Free PW02 - Bidding on Death by Joyce Harmon

about it. “I think she’s got a brother, but not local,” she finally said. “And his name would be different; someone told me once that Rose had been married and then divorced a long time ago.”
    “I’ll have to keep after Luther on the next of kin question,” I decided. “Surely her nearest and dearest will give her dog a home.”
    Doc said sadly, “You’d be surprised the number of pets I’ve had to rehome when their owners die; plenty of times the next of kin bring them in here and ask for them to be put down.”
    Surprised, yes, and shocked too. What is wrong with some people?
    Doc signed off and I turned back to the computer to see what Jack was up to. “Sixteen volumes?!” I asked. “Were there that many Arabian Nights?”
    “Yep,” said Jack. He hit the enter key and placed a bid. I gasped at the amount.
    “Okay, I don’t want to hear a word about the digital camera I bought,” I told him. “That will actually be useful around here, for selling on eBuy and for the website.”
    “Not a word,” Jack agreed.
    Julia took her departure then, ominously declaring that she hadn’t made any commitments about not investigating.  I gave Paco some more pieces of softened kibble, and took him out to the yard to do his business. I was glad to have the harness; the way he tugged and pulled, he’d wind up strangling himself with a leash attached to a collar. He obviously seemed to believe that he got to decide where we went and the speed at which we got there.
    Polly nosed open the screen door and joined us, curious about this new addition. Paco gave a shrill scream of defiance and flung himself on Polly. Did he really not notice that she was ten times his size? Startled, Polly danced out of his reach. I saw that Paco had a mouthful of fur, and reminded myself to check Polly for damage later, though that thick fur usually makes good armor .
    That ended our yard excursion. Polly continued to follow us just out of Paco’s reach and Paco kept pulling impatiently, determined to teach her who was boss. I put him back in the laundry room and hoped he’d settle down eventually. Polly could do some real damage to the little terrorist if she wanted to, and however unpleasant he was, I didn’t want for him to be injured while under my care. Surely someone was going to want him.
    I crashed right after dinner. I’m a big fan of murder mysteries, but one thing they don’t really convey is just how exhausting it is to find a body, and all the activity and questioning that entails. I was out like a light for hours.
    But I woke up at three in the morning. Jack was beside me, and I could feel that he was tense as an over - coiled spring and just about to snap. And no wonder! That sound! Drifting up from the first floor was an eerie keening, unspeakably tragic and incredibly grating at the same time.
    “You awake?” Jack asked quietly.
    “Yeah,” I mumbled. “How long has that been going on?”
    “Couple hours now. I keep thinking he’ll stop. I couldn’t believe you were sleeping through it.”
    “What should we do?”
    “How about taking him out to the barn? Use one of those cat crates.”
    “Jack, it’s cold out there, and he’s a short-haired dog.”
    “Fine,” Jack snapped. He heaved out of bed and went to the closet, hauling a sleeping bag from the top shelf. “Then I’ll go to the barn.”
    I was too tired to get into a big thing. “Jack, I’m sure he’ll get over it soon and settle down.”
    “But not here,” Jack directed. “Find an owner for him.”
    And he stomped off down the stairs.
    I flopped back on the bed. After a moment, I went to the bathroom and found the cotton balls and fashioned myself some ear plugs. I could still hear Paco, but it was fainter.   Pity and a desire to strangle the little beast warred uneasily in my head.
    Eventually, I slipped back to sleep. I dreamed I was back that the Beaumont auction. The tent was there, the office trailer, the BBQ Hut, and all the