Let Slip the Dogs of War: A Bard's Bed & Breakfast Mystery #1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

body.”
     

Chapter Four --
     
    “Come on,” Ben groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Now is not the time to put your foot down. I have to have
something to wrap her in so I can drop her over the railing. I
can’t send her down there stark naked in a shower liner.”
    “We’ll use Uncle Edward’s rug. We can carry
it downstairs,” I suggested.
    “That rug is heavy. And it will be bulky. Not
to mention that it screams, ‘dead body’. Who’s going to think we’re
just carrying a rug? And what if they want to help us?”
    “The rug has to be cleaned anyway, so we’ll
kill two birds with one stone,” I countered.
    “I’d rather drop her over the balcony and
into the garden,” he insisted. “That way, I can pick her up in the
wheelbarrow and take her to the car.”
    “You will put plastic down if you’re taking
the station wagon, right? I really don’t want to have to clean the
trunk.”
    “Promise,” Ben agreed.
    “I have an old mattress pad that should do
the trick nicely for a makeshift shroud. What about using some of
my pantyhose to tie the padding around her? That should look a lot
less suspicious than my expensive fabric shower curtain.”
    “Fine. Give me a hand.”
    I got the shower curtain liner down from the
pole above the tub and spread it out on the floor.
    “Grab her feet,” Ben directed me, as he
tucked his hands under her arms. Once we positioned her on the
liner, we wrapped her up and repeated the process with the mattress
pad. By the time we were done, you would have never guessed there
was a body in the big bundle. That’s because Ben convinced me to
sacrifice some old pillows, which we tucked in to disguise the
shape of the body.
    “The pillows will cushion her fall,” he said,
as I handed him the severed leg portion of an old pair of
pantyhose. When he was done knotting it around the white batting,
he held out his hand for the other leg. “This stuff is great. Nice
and stretchy.”
    “Strong, too.”
    “It’d be good for tying up a bad guy.”
    “Yes, it would.”
    “Very handy.”
    “Forget it, Secret Agent Man. You’re not
getting the last word here.”
    “Depends on how resilient I am,” he grinned,
giving me a big wink.
    “No, it doesn’t,” I replied, wagging my
finger at Ben. ‘You’re not that good-looking that you can get away
with this. Besides, you know you want to stay on my good side if
you want any more of my cast-offs.”
    “Yoo-hoo!” It was Lorna, hailing me. I hopped
off the bed and grabbed the doorknob, giving it a fast turn with a
flick of my wrist, knowing that we did not want her to cross the
threshold in the Ephesus Suite. Uncle Edward may have been
experienced in the ugly side of intelligence games, but the sweet,
well-meaning, ever so slightly dippy Lorna was not. She had spent
decades as a research librarian at the ivy league college where
Uncle Edward taught and she was great in the stacks, skilled at
pulling up obscure historical tidbits, literary quotations, and
long-lost tomes. Lorna was a big Jane Austen fan and favored the
classic feminista movement populated with gutsy, but kind heroines
like Elizabeth Bennett. She was of an age where women sought to
propel themselves forth as augers of wisdom and all things
civilized. I wasn’t sure she could handle these all-too-mortal
remains wrapped in white. Too much like a real Shakespearean
tragedy.
    “Any luck?” I asked, stepping out of the
suite before she could burst in. I started walking her back to the
staircase, on the premise that I needed to get supplies from the
linen closet.
    “Puck was in the kitchen with Mr. Darcy,” she
announced. “As Edward remarked, all’s well that ends well. Time for
some bridge?”
    “Unfortunately, no. We’ll have to pass. We
have to get rooms ready and then we’re off to pick up a guest.” I
patted her shoulder to convey my disappointment. “Perhaps
tomorrow.”
    “Perhaps,” she agreed. “Might I ask you
something?”
    “Certainly.” I was