Sniffing Out Murder (A Bailey the Bloodhound Mystery, Band 1) - Softcover

Benjamin, Kallie E.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593547357 ISBN 13: 9780593547359

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

When a murder unleashes a widespread investigation through Crosbyville, children’s book author Pris and her trusty bloodhound, Bailey, must sniff out the truth before the whole town goes to the dogs.

After deciding that life as a teacher wasn’t right for her, Priscilla found inspiration for her first children’s book in her three-year-old bloodhound’s nose for truth, and so The Adventures of Bailey the Bloodhound was born. After the book’s massively pawsitive response led Pris to move back to her hometown of Crosbyville, Indiana, to continue the series, she’s surprised by how things have changed in the town, but even more so how they haven’t.

Pris is frustrated to discover that newly elected school board trustee Whitney Kelley—a former high school mean girl—is intent on making Crosbyville more competitive by eliminating “frivolous spending” on the arts and social programs, including Pris and Bailey’s beloved pet-assisted reading program. A minor altercation between them isn’t anything unusual, but after Bailey sniffs out Whitney’s body in a bed of begonias, locals start hounding Pris and Bailey as suspects for the crime.

With Bailey’s sharp senses and Pris’s hometown know-how, can they prove to the community that they’re all barking up the wrong tree?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Valerie Burns, writing as Kallie E. Benjamin, is the author of three mystery series. She is a mentor in the Master of Fine Arts program for writing popular fiction at Seton Hill University in Greensburg, PA, where she earned her own MFA degree. Kallie currently lives in North Georgia with her two poodles, Kensington and Chloe.

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Chapter 1

"Like any detective worthy of the title, Bailey knew that the only way to catch a criminal was to put his nose to the ground and sniff out the clues. With any luck, he'd pick up the scent quickly to help take a bite out of the crime wave hitting the city."

I walked through the park reciting the lines out loud, letting the words marinate in my mind. It sounded okay, but it didn't make my heart race with anticipation. Nancy Drew's place within the annals of children's crime fiction was secure. The first book in The Adventures of Bailey the Bloodhound, Pet Detective, series, The Case of the Missing Maltese, had flowed out of my head and onto the page like . . . well, like honey. This second book felt forced. I felt like I was scraping words out of my head with a dull spoon. I wouldn't mind if I were digging out good words, but this draft certainly didn't have the same zing as the first book.

Kids had loved the first book and were clamoring for more, but these eight-to-twelve-year-old middle-grade readers have high standards. They expect books to be well written, funny, and relevant, even if they can't articulate that's what they want. As a former elementary school teacher, or soon-to-be former teacher, I knew that kids could be exuberant with praise and brutal with criticism. My insecurities went into hyperdrive. What if I didn't have any more books in me? What if I was a one-book wonder? "Ugh!"

With a strong tug on the leash, Bailey lurched me out of the pool of self-doubt where I was wallowing around like a baby seal. Bailey wasn't keen on wallowing, unless it involved mud, freshly cut grass, or his favorite eau de parfum-deer poop. The best thing about a bloodhound was also sometimes the worst thing. They were Grade A scent hounds known for their tracking ability, especially when it came to tracking lost or missing humans. Usually bloodhounds, although large, substantial dogs, were docile creatures. However, whenever they were on the trail of a particular scent, they were unyielding and stubborn. Bailey, my three-year-old bloodhound, was no different. When he was working, he was all nose, but we weren't working. This was supposed to be a casual walk. However, I could tell from the slight prick of his heavy ears, the wiggling nose that barely left the ground, and the pull on his leash that he'd picked up a scent and was determined to follow it to the end. I just hoped that he wouldn't track anything that would get us both into trouble, again. Every time I see a flower bed, I'm reminded of Bailey covered in dirt and the look on my former neighbor Mrs. Goldstein's face as her award-winning peonies were utterly destroyed. Bailey's nose and my inquisitive nature could be a bad combination. However, I was determined to avoid trouble, especially around this town.

I gave his leash a gentle tug. "Come on, buddy. We're not tracking anything today. We both need to keep our noses clean and avoid falling down any rabbit holes."

Bailey pulled his nose from the ground and glanced back at me. His eyes said, I have no idea what you mean. My nose is always clean.

