“I do, too. She couldn’t face the fact that even though her brother was sick, what he did was wrong. It wasn’t Sophie’s fault. She thinks the women in the shelter deserve the things that happen to them.”
He stared at the shelter entrance. “What kind of woman thinks that?”
“One that’s as sick as her stepbrother.”
Justin interrupted. “I think you should get checked out at the hospital just in case,” Justin said.
“I’m fine, and I need to check on the dogs.” The poor little terrier must have been a mess. One of the officers took him and placed him in another room. “Can I go in now?”
“For a few minutes,” Justin said.
I opened the door to the other intake room and the poor little guy was shaking and whining in the corner. “Oh sweetie, you poor thing.” I bent down and gently picked him up, cradling his shaky little body in my arms. “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for you.” I nuzzled his face, and he licked me. “Aw, thank you little guy.”
I carried him back to the kennel and rushed over to Bandit and Allie as the dogs all barked their greeting. I set my new buddy down and he quickly stuffed himself in the corner of the cage and away from the other two dogs. I grabbed them both and hugged them tight.
“This is your new buddy,” I said. “I don’t know his name yet, but we’ll figure it out. Be nice to him, okay? I need to check on the other dogs.”
Max came by the house later that evening. While Allie and Bandit snoozed in their beds by the fireplace—like a gun wielding woman hadn’t almost killed their mother—the terrier stuck close to my side on the couch, providing the perfect barrier between me and Max.
He scratched the top of the dog’s head. “You’re keeping him, aren’t you?”
“I’ll foster him. He can’t go back to the shelter. Poor guy’s been through two traumatic experiences in one day.”
He smiled. “Got a name for him yet?”
“I’ve been trying to think of one. Any suggestions?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Seems like a pretty tough little fellow. How about Buster?”
I grimaced. “I don’t think so.”
“Barney?”
“Like the purple dinosaur? No, thanks. I don’t need that theme song stuck as a permanent ear worm.” I picked up the dog, held him in front of my head, and kissed his little black nose. “You’re a tough one for sure, aren’t you, big guy? And tough puppies deserve strong names.”
“How about Magnum?”
“Magnum?” I shook the small mass of hair as I held him at face level. He licked my nose again. “You like that? You like Magnum?”
He barked.
Max laughed. “Looks like he does.”
I kissed his nose again. “Then Magnum it is.”
The End
Other Books By Carolyn
The Angela Panther Mystery Series
Unfinished Business
Unbreakable Bonds
Uncharted Territory
Unexpected Outcomes
Unbinding Love
The Christmas Elf
The Ghosts
Undetermined Events
The Event
The Favor
The Lily Sprayberry Realtor Cozy Mystery Series
Deal Gone Dead
Decluttered and Dead
The Scarecrow Snuff Out
Sleigh Bells & Sleuthing (A Holiday Author Novella Collection featuring Lily Sprayberry)
Signed, Sealed and Dead
Bidding War Break-In
The Claus Killing
Open House Heist
Realtor Rub Out
Santa’s Little Thief (in The 12 Cozy Mystery Carols of Christmas Collection)
The Chantilly Adair Psychic Medium Cozy Mystery Series
Get Up and Ghost
Ghosts Are People Too
Praying for Peace
Haunting Hooligans
The Pooch Party Cozy Mystery Series
Pooches, Pumpkins, and Poison
Hounds, Harvest, and Homicide
Author Shared Series
Mourning Crisis (The Funeral Fakers Series)
The Holiday Hills Witch Cozy Mystery Series
There’s a New Witch in Town (Coming soon!)
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Jen, my favorite proofreader, JC Wing, ARC supervisor Lynn Shaw, my wonderful ARC team, and my friends and family who’ve supported me as I’ve traveled along this writing journey. Most of all, thank you to my ‘Hottie Hubby’ for being my best friend and my biggest fan.
About the Author
Even though I’ve always wanted to be a writer, I also wanted to support myself, so instead of following that dream, I opted to get a job with a regular paycheck.
When my mother died in 2009, and then I lost my father less than a year later, I decided to take the leap. I wanted to find a way to honor my parents, to keep their memories alive, and I did that with my first book, Unfinished Business.
That book went to number one all over and sat happily in the top one hundred books sold in each for over a week with one particular outlet.
I received hundreds of emails from people who felt that little semi-mystery gave them hope, that it made them find comfort when they needed it most, and that they wished they had a friend like Mel.
I was hooked.
I don’t write for the money (though the money is nice sometimes). I write for those emails, and knowing I’m doing what I love, finally. If my writing takes people away from their worries for even a short period of time, I’m a lucky gal.
I hope my parents can read in Heaven.
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Hounds, Harvest, and Homicide Page 15
