Read Online Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery by Meg Muldoon - Free Book Online
Authors: Meg Muldoon
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scare him. In a matter of moments, he had finished off both tins.
I expected him to dart away into the woods, the way he usually did. But he didn’t. He looked up at me, and started whining.
It was a heartbreaking little whine.
Poor little Hucks.
Maybe he was ready. Maybe he was ready to trust me now.
I slowly turned the knob to the backdoor and opened it. I was met with a burst of frigid air.
“Come here, Huckleberry,” I said, quietly. “Come inside, poochie.”
He leaned back on his paws defensively, but stayed there. A good sign, I thought.
“Come here,” I cooed again.
He started moving toward me. Slowly. Closer to the door.
I started smiling. Maybe he was finally going to trust me.
He got to the door threshold, and then placed a paw over it.
“It’s okay,” I said. “C’mon.”
Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed through the kitchen, pushing the front door of the shop open, and slamming it shut with a loud crash.
I saw fear flash across Huckleberry’s eyes. He backed away and took off, running back into the woods.
“Damn it,” I muttered, watching him run.
But then he did something strange.
He didn’t disappear. Not like he usually did, deep into the woods.
This time he sat there, waiting. Looking at me.
A crazy thought crossed my mind as I saw him gazing at me from the woods.
Did he want me to follow him?
I thought back to what Daniel had said about him. That he felt like the dog wanted him to follow him.
Was that true now? Did Huckleberry want more than just a few pieces of pie? Did he want something else?
It didn’t take me too long to decide. I quickly took off my apron and went to the coat rack to grab my jacket. As I put it on, I went to the front of the shop to make sure there were no other customers. There weren’t. I turned the sign around to say closed, and zipped up my down jacket.
When I went to the back door, Huckleberry was still in the same spot in the woods, still gazing at me.
I went out the door, closing it behind me. I walked down the steps, and out into the woods, trudging through the thick snow as the skies above me turned red with the dying sun.
Chapter 15
He ran out ahead of me, but not so far that he lost me.
The deeper I walked into the woods, the more I felt like Huckleberry had a purpose, a reason for doing this.
He wasn’t just a starved stray looking for a meal. There was more to it.
The snow was deep and I was breathing hard as I made my way through it. With each step, my foot would fall through several layers of the powdery white stuff. I almost stumbled a few times, falling down to my hips once, but I kept going.
Suddenly, I saw Huckleberry up ahead. He had stopped. He was waiting for me.
I tried to pick up the pace to get to him. He had started whining again.
“I’m coming,” I yelled.
By the time I got to where he was, I was sucking in deep breaths of frosty air that stung my lungs.
“I’m right he—” I started saying, but then stopped mid-sentence.
Huckleberry was pacing around something. Something I couldn’t make out. Something covered by a layer of snow.
Then, my eyes fell on something that looked like a log sticking up out of the snow. A form that had previously just blended into the field of white.
I stood frozen for a moment, putting it together. Putting it together, but unable to process it.
Then, I understood.
I put my hand over my mouth and stifled the scream that traveled up my throat, looking for a way out.
The form in the snow.The outline. The pale purple color of it.
In the dying red light, I finally understood what it was.
A hand, sticking up from the blanket of rosy snow.
A frozen hand.
Chapter 16
I left Huckleberry barking around the hand and stumbled through the deep snow, back to the shop, back to a phone.
A feeling of absolute horror circulated through my body. I ran, falling into the brutally cold snow and getting back up again, and falling again and repeating the whole process
I expected him to dart away into the woods, the way he usually did. But he didn’t. He looked up at me, and started whining.
It was a heartbreaking little whine.
Poor little Hucks.
Maybe he was ready. Maybe he was ready to trust me now.
I slowly turned the knob to the backdoor and opened it. I was met with a burst of frigid air.
“Come here, Huckleberry,” I said, quietly. “Come inside, poochie.”
He leaned back on his paws defensively, but stayed there. A good sign, I thought.
“Come here,” I cooed again.
He started moving toward me. Slowly. Closer to the door.
I started smiling. Maybe he was finally going to trust me.
He got to the door threshold, and then placed a paw over it.
“It’s okay,” I said. “C’mon.”
Suddenly, a gust of wind rushed through the kitchen, pushing the front door of the shop open, and slamming it shut with a loud crash.
I saw fear flash across Huckleberry’s eyes. He backed away and took off, running back into the woods.
“Damn it,” I muttered, watching him run.
But then he did something strange.
He didn’t disappear. Not like he usually did, deep into the woods.
This time he sat there, waiting. Looking at me.
A crazy thought crossed my mind as I saw him gazing at me from the woods.
Did he want me to follow him?
I thought back to what Daniel had said about him. That he felt like the dog wanted him to follow him.
Was that true now? Did Huckleberry want more than just a few pieces of pie? Did he want something else?
It didn’t take me too long to decide. I quickly took off my apron and went to the coat rack to grab my jacket. As I put it on, I went to the front of the shop to make sure there were no other customers. There weren’t. I turned the sign around to say closed, and zipped up my down jacket.
When I went to the back door, Huckleberry was still in the same spot in the woods, still gazing at me.
I went out the door, closing it behind me. I walked down the steps, and out into the woods, trudging through the thick snow as the skies above me turned red with the dying sun.
Chapter 15
He ran out ahead of me, but not so far that he lost me.
The deeper I walked into the woods, the more I felt like Huckleberry had a purpose, a reason for doing this.
He wasn’t just a starved stray looking for a meal. There was more to it.
The snow was deep and I was breathing hard as I made my way through it. With each step, my foot would fall through several layers of the powdery white stuff. I almost stumbled a few times, falling down to my hips once, but I kept going.
Suddenly, I saw Huckleberry up ahead. He had stopped. He was waiting for me.
I tried to pick up the pace to get to him. He had started whining again.
“I’m coming,” I yelled.
By the time I got to where he was, I was sucking in deep breaths of frosty air that stung my lungs.
“I’m right he—” I started saying, but then stopped mid-sentence.
Huckleberry was pacing around something. Something I couldn’t make out. Something covered by a layer of snow.
Then, my eyes fell on something that looked like a log sticking up out of the snow. A form that had previously just blended into the field of white.
I stood frozen for a moment, putting it together. Putting it together, but unable to process it.
Then, I understood.
I put my hand over my mouth and stifled the scream that traveled up my throat, looking for a way out.
The form in the snow.The outline. The pale purple color of it.
In the dying red light, I finally understood what it was.
A hand, sticking up from the blanket of rosy snow.
A frozen hand.
Chapter 16
I left Huckleberry barking around the hand and stumbled through the deep snow, back to the shop, back to a phone.
A feeling of absolute horror circulated through my body. I ran, falling into the brutally cold snow and getting back up again, and falling again and repeating the whole process
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