Furballs and Fatalities: Heywood Hounds Cozy Mysteries, #3

CHAPTER 1

The holidays had passed, and I was sick and tired of being cold. As I turned up the heat in my nail salon, File It Away, I glanced out to see it was snowing yet again. Sure, Arizona had been in a drought, but enough was enough. At least I’d gotten to spend three weeks with my son, Jacob, who had come home from college. We’d watched all our favorite Christmas movies, had a big Christmas dinner with my father and brother, and Trevor also joined us. It had been a beautiful holiday season, but everyone was back to their normal schedules now.

Except my dog.

Daisy, you’re going to have to go outside at some point, I said as she paced the length of the salon.

I don’t like my feet wet, and I don’t like being cold, she muttered.

Considering she hadn’t been out since the prior afternoon, I imagined her bladder was bursting at the seams. I worried about an infection. Well, it’s snowing again, so you better get out there sooner rather than later because the more snow there is, the wetter your feet are going to be and the colder you’ll get.

She grumbled something while I pulled out my phone and glanced at my scheduling app. I swore when I realized my first appointment, Erika, was late. As one of my best customers, I could always count on her being on time. She worked as a checker at Hammer and Nail Hardware and absolutely loved to have her nails in top shape, mainly because she had a TikTok channel where she shared beauty secrets and makeup tutorials. According to Erika, one can’t show someone how to apply eyeshadow with ugly, unkempt nails.

Twenty minutes passed, and so did my irritation. Worry took its place. It was highly unlike her to not show. Usually, if she was running even a few minutes late, she texted. I tapped my fingers against the counter while Daisy continued to pace.

I picked up my phone and sent her a quick text.

Everything okay? You’re late for your nail appointment.

I stared at the screen and waited for a reply. When there wasn’t one, my concern only grew. It was even stranger for her not to answer my text. Erika was in her twenties and her phone was never more than a few inches away from her.

Okay! Okay! Daisy yelled, running for the door. I can’t hold it anymore!

Finally, I whispered.

After grabbing the leash and my coat, I left a note taped to the door and Daisy and I walked up Comfort Road a few blocks. I wasn’t happy about being out in the cold, either, but I kept my thoughts to myself. Maybe I could teach her to use the toilet?

There was a bunny here, Daisy said while sniffing the base of a tree.

Do you need to go to the bathroom again? I huffed, irritated with her exploration and worried Erika would show and I wouldn’t be there.

No. I’m done.

Let’s head back to the store.

When we arrived, Trevor was standing at the door dressed in his sheriff’s parka, a baseball hat and gloves.

Hey, I greeted him. What are you doing here?

Trevor! Hi, Trevor! Daisy exclaimed, her tail swishing.

The grimace never left his face, but it would have if he could actually hear my talking dog. She was excited to see him despite him ignoring her. I need you to come with me, he demanded.

What’s going on? I asked. After unlocking the door, we both stepped inside and I placed my phone on the counter then shucked my coat. You seem like someone gave you decaffeinated coffee this morning.

A small smile turned his lips and he shook his head. No, something far worse, although that would’ve been terrible. There’s been a murder.

Oh, no, I sighed while dread curled my stomach. Who is it?

Molly Griffin.

I don’t know her, I said, furrowing my brow. Relief that I wasn’t acquainted with the victim washed over me, followed quickly by guilt. I shouldn’t be happy about the death, but instead, upset that someone had died.

Well, Erika Roscoe does, and she’s down at the station, Trevor growled.

Erika? I shrieked. She’s supposed to be here!

She’s not going to be getting her nails done anytime soon, he replied. She says you’re the only one she’ll talk to about her friend’s death, so like I said, I need you to come with me.

Why in the world did Erika want to speak with me about a murder?

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Absolutely not. I’ve got a couple of appointments today. I don’t see why Erika needs to talk to me.

Gina

No, Trevor! I yelled. "I’m not getting involved in any more murders! Erika can talk to you. You’re the cop, not me. It’s your dang job!"

He sighed, removed his hat, and ran a hand through his blond hair.

You need a haircut, I said.

I’m well aware, he muttered. "Look, you coming in and talking with Erika would help me, Gina. I’ve got a dead body at the hardware store and Erika isn’t talking. Can you please just see what she has to say? As a personal favor to me?"

I stared at him a long moment while working my jaw. I was done with murderers, investigations, and all the stress that went along with these. A quiet life was what I wanted, free of all that nonsense.

Please? he begged. It won’t take much time.

With a curse, I turned and stomped over to the thermostat and lowered the heat, then grabbed my coat once again. Daisy has to come with me, I grumbled. And she’s not waiting in the car. It’s too cold.

That’s fine, Trevor replied.

And I’m not talking to Sheriff Mallory, I spat. Not one dang word, Trevor.

She’s on vacation, he said. There’s no chance you’ll see her.

I nodded, my mood lifting a bit. Any day I didn’t have to talk to Mallory was a good one. After grabbing my phone from the counter, I texted my two appointments. I notified them they’d have to come in an hour later, and I hoped the arrangement would work for them. Then I leashed Daisy. Let’s go.

Thanks, Gina, Trevor said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I really appreciate your help.

