Lost and Hound: Hibiscus Cove Cozies, #1

By Victoria LK Williams

Storm Tinsdale is happy with her organized, quiet life, but that is all about to change! 

In Lost and Hound, the first book in the Hibiscus Cove Cozies series, life for Storm Tinsdale takes a surprising turn when a lost puppy named Archie wanders into her life. Storm is content with her quiet and orderly life, but Archie has other plans.

Archie leads Storm to the body of his murdered owner, and suddenly Storm finds herself embroiled in a mystery that she can't resist solving. She agrees to take care of the orphaned puppy until she can find his owners, but as she investigates the murder, Storm discovers that Archie's previous owner had secrets and enemies.

As Storm delves deeper into the case, Archie becomes her loyal sidekick and partner in crime-solving. But as the clues pile up, Storm finds herself in the crosshairs of a dangerous killer.

Can Storm and Archie be able to crack the case and bring the murderer to justice, or will they become the next victims? Will Archie find a safe and happy home, or is Storm's investigation leading them both into danger?

With humor, heart, and a lovable canine sidekick, Lost and Hound is a cozy mystery that will keep you guessing until the very end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sun, Sand & Stories Publishing
• Release date: Sep 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201705343

Victoria LK Williams

Victoria writes clean woman's fiction, with a touch of romance and a sprinkling of humor. She also has two Cozy Mystery Series  Citrus Beach Mysteries and Mrs. Avery's Adventures. Plus a Paranormal Mystery Series  Storm Voices. Currently, she is working on a new Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Beach House Mysteries. She can often be found writing from her south Florida home, looking into her garden, watching the birds and squirrels fight over their next meal, while she writes. Her two cats, Miss Marple, and Fletch, often join her at the desk and each has their assigned spot. Victoria's not sure they are there to supervise her writing or watch the birds. Victoria and her husband of 35 years share a love of gardening, and together they have written a gardening handbook for Florida gardeners.  

Book preview

Chapter 1

Storm Tinsdale hated dirt. Not clean soil you would find in a potted plant, but the grimy dirt that comes from the cast-off of everyday life. And this was unfortunate, because standing in front of her sat a lumpy ball of dirt and mud—she knew it had to smell. Only when the object opened its mouth and barked did she realize it was a puppy. She gave an involuntary shudder as the animal took a few more steps closer to her.

Instinctively, she stepped back, wanting to give the animal a wide birth. She walked around it, but the dog whined, pulling at her heartstrings. Storm didn’t consider herself a cold, uncaring person. She merely had a major aversion to nasty, dirty objects.

The puppy whined again, and Storm heard the distress in the animal’s tone. She halted in her tracks and turned back to look at the puppy, and as she looked closer, she noted it wasn’t just mud and dirt caked on the puppy’s fur. As she looked at his paws, a sticky substance he must’ve walked through caught her attention, and she had a sense of foreboding.

Reaching into her gym bag, Storm pulled out the towel she had placed in there and bent down to the puppy’s level. The puppy took this as an invitation and whined with anticipation. He hurried towards her, but she moved quicker than him and deftly caught him in the towel, making sure she didn’t touch him. Murmuring reassurances, Storm looked him over carefully as she gently used the towel to scrape away the mud. He had a collar and a tag, and she could see his name. Archie. The puppy seemed to know she was no threat, and his tail wagged even harder. Because of his breed, he had little tail to wag, and his entire backside was in motion. It surprised her to find no offensive odor in his fur, and most of the mud seemed to attach itself to the towel. The mud was still fresh and damp, leading Storm to reason Archie probably was a puppy who’d gotten away from his master and found a mud puddle to roll in, and not a street animal. She looked at the dog a little closer and found herself captivated by his eyes. The dog’s movements had loosened the towel around one of his paws, and he put it up on her knee with hesitation. She tried to dodge the movement, but something made her stop. She looked closer and saw the paw not only had mud caked on it but also something sticky and red.

Is that blood? Are you hurt?

Concern over the animal pushed her aversion of his filthy state aside, and she used the towel and wiped the dog down, looking for any kind of injury. But the dog seemed fine.

By the time she wiped most of the grime off the dog, he seemed to remember something, and he jumped away from her, barking furiously. At first, she thought his movement aggressive, and she jumped to her feet, ready to protect herself if she needed to. But the dog took a few steps away from her and turned and barked again. She took a tentative step towards him, and he repeated the process. It took a few moments before she realized he wanted her to follow him. Still holding the towel, she looked around to see if anybody else was in the area, but the area appeared deserted. The dog barked urgently, and without thinking of her own safety, she followed the dog, not knowing the trail he led her on would change her perfectly tidy, organized life.

Together, the woman and small puppy started down the road. Their pace was a constant stop and start with the puppy checking to be sure she followed him. After a few moments, Storm figured they were heading to the small community park separating the business district of the small town from the start of the residential area.

The park was used by most as a shortcut with plenty of sidewalks and pathways for those who needed a smooth, wide-open avenue to travel. The main sidewalk ran along the river’s edge, and park benches were strategically placed for wanderers to sit and relax. At this time of day, the evening shadows were beginning to deepen, and the sun setting against the river’s horizon added a glow to the edges of the shadows.

