber, Peg Cochran, Janet Koch, Kaye George, and Marilyn Levinson for always being only an email away. Also to Susan Erba, Amy Wheeler, and Betsy Strickland, for their friendship and for sticking with me through thick and thin. I would be remiss if I did not thank my mother, who remains my biggest fan. She’s not as mischievous as Holly’s Oma, but there’s a little bit of mom in that character.
Trixie and Twinkletoes are based on my own dog and cat whose antics keep me in stitches and provide fodder for their animal characters in Wagtail.
Last, but most certainly not least, I have to thank my readers for their continuing encouragement and support. Without you, I wouldn’t have the best job in the world!
If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and man.
—Mark Twain
Holly’s List
SUGAR MAPLE INN EMPLOYEES
Oma (Liesel Miller)—owner
Sven Berg—front-desk night shift
Casey Collins—front-desk night shift
Shelley Dixon—waitress
Zelda York—front-desk daytime
Chloe Kane—front-desk daytime
Tiny Goodwin—handyman, grounds
RELEVANT GUESTS
Mr. Luciano
WAGTAIL RESIDENTS
Jerry Pierce—mayor
Ellie Pierce—Jerry’s mom, co-owns Dolce with Oma
Rose Richardson—Oma’s best friend
Holmes Richardson—Rose’s grandson, my childhood friend
Dave Quinlan—Wagtail police officer
Thomas Hertzog—chef-owner of the Blue Boar
Prissy Clodfelter—co-owns dog accessory store, part-time police dispatcher
Peaches Clodfelter Wiggins—Prissy’s mom, co-owns dog accessory store
Mr. Wiggins—Peaches’ husband, Oma’s friend
Brewster Byrne—Hair of the Dog pub owner
Eric Dombrowski—pharmacist at HEAL! Drugs and Sundry
Mortie Foster—Ben’s boss, Kim’s dad, has fishing cabin (married to Jacqui)
Kim Foster—Mortie’s daughter
Hazel Mae and Del Izard—live near Mortie’s cabin
Philip Featherstone—1864 Inn bed-and-breakfast owner
Ben Hathaway—my boyfriend
One
It hadn’t been the best day. And now rain fell so hard on the windshield that the wipers whisked back and forth in overtime. If the needle on my gas gauge dipped any closer to E, it would turn into one of my top-ten worst days, and that was saying a lot, considering that I’d recently left my job without any prospects. I should have filled up on gas an hour or two ago, but I’d been in such a hurry that I pressed on. I squinted through the windshield in search of a gas station. I’d forgotten how far apart they were out in the country.
Relief surged through me at the sight of a combination convenience store and gas station. I turned off the road and pulled next to a gas tank, thanking my lucky stars I hadn’t been stuck in the rain miles from nowhere.
A spotlight cut through the downpour to reveal a bedraggled dog watching me. She stood up and offered a tentative wag of her tail.
The little dog huddled near the wall of the gas station, her eyes never wavering from their lock on me. The poor wet baby. Rain hammered sideways, plastering my hair to my head and soaking through my jacket while I filled my tank with gas. I could only imagine how drenched the dog must have been.
Laws probably prevented the owners from allowing their dog inside the gas station store, but they could at least provide a doghouse or some kind of shelter.
I dashed into the shop, biting back my desire to scold them for being so cruel to their dog. A lone hotdog turned in a roller grill on the counter, and I thought about buying it for the dog.
The woman behind the counter glanced my way for a second. “Been in there two months. Trust me, you don’t want it.”
Her hair billowed in an uncontrolled frizz as though she’d been as wet as I was. In her mid-forties, she had a good ten years on me. She returned to the magazine in her lap.
Self-consciously pushing my own hair back, I twisted it into a makeshift knot that I knew wouldn’t hold. There wasn’t much of a selection for dinner. I picked up a bag of nacho cheese Doritos. I’d given them up to lose weight but it was a well-known rule that all diets were off during road trips. Besides, I was about to explode from stress. If they’d had decent doughnuts, I would have bought one—or two or three.
“Coffee’s fresh,” she said. “I just put it on.”
I thanked her and poured half a cup full. “Any point in buying milk?”
“The stuff on that shelf is okay.”
I found little cartons, the kind kids take to school in their lunchboxes, dumped the entire contents of a box into the coffee and added sugar. It hardly resembled the lattes I liked so much, but it was the best I could do. I took my items to the cash register.
She looked up from her magazine and stared at me briefly before hopping off her stool. While she rang up my purchases, she glanced out the window into the night. “Where you headed?”
“Wagtail.”
“Be careful. The fog on the mountain will be so thick you won’t be able to see your own hands.”
I didn’t bother running through the rain to the car. The way things were going, I would surely spill my coffee or fall and land face-first in a puddle. Besides, at this point, I didn’t think I could be any wetter.
I opened the driver-side door, and the dirty little dog vaulted inside. She sat on the leather passenger seat, eyeing me.
Oh no. Not in Ben’s precious car. My boyfriend couldn’t tolerate a wisp of lint on a seat. He would have a fit when I brought his car back wet and muddy.
I leaned toward the dog. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you’re soaked through, but you can’t go with me.” I reached toward her, and she jumped into the backseat. Oh good. Let’s just spread the mud and dirt around a little bit more. Would a good car detailer be able to get mud stains out of the carpet?
Rain pelted me when I opened the rear door. No wonder she wanted to stay in the dry car. “I’m so sorry.” I reached for her, and she scrambled to the front, her slick fur allowing her to slip right through my fingers.
I trudged back to the convenience store. “Excuse me, but your dog is in my car. Maybe you could call her?”
The frazzle-haired woman narrowed her eyes. “So you’re the one she’s been waiting for.”
“What?”
“She picked you, darlin’. Some idiot dumped her out here
two weeks ago. Three people have tried to catch her but nothin’ doin’. She’s smart as a whip. The animal control guy even set up a trap out there for her. She’s half starved, but she never went for the meat in the trap. She’s been waiting for you.”
Homeless, starving, and wet. I could relate—in a way. A mere week ago, I had walked away from the security of my fund-raising position over a breach of ethics. Theirs, not mine. It had been stupid to leave a job without another one lined up, but who expected that kind of development in life? I had done the right thing, and I knew it. I still had a home, but without a paycheck coming in, things would start getting tight pretty fast.
The dog’s situation was certainly more dire than mine. In a couple of hours, I would be in my grandmother’s inn, wearing a fluffy white bathrobe and sneaking something delicious from the kitchen.
I wiped water off my cheek. My own precious yellow lab had succumbed to old age about the time I met Ben. Every day I drove by the animal shelter on my way to work and thought about adopting a dog. When I’d mentioned it to Ben, he’d nixed the idea, insisting we didn’t have time for a dog in our lives. Maybe we didn’t . . .
I sighed. Except for my grandmother’s dog, they weren’t allowed in the inn. “I . . . I can’t take her with me.” My words faded at the end of the sentence. I wanted to take her. I wanted to rescue her from her miserable life.
“If you don’t, she’ll get hit by a car or shot.”
“Shot? Who would shoot a harmless little dog?”
“Sooner or later she’s gonna go for somebody’s chickens. Darlin’, just take her with you. It’s karma, you know. That little girl knows something we don’t. Lots of cars come by here every day. There’s a reason she picked you.”
Murder, She Barked: A Paws & Claws Mystery (A Paws and Claws Mystery) Page 1