A Tail of Two Murders: A Wayside Bay Mystery, #1

By Reida Kenzington

Charlie loves her dogs and coffee. But a murdered client raises her hackles. Can she sniff out the culprit before she's next?

Charlie Winston leads a busy life with her house call dog grooming business, her canine family, and keeping up with her BFF Mabel. So when her favorite client is murdered, she's shocked and saddened.

Then when another not-so-favorite client ends up dead, the police suspect her. As if! They're barking up the wrong tree!

To get herself out of the dog house, Charlie digs into the investigation with Mabel's reluctant help. The culprit picks up her scent and tries to keep Charlie at bay. Mabel says her sniffing around is too dangerous and her dogged determination to find the culprit puts her life and Mabel's in danger.

Can she save herself and flush out the killer before she--or Mabel--end up dead?

A fun and exciting mystery and the first installment in the new series A Wayside Bay Mystery - The House Call Dog Groomer Series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reida Kenzington
• Release date: Jul 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201078881

Reida Kenzington

Reida lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two dogs. She's a full-time author, mother of two grown sons, and dog mom to Xena and Stella. Be sure and check out their pictures and how some are characters in her books on her website.  Reida was at one time a housecall dog groomer with her own business. She pulls from those experiences and incorporates it into her writing. Reida loves to write, read, quilt, and crochet and walk her dogs. She and her husband have been married for 15 years.  The Wayside Bay Mystery series in order: A Tail of Two Murders Poison & Pie & Pooches, Oh My! look for the release in August 2020 Follow Reida Kenzington at Facebook https://www.facebook.com/reidakenzington Instagram https://www.instagram.com/reidakenzington Be sure to sign up for Reida’s monthly newsletter at reidakenzington.com for updates, specials, and giveaways.  And if you enjoyed the book, Reida would be thrilled and appreciative if you would share your review on Amazon or Facebook  and tell your friends! Thank you! 

Book preview

Chapter One

Are you freaking kidding me? I yelled. The light changed to red. Again. There wasn’t any oncoming traffic. The car ahead didn’t move. What was the hold up? Some people should not be allowed to drive! I smacked the steering wheel of my new orange Jeep Wrangler. Seriously. Do I have to get out and make the turn for you? Finally, the car inched out into the intersection and made the left. I followed, darted around, and gunned the engine. As I passed I saw Mrs. Walsh, one of my clients, gripping the wheel at ten and two eyes straight ahead. Figured. I took a deep breath and repeated to myself, be kind, be kind.

My first stop this Monday morning; coffee at the Bake and Brew. I had texted my coffee order to Mabel, the owner and my best friend. Second, my house call dog grooming job.

I pulled up to the drive-thru window. You’re late again, Charlie. Mabel wagged her pudgy finger as I reached for my coffee.

Ya think? Sheesh, Mrs. Walsh was in front of me and she took two lights to make the left. I thought I’d have to get out and do it for her.

Mabel laughed. Settle down. She’s old. We’ll be like that before you know it. She handed me my breve grande with light chocolate. I sighed and savored the first long sip.

Better? Mabel asked.

Much. Coffee made everything better. Even on this dismal chilly and wet October morning. The usual fall weather on the Oregon Coast.

It’s Lana Anderson’s day, right?

Yep. I shifted the Jeep into drive. I gotta run. Then I’m going to Phyllis’. I’ll come by after.

On Main Street I drove in the direction of the Anderson home. Coastal Highway 101 was the only road through Wayside Bay, It changed into Main Street for three miles then back to the highway. A trip from one end to the other was only fifteen minutes. It wasn’t a bustling metropolis, but it was home for the last thirty years. I loved the town and its people, even if they didn’t know how to drive.

On the highway I saw Chief ‘Cappy’ Capistrano in his police cruiser traveling in the opposite direction. The last 20 years or so he’d been the chief of police in Wayside Bay after serving 15 years as a Portland detective and then captain.

