To Fetch a Felon (A Chatty Corgi Mystery, Band 1) - Softcover

Hawkins, Jennifer

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593197089 ISBN 13: 9780593197080

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2020

Inhaltsangabe

Emma Reed and her beloved Corgi move from London to Cornwall with the dream of opening a tea shop—but first they’ll have to collar a criminal in the first book in a charming new series.
 
Emma leaves London and her life in high finance behind her and moves to an idyllic village in Cornwall, with its cobblestone streets and twisting byways. She plans to open a village tea shop and bake the recipes handed down to her from her beloved grandmother, and of course there’ll be plenty of space for her talking corgi, Oliver, to explore. Yes...talking. Emma has always been able to understand Oliver, even though no one else can.

As soon as Emma arrives in the village she discovers that the curmudgeonly owner of the building she wants to rent for her shop hates dogs and gets off on the wrong foot with Oliver. Although some might turn tail and run, Emma is determined to win her over. But when she delivers some of her homemade scones as a peace offering, she finds the woman dead. Together, Emma and Oliver will need to unleash their detective skills to catch a killer.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jennifer Hawkins is a Michigan-based author of cozy mysteries. She's also a mom, binge reader, corgi enthusiast, and a lover of All Things British. For tea, she prefers a second flush Darjeeling with milk. She also makes a killer (so to speak) lemon curd.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

 

"You, there!" The shout exploded in Emma's ear.

 

"Gah!" Emma jumped half out of her skin. Beside her, Oliver barked and jumped as high as his stubby legs allowed.

 

A woman popped up from behind the ancient garden wall along the side of the old high street and pointed her muddy trowel directly under Emma's nose.

 

"That dog must be on a lead!"

 

Oliver, the dog in question-specifically the brown and white Pembroke Welsh Corgi in question-barked again.

 

"I told you, Emma!" he said. "I said somebody was there!"

 

He also wagged his curling tail and opened his mouth in the way that made corgis appear to be laughing and always charmed the onlooker.

 

Well, usually charmed the onlooker. As it was, the gardening woman glowered at Oliver like he'd just dragged something unmentionable across her carpets. She had a round face, a stout build, and a mop of gray curls held back in a blue bandana. She wore a faded blue blouse with the sleeves rolled up and a flowered apron. Taken all together, she looked like someone who should be baking ginger biscuits for her beloved grandchildren.

 

At least, she would have, if she didn't also look like she'd be willing to lace those biscuits with a dose of arsenic.

 

"You need to be careful with this one," Oliver went on. "She's not happy. And she's rude."

 

Fortunately, the only person who understood Oliver when he spoke was Emma herself. This woman, whoever she was, would probably not appreciate his current line of commentary.

 

"Ah, um, hello!" Emma plastered a polite-apology smile on her face. She also reached down and patted Oliver's head. "Not now, please," she whispered.

 

Now was not a good time for a person who might become a neighbor to start noticing Emma was . . . quirky. That being the polite term for a person who heard her dog-not to put too fine a point on it-talk.

 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," Emma added to the gardener. "You startled us a little."

 

The gardener sniffed. It was a sharp, eloquent sound, and it probably had the capacity to wilt the resolve of grown men. After twenty-five years in London's financial sector, however, Emma was not intimidated. At least, not very.

 

Oliver growled uneasily. "We shouldn't stay here."

 

"Quiet, Oliver." Emma gave his head a final rub. "Good boy," she added for affect.

 

"And you're right, of course," Emma said to the gardener, a little more loudly than she needed to. "He should be on his lead, and I do have it here-" She pulled the bright red lead from her overstuffed handbag.

 

"But you just thought you'd let him race about and get into people's gardens to destroy years of hard work!"

 

Emma took a deep breath and concentrated on keeping her tone level. "I understand your concern, but he's really extremely well-behaved . . ."

 

"He's a public menace! And plainly takes after his owner," sneered the woman. "Like every other day-tripper who comes traipsing through here!" She waved her trowel up the curving high street toward the village center, scattering clods of soil in all directions.

