Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse

by Heather Horrocks

  Liz choked on laughter. “Oh, please, I so don’t want to go there.”

  I didn’t blame her and changed the subject. “Colton is out of jail now.”

  “Herbert said Misty is going to stay with him for awhile. And he told Colton he needs to earn enough money for a wedding ring so he can take care of his family. He also said after the wedding, they could move in while Colton finishes school.”

  Liz was quiet.

  Grandma went on. “Herbert also told me he’s flying down to visit his daughter, Misty’s mother. He hasn’t seen her since she ran away.”

  “So he confessed because he thought Misty killed Gene?” Lonny asked.

  Paul nodded. “He thought he was going to jail in Misty’s place.”

  Zach hugged Liz. “Don’t cry, Aunt Liz. You’ll see Uncle Gene again.”

  “I know, baby,” she said, hugging him. “Thanks.”

  David walked over to me and spoke softly. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

  “Oh, you have, have you? About what?”

  “I’ve been thinking it would be nice if we went out sometime. Like on a date.”

  I looked at his eyes. I couldn’t help teasing him. “Feel free to ask.”

  He chuckled. “I’m working up my courage.”

  Lonny came closer to us and glared at David, who smiled.

  “Has anyone heard if Georgia is coming to the Thanksgiving dinner?” I asked about my black sheep sister, trying to avoid an all-out war between my wannabe beaus.

  Grandma said, “She said she’s coming.”

  “Good.” Liz pushed herself up and brushed off her pants. “Now you men, come with me. Let’s let Vicki and Zach visit with his father.”

  The men reluctantly followed her.

  I held Zach’s hand as we carried our flowers to Robert’s grave.

  We both knelt on the grass to set out the flowers we brought. When we finished, Zach flopped onto his backside and hugged his knees. Looking at me, he said, seriously, “Mom, do you think Dad minds that David comes to our house so much?”

  I looked at my son, so similar to his father, and decided to tell him about my previous visit. “I came up here and talked with your father. I told him it was time for me to move on. What do you think about that?”

  Zach shrugged. “I like David. I think Dad likes him, too.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “Dad likes Lonny, too.”

  I smiled. “They’re both very nice men.”

  “And they both like you, Mom.”

  I sat down beside him with my knees against my chest. “Yes, I suppose they do. That’s very perceptive of you to notice.”

  He pondered that for a moment before asking, “So the murder was solved, right?”

  I laughed, knowing where this was headed. “Yes. The murder was solved.”

  “So you’re going to keep your promise now.”

  “Yes, I definitely am.”

  “And no one said Penny was theirs, right?”

  I laughed again, finding such infinite joy in my son. There were no calls to claim the dog, though I called both vets and the animal shelter as well as pasting a flyer up at the supermarket. “Right.”

  “And Penny is a grown dog.”

  “Yes.”

  “So do I get to keep Penny?”

  I hugged him close, my love overflowing from my heart. “Yes. You can keep the stupid dog.”

  There was much rejoicing.

  ~ THE INN’D ~

  Thank You!

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my book, Inn the Doghouse, the second in the Who-Dun-Him cozy mystery series. I love to write these light-hearted, humorous mysteries to allow people to curl up with a good book for an afternoon. I hope you were entertained.

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  Did you see any (gasp!) errors or typos?

  Though this book has gone through numerous edits, by myself and others, including two professional editors, we are human. If you spot any errors or typos, please email me at BooksByHeatherHorrocks@gmail.com and let me know! I want my books to be as clean as possible, both in content and in format.

  Thanks again…

  For your time and interest, and for telling your friends about my books. If you’d like to know more about my other books, that section is just a page or two away.

  Happy tales, Heather Horrocks

  www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com

  About the Author

  Raised overseas by her shop-til-you-drop mother and pay-for-the-purchases oilman father, avid mystery and romantic comedy lover Heather read her way through Columbia, Venezuela, London, Kuwait, and Iran—and later bought a video store so she could watch stories on the little screen, too.

  She’s written numerous bestselling novels; two mystery series (Who-Dun-Him Inn and Bad Mothers Club), romantic comedies (including the Chick Flick Clique and Christmas Street series), and inspirational books (Women Who Knew the Mortal Messiah).

  She loves anyone who can make her laugh, which explains why she adores her witty husband, her funny friends, Anne George mysteries, Bill Cosby, and her cute little dog Gus. She loves to cook for friends, siblings, and especially her nine children and stepchildren and their families. She and her husband reside in Utah. You can find her online at www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com.

  Books by Heather Horrocks

  Christmas Street Romantic Comedy Novella Series

  Bah, Humbug!