After college my late husband Matthew and I settled here when he took a job with the county medical examiner’s office. We’d started our life and family in Wayside Bay. Matt Jr., now 29 and Ryan, 26, were born in nearby Pacific Beach. Cappy and I had become close when my husband disappeared 18 years ago. Matthew had gone out on his fishing boat as he had many times. When he hadn’t returned from fishing by dark, I’d become concerned and called Cappy. Several hours passed and then he had called the Coast Guard.

The worst time of my life began. A few days later Matthew’s boat, undamaged and empty, washed up on the beach. Months passed with no sign of him or any progress in the case. I started investigating on my own without much success. Cappy and I had butted heads over my involvement—he said meddling—in his investigation.

I swung onto Spruce and skidded to a stop in the loose gravel drive at the Anderson’s. Oops. I’d only had my new Jeep a week. The brakes were much touchier than my old truck. My first appointment was with Rufus, an adorable pale yellow Labradoodle, barely two years old and still full of puppy, and his dog sister Missy, a fluffy brown and white Shih Tzu. My nickname for her was Miss Bossy Pants because she growled and grumbled when no one paid attention to her. Their dog mom, Lana Anderson, ran a successful online fashion business from her home. Her husband, Rick, was never around. Lana said he traveled a lot for work. About ten years ago they had moved to Wayside Bay and had bought the old Spruce Street Mansion. They were the talk of town as they spent over two years renovating the decades-old structure restoring it to its original splendor, albeit, with some modern touches.

As I got my gear out, I noticed Rufus and Missy through the light fog at the edge of the woods behind the house. Rufus’ bark echoed across the expanse of manicured lawn while Missy yapped furiously. Why were they outside? Rufus bounded over with Missy waddling behind trying to keep up. Instead of the usual happy-to-see-you bark, he howled long and loud. It was weird.

Whoa, buddy, settle down. Where’s your mama? My work would be much easier if dogs could talk. Rufus darted off, and Missy jumped up on my nylon groom pants to say pick me up. Down, Missy. She whined and I ignored her jumping. Rufus, halfway across the yard, stopped. He turned and barked again and raced off into the trees. What was wrong with him?

Stop! No, we’re not going out there. Come, Rufus! I yelled my command and he ignored me. Criminey, Rufus, this is not the time.

Where was Lana? I knocked on the kitchen door and it swung open. I stepped into the kitchen. On groom mornings Lana would set out an array of fruit and pastries for us in the stark white kitchen. We’d chat a bit, and I’d get to work in the dog groom room adjacent to the kitchen.

Today, the white marble counter had no goodies. The obscenely expensive espresso machine—I had the same one on my wish list—wasn’t even turned on.

Lana? It’s me, Charlie, I announced. Missy pawed at my leg again. I ignored her as I pulled out my phone from my fleece vest and called Lana. From Lana’s home office down the hall I heard a sing-song ring tone. The call went to voicemail. This wasn’t right. She never left the house without her phone. It was like a part of her hand. I walked down the hall to her home office. Her laptop was open with a screensaver of Missy and Rufus on the beach. It looked like she was ready to work. I’d been in her office several times and always thought how ‘Lana’ it was. Wall-to-wall bookcases lined the white walls. White file organizers, all neatly labeled with black lettering, filled the shelves. Under the window sat a white wing-back chair. Simple, organized, yet elegant and expensive.

Missy pawed my leg yet again. Geez, she was needy this morning. And Rufus hadn’t shown up yet. I walked back to the kitchen and outside with Missy on my heels. Rufus! Come! No sign of him. Great. That’s just what I needed. Although sweet and adorable, he had no manners and didn’t listen. I couldn’t lock Missy inside alone. I didn’t want to carry her fat butt along with my own plump derriere to the woods. And I didn’t have Lana’s husband’s number to call and ask if he knew where she was. My concern for her was shifting to panic.

Fat raindrops hit my face. Awesome. I trotted to the Jeep and yanked on my rain boots and hooded jacket. I’d have to trek into the woods to retrieve Rufus.

C’mon, Missy. I scooped her up like a football. Let’s go get Rufus.

* * *

I’d made as far as the middle of the yard when Rufus trotted out from the woods. He had something hanging from his mouth.

