Murder Most Howl: A Paws & Claws Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page B

attic, where most of the off-season furniture was stashed, I spied Ella Mae on thesecond-floor landing. She quickly turned tail and ran back. Char, bundled up for the weather, emerged from their room. She picked up Ella Mae, wrapped her in a shawl, and carried the tiny dog in her arms.
    “Ella Mae and I are going shopping!” She peered out the window on the landing. “Do you think the stores will be open?”
    “Probably. Most of the owners live in easy walking distance of their shops.”
    Char barely listened. She was busy making cooing sounds to Ella Mae. “I fell in love with this little girl the second I saw her.”
    “Has your husband warmed up to her yet?”
    “Geof! Honestly, he makes me so mad. He has chosen every dog we’ve ever had. They were all huge. The bigger they are, the more he likes them. I loved them all, of course, but this time, I’m making the choice, and he’ll just have to go along with it. See you later!” She walked carefully down the stairs.
    Trixie and I ventured up one more flight, where our apartment was on one end of the floor, and the storage attic was on the other. I unlocked the door, and Trixie zoomed inside as though she expected to find something fascinating. The open space was filled with out-of-season decorations and extra furniture. Oma, or maybe an employee, had been inconsistent about labeling boxes. It appeared that Oma kept everything. I guessed that was wise. One never knew what might be needed. I plowed through boxes until I found some full of candles and candleholders.
    I made several trips downstairs on the elevator. Oma clearly had anticipated this kind of problem in the past. She had amassed a collection of battery-operated and regular candles. There was even a lantern for each room. Two hours later, with the assistance of Mr. Huckle, candles, lanterns, and matches waited everywhere, and I was beat. No wonder Oma needed a vacation!
    Mr. Huckle, Shelley, and I warmed up leftover lasagna from the inn’s lunch menu for a quick bite before everyonearrived for the initial mystery meeting. Zelda and the cook joined us, along with Twinkletoes, Gingersnap, and Trixie.
    Twinkletoes feasted on something the cook called country chicken, which looked like chopped chicken and chicken livers to me. The dogs devoured the inn’s roast turkey with gravy.
    We ate by the fire in the dining area. Outside the huge windows, spotlights shone in the night, revealing snow that continued to float lazily down.
    The Sugar Maple Inn did not serve dinner to guests. Oma felt breakfast, lunch, and afternoon tea were sufficient, plus she wanted people to go out into Wagtail to the restaurants. Some of them, like The Blue Boar, were only steps from the inn. Consequently, the inn always grew quiet around the dinner hour.
    Val was the first to interrupt the tranquility. She stamped her feet outside on the porch, like an omen of what was to come, then burst through the front door, dragging a rolling cart behind her.
    She spied us at our table, shed her boots, and walked toward us in pink, purple, and turquoise striped socks. Her dark brown hair flew with static when she whipped off a turquoise knit hat. “What miserable timing. The snow couldn’t wait two days? Two lousy days?”
    “How are the sidewalks?” asked Shelley.
    Val nodded, unzipping her ski jacket. “Not bad. They scattered that paw-friendly stuff on them so the snow is melting pretty fast. I saw one of the golf carts depositing it on the streets, too.”
    “Want a bite to eat?” I asked. “We have plenty.”
    “No thanks, I’m good. I spent the afternoon cooking everything in the fridge so it wouldn’t spoil. Didn’t make much money today but I ate well. Lucky I have a gas grill.”
    Shelley offered to help Mr. Huckle clean up so Val, the cook, and I could focus on the mystery meeting.
    There really wasn’t much to do. I placed urns of hot coffee and tea on a long buffet table next to a crockpot of hot grog. The heady scent of