Strange Outfit: An Avery Barks Dog Mystery (Avery Barks Dog Mysteries Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

cuddled up with Chevy and Princess.  Bullfrog was already fast asleep on his dog bed.  Ben’s couch was so soft and comfortable it started to make me sleepy. I began to drift off to sleep when it started to rain outside.  I loved everything about nature and the sound of rain on the rooftop was soothing.
    “The sound of the rain was pitter pat.”  The phrase from the treasure poem floated through my mind.  “The sound of the rain was pitter pat,” kind of a half dream and half thought again. “The sound. Pitter pat.“
    I jolted awake and listened to the sound of the rain hitting the rooftop.  Pitter patter.  Pitter patter. 
    I hurried outside and listened to the rain from the front door steps.  The dogs watched me from the comfort of the couch. The rain sounded softly on the leaves.  It definitely was not a pitter patter like the sound of rain landing on a roof. 
    Pitter Pat, Does that mean something?  Did he bury it next to a roofed building? 
    I stopped myself. 
    “Oh geez, now I’m even thinking about this treasure note! “ I laughed out loud to the dark sky.
    My clothes were getting wet from standing out in the rain, so I turned and went back in. I laid down on the couch, and the three dogs and I fell into a deep sleep to the sounds of rain going pitter patter. 
     
    =+=+=+
     
    The next morning, I opened my eyes and saw three dogs staring at my face, from three inches away.  It might have been the smell of dog breath that actually woke me up. I rolled off the couch and started a big furry hugging party.  This was a great job already!  I didn’t even know how much I was getting paid, but this was something I would have done for free. 
    I decided to do some quick research and called the California newspaper that published this strange poem.  I hoped they were still in business after all these years.
    It took some time, but I found the number and dialed long distance.  The newspaper staff transferred me to several people, but finally I talked to the original author of the original article, Mr. Jay McNeily.  In his soft monotone voice, he explained that back when he was a young journalist with the paper, he received a letter about some buried treasure.  At the time, he was just young enough and gullible enough to go ahead to write a story and print it.  The idea of buried treasure caused some temporary excitement, but most folks considered it a hoax after nothing had been discovered for ten years or so.
    “What do you think about this treasure poem? Is this for real?” I asked.
    “I always thought it was real,” he answered.  “No one really knows for sure I guess.  One thing I do know, there are some folks who have spent years looking all over the country for the treasure.”
    “How much is it worth?” I was intrigued.
    “No one knows.”
    “So they could have been running around looking for two dollars and ninety-nine cents?”
    “Yeah maybe, or it could be two million dollars and ninety-nine cents,” he replied.
    “Wow!  I guess it’s all in how you look at it.  Well, thanks so much for all your help, Mr. McNeily.” I hung up the phone.
    Now that would be a motive for murder .
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 8
    The rain continued to come down and both my dog and I started to get a little stir crazy from being indoors.  Chevy was a high energy dog and needed his exercise, and it gave me a good reason to face a slight bit of fear, and investigate the light that Jamie and I saw through the woods the night before.  After I locked the door behind us, we set out to explore the ridgeline where the light had appeared.  I put on my rain jacket as we walked and slipped the straps of my daypack over my shoulder. I slipped my camping knife in my pocket, just in case.
    I jogged across the back yard and up the path, avoiding the ever present holes along the way.  My plan was to get up to the ridge and take a quick look, then head back to the house.  I hoped Bullfrog would bark loud