Playing Dead - Hardcover

Rothschild, Peggy

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 059343711X ISBN 13: 9780593437117

Verlag: Berkley, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

Molly Madison is back to solve another doggone difficult murder in her California community in this mystery from the author of A Deadly Bone to Pick.
 
Molly Madison has barely had a moment to catch her breath after moving to the sleepy beach town she now calls home. But as a former PI, she can’t help but notice the odd chemistry between members of Playtime Academy on the first day she and her loyal Saint Bernadoodle, Noodle, and golden retriever, Harlow, visit. When a trainer’s body is found on-site, Molly knows it’s her duty to put her ex-police skills to use. She can’t say no to temporarily taking in the deceased woman’s dog, either—not with those puppy dog eyes.

Relationships at the training facility are not as clean as the prize-winning agility runs, making it difficult for Molly to get a leash on potential suspects. And her personal life is just as messy—her boyfriend is hiding something, her agoraphobic neighbor needs help, and her number of four-legged friends keep growing as she agrees to dogsit a wriggly local French bulldog.
 
When Molly’s friend is arrested for the murder, she’s not sure who to believe anymore. Is the case as simple as the local cops make it seem, or is something more devious afoot?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

After losing their home during a California wildfire, Peggy Rothschild and her husband moved to the beach community of Los Osos along the central coast. When not at her desk or out walking, you can usually find her in the garden. Peggy is a member of Sisters in Crime National and Sisters in Crime Los Angeles.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

CHAPTER 1

Harlow hung her head out the back seat window, golden ears flapping and tongue lolling. The Saint Berdoodle nudged his way into the opening behind her. Drool broke free from the big dog's flews. Though I loved Noodle, three months living with him hadn't yet numbed me to his faucet-like slobbering. Hoping the stream of saliva hadn't hit anyone, I signaled and turned the 4Runner onto a two-lane, following the instructions provided by my GPS.

Ten minutes later, I turned onto another narrow road. A sturdy windbreak rose on my right along with a string of phone poles. To my left, avocado groves alternated with orange trees. The air smelled of eucalyptus, citrus, and hay. I noticed a flyer was stapled to each phone pole I passed. Slowing, I read the posted message: "$1,000 Reward for Information on Our Missing Golden, Freddy." Below the words, a photo of a smiling retriever along with a phone number. The flyer's edges were curled, and the picture looked sun-bleached. How long had Freddy been missing? Or had he come home and no one bothered to pull down the flyers? Hoping it was answer number two, I sped up again.

Near the road's end, the GPS voice said to turn right. I bumped onto the single dirt lane. Dust swirled around us, and I tapped the brake. "Heads back inside, guys." I powered up the windows and turned on the AC. Another half mile along the driveway, Noodle began to bark.

"Can you smell the other dogs already?" This would be our first time at Playtime Academy for Dogs' training facility. Members of my Tuesday agility class swore by this place and its staff. In addition to agility, they had scent work classes, rally, and barn hunt. Only Harlow did agility, but I was eager for Noodle to take part in his first barn hunt. Everything I read assured me the rats were kept safe. An animal-loving vegan in my agility class swore the rats looked like they were having a good time. Who was I to argue with that sort of testimony?

Noodle was a gentle giant. But having adopted him from a sociopath, I often worried how he'd interact with others. I'd spent the last three months introducing him to new people, animals, and experiences. So far, the Saint Berdoodle had done great.

I guided the 4Runner around a pothole. The slope turned steep. Slowing, I continued up the winding incline through the tawny, rolling hills. Though the day was warm, friends assured me it would feel like fall soon. I missed the autumn leaves of Massachusetts, but doubted I'd miss the snow and ice when winter rolled around.

A metal sign arching over the drive-and the GPS voice-told me I'd reached my destination. I pulled into the gravel parking lot on the right. About a dozen vehicles were already there. I chose a spot a few feet from a large SUV with an "I Heart Boxers" bumper sticker. When I cut the engine, Harlow woofed. "That's right, girl, we're here."