Rufus, what do you have? He dropped a woman’s shoe at my feet. Oh geez. I examined the shoe. Was this Lana’s? Rufus, where’s mom? He jumped up on my shoulders, his muddy wet paws easily reaching my five-foot-four height.

Down, I commanded. He whined and darted into the brush. Then stopped and looked back. He barked and took off again. I plopped Missy on the ground and we followed. I had to jog to keep up. My breath quickly became labored, a reminder of how out of shape I was. My gut began to twist with fear.

Hold up, Rufus, I said between gasps. He stopped ahead. I could see why. Full-on panic welled up in my chest. Please don’t be what I think it is.

Slowly I approached Rufus and realized he stood over Lana. He nudged her hand. She didn’t move. By the sickening blue of her skin and her dull stare, I already knew she was dead.

My head swam, and I lost my balance. My rear plopped onto the wet mossy ground next to Lana’s lifeless body. I called 911. The dispatcher instructed me to check for her pulse. I did, but then the dispatcher said don’t touch anything when I told her ‘there’s a scarf knotted up pretty tight around her neck’.

What the heck? Lana was dead? Exhaling deeply, I closed my eyes to keep from fainting. When I opened them, I tried to avert my eyes from Lana’s unending stare. But I couldn’t not look at her. Her arms lay to her sides, the scarf I had given her for Christmas last year knotted tight around her neck. I touched her cheek and recoiled at the chill of it. Hot tears spilled on my cheeks. Missy crawled into my lap and whined softly.

Rufus’ head snapped to the right, and he growled. Missy growled too. I pushed her off my lap as I struggled to my feet. My knees ached because of the cold. With the help of a nearby rock, I stood and brushed the moss and dirt from my damp rear end.

Rufus, what is it? The fog made it difficult to see anything other than trees. Goosebumps prickled my arms from the sudden thought I wasn’t alone. I heard sirens in the distance. Thank goodness. I pulled on Rufus’ collar but he wouldn’t budge from Lana’s side. The sirens were in the driveway now. I left Rufus and jogged the short distance into the yard. I wiped away my tears and called Cappy on his private cell.

Charlie, where are you?

Look toward the woods. I waved. Cappy, another officer, and the ME with two assistants trudged across the wet grass.

She’s out here, I said pointing to Rufus. As we approached Lana, Rufus let out a deep, low growl and laid across her.

The group stopped. Cappy sighed. Charlie, can you get him? Cappy asked.

Wait here. I jogged to the house and returned with the dogs’ leashes. Move back. I’ll get them on their leashes, I gasped.

Cappy gestured for the group to give me room. With the leashes I walked up to Rufus. His growls had ceased when everyone had moved back.

Rufus, we have to let them take care of her now, I whispered as I clipped the leash on. From my pocket I showed him a treat. He hesitated and then followed as I led him away. Missy, seeing the treat, came closer, and I scooped her up and took them back to the house.

We waited in Lana’s kitchen. Finally, Cappy and an officer I didn’t know came in. Rufus barked and growled ready to rip their throats out. I hadn’t thought to keep him on his leash. The officers froze. I gripped Rufus’ collar, but he was too strong for me. Each ferocious bark echoed as foam and spittle spewed from his jowls. He ripped free and lunged at the men. They took a step back.

Rufus, it’s okay, boy, I cooed. He faced the two and growled. Missy’s vicious yip-yaps chimed in. Given the chance, she would chew Cappy’s face off with her needle-like teeth.

Charlie… Cappy said, his hand over his taser.

My jaw dropped. Seriously? If you tase, Rufus you’ll have to deal with me.

Cappy’s grimaced. I don’t want to but he’s not cooperating.

He’s a dog. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, I scolded.

As I inched closer to Rufus, I said softly they were here to help. He didn’t care. It was a duel, dog against man. Neither side would give. The proverbial light bulb went off over my head. From the cabinet I got the dog treat jar and jiggled the lid. Rufus’ head whipped around as I lifted the lid and grabbed a couple chewy treats.

Here, Rufus, Missy. Let’s get some yummy treats. Yum, yum, they’re so good. Missy, her job of terrorizing the officers forgotten, skipped over. On her hind legs she danced for her treat. Rufus, still wary of the officers but wanting a treat, sniffed my closed hand containing his treat. Then I tossed it to Cappy. Catch!

