That Doggy in the Window (Emaline Banister Mysteries #3)

By Jaye Watson

Emaline Banister fancies herself a sleuth because she helped her favorite cop, Harry Jordan, solve a bizarre murder case. But Harry's out of town on special assignment, one so dangerous he can't tell her where, or when he'll be back. When two of her friends lose their beloved dogs to what seems to be an epidemic of canine heart attacks, she starts wondering if more than coincidence is at work. After all, chasing a serial killer, even if the victims are dogs, is better than sitting home and worrying about a man she might or might not be in love with. This title is published by Uncial Press and is distributed worldwide by Untreed Reads.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Untreed Reads
• Release date: Oct 15, 2010
• ISBN: 9781601741011

Book preview

That Doggy in the Window

A Mystery Novel Byte

By

Jaye Watson

Uncial Press       Aloha, Oregon

2010

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-101-1

ISBN 10: 1-60174-101-4

That Doggy in the Window

Copyright © 2010 by Judith B. Glad

Cover design

Copyright © 2010 by Judith B. Glad

All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.

Published by Uncial Press,

an imprint of GCT, Inc.

Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com

That Doggy in the Window

February. Her least favorite month.

Emaline buttoned her coat and pulled up her hood against the chill, wondering why she insisted on being environmentally responsible and riding the bus, instead of driving her nice warm car to and from work.

The stop was three blocks from her house, and she hated every damp, splashing step of those blocks.

Streetlights were shimmering gleams in the rain, yellow sodium vapor lamps pretending to be sunlight, but failing to be anything but garish imitations. When she turned the corner onto her street, she automatically looked up toward Mrs. Irvington's front window. For all the years she had lived with her grandfather, Mrs. I and her babies had been faithful about welcoming her home.

Sometimes that had been the only good thing about coming home.

Mrs. I's drapes were open as usual, but no one was there. Not even Scooter and Archibald.

The dogs, an ugly-as-sin Pomeranian-Daschund cross and a mostly-Yorkie, were always perched on the window sill, watching passers-by with great interest. Scooter liked to bark at his friends, of which she was one, but Archibald was more dignified, and simply waggled his whole fuzzy butt when one of his special friends walked by.

Must be suppertime.

She let herself into the house thinking, for perhaps the hundredth time, that she ought to sell the big old barn, and buy herself a nice modern condo, preferably somewhere closer to work.

The message light on the answering machine was blinking. She pushed it, and did her best to deny she was hoping for a message from Harry. He'd said, back in December, that once the anniversary of his wife's death was behind him, he would be ready to look toward the future.

Emaline had hoped that future would include her, not necessarily on a permanent basis, but for a while, at least. She was lonely, and Harry was good company.

The fact that it had been far too long since a man had done more than shake her hand was beside the point. A man besides Harry, that was. She was ready to see what came after the first kiss.

Was he?

Message 1: We are calling to remind you to attend the neighborhood meeting next Monday. The city council is proposing to build a professional hockey rink in Selden Park. Such a move would have severe negative effects on the quality of life in the neighborhood. Please be there to show support for the committee to prevent devastation of Selden Park.

Message 2: Em, I've been assigned a pisser of a case. Don't know when I'll be able to get away. Just wanted you to know I haven't forgotten you.

Message 3: Hi, Em. I'm not going to be able to do the Girls' Night Out this week. You guys have fun, and think of me sitting home with a sore throat and three sniffly kids.

Of the three messages, she couldn't decide whether the second or the third was the worst news.

Oh, come on, you know you're disappointed about Martha, but you'll still have a good time with Amy and Jerri. She pushed the erase button. Did Harry really have a bad case, or was he letting her down easy? And if he was, why should she care? They were as much associates in solving crime as two mature adults who happened to have had a few dates.

She had her head halfway through the neck of her purple cowl-necked sweater when the phone rang. Uninterested in the usual dinnertime survey, she let the machine pick up. The caller sounded near tears, so she didn't recognize Mrs. Irvington's voice right away.

I think Scooter is dead But Archibald is still breathing. Oh, Emaline, I don't know what to do. The lady at 911 said that a sick dog didn't qualify as an emergency. But Scooter... And Archibald... The worlds dissolved into an anguished keen.

Emaline understood. Scooter and Archibald were Mrs. Irvington's children, as much as