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

in the middle of grabbing
rolls of toilet paper, a box of tissues, and clean towels as she
spoke.
    “Did that young girl find her friend?”
    “Excuse me?” I gave Lorna my full attention.
Her pale blue eyes seemed worried.
    “She asked if she could wait for her friend
in the library. I couldn’t find you anywhere, Bea. I hope that was
alright.” Our mysterious visitor was let into the house by Uncle
Edward’s friend. Go figure. One mystery down. At least now we knew
that the poor girl didn’t get dragged to the Bard Bed &
Breakfast, kicking and screaming. She came here to meet Mr.
Williams.
    “Just fine,” I assured the elderly woman.
“Thank you for doing that. What time did she arrive?”
    “Oh, I was up at five-thirty, having coffee
in the kitchen. She knocked on the back door. She seemed peckish,
so I fetched her a cup of coffee and a muffin. I hope you don’t
think I was overstepping my bounds.”
    “Heavens, no. I’m glad you were kind to her.”
It was true. There was a part of me that was relieved to know
someone had offered that poor girl something other than that fatal
injection into her veins in her final hour of life. But that still
left us with the mystery of who killed her and why, and there was
still a murderer on the premises, unless he fled. Or she died of an
overdose.
    “I just didn’t want you to think I was trying
to interfere, dear.”
    “Mrs. Gillman, you feel free to do what seems
the right thing to do while you’re here.” I snaked around her, my
arms full of bathroom supplies, giving her a friendly smile that
was returned. My answer seemed to satisfy her, and she nodded
before going down the stairs.
    Ben was on his hands and knees, securing the
ropes around the padded lump when I opened the door of the suite. I
tossed the items onto the bed, not caring that two of the rolls of
toilet paper bounced off and scooted across the bedroom floor. I
had much bigger fish to fry, and that pan was going to get really
hot before I was done.
    “What time did you say Philippe Graphon is
getting here?” I asked curtly.
    “I didn’t say.”
    “And why is that?” With a big glare, I waited
for the answer I knew was coming.
    “I didn’t think it was necessary.”
    “Because he’s already here,” I said. “And
he’s been here since when?”
    “Last night,” Ben admitted, with a slightly
defensive air.
    “In what room?” With my arms folded across my
chest, towering over the man trying to busy himself with a fancy
knot, I presided over the inquisition.
    “Antium.”
    “Next door to this room,” I pointed out,
“where the dead body surfaced. By the way, Lorna let the girl into
the library this morning to wait for her friend.”
    “Hmm....” When Ben sighs like that, it
usually means he’s figured something out. Getting him to share it,
though, is like pulling teeth. That’s okay. I went to the Street
Smarts School of Dentistry. No anesthesia. No fancy equipment. Yank
and you’re done.
    “Hmm, what?” I demanded.
    “Nothing. Just something.”
    “What kind of something?” I thought for a
moment. Lorna let the girl in to meet her friend. If Philippe was
here last night, maybe this wasn’t about Mr. Williams at all. “That
low-life, rat-faced, dung-loving son of a....”
    “We can’t be sure. We still have to think
about Mr. Williams.”
    “What if we were right about the tattoos, but
wrong about the recipient?” said I, suddenly all too aware of the
fact that Philippe Grapon had a dangerous, predatory side, when he
wasn’t trying to get into the closest pair of panties. “What if she
was delivering the bona fides to that creep and once he got them,
he killed her?”
    “That would mean that whatever she gave him
was important enough to kill her.”
    “Or,” I told him, climbing back onto the bed
as I considered the possibilities, “what if he killed her because
he was posing as Mr. Williams?”
    “Oh, criminy!” Ben bellowed at me, eyes
glaring, fire flaring