The other officer snagged the treat midair. Rufus focused on him. The officer squatted down and held out the treat. Here, Rufus, here ya go. That’s a good boy. Rufus sniffed, cautious, but curious. The officer’s hand led Rufus to the grooming room. They reached the threshold and the officer tossed the treat. Go get it! Rufus lurched forward, his over-sized paws slipping on the tile. Missy ran not wanting to be left out. I tossed another handful of treats inside. The dogs scrambled to get them as I locked the door.

Holy moly, I’ve never seen Rufus like that. I leaned against the door to steady my wobbly legs.

Cappy sighed. Dogs. Ya gotta love ‘em. He tilted his head to the officer next to him. Officer Sean Flint, Charlie Winston.

We shook hands. Nice to meet you, ma’am. Sorry for the circumstances.

Ma’am? Call me Charlie, please. The word ma’am made me feel much older than my 55 years. Cappy, what about the dogs? Where’s Lana’s husband Rick?

We’ve called him. Cappy’s cop notepad was at the ready. So tell us what happened. I started to speak when my knees buckled. Cappy grabbed my elbow and guided me to a chair. I waited until my head quit spinning and explained everything up to their arrival.

The scarf they strangled her with is the one I gave her for Christmas last year, Cappy.

He ignored my comment. And her office is down here?

Yes.

Wait here. The two entered Lana’s office. Minutes later Flint walked outside. Did you touch anything in the office? Cappy asked.

Of course not. I do know the procedure. From my late husband’s conversations about his work as a medical examiner, I was familiar with police procedures.

Right. Well, you think you do. You know I have to ask. He wrote in his notepad. Did you see anyone?

No.

Did it occur to you that someone might have still been here after you discovered the body?

I shivered and hugged myself as the thought sunk in. I felt like someone was watching me when I was with her.

Hear anything? Any cars speeding away? Anything out of the ordinary?

No, nothing. I parked in the driveway and the dogs were outside. Tears stung my eyes. Who would have killed her?

Cappy flipped his notepad closed. I’m not confirming or denying the cause of death.

But—

He held up his hand. It’s my job to find out what happened. You can go now. He put a hand on my shoulder. You going to be okay?

Yes, I choked.

Cappy smiled and his expression softened. Go see Mabel.

My hands trembled as I jammed the gearshift into reverse and stomped on the gas. Gravel sprayed. I didn’t care and only wanted to get away. The wind picked up and the rain hit my windshield sideways. I let the tears come and openly sobbed as I flipped the wipers on and floored it to Bake and Brew.

* * *

The sudden sound of my phone ringing almost made me hit the car alongside as I tried to parallel park. The phone slipped from its magnetic holder but I grabbed it before it fell to the floor. The screen displayed Mabel’s Facebook picture from her trip to the Bahamas last year. I steered with one hand and answered.

Yes, Mabel? I was shocked to hear how normal my voice sounded.

Charlie! Are you okay? Her voice exuded hysteria mixed with matronly concern.

You heard already? News traveled fast in a small town like Wayside Bay.

Yes! Darla called me. You know how she is. Yes, I did. Miss Nosy Darla Wadsworth, a previous client and neighbor to Lana. I’m sure she’d seen my car and the emergency vehicles. And Cappy texted me saying you had found her, she added.

I’m fine and out front. A lump formed in my throat as I dropped my phone on the passenger seat. Maybe I wasn’t that ‘fine’. My park job was crooked. I straightened out and then dashed through the downpour. Mabel had already set out coffee and comfort pastries at our booth in the back.

Tell me what happened. Why was Lana in the woods? Mabel tore off a chunk of chocolate eclair. Oh my gosh, poor Lana, Mabel wailed as she stuffed her mouth with one hand while the other flailed about. Customers turned at her cries. Mabel ate her emotions, and I usually helped her.

I grabbed her flailing flour-covered hand. Mabel, calm down. Mabel was the most dramatic woman I had ever known. I was no match for her. Her own husband called her the drama queen. Granted, this situation called for drama.