 

"Oh, I'm not a day-tripper, I'm moving to Trevena." Emma bit her tongue, because she had the sudden feeling now was not the best time for this woman to find that out either. "I'm opening a tea shop," she added.

 

From the woman's look of terror, Emma might have just as well have added, "And I plan to make meat pies of the neighbors."

 

"A tea shop!" she cried. "Well, we'll see about that." She leaned forward over the wall. "You're one of Maggie Trenwith's Londoners, aren't you?"

 

Emma felt her spine stiffen. As a matter of fact, Maggie Trenwith was the estate agent she'd been working with, but what did that have to do with anything? Who, exactly, did this woman think she was? Emma had dreamed of owning her own tea shop for years. Trevena, the site of her summer holidays as a child, had seemed the perfect choice to make that dream come true.

 

She hadn't entirely reckoned on the idyllic Cornish village having its own local busybody.

 

Emma opened her mouth, but the woman made a slashing gesture with her trowel. "Don't bother. I can spot one of you a mile way. Maggie Trenwith will rent to anybody. Probably didn't even get proper references. But you'll see I'm not so easily fooled." She brandished the trowel again. "I've got my eye on you now, and that dog. You make sure he stays off my property, or I'll call the constable on you both!"

 

Of course, that was the moment Oliver decided to charge the garden wall.

 

2

 

Humans, at times, could be quite bewildering.

 

Take this strange lady human who smelled of earth and roses, fertilizer and all sorts of plants Oliver couldn't name. What in the world was she so angry about? They were in the middle of an excellent place. If she and Emma had been sensible creatures, they would have been playing together by now. But all she did was shout and wave her arms and that digging thing.

 

Humans wasted so much time. The air was full of green, growing and salty smells-even more smells than Hyde Park on a Sunday-and they weren't paying attention to any of them. There were dog smells as well, lots and lots of friendly dog smells, new and old, all up and down this wall. Every part of him wanted to follow the trail and investigate all its layers.

 

Of course, being a corgi, Oliver was a dog of noble warrior heritage. His foredogs had sailed with the Vikings, and his royal brothers guarded the Queen's Majesty every day, just like he guarded his best human, Emma.

 

So, obviously, Oliver was not about to leave Emma's side at this crucial moment. In fact, his first instinct was to make it clear to the angry digging lady that it was not acceptable to shout at Emma.

 

But noble warrior corgis absolutely never barked or growled or bared their teeth when their special human needed them to keep quiet. They certainly did not run under closed gates, even if they could. Noble corgis stayed at their posts, no matter what, and . . .

 

What's that? A new smell on the breeze, a wild, bitter, copper-tinged smell, a . . .

 

"Better watch your step there, mate."

 

A fox.

 

Oliver dropped his muzzle and pricked up his ears. There was a hole in the stone wall, low down near the walk. The fox crouched on the other side, grinning.

 

Fox! Instinct shouted. Duty pressed it back down. Stay!

 

"This one, she really don't like your sort," said the fox.

 

A noble warrior corgi stays at his post. A corgi is strong and disciplined. A corgi is . . .

 

"Fox!"

 

Oliver charged, barking. Shouty Lady screeched, but that wasn't important. Now Emma was the one shouting. Oliver still couldn't stop. His paws were moving faster than his brain.

 

Fox!

 

He dove through the hole-at least, he tried. His nose made it, and the hole smelled of lots and lots of fox, and if he could just dig a little more room, he'd be on the other side and then and then . . .

 

"Oliver! No!"

 

But just a little farther . . .

 

"You get that dog out of here!" screamed the shouty lady. Emma grabbed his scruff and dragged him backward as he paddled the air frantically.

 

"But I can get him! I can!" Oliver barked. "Fox! Fox!"

 

"Oliver!" shouted...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2020
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593197089
• ISBN 13: 9780593197080
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 336
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: BERKLEY; https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY; ; Unit 2 Limavady Business Park; Limavady; County Londonderry; BT49 0HR; Vereinigtes Königreich
• Verantwortliche Person: preigu; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; 49078; Deutschland