I reopened the windows and climbed out. It was at least ten degrees warmer here than on the coast. I pulled off my hoodie and told the dogs to stay. A group of about twenty people were gathered near a fenced field. Beyond that sat a second grassy enclosure plus two sizable dirt arenas. Wow. The arenas even had lights for night classes. Though I'd assumed the name "barn hunt" was figurative, there was also a big red barn.

The closest grass field was set up for standard agility competition practice, the unoccupied field beyond it for jumpers. An angular woman dressed in a khaki shirtdress and running shoes stood inside the first field, her Akita already off leash. Instead of being dialed in on her person, the dog looked bored. An Akita on the course meant I'd timed my arrival well; the small dogs had already run. A cowboy-looking guy clutching a clipboard approached the woman, but they were too far away for me to overhear any pointers.

Instead of checking in, I walked to the field and leaned against the railing. I scanned my surroundings while waiting for their run to begin. The buildings looked freshly painted, and even from here, I could see that the agility equipment was rubberized. Playtime obviously ran a quality operation. Movement pulled my attention back to the ring as the woman took off.

Arriving late had its downside. Though I'd spend less time waiting, I'd missed the course walk-through. I watched the woman and her Akita carefully. Tight right after the first jump, already heading to the tunnel. Straight run to the third obstacle. A sharp left to jump number one in the reverse direction followed by a softer turn toward the next jump. Then, the elevated dog walk and a quick reverse for the second tunnel. Straight run to the tire jump. After the A-frame, the course became less complicated. The Akita narrowly cleared the long jump and trotted to the finish. She and her handler completed a flawless, if moderately paced, run. The cowboy approached and spoke with her again. He placed a hand on her shoulder before she departed the ring, head down.

An auburn-haired woman entered along with a fawn-colored boxer. I wondered if hers was the SUV with the bumper sticker. She had a brief exchange with the cowboy before beginning her run. The boxer soared through the course, looking joyful. Much faster than the previous pair and another fault-free run.

Watching was fun, but my dogs needed to stretch their legs. I spied the crating area on the far side of the parking lot and hurried back to my vehicle. Leaving the dogs in the back seat a moment longer, I loaded their supplies onto my cart and rolled everything to an empty patch. I assembled the crates and draped a tarp over each to shade them from the sun. Returning to the 4Runner, I opened the rear door. Harlow pranced with excitement while Noodle drooled onto the beach towel protecting the back seat.

I hooked on leashes and let them explore the area on the way to their crates. Once there, I pulled the water bottle from my knapsack and filled their bowls. When they'd lapped enough, we wandered to a small group of live oaks and the dogs decided which ones were worthy of their use. "All set?" They wagged their tails. "Okay then."

After urging each into their crate, I walked to the check-in table located under a blue pop-up canopy. I smiled at the stunning woman staffing the table. "Hi. Checking in."

She looked up. Her dark hair was gathered into a big puff, and the orange company polo gave her skin a warm glow. "Name?"

"Molly Madison."

She ran her finger down a printout. "You're here with a golden retriever?"

"Yep."

"You'll be up after the standard poodle."

"Thanks. I also brought along my Saint Berdoodle for the barn hunt later today. Speed isn't his strong suit, but he's got an amazing nose."

She flashed her dimples. "See, this is how people should be. Recognize their dog's strengths and lean in to them. Way too many folks can't seem to see that." Holding out her hand, she said, "Simone Beaulieu. I teach scent work."

We shook. "Nice to meet you."

"You know, barn hunt courses are designed with eighteen- or nineteen-inch tunnels. A couple of our tunnels are thirty-six by eighteen. Will your dog be able to fit?"

"Yep. He squeezes through Harlow's agility tunnel just fine."

"Perfect. If he's got a good nose, you might also want to bring him to a scent class. We have one later in the week."

"I'll think about it."

"Saint Berdoodle, you say?"

"Yep."

"Smart to get a dog like that into nose work. The combination of those breeds . . . Have you done any nose work with him?"

"Yep. Haven't been able to fool him yet."

"For classes here, we work with the usual four target odors: birch, anise, clove, and cypress."

"I've just been hiding treats."

"That's a good start. Looking forward to seeing you later at barn hunt, Molly...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Berkley
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 059343711X
• ISBN 13: 9780593437117
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 304
• 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