  Kissing Santa

  Deck the Malls and The Naughty List (2014)

  Who-Dun-Him Inn Cozy Mystery Series

  Snowed Inn #1

  Inn the Doghouse #2

  Inn the Family Way #3 and The Czech’s Inn the Mail #4 (2014)

  Bad Mothers Club Cozy Mystery Series

  Murder is Misunderstood #1

  Chick Flick Clique Romantic Comedy series

  A Hound Dog Named Elvis (in A Timeless Romance: Autumn anthology)

  Pride and Precipitation #1

  Regally Blonde #2

  My Spare Lady #3 and While You Were Stranded #4 (2014)

  Inspirational Books

  Women Who Knew the Mortal Messiah

  Men Who Knew the Mortal Messiah

  Women and Men Who Knew the Mortal Messiah

  Women Who Knew the Great Jehovah (2014)

  LDS Romances & Other

  You Just Turned 8: An LDS Baptism Book (2014)

  How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini

  Old Maid of Honor

  Baby Mine

  Previews

  For previews of upcoming books by Heather Horrocks, to sign up for New Releases email, or for more information about the author, visit www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Diane Darcy and Kristin Holt for help in plotting this story. Our hours at Marie Callender’s were deliciously productive.

  Thanks to my awesome editor, Anissa Wall, and Teri (Editing Fairy.com). Thanks for making me look good.

  Thanks to my readers: Diane Darcy, A.N. Allan, Rangi Moleni, Dawniece Duren, Molly Ford, Marie Barnhurst, and my final reader, Janelle Fenn.

  Thanks to my editors, Anissa Wall and Teri the Editing Fairy.

  And thanks to all my readers who loved Snowed Inn and asked for more. Here it is! I hope you enjoy!

  Excerpt: Snowed Inn

  Who-Dun-Him Inn
Series #1

  Mystery buff Vicki Butler plans to kill someone this weekend.

  Nothing personal, just business.

  The killer grand opening weekend at her new Who-Dun-Him Inn is all fun and games— until an unplanned dead body appears. With a murderer on the loose, young, single mom Vicki is forced to keep her family, guests, and actors safe while searching for clues.

  Her author guests, also the prime suspects, try their hand at solving this real-life whodunit, in the process hindering the investigation by local law enforcement officers. Things really go downhill when her twin, Liz, shows up, trailed by flamboyant Grandma Ross, who announces she’s seeking a boy toy among the suspects.

  When both a younger local man and an out-of-town news hound start sniffing around the inn, and Vicki, she realizes she’s got more than just a murderer to worry about.

  Can she solve the mystery before the killer strikes again? Or will this case of opening night jitters prove to be her undoing?

  CHAPTER ONE

  “SURPRISE, VICKI!” GRANDMA NAOMI ROSS flung her arms out wide enough that my twin sister, Liz Eklund, dodged with a quick step to the left. “I bet you didn’t expect us today, did you?”

  “Uh,” I said, disoriented. When the doorbell rang, I expected to find Sharon, my cook for the evening, who was already an hour late. But, instead, it was Liz and Grandma standing on my porch, bundled against the October weather.

  I looked behind them. I really, desperately needed my cook. An hour ago. This was my grand opening weekend and it had to go perfectly.

  After a moment of silence, my sister raised an eyebrow. “I take it we’re not a pleasant surprise?”

  “Of course you are,” I lied, pulling myself together and glancing behind them—still no sign of Sharon—as my anxiety level rose another notch. I tried to reassure myself. Sharon was very reliable. Surely, she’d show up soon. Or at least, call.

  In the meantime, I tried to remember my manners. “Come on in.”

  As they moved forward, I looked past them, dismayed. “It’s still snowing?”

  Liz brushed flakes off her coat and nodded, but hurried to reassure me, “But not bad. Your guests shouldn’t have any problems getting up the mountain. There’s a sprinkling on the road, but we were able to drive right up.”

  Grandma stepped inside, wrapped me in a snowy hug, and kissed my cheek. I let myself sink into the familiar, comforting embrace. “Congratulations, darling. You’ve done wonders for the old place. It’s good to see it open for business again.”

  She gave me a nice, strong embrace. In darn good shape for a woman her age, Grandma was always well put together, with flattering makeup and an expensive hairstyle. She exercised more than I did.

  As they hung their coats on the wall hooks closest to the entry, I closed the door behind them and followed Grandma into the Mayor’s Parlor. She sank down onto the Queen Anne loveseat that used to belong to Grandpa George and her when they ran the Ross Mansion Bed and Breakfast, before my parents bought it.

  I looked around, thinking of all there still was to do. But surely, I could give my family five minutes. And that thought shot my panic level up another notch.

  “How long before everyone arrives?” asked Liz, looking out the window.

  I checked my watch. It was 1:12. Nine minutes later than the last time I checked. “The guests will be here in two hours. The actors are here rehearsing, thank heavens. Cielo is putting the finishing touches on the rooms, and Kent is fixing something on the gas fireplace in the Nancy Drew room. But Sharon’s an hour late and I haven’t heard from her.”

  Grandma patted the seat next to her. “Come here, Vicki. You need to take a deep breath. Everything is going to work out fine. You just have a good case of opening night jitters.”

  If you’d like to read more, go to www.BooksByHeather.com.

  Excerpt: Murder is Misunderstood

  Bad Mothers Club Series #1

  Good mothers are understanding. Bad mothers are misunderstood.

