Dog Days Murderous Nights: Winnona Peaks Mysteries Book 1 (2 page)

Christy noticed that J.W. was a distinguished well-kept man and although his manners were gentle, the tailored pants and custom oxford spoke of money.  It didn’t add up that he came here as a simple dog show photographer.  She did notice that he had a great eye.  He let her borrow his camera to look through some recent work as he tossed a ball back and forth between Alfie and Snowy.

“Well, you have some truly beautiful dogs here, Mr. Augustine.” Christy said, waving his camera up to him in admiration.

“Oh, call me J.W.” He smiled.

“Okay.  Well, J.W., are you looking forward to getting home to these puppies in these photos?”  Christy asked looking out at Snowy as he raced for the ball.

“Oh, of course, but with you running this lovely hostel there are definitely parts of the scenery I will miss.” He winked.  Blushing, Christy handed him back the camera and got up to check the water in her vase of fresh cut flowers at the end of the porch.  Picking up a bowl she offered it to J.W. 

“Would you like some trail mix?”

With a frown and gentle wave of his hand, he said, “Oh, no. I’m allergic to peanuts.” Picking up the camera he continued, “Have you seen this shot I took of a certain beagle?  Gorgeous lines.  The light really made him pop.  It was one of those rare shots when the dogs and the camera really cooperate to make something special.” Finding the shot, he held the camera back up to Christy who had replaced the bowl by then and was sitting back down next to him to cradle the camera in her hands.

Raising her eyebrows she nodded her head and said, “I hadn’t seen this shot, but you are right! Beautiful dog. “

Leaning in and lowering his voice, he nonchalantly pointed to the shot. “Between you, me and a fence post, I think he’s sure to win.”

“Not if my Mable has anything to do with it!” The smell of vanilla and cocoa butter invaded the air as Mrs. Nori Deswood appeared in the shadow of the open door.  A rain cloud appeared and Christy got up to open the door for her guest.  Some people needed a teaspoon of TLC.  Mrs. Deswood needed a cup.  Christy kept smiling.  When you ran a bed and breakfast it was par for the course.

Chapter 3

Of course, Mrs. Nori Deswood would remember that day forever.  How could she forget one of the most miserable starts to a dog show in her entire life?  First of all, to keep herself looking so thin at age 50, she was on a strict breakfast diet.  She ate a piece of dark rye with a pad of Watersford butter, and half a grapefruit.  That was always accompanied by a sixteen-ounce glass of tomato juice finished with a stalk of celery for garnish.  If it turned into a Bloody Mary because of a bad showing at a dog show so be it.  That was her regimen at home.  She hated traveling in these infernal hostels with the thin walls and gatherings around the breakfast table.  She could never get what she needed for breakfast.

Yes, she remembered the first time she spoke with J.W. that morning.  She was about to walk out past him on the porch when she overheard him choosing that stupid beagle to be winner at the show.  That sealed it.  She refused to go outside to look at the scenery with the owner and act chummy on the porch.  How could she? She instead turned on her heels and sat in the antiquated lobby.  She didn’t need that kind of company.  The difficult part was deciding how she was going to spend the rest of her afternoon.  Dog shows had so much wasted time.  It was always hurry, hurry, hurry, groom, feed and transport.  Then it was just move around to groom, hurry up and wait.  All for a couple of laps around a blue arena and a shot at a year supply of dog food.

“Do all of these damn chairs have to squeak when you sit in them?” she mumbled to herself as she adjusted her weight and balanced Mable in her lap.  She so deplored the accommodations she had to endure in these back water little towns.  Her little Mable was worth the sacrifice but Nori was going to be infinitely happier after the show back at their summer on the 14th hole of the golf course. 

This perky hostel owner did not make it any more bearable.  It took all Nori could muster to control herself from giving J.W. Augustine the tongue lashing of his life.  Someday he was going to get what was coming to him. Just because he discovered his second wind career in deciding to dabble in judging and photography it didn’t give him the right to judge a true champion.  She knew what it took.  A champion is made or destroyed in the smallest detail.  That’s why an owner had to be willing to do whatever it took.  She just hoped J.W. never got in her way.  Right now he was just a minor annoyance.  The day was young.

