Read Online Bite the Biscuit (A Barkery & Biscuits Mystery) by Linda O. Johnston - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda O. Johnston
Tags: Fiction, Mystery, mystery novel, Fiction Novel, mystery book, dog mystery, linda johnston, linda johnson, animal mystery, bite the biscit, linda o. johnson
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I put Biscuit into her large, open-topped crate, then approached our guests, but before I could do more than say hi Judy returned, carrying one of our trays. This one was covered with a layer of dog cookies shaped like spaniel faces with long ears.
It wasn’t the kind of biscuit in the photo relating to Myra …
“Thanks,” I told Judy. I went behind the counter and just watched, smiling while she waited on the customers, who seemed happy to buy a dozen of the newly baked dog treats.
“We’ll want more later,” said the lady. “Other kinds, too. I left our little Missy at the resort and will probably bring her here a time or two before we leave. We’ll be around for another week, so that should work well.”
“That would be delightful,” I said. Judy had already packed the order into a decorative bag, and I impulsively grabbed another biscuit from the tray. “Let’s make it a baker’s dozen today.”
Both the lady and the man with her smiled, said thanks, then left.
“That was nice.” Judy remained beside me behind the display case. She was smiling too, although her long face didn’t look particularly cheerful.
“It’s always a good thing to make a customer happy,” I said, “and since we opened a few minutes late, it didn’t hurt to add a little extra to encourage them to return.” I sounded as if I’d been running a store for a long time rather than just trusting my instincts as a new retailer—instincts derived from my own experiences as a customer.
Judy didn’t look impressed. “You’ll need to give us instructions on when to add that little extra to an order.” She paused. “Brenda never wanted us to do that.”
I didn’t want to say anything against my friend, but I wondered if Icing on the Cake would have been more successful if Brenda had been a little more impulsive that way.
“I may regret it,” I said, “but let’s give it a try.”
“Okay.” Judy turned slightly, as if preparing to return to the kitchen, then stopped and looked back at me again with her soft blue eyes. They appeared sad. “Those detectives. Do they … I mean, they were asking Neal and you questions, right? About Myra. And … um, do you know how she was killed?”
“I … well, the cops indicated she was strangled,” I told her. “With a dog leash. But they indicated there might have been more to it, too.”
“And the police think you did it?” Then Judy bit her narrow lips as if she regretted saying it.
I lowered my head for a moment, resting my gaze on Biscuit. “I gather that, yes, I’m on their suspect list. But I didn’t do it, and they’re sure to figure that out soon.”
“Who do you think did it?” Dinah had just entered the Barkery from the kitchen behind us.
Both my assistants stared at me, as if waiting for a huge revelation that would make them feel a whole lot better about the situation. But even if I’d hazarded a guess, I had no idea if it would have any potential validity. Even so, I needed to reassure them that all around here was fine. That I’d be around and able to keep this shop open and maintain their jobs.
“I didn’t know Myra well enough to say who would have wanted to hurt her,” I told them. “She seemed rather … domineering to me.” And officious and nasty and over-the-top for no reason. “And not everyone likes that.” Like me. But it still hadn’t driven me to murder her. “The natural guess would be her closest friends and family, maybe one of the other Ethmans. But I’ve met several of them, including her husband Harris, and my initial reaction isn’t to point fingers at him or any of the rest.” I paused. “Do you two have any ideas?”
Both pairs of eyes opened wide. “Me? Oh, I didn’t know her much either,” Judy said.
“Me neither,” Dinah added.
“But you’re right, Carrie.” Judy nodded. “Books and TV shows and all would indicate that the people who knew her best would make the most likely suspects. I
I put Biscuit into her large, open-topped crate, then approached our guests, but before I could do more than say hi Judy returned, carrying one of our trays. This one was covered with a layer of dog cookies shaped like spaniel faces with long ears.
It wasn’t the kind of biscuit in the photo relating to Myra …
“Thanks,” I told Judy. I went behind the counter and just watched, smiling while she waited on the customers, who seemed happy to buy a dozen of the newly baked dog treats.
“We’ll want more later,” said the lady. “Other kinds, too. I left our little Missy at the resort and will probably bring her here a time or two before we leave. We’ll be around for another week, so that should work well.”
“That would be delightful,” I said. Judy had already packed the order into a decorative bag, and I impulsively grabbed another biscuit from the tray. “Let’s make it a baker’s dozen today.”
Both the lady and the man with her smiled, said thanks, then left.
“That was nice.” Judy remained beside me behind the display case. She was smiling too, although her long face didn’t look particularly cheerful.
“It’s always a good thing to make a customer happy,” I said, “and since we opened a few minutes late, it didn’t hurt to add a little extra to encourage them to return.” I sounded as if I’d been running a store for a long time rather than just trusting my instincts as a new retailer—instincts derived from my own experiences as a customer.
Judy didn’t look impressed. “You’ll need to give us instructions on when to add that little extra to an order.” She paused. “Brenda never wanted us to do that.”
I didn’t want to say anything against my friend, but I wondered if Icing on the Cake would have been more successful if Brenda had been a little more impulsive that way.
“I may regret it,” I said, “but let’s give it a try.”
“Okay.” Judy turned slightly, as if preparing to return to the kitchen, then stopped and looked back at me again with her soft blue eyes. They appeared sad. “Those detectives. Do they … I mean, they were asking Neal and you questions, right? About Myra. And … um, do you know how she was killed?”
“I … well, the cops indicated she was strangled,” I told her. “With a dog leash. But they indicated there might have been more to it, too.”
“And the police think you did it?” Then Judy bit her narrow lips as if she regretted saying it.
I lowered my head for a moment, resting my gaze on Biscuit. “I gather that, yes, I’m on their suspect list. But I didn’t do it, and they’re sure to figure that out soon.”
“Who do you think did it?” Dinah had just entered the Barkery from the kitchen behind us.
Both my assistants stared at me, as if waiting for a huge revelation that would make them feel a whole lot better about the situation. But even if I’d hazarded a guess, I had no idea if it would have any potential validity. Even so, I needed to reassure them that all around here was fine. That I’d be around and able to keep this shop open and maintain their jobs.
“I didn’t know Myra well enough to say who would have wanted to hurt her,” I told them. “She seemed rather … domineering to me.” And officious and nasty and over-the-top for no reason. “And not everyone likes that.” Like me. But it still hadn’t driven me to murder her. “The natural guess would be her closest friends and family, maybe one of the other Ethmans. But I’ve met several of them, including her husband Harris, and my initial reaction isn’t to point fingers at him or any of the rest.” I paused. “Do you two have any ideas?”
Both pairs of eyes opened wide. “Me? Oh, I didn’t know her much either,” Judy said.
“Me neither,” Dinah added.
“But you’re right, Carrie.” Judy nodded. “Books and TV shows and all would indicate that the people who knew her best would make the most likely suspects. I
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