Mint Juleps and Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

place over the scratch with her index finger. That’s when she noticed the familiar spicy scent. Dad had worn it. Keith wore it. Half the men in America had splashed it on at one time or another, and their commercials were making a comeback, but why was it in her house now? Keith, you know where I am, don’t you?
    A noise came from the kitchen. She drew her fists to her chest as if she were ready to take on the intruder, but realization struck just as quickly. The icemaker. Brooke dropped her hands. Doing battle with the icemaker would be overkill, but it was still clear that someone had been in the house and that was unsettling.
    She’d rather look overcautious than stupid, so she called the police. The dispatcher told her to wait on the front porch. She prayed the same deputy wouldn’t show up. It was getting embarrassing. This would be the third time in as many weeks, but even changing the locks hadn’t made a difference.
    “Where’s my sweet girl dog?” Brooke wasn’t about to leave Stitches inside while she waited out front.
    When Stitches still didn’t appear, Brooke propped the front door open and went down the hall to her bedroom to look for the dog. But after searching every room, there was no sign of Stitches, and that just didn’t make sense.
    She ran out the French doors, searching the backyard, hoping for a spot of white amid the colorful landscaping.
    “Stitches, are you out here, girl?” She clapped her hands and called out again. It was highly unlikely she would have left Stitches out all day in this kind of heat. Helplessness consumed her.
    Where was that cardinal that usually darted through the trees and tangled shrubs? Not seeing the lucky bird only heightened her apprehension.
    A high-pitched yelp came from the far side of the deck.
    Brooke took off in that direction. She cleared the three steps to the gazebo in one long leap toward the hot tub. Sickness rolled in her stomach when she spotted the hot tub cover folded back.
    Stitches’s tiny eyes bulged and her black nose stretched just above the water in a desperate doggy paddle in the center of the hot tub. Brooke plunged across the side into the bubbling water to scoop Stitches to safety.
    “It’s okay. I’m here.” Brooke climbed out of the water and grabbed a towel from the trunk next to the hot tub.
    Stitches continued paddling the air, still in a panic for survival.
    She wrapped Stitches in a terry-cloth cocoon and pulled her close. They both trembled. The tiny dog’s heart pounded like a hummingbird on a caffeine overload.
    “Thank god, you’re all right.” Brooke rocked Stitches as water dripped from her soaked jacket to the deck. She grabbed another towel and headed inside. She raced through the French doors to the kitchen, then dropped the towel and stood on it, still dripping, as she grabbed the magnet from the side of the refrigerator. She dialed the veterinarian’s office. Even though she and Stitches had only been there once, they agreed to wait for her when they heard what had happened.
    Soaking wet, Brooke stripped down to her panties right there in the kitchen before she remembered the front door was propped open. She picked Stitches back up and sprinted across the living room down the hall to quickly change into dry clothes.
    Stitches lay trembling on the bed where Brooke had set her down. She dressed as fast as she could, then swept the scared dog back into her arms.
    As she stepped out on the front porch, the sheriff’s car pulled into the driveway. That same deputy, the one who talked to her like she was a nut job and said that until she came along this had been a quiet neighborhood, stepped out of the car.
    She didn’t break stride as she headed to her car.
    The deputy walked toward her like he was in no hurry at all. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
    She swept past him. “I told you my ex-husband was up to no good. He almost drowned Stitches.”
    He followed her to the car. “Slow down. What happened?”
    “I