  When stay-at-home mom Becky Montgomery caught her husband of twenty-three years in their bed with another woman and beat him up a year ago, she never dreamed her children would blame her for the impending divorce.

  Feeling like maternal failures, she and her friends feisty PI Sam and “No-One’s-Accused-Me-Of-Being-Mother” Teresa form the Bad Mothers Club in order to deal with their various heartaches.

  When her soon-to-be-ex-husband Jack is accused of murdering Becky’s first date in over two decades, the Bad Mothers set out to prove his innocence, but only for the sake of Becky’s children.

  These Bad Mothers have faced everything from terrible twos and sleep deprivation to rebellious teens and heartbreak—they’re not about to let a mere murderer stop them from winning the Worst Mother of the Month award.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after.

  IF LIFE WERE FAIR, the five depressing hours I’d just spent at the mall buying all-black school clothes for my youngest daughter Gina would have meant the worst part of my day was behind me and I could now relax with dinner, a good book, and a long bath. But of course everyone knows life isn’t fair. So when I pulled into my driveway and discovered Kramer lounging on my front porch swing like he owned the world, I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t overly surprised, either.

  Normally his choosing my place over Jack’s brought me a wicked sort of enjoyment, but today I was too emotionally drained to handle the inevitable upheaval caused by his presence. I didn’t want to see Jack today, and I didn’t want him to see my messy living room full of stuff I was in the process of boxing and hauling to the thrift store. Uncluttering my life was proving to be very messy. And convincing Gina not to call her father until morning could be even messier.

  “Seinfeld is back!” Delighted, Gina was a black blur as she raced to the porch and scooped him into her arms.

  I took my time, pulling out the mail from the box and going through it. All bills. All for me. Becky Montgomery. I’d kept the Montgomery because it was also my children’s last name. Plus I’d gotten used to it over the years.

  When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I moved slowly toward my beautiful two-story brick home with flower beds lining the walk that was no longer the haven it had once been.

  I passed Gina and Kramer and, with a shake of my head, unlocked the front door and stepped from Colorado’s August heat into my cool entryway.

  Gina followed me inside.

  With a sigh, I scratched the cat behind the ears. “Didn’t you listen to those high-powered attorneys, Kramer? You don’t live here any more.”

  “Mother, his name is Seinfeld.”

  Mother? Since when had my sixteen-year-old daughter started calling me Mother instead of plain ole Mom? It sounded so foreign. So detached. So extremely self-righteous. And the prim tone seemed more than a little strange coming from a confused teenage girl dressed entirely in goth black.

  “Dad named him Seinfeld ’cause he’s so funny,” she explained as if I’d been living in a bubble for the five years since we brought the cat home. Kramer occupied a tender place in my heart for many reasons, the first and foremost being the fact that he valued this forty-four-year-old woman for herself, unlike some husbands I could name.

  “But he keeps sliding through our door just like Kramer.” I went for flippant as I reached out to stroke the Siamese cat’s soft, two-toned, dark-brown-and-beige fur. “Complete with crazy stand-on-end hair.”

  “Seinfeld,” she repeated firmly, as though that ended all argument, forever. Lowering the cat to the floor, she raised an eyebrow and continued her lecture. “We should call him the name Dad wants. He paid for him, fair and square.”

  “Yes, he did.” I turned my head to hide my smile. Jack had made a huge concession in our not-quite-finalized divorce: I could have the antique sideboard I loved, the one that had belonged to his grandmother, in exchange for h
im keeping his cat.

  The sideboard seemed to like it at my house. Unfortunately for Jack, the cat did, too.

  I called him Kramer in an attempt to distance myself. And because it ticked off Jack. And on normal days I loved it when the cat ignored the attorneys’ pronouncements.

  I shook my head. “If he’s Dad’s cat, then why does he keep coming over here all the time?”

  “Because you feed him tuna.”

  Note to self: Buy more tuna.

  If you’d like to read more, go to www.BooksByHeather.com.

  Excerpt: Kissing Santa

  (Christmas Street Romantic Comedy Series #2)

  It was supposed to be just an innocent kiss at a charity kissing booth—but it turned out to be fireworks.

  ‘Volunteered’ to dress as Santa, firefighter Zeke Pepper is blown away by the kiss and feels he may have met The One, but school teacher Hannah Cooke is still trying to win back her high school sweetheart Jackson.

  When Zeke runs into Hannah on Christmas Street, they make a deal: In exchange for him making her ex jealous at a New Year’s Eve party, she agrees to go on three dates with Zeke.

  It seems like her plan to win Jackson back is working perfectly—but Zeke has other plans. Could she be falling in love with the wrong firefighter?

  CHAPTER ONE

  “YOU GOT YOUR KISSING FACE ON, PEPPER?”

  “Nope. I didn’t sign up for the booth.” Zeke Pepper glanced at his fellow firefighter as he plopped his heavy boots into place under his even heavier fireproof suit. They’d just returned to the fire station. “And I’m glad.”