I didn’t want to get them in trouble for having a non-service dog inside the coffee shop, but I wanted to hear the report—especially since it appeared that Elise Ethman was being interviewed by one of the reporters. I picked Biscuit up.
“Why don’t you just come into our office?” Irma asked, sympathy written all over her slightly aging face. “We can watch it there.”
“Thanks.” I followed her out of the serving area and down a hallway. The office was fairly roomy, and after turning her computer screen around so we could both see it, she sat on one chair while pointing me to another. I put Biscuit on the floor, and all three of us watched the news unfold as one of the servers brought in lunch.
Sure enough, Elise was still being interviewed. She expressed sorrow and disbelief that the person who’d killed her sister-in-law Myra was someone who barely knew her: Judy Zelener. It made no sense to her, and yet she appeared a bit relieved to have learned that the suspect wasn’t a relative, either by blood or marriage.
Next, the announcer interviewed Harris Ethman. He, too, expressed sorrow and skepticism. He didn’t mention me by name but hinted that the suspect had a connection to another person, her employer, who’d argued with his poor dead wife about their competing businesses. And maybe that person had somehow put the current suspect up to committing the terrible deed. There was some indication, he said, that a leash very similar to the one used to strangle his wife had been bought by that person at his very shop.
Harris’s eyes grew even shiftier at that, and my suspicion that he’d forged that receipt he gave the cops grew even stronger. Why? To frame me? To get suspicion off of him? Or had he simply been using the situation to help build his own pet business while trashing mine?
It no longer mattered.
Although at that moment I did have some urge to strangle Harris—not that I’d ever do such a thing.
“You’re okay?” Irma asked when I stood to return to my shops. “You’re not letting that miserable Harris get to you, are you?”
Even if I was, I didn’t need to admit it to her. “I’m fine,” I assured her. “Especially now.”
But I also realized that I might always have a difficult rivalry with Harris. I’d just have to live with that.
I spent a couple of hours back at the shops, spelling Dinah while she went to lunch. I called the vet clinic and made sure everyone was all right with my limiting my shift that day to one hour. That hour arrived quickly after Dinah’s return, and passed quickly at the clinic. I hurried back to my shops with Biscuit and remained there until it was time to close for the day.
Somehow I was surprised when my two detective buddies came in late in the afternoon. They offered no apologies for their earlier harassment, of course, but they did say that things were going well in their current investigation. If I had any further thoughts or comments about what had happened, they would be more than glad to hear them.
I gave them both some free treats to take with them when they finally left—more in relief that they were going than to bribe them to stay away from me. I gave dog treats to Wayne and people-cookies to Bridget.
My cell phone had hardly stopped ringing that day, and I’d put it on mute, just checking it now and then. I’d returned a couple of the calls while sitting in my tiny office during a customer lull. One was to my attorney Ted. “Glad you’re not a suspect any longer, Carrie,” he’d said. “Maybe you and I can grab dinner one of these nights, just for fun.”
Just for flirting, I assumed, now that he apparently didn’t need to provide me with legal representation. I liked the guy, so that was a definite maybe.
So was a pending visit from Jack Loroco. He’d heard the news too, in Los Angeles, and had been really glad to hear both that I was all right and that I no longer had cops breathing down my neck.
He told me he’d been informed of his company’s decision about buying my recipes—they’d thought the idea was a bit premature, but said they would keep it in mind.
So would I, but at this point I doubted I’d want to sell my recipes. It would be better just to build my own businesses. Maybe some good would even result from my current notoriety. Not that I’d wanted to get publicity this way, but I’d use it if I could.
Jack added, though, that a discussion of the potential future timing for a business arrangement between us would provide a good excuse for him to come for a visit in a few weeks.
That was fine with me.
I pondered, as I hung up, whether I’d still ask Chef Manfred to help create other doggy treats for Barkery and Biscuits—and, if so, how he’d feel about our maybe selling the recipes to VimPets. I would ask him both questions one of these days.
That evening, I allowed Dinah to leave early. Allowed? Heck, I encouraged my very sweet, very dedicated assistant to go home and rest up for the next day, since she insisted she’d be back again then.
“We might need more help soon,” I told her. “If you have any ideas for someone else to bring in, let me know.”
“I sure will,” she said. “Oh, and Carrie?”