"Don't give me that look. You know what I mean."

He snorted and continued to sniff.

"I quit my job so I could write full-time and finish our next book, not so you could hound out trouble. No distractions. No mysteries. Nothing. We're going to lie low and focus on writing. Besides, nothing ever happens in Crosbyville, Bailey."

This time Bailey didn't bother lifting his nose off the ground. He grunted and continued sniffing. I rolled my eyes.

The sun was setting, and it was unseasonably cool, but I didn't worry about walking Bailey in the evening. Bloodhounds were gentle giants, but to those unfamiliar with the breed, they seemed intimidating. At close to one hundred pounds, Bailey looked like a threat. I knew he didn't have an aggressive bone in his body, but strangers didn't know that. Bloodhounds weren't known for their ability to protect, but there was still something about having so much muscle on the end of the leash that filled me with confidence.

"Priscilla Cummings. How's Crosbyville's budding author?" A familiar voice called out nearby, and I whipped around toward the source. Lucas Harrison flashed a blindingly white, toothy smile as though he were auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. Lucas was the owner of Harrison Real Estate Properties. He was tall with unnaturally tanned skin that reminded me of leather, and dark hair, dark eyes, and a large dark mustache, which was probably intended to distract from a prominent nose. Like Magnum, P.I., from the 1980s TV show with Tom Selleck, Lucas Harrison wore shorts and Hawaiian shirts whenever the northwestern Indiana weather permitted. I'd known him since our high school days.

"Good evening, Lucas." I wondered if he'd heard me talking out loud. How long had he been there?

"You talking to yourself?" He chuckled. Drat.

"No, I was talking to Bailey." I forced myself to smile in the hopes that talking to my dog didn't make me seem crazier than if I'd been talking to myself. Based on the confused look on his face, I knew two things. First, he hadn't read my book, because second, he had no idea who Bailey was. "Bailey, my dog." I pointed.

His smile was frozen on his face. After a moment, he shook it off. "Well, are you ready to sign your life away? We close tomorrow at eleven."

The idea of buying my first house was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. My heart raced while my stomach did flips. "Absolutely," I lied.

"Are you out walking alone tonight? That's not safe. Crosbyville isn't the quiet little hamlet that it once was, and you have to be careful. Maybe I should walk you home. It's never good for an attractive woman to be out by herself at night."

He grinned, but it looked like a grimace, and I forced myself not to frown and back away. "I'm not alone. I've got Bailey."

Again, he looked confused for a split second until it registered with him that Bailey was my dog. He gazed at Bailey, who had stopped sniffing the ground. They looked at each other like two prizefighters. Eventually, Lucas must have realized that he wouldn't stand a chance in a one-on-one battle and glanced away.

"If you're sure, then I'll be on my way. Don't forget to bring a certified check to the title company tomorrow." He gave Bailey a sideways glance and hurried on his way.

When he was out of sight, I released a sigh of relief. Given a choice between being alone at night fending off Lucas Harrison-whom we used to call the Octopus back in high school-or a serial killer, I'd probably rather take my chances with the serial killer. With a population of around thirty thousand, Crosbyville wasn't exactly a mecca for crime. Having spent most of my life here, I felt as safe walking the streets at night as I did in broad daylight. Although, my aunt Agatha often reminded me that this was the twenty-first century, and even though Crosbyville may not have produced an ax-wielding murderer yet, there was nothing preventing criminals from hopping in their cars and driving to town. Personally, I think a killer would find a better selection of victims in a bigger town, but rather than argue with my aunt, I made sure the Taser and pepper spray she'd given me for protection were in my pocket before I headed out.

Bailey and I continued our walk along the quaint streets and kept our eyes open for suspicious strangers. Crosbyville's Main Street could be described as a cross between a Hallmark Christmas movie town and Mayberry from The Andy Griffith Show. The street was lined with brick storefronts, and a manicured central square stood in front of a limestone-and-brick spired courthouse. The names on some of the businesses had changed over the years, but little else had.

Even though Crosbyville was only three hours...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593547357
• ISBN 13: 9780593547359
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 352
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: preigu; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; 49078; Deutschland