Yay! We get to ride with Trevor! Daisy shouted, her tail wagging a million miles per hour. I love Trevor!

Honestly, I hadn’t heard Daisy meet one person that she didn’t like. My dog was over-friendly, enthusiastic, and assumed everyone felt the same as her.

After locking up the store, I followed him to his truck. The snow was still falling and I cursed every beautiful flake while Trevor opened the door for me. Daisy jumped in and I followed. My teeth began to chatter as he hurried around to the driver’s side. When he fired up the engine, the cool air blasting through the vents thankfully turned warm within seconds.

We drove to the sheriff’s station in silence while I kept fuming because I’d agreed to talk to Erika. I had no idea who this Molly person was, but if she’d been found dead at Hammer and Nail Hardware, perhaps Erika had something to do with it since she was a checker there. I just wanted to remain blissfully unaware of the details, but it was too late now.

I was such a sucker.

Trevor pulled behind the Sheriff’s Department, and I realized we were going in through the employee doors. Having never entered that way, my curiosity was piqued. I was going to see something new—the inner workings of the department. Even during my time as a resident when I’d been accused of killing my deadbeat ex-husband I hadn’t been privy to this section.

Daisy and I followed Trevor inside through a locker room which held ten gray lockers, a couple of matching benches and a mirror. Once he opened the door leading into the main station, the odor of cleaning products and vomit greeted us along with the drab gray walls and floors. Placing my hand over my mouth, I’d forgotten just how depressing the station was. A splash of red or orange would really liven it up.

Yuck, Daisy said. What’s that smell? It’s burning my super sniffer!

Mine too, I muttered.

What? Trevor asked.

Nothing. Why does it smell like barf in here?

A couple drunks were brought in last night, Trevor replied. They had more than their fair share. It’s been cleaned up, but sometimes the smell hangs around for a bit.

Maybe the sheriff’s station didn’t need to be livened up. It was probably best it wasn’t since they were bringing in people already in different states of agitation.

He led us down the hallway and stopped at a room with a closed door, then turned to me. She’s in here. You can find out whatever she knows and then report back to me.

Aren’t you being a bit bossy? Daisy asked. Gina doesn’t like being told what to do.

My dog wasn’t wrong. I narrowed my gaze. Maybe a please would be nice, deputy. Quit ordering me around. I don’t work for you, and I’m only here because you asked quite nicely earlier.

Sorry, he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. Just stressed out about this. Please let me know what she says about her friend, okay?

Don’t you have a camera or something in there? I asked. Record it, so I don’t have to try to remember everything.

Yeah, we’ll record it, but sometimes the camera doesn’t pick up all that’s said.

I glanced down at Daisy, not sure what to do with her.

I want to go in! Daisy yelled. I promise I’ll be a good girl! Please don’t leave me out here with the pukers!

Daisy’s going in with me, I stated. Hopefully, I left him no choice. He stared at me a long moment. Erika loves Daisy, I continued. She’ll bring her comfort and maybe if she’s relaxed, she’ll talk more.

Trevor hesitated for another moment, then nodded. I’ll see you in a bit.

As he hurried down the hallway, I opened the door. Erika sat at the gray table. Black mascara streaks lined her face. Her usually perfect black hair hung in oily, tangled strands around her shoulders. The gray walls and her black shirt paled her cheeks, making her look sickly. At least she wasn’t cuffed.

Daisy! she yelled. I let go of the leash and Daisy ran over to her.

Erika! Pet me, Erika! Daisy demanded. The woman obliged.

With a long sigh, I slipped out of my coat, laid it over the back of the chair, and sat down across from her. I glanced up at the corner of the room and located the camera. Hopefully, the dang thing was working. Then, I waited while she whispered sweet nothings to Daisy. It had been smart to bring the canine in with me. Erika smiled and the stress seemed to seep out of her as her shoulder sagged. Dogs—the best therapists around.

Erika’s black shirt quickly became coated with Daisy’s white hair. How the dang dog wasn’t bald, I had no idea.

So, what happened with your friend, Molly? I asked.

Her smile faded as she sat upright and turned toward me. Tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head as Daisy trotted back to my side of the table and lay down over my feet. I hoped no one had lost their stomach contents in this room, or I’d probably have to bathe her when I got home—a task both of us detested.

Erika? I said, my voice softer this time. What happened with Molly?

She swiped at her cheeks. Well, first of all, she’s not my friend, Gina. I hated her.

CHAPTER 2

Can you tell me about her? I asked, now confused. Trevor had referred to Molly as Erika’s friend, but it seemed that wasn’t the case… according to Erika.

Molly was Lewis’ wife, she sniffed. He owns the hardware store. They bought it a few years ago. Remember?

I was in and out of the building multiple times a week. Being a single mom, I’d become quite proficient in household repairs throughout the years. Besides that, the hardware store had some really cute dog toys. I never paid much attention to who the owner was, though.

Okay, so Molly wasn’t your friend, but the owner’s wife. I’m still not sure why you’re sitting in an interrogation room at the sheriff’s department and you won’t talk to Deputy Hutchison.

Erika sighed and glanced up at the ceiling as if to