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Hounding a Killer (Bailey the Bloodhound Mysteries, 2, Band 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 2: Bailey the Bloodhound Mysteries

Benjamin, Kallie E.

 
9780593547373: Hounding a Killer (Bailey the Bloodhound Mysteries, 2, Band 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593547373 ISBN 13: 9780593547373
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

It’s chaos in Crosbyville when someone tries to swindle a large inheritance, but as Pris and Bailey start digging for the missing money, they uncover the wrong kind of bones….

Finally finished with the renovations on her new house, bestselling children’s book author Pris and her trusty bloodhound, Bailey, are finding more opportunities to join the community, including attending the annual town festival. But their efforts are paw-sed when David Townsend, volatile grandson of the late wealthy resident Edward Townsend, comes to fetch his inheritance.

After the new arrival riles up several other locals with petty arguments, the once sleepy town goes barking mad. Before long, the wealthy bachelor disappears without a trace, and the police suspect foul play. Bailey’s tracking instincts helped them collar the last criminal in Crosbyville, so the cops turn to Pris and her sweet hound to track down David.

But on their search-and-rescue mission, Pris and Bailey sniff out fraud, theft, and a body. Before they know it, both are hackles-deep inside another homicide investigation. Can the unlikely duo chase down the killer, or will they be left chasing their own tails?

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Valerie Burns, writing as Kallie E. Benjamin, is the author of three mystery series. She is a mentor in the Master of Fine Arts program for writing popular fiction at Seton Hill University in Greensburg, PA, where she earned her own MFA degree. Valerie currently lives in North Georgia with her two poodles, Kensington and Chloe.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1

"Have you contacted the police?" Anna asked.

"The police can't help me. I need Bailey the Bloodhound to find Max before it's too late."

"What do you mean?" Anna asked.

"In three days, Max will inherit fifty million dollars, IF he appears for the reading of his late uncle Herbert's will. So, you see, it's critical that we find him."

Anna turned to her partner. "What do you think?"

Bailey the Bloodhound's gaze moved from Carey to Anna. After a moment, he stood up and barked.

"Looks like Bailey the Bloodhound, Pet Detective, is on the case," Anna said.

I read out loud the words I'd just written while I sat at a picnic table waiting for Gilbert and Marcie-my boyfriend and my best friend-to get back from the food tents at the Crosbyville Fall Festival. We knew from experience that the lines at this two-day annual festival would be crazy long. My aunt Agatha was one of the food vendors and suggested that arriving early on the first day would improve our odds of eating before we were ready to pass out, but I wasn't so certain. Still, it's good to have a plan, so while Gilbert and Marcie braved the food lines, my dog, Bailey, and I secured a seat, which we also knew would be scarce as the day progressed.

I loved writing outside and today the weather was perfect. Not too hot. Not too windy. And not raining. Crosbyville, Indiana, had had more than its fair share of rain this fall, which had threatened to cancel the festival. However, a change of venue and a streak of good weather saved the day and the festival.

"Should I add that Max is a dachshund?" I glanced down at Bailey, my three-year-old bloodhound, but he didn't bother lifting his head from his paws. His dark soulful eyes held mine for a few moments, and then he closed his always-droopy lids and returned to sleep.

"You're not helping. We need to get this book written. My editor says if I can get this third book finished by the end of the month, he can get it typeset and printed this year. Then it will be in bookstores in six months. And you know what that means, right?"

Bailey didn't budge.

"It means we'll get paid. Which means that I can buy new tires before winter and you, my muse, can get those expensive liver treats you like."

That did it. The L-word got Bailey's eyes open. He stood up and glanced around as though looking for those elusive snacks.

I chuckled and scratched Bailey's floppy ears. "Calm down, boy. They aren't here now. We have to finish writing The Case of the Dancing Dachshund, the next book in The Adventures of Bailey the Bloodhound first."

"Who are you talking to?"

I froze and racked my brain to remember what I'd said, apparently out loud. I turned and glanced up into the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen. "Excuse me?"

"I heard you talking and wondered if you were on the phone, but I don't see earbuds. Before I interrupted you, I was . . . never mind. Are you free, love?" Handsome Blue Eyes flashed a pearly white smile. A thirtysomething-year-old man with a lovely accent stared down at me.