Mable was sired by the royal line of Gundar’s Desire.  She was one of the last terriers to have traces back to the original AKC registration in 1887.  How could he know that?  He didn’t care.  J.W. was just unbelievable flirting with all of these younger women and chatting up the judges with his square chin and dimples.  Years of dog shows and fame in the AKC had worn Nori’s nerves to a thin place and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take this.  Her grandparents lasted until they were in their seventies but they had each other.  Nori’s husband, Henry, said he loved the dogs but it was soon apparent that he loved golf more. Every time the PGA came to town he even rented out their bedrooms.  They had such a big fight that she eventually gave up and slept in the kennel until the PGA left town. 

A slim 50 she was told early in her career that photographs showcasing the dogs around red and gold gave them an edge. She went out the next day and replaced her entire wardrobe with red and gold.  It worked. She won the national title after her sire Dom Perignon’s Star Child won the trophy.  The whirlwind photo shoots and magazine covers had died down quite a bit.  She clutched Mable as her last chance, and some days felt like she was starting all the way over.  Nori fancied herself a bit of a Jackie O’ in red and gold all those years but she could see the look in their eyes when her pale skin came across Mable’s hair.  She definitely knew that Henry was no J.F.K.  These kids didn’t know what it took to make a champion anyway.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything, Mrs. Deswood?”  It was the perky hotel owner.  What part of leave her alone didn’t she get.

“I noticed that you used those Nature’s Goodness organic doggie treats for Mable.  I had a few of them left from last weekend.  Would Mable need a treat?”

Looking down her nose, Nori snarled, “Mable is not a common American mutt.  She is a champion.  She does everything on a schedule and we strictly control her diet.  I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing.” 

Christy kept smiling. “We were just having such a good time on the porch I thought you might want to—”

“Championships are not won by lazing around a drafty farmhouse porch!  That J.W. is such a blow hard.” Nori stood up pushing the chair aside and strode past Christy out to J.W. who was still gently tossing the ball back and forth to Alfie and Snowy.  Mable barely gave them a nod, tucked safely in Nori’s arms.  “I will have you know that there is not a single dog in the Regional show that can hold a candle to my Mable!  Not that upstart Snoopy’s Tempting Delight! Not anybody’s dog!”

“Didn’t mean to offend you, Nori.  We were just talking about some photos,” J.W. said.

“Is there something you would like prepared for dinner?” Christy ventured.  “I have to change the recipe since J.W. is allergic to peanuts.”

Snorting in disgust, Nori turned to leave the porch.  “Most assuredly not.  It’s bad enough I couldn’t find proper accommodations in the first place.  I certainly don’t have to eat here among—“

“No need to speak like—“

“Like what! J.W. you are no saint.  Wouldn’t his young lady love to know what went through your head back when you started taking photographs of dogs.  You were certainly the talk of the circuit.”

“Now, Nori—“

Whipping around to Christy, Nori ignored J.W. and scolded her like she was a sloppy maid. “If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Roberts, Mable and I will be dining at another establishment and returning to retire early.  The only thing I require is that my room is cleaned and bed turned down properly. ” She suddenly turned sweet and smiled, kissing Mable on the nose.  “Aren’t we, my sweet Mable.  We both need our beauty rest.” With that she marched down the path to her car, placing Mable gently in a custom-made car carrier.  They all watched her drive away with a puff of dust rising behind her.

Pointing at Nori’s car, J.W. said, “That, my dear owner of this esteemed establishment, will be on the latest cover of Canine Philosophy,” J.W. said.  “I’m sorry for her tone.  I’m also afraid that her opinion of my exploits as a younger man were a bit exaggerated.  Ask Hailey.  She can attest that I am a fully recovered Casanova.  She has to turn down all those emails I get from the ladies at the dog shows.”  He tossed her a wink, bumping Christy slightly with his shoulder. Hailey rolled her eyes.  “In fact, my dear owner of this esteemed establishment, to make up for her rude behavior I would like you to be my personal guest at tomorrow’s dog show.  How’s that sound?”

Christy flushed and looked down at her skirt. Looking out at the dust Nori kicked into the air, smiling, she hoped that her cheeks didn’t betray her feelings.  She said, “Oh, Mrs. Deswood just seems distracted.  But it would be nice to see all those dogs.  Thank you. You know, it’s too bad Mrs. Deswood stays in such a bad mood.”

“With good reason,” Hailey piped up from her rocking chair.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s on the brink of losing her kennel.  If she doesn’t win this regional title, there’s rumors she’s going to have to toss in the towel.”  With that Hailey went back to her laptop to work on a project for J.W., and he tossed the ball for Alfie one more time.