After I had devoured half an eclair and more coffee, Mabel brought out my favorite peanut butter cookies-the overcooked but not-totally-burned-ones. I inhaled one of the small cookies and reached for another. Mabel composed herself while eating another eclair.

Was it a stroke or something? She doesn’t seem old enough for that, but I know it happens to women her…

Stop. I leaned over. She was murdered, I whispered.

Mabel clapped her non-eclair hand over her mouth, her teary eyes wide with disbelief.

What? How? Who would do that? What did Cappy say? Did he say she was …

Cappy wouldn’t say. The scarf I gave her last Christmas was tied around her neck, so I think it’s safe to assume. I leaned back and closed my eyes. They popped open when I saw Lana’s lifeless face. An impending migraine loomed over my left eye.

Oh, I’m so sorry you found her, Charlie. You should go home. Mabel dabbed her eyes with the corner of her chocolate-stained apron. What about Rick? Was he there?

I caressed my forehead and willed my headache away. No, I didn’t see him. I pointed to my empty cup. Mabel, do you mind if I have more coffee? My head.

Mabel’s face softened then soured as she glanced at the drive-thru window. That girl. Sarah, ‘that girl’, had four cars stacked up in the drive-thru and two people waited at the counter. Little puffs of flour swirled around Mabel as she slid out. I have to help her. Don’t leave. I’ll only be a few and I’ll bring you more coffee, Mabel bustled to the window, apron flying behind, and shooed Sarah away to tend to the counter.

Mabel had the hardest time getting good help. Sarah, a single mom of a toddler, had been hired two months ago when the summer helper quit without notice. Sarah’s habit of calling out sick once a week put Mabel at her wit’s end. But she wouldn’t let her go for fear the next hire would be worse.

As I waited for Mabel’s return, I replayed the morning in my head. Then the inevitable questions surfaced; Who would’ve killed Lana? What possible motive could they have? Was it someone she knew? Besides Mabel, Lana was the kindest, most generous human I knew. It was a mystery. I loved a good mystery, but this wasn’t a good one. Someone I knew and was friends with was dead. Mabel brought my coffee and sat.

You know, Lana and Rick come—uh, came in now and again. She kept her eye on Sarah as she spoke. They were so sweet to each other. Rick always ordered the gluten-free coconut macaroons, her favorites. Mabel sniffed. Murders don’t happen in Wayside Bay, she stated. True. There hadn’t been a murder for several years. The drive-thru bell dinged again and Mabel sighed.

Hold on.

A sudden rush of affection for Mabel washed over me as I watched Mabel take off again. Aside from my two sons, she was the most important person in my life. No matter what situation I got myself into or what crazy ideas I came up with, I had her support. We had first met at a quilting guild meeting 25 years ago and became fast friends. She had opened Bake & Brew on Main Street 13 years ago. I was her first customer.

Mabel had got me through the suspicion, whispers, and finger pointing when my husband had disappeared, along with the speculation of how I’d done him in. It occurred to me that Rick Anderson, Lana’s husband, would be the object of suspicion like I was. A pang of sympathy shot through me. It wasn’t fair. Unless he was guilty.

Mabel returned and continued. Lana used to come in and work on her laptop. She was always nice and tipped well, even though she only ordered a coffee and sometimes a macaroon. She always took home something for Rick too.

Mabel set out a plate of sugar-laden, comforting treats from an array of domed pedestal glass platters. She knew me well. Sugar and coffee was what I needed.

What did Cappy ask you? Mabel bit into a gooey chocolate-covered confection. Want one?

Of course I do. I snatched one from the plate. He asked me what happened and that was it. Mabel, what could Lana have done for someone to have murdered her? I slouched down in the booth. Who does that?

That crossed my mind too. I mean, she’s—was so nice. How could anyone? Mabel scowled, her favorite expression. Sarah is driving me crazy. I watched Sarah wipe up another spilled drink. Mabel bit into another gooey cookie. Are you going home now? You should go home.

No. Remember I have Phyllis today and then I’m done. She’ll be unhappy if her expert dog groomer doesn’t show. When I had started Fluff the Ruff House Call dog grooming ten years ago, it had taken a