June 30, 2017

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Sherlock Herms in…Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

Sherlock Herms in…Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Feral Informants.

Mom sighed as she disconnected her phone. “This ghost hunting career of yours has turned dangerous,” she said to me. “And I’m mad at myself that I’ve been too distracted setting up this bed and breakfast to notice what’s been happening right under my roof.”

“I’m getting out of the purranormal biz. At least I hope to,” I reassured as I led her downstairs and out the front door where Dori sat on the porch steps. “What did you find?”

Dori swiped a paw across her weepy eyes. “Nacho led me to Violet’s grave. He said Dottie is buried there, too.”

Mom abruptly went back inside. I wondered if she was nervous about what I’d asked her to do and needed to pee, or was backing out of our plan to trap Dottie’s killer in a confession. But then she returned with scissors and a large shopping tote that smelled like bread. As she snipped several yellow Julia Child roses from the nearby bushes she said, “Crawl inside the tote, under the bread loaves. Patty Kiss claims to be allergic to cats. She won’t allow me inside her home if she sees you.”

I pushed aside the crusty loaves to settle at the bottom of the tote. Dori climbed in beside me. As Mom carried us to the house next door, I whispered the plan to Dori. She seemed uncharacteristically subdued. “Hoomons can be so dissy-pointing.” I couldn’t agree more.

I heard Mom whisper, “It’s show time!” and ring the doorbell. A moment passed before the door opened and I heard Patty Kiss say to Mom, “What a surprise.”

“I was on my way home from the store,” Mom told her, “but when I saw how pretty my roses were, I cut a few for your home.”

“Thank you,” Patty said. “My grandmother planted those bushes years ago. But she never shared them with me.”

“Cuz yoo is a bad lady,” Dori whispered inside the tote, and I told her to Shhh. Read More

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