The late January winds had a bite to them, a gentle reminder to the snowbirds visiting what they were missing at their northern homes. As the sun lowered in the sky, the heat of the day cooled, and Storm shivered when the wind teased at her long brown hair, making her thankful she hadn’t given in to the summer temptation of a shorter style. The pathway seemed unusually empty for the time of day. It seemed as if everyone who walked their dogs or took an evening stroll were not interested in their regular evening activities.

OK, I’m right behind you, Storm reassured Archie when she noticed he had stopped and stood looking back at her. At the sound of her voice, he wiggled his behind and whined, and Storm wondered if his movements were from fear or happiness.

It’s probably a combination of both, she thought.

Storm picked up her pace to catch up to the puppy, and a trail of goose bumps raced across her neck. Although she was cold, her reaction was more from the tension the animal radiated.

Archie’s body shook as the pace of their progress slowed to a crawl. The wind stilled, not even the leaves on the branches of the live oak trees moved. The Spanish moss hanging low from the trees gave a last gentle sway and then hung still. Storm bent down and gave the dog a gentle pat on his back.

It’s alright, she whispered, almost afraid to raise her voice.

Looking around, Storm tried to determine what made her so nervous. The path was as familiar to her as the hallway from her kitchen to the dining room, but she felt a sense of danger. She looked back down at the dog when he gave a sharp bark. Before she could stop him, Archie took off, his short, stubby legs moving fast. Without second-guessing herself, Storm rushed after him.

Archie led the way towards the river and one bench. Then the figure of a man sitting on the bench, gazing out onto the river, came into Storm’s view. But when she reached the bench, it was clear he could no longer enjoy the peaceful view in front of him. The man was clearly dead.

Chapter 2

Storm immediately stepped back and looked around her to see if there was anyone nearby who could offer help. But the park was deserted. She felt a moment of frustration mixed with relief. If the park was empty, that also meant the man’s assailant was no longer around. Archie barked and pawed at the man’s pant leg. As he did, the paws she had just wiped clean were once again covered with the sticky blood that had formed a puddle by the bench. It was then that Storm noticed the knife sticking out of his side.

Archie, come here.

Her voice was sharper than she intended, and the dog gave a whine, confused by her tone, but he quickly obeyed his new friend. Storm bent down and wiped the blood from his feet once again, keeping hold of the dog so he wouldn’t get into any more trouble. Then Storm reached into her bag once more and pulled out her phone and dialed the police. She steadied her trembling voice and reported the murder and her location. Once the dispatcher had been reassured that she wasn’t in harm’s way and there was no danger, the woman told her to stay put until the police arrived.

Fine, but please make them hurry, Storm answered. The dispatcher promised they were on their way and told Storm to stay on the line until help arrived.

She looked around her once more, and that’s when she noticed the leash on the back of the bench where the man sat. Not caring whether she was disturbing evidence or not, she reached over and grabbed it, hooking it to Archie’s collar. With the dog firmly in tow, she took a few steps away from the bench. She might be physically distancing herself from the situation, but she wasn’t missing anything. Her sharp mind picked out every single detail that was there to be had. She noticed the puppy prints leading from the blood puddle, but she saw no other footprints. From what she could see of the knife hilt, it was an ordinary kitchen knife, or maybe a chef’s knife. It wasn’t a fancy dagger or anything that would catch your eye and make you remember it.

Is he your owner, boy?

Storm bent down to reassure the dog, but he didn’t seem as distraught as he had before. He seemed to know there was no danger if he stayed with Storm and let her take charge. He had done his job by getting help for his master. Even if he was too late to save the man’s life.

As Storm waited for the police to arrive, she took in the details of the dead man’s appearance. He was well dressed in a business suit, and it was clear from the cut of his suit, the manicure of his fingernails, and the stylish cut of his hair that this wasn’t an average office worker. This man held a position in the community, and as she looked closer, she was sure she knew his face, but she couldn’t put a name to it.

Suddenly, the sounds of police sirens filled the air, and flashing lights approached the park’s entrance. Storm stepped away from the bench area, ready to direct the police to where she was. But she didn’t have to, as Archie’s shrill barks directed the police as they got out of their cars and rushed forward.

At first, it seemed like mass chaos as the officers arrived. But Storm could see an organized method to their chaos, and she watched with interest. The first patrol officer approached her, one hand on the hilt of his gun, and she lost no time in identifying herself, not wanting to be under suspicion or have a gun drawn on her by mistake. Once they had asserted that she was the person who had called in the crime, they hastened her to the side, blocking her as much as possible from the goings-on around the body.

But Storm was astute, and she tilted her head at any angle she could to watch the proceedings. Crime tape was wrapped around the area, and the officers began to meticulously look for any sign of where the perpetrator might have gone. She noticed none of them touched the body, but plenty of pictures were taken. For the first time, she noticed the briefcase by the man’s feet as one officer put it in an evidence bag. Storm was forgotten, or at least she thought so, until an old pickup truck arrived on the scene.

The man who got out was tall and dark, dressed in street clothes. One of the first officers on the scene approached him and pointed in Storm’s direction. She watched the other man, whom she assumed to be somebody in charge, give a curt nod and then