Chapter 4

J.W. wasn’t the first thing on Gregory Binks’ mind when he stepped foot on the porch the day before.  He was just wondering if Christy would recognize him after all these years.  They’d gone to school together way back then.  He still remembered Christy Roberts stopping to help that dorky freshman the first day of school when they dumped their books. Her smile still lit up the sky. Seeing her there reminded him why after working homicide all those years he needed a change.  The Simon Pecarella case beat the stuffing out of him.  It was so gruesome.  There were so many hours wasted.  It still made his head spin to think they spent all that time, just to have the DA let him go on a technicality. 

When the captain came in to see Gregory, he knew it was better to hang up his spurs than have Internal Affairs do it for him.  He hadn’t crossed the line.  He just got caught in the cross hairs of a broken system.  He went into being a cop because the good guys were supposed to win and had to get out before the system broke him for good.

Gregory Binks spent quite a few hours in the gym trying to work off the stress of all the weirdos doing bad things on any given day.  He preferred a navy polo and khakis, and without a woman in his life he pretty much wore the same thing every day.  Sometimes he switched it up a bit and threw in an olive green polo.  A hint of dime store cologne was on his neck.  It was the same stuff his Dad used and it suited him just fine after a nice shave.  He wondered why he cared when his jet black hair ended up a five o’clock shadow by noon every day.  It’d been hard to give up the smoking so he chewed gum like a demon and his jaw muscles rivaled his biceps.

Watching the old bat waddle past him with her little dog Pookums made him shake his head.  From the way Christy was holding the camera and laughing at the old guy he thought that maybe they were a thing.  That’s what he remembered thinking.  He also remembered how her smile lit up the sky when she did actually recognize him and stood up to greet everyone.  Maybe they weren’t.  Maybe it’s just that Christy was always magical in the way she walked.  He’d have to play it cool.  He hoped they weren’t a couple.

“Gregory, hi!  It’s been a long time.

He couldn’t help but smile.  “Hi, Christy.”

“This is your wife?” Christy asked.  Confused, Gregory looked beside him to see a slim fierce-looking woman with brown hair chopped to the shoulders for utility.  She wore what looked like a safari vest which he noticed was really just an oversized fishing vest stuffed with camera equipment.  The vest, however, couldn’t cover up that she was light on the eyes and the yellow t-shirt and jeans led gracefully to hiking boots.  Seeing Christy the woman laughed, gently, easing the fierce look and melting into a civilized person, “Oh, no.  I guess I’d have to know him first. No, I’m Diana Hansel.”

Gregory thought it was great how Christy covered the awkward pause by rushing to check them in, waving them inside to the lobby desk.  Maybe the grey-haired guy was a thing.  He was playing with her dogs and it looked like it was a pretty permanent babysitting gig at the moment. The old guy shrugged when Christy asked if he could still watch them while Gregory and Diana checked in.

He was really impressed with what Christy had done with her grandparents’ bed and breakfast.  Gregory remembered helping out her grandfather when he got back from his tour in Desert Storm and Grandpa Roberts wanted to expand the bed and breakfast. He designed a larger back porch that doubled as a dining area with mood lighting for spring and summer nights.  Gregory was there for the heavy lifting.

“You’ll be in the Apple Creek room down the hall and to the right,” Christy said, handing Diana the key from her sturdy turn-of-the-century desk.  A simple grid with whimsical hooks hung on the wall behind the desk. The paperwork for each guest sat in a tidy pile under a paperweight that said, “World’s Greatest Grandma,” hand-painted from Christy’s childhood.

Christy said to Gregory, “You’ll be staying in the Pear Mountain room down the hall and two doors down on the left.  We have bathrooms adjacent the hall and off of the kitchen.  Remember to kind of limit your showers to fifteen minutes so the other guests can have their fair share.  Oh! Dinner will be tonight at 6:00 and in the mornings a continental breakfast is served on the veranda from 7:30 to 10:00.  Since it’s the weekend a more formal brunch will start between 11:00 and 1:00.  It’s really your holiday so if you have other plans, just let me know so I know how many to prepare for.  Oh! Also, if you have any allergies, please let me know. I was going to make Pad Thai with Peanut sauce tonight but I just found out that J.W. is allergic to peanuts. So if you have any special requests like that, feel free to let me know.”