His question-"Are you free?"-reminded me of the classic line from a 1970s Britcom, Are You Being Served? A love of mysteries, classic movies, and old sitcoms was one of the things my best friend, Marcella Rutherford, and I had in common. "Um, yes. I'm free."

Blue Eyes smiled. "Great, my name's David. David Townsend. I'm looking for-"

"Oh, you're David Townsend." I stared for several moments and then pulled my gaze away from the pool of blue. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and then cleared my throat. "I'm sorry, it's just we've been expecting you. I mean, we've all heard you were coming and- Condolences."

He tilted his head to the side and stared. "Expecting me?"

"News travels fast in a small town. Even though your grandfather didn't interact with a lot of people in the community, we all knew that he was expecting his grandson to arrive. We've all been excited to meet you."

He straightened up and grinned. "How well do I measure up? I expect the old man may have built me up too much."

The twinkle in his eyes told me that David Townsend was fishing for a compliment. Still, the heat rising up my neck meant that I had fallen into his trap.

"Oh no. You're fine . . . I mean, you're not a disappointment."

"Good. I would hate to disappoint." David Townsend laughed. "Before this week, I hadn't seen the old man in years. I heard he was a recluse?"

"He was one of the richest men in the state . . . well, in the country, but rarely left his house and only interacted with a small number of people. This is my first time visiting his farm."

"Oh really? I assumed you knew him."

"Your grandfather kept to himself, but he loved my aunt's cooking. She owns the Blue Plate Special Café downtown. It was one of the few places that he visited regularly. He got to be good friends with my aunt Agatha. In fact, I always thought he had a bit of a crush on her."

"Thank you, love." David Townsend smiled. "Now, I'm supposed to be awarding the ribbons at the equestrian event, and I haven't visited the old place in donkey years. Could you perhaps . . . give me directions?" He waved an arm. "The estate's massive and I've gotten a bit turned around."

"Directions? Oh, you want me to . . . Sure." I glanced at my phone. "Bailey and I need to head that way, too. I promised one of my students I'd watch her in the show jumping, which starts at ten." I tucked away my notepad and pen and shoved them in my backpack. I got up from the table where I'd settled in to sneak in a little writing.

Bailey stretched as though he'd just been running a marathon instead of napping under the table. He sniffed David Townsend. He didn't seem impressed. He snorted and turned his back.

"Bailey?" David Townsend pointed.

"Yes." I slipped my backpack on, grabbed Bailey's leash, and headed off in the direction of the equestrian ring, which I'd seen on the festival map along with the itinerary.

David Townsend matched my pace, which allowed me to steal a glance out of the corner of my eye. He was tall and thin with dark hair, blue eyes, and a strong jaw. He was handsome and something in his bearing, the tilt of his head or the way he walked, told me that he was well aware of the fact that women found him attractive. But it made him even less attractive to me. He walked as though he owned the earth, which, given how rich his grandfather had been, probably wasn't far from the truth.

Townsend was wearing caramel brown linen slacks and a cream shirt. His shoes were the same color as his pants and looked as soft as butter. They were extremely nice. Too nice for tramping through the grass at a festival, but I supposed he could afford to replace them if they were ruined. Maybe he had an entire closet of Italian leather shoes. When one pair was ruined, he tossed them away and pulled out another. That wasn't my reality. Still, it must be nice.

It was a beautiful autumn day. The leaves were changing colors and while the sun was shining, there was a slight nip in the air that indicated it would be a cool night. We walked across the expansive lawn over the one hundred-acre estate that had belonged to Edward Townsend, toward the stable and equestrian center in companionable silence.

"I feel at a disadvantage. You know who I am. I've met Bailey, but . . . I don't know the name of Bailey's lovely owner."

I felt my face flush. "I'm sorry. My name's Priscilla Cummings, but everyone calls me Pris."

"Pleased to meet you, Pris." He extended his hand, and we shook. He held on to my hand a bit too long and gazed into my eyes with a lopsided grin. After a few beats, I pulled my hand away and felt the heat rush up my neck.

We continued our walk across the grass, which was...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2025
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593547373
ISBN 13 
9780593547373
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
401
Kontakt zum Hersteller
BERKLEY
https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY

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