“Yes?” There was something in her smile and tone that suggested she was about to say something important. Surely she wasn’t going to give notice that she was about to quit—was she?
It turned out to be nearly the opposite. “I’m really sorry about everything that happened—but can we talk about it more sometime? I’ve already got some ideas, and I might use this whole situation in a book someday—fictionalized, of course.”
I laughed. “Of course.” But nothing could be stranger than the reality of all that had occurred around here.
When I was finally ready to close up for the night, I walked around all sides of the shop and kitchen. I couldn’t help remembering how things had been here last night, and I shuddered yet again.
But I couldn’t help feeling a little proud of myself too. I might have needed Reed’s help to save my life, but I was actually the one to figure out—with some investigation and discussion and brainstorming—who Myra’s killer had been.
In those last minutes before Judy had come in to confront me, I’d recalled her words when we’d talked about my being a suspect in Myra’s murder: I know you didn’t kill Myra. Maybe the cops will figure that out too. I’d assumed at the time that she was just being supportive, but it finally hit me that she’d been telling the truth about what she knew—and that she didn’t necessarily want the cops to figure it out. And the partial Barkery biscuit found near Myra’s body? Judy certainly would have been able to acquire it easily—
and use it to frame me.
I’d also thought of her belligerence in another conversation about Myra, that time with Dinah. Together, these recollections had triggered my last-minute suspicions.
In any event, I was glad I could finally put that murder behind me and go on with my life.
No more detecting for me, and that was a good thing.
But I’d decided to invite Reed and Hugo to my house for another home-cooked meal soon, as an additional thank you for their help.
The End
BARKERY AND BISCUITS DOG TREAT RECIPE
Peanut Butter Dog Cookie Recipe
Into a food processor, place:
1 cup natural peanut butter
1½ cups whole wheat flour
2 eggs
½ cup oatmeal blended to a powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
½ teaspoon ginger
Blend the ingredients, then add water to bind to a stiff dough.
Roll out the dough between layers of plastic wrap and cut into desired shapes.
Bake at 310°F for around 40 minutes. The cookies will not rise as they have no rising agents.
ICING ON THE CAKE PEOPLE TREAT RECIPE
Rosemary, Lime, and Pignoli Biscotti
2 cups sugar
3 cups pignoli (pine nuts), lightly toasted
2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, minced
1 cup butter, melted
¼ cup limoncello or water
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Zest from 2 limes
Juice from 2 limes
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 eggs at room temperature
5½ cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
Mix all but eggs, flour, and baking powder in a large bowl. Beat in the eggs, one at a time. Mix flour and baking powder thoroughly, then stir into mixture. Put mixture into a gallon-sized zip-seal bag, close the zipper, and flatten sideways to fill the bag uniformly. Refrigerate flat at least three hours or overnight. Preheat oven to 375°F, and grease 2 large baking sheets. Slice dough (right through the bag!) into 5 equal pieces. After removing the plastic, dampen your hands and shape each piece into a long loaf ½" high and 2" wide, spacing them 4" apart on prepared baking sheets. Bake until firm to the touch, about 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool 15 minutes, but maintain oven temperature at 375°F. Slice each loaf diagonally into ½" to ¾" slices, and arrange slices cut-side down on the baking sheets. Bake until lightly toasted, about 7 or 8 minutes on each side (this step can be done in batches). Cool on a rack. Makes about 6 dozen.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m delighted to be starting a second mystery series with Midnight Ink! Many thanks, as always, to my amazing agent Paige Wheeler, as well as to my fantastic editor Terri Bischoff.
Thanks also to the wonderful people who helped me write and improve Bite the Biscuit by reading and commenting on the manuscript. You know who you are!
And I have to admit that, unlike Carrie Kennersly, who stars in the Barkery & Biscuits Mysteries, I’m not much of a cook. I thank some good friends profusely (but without identifying them!) for the recipes at the end of this book.
© Christine Rose Elle
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda O. Johnston (Los Angeles, CA) has published thirty-eight romance and mystery novels, including the Pet Rescue Mystery series and the Pet-Sitter Mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime, and Lost Under a Ladder in the Superstition Mystery series with Midnight Ink.
Table of Contents
Copyright Information
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Recipe: Barkery and Biscuits Dog Treats
Recipe: Icing on the Cake People Treats
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Bite the Biscuit (A Barkery & Biscuits Mystery) Page 26
