Free Nothing To Sniff At (Animal Instincts Book 5) by Chloe Kendrick Page B

asked. “What’s going to happen?”
    She looked at me with a solemn expression. “Nothing is going on. You are going home and not getting involved in this matter. If nothing else, you should have seen today that this is a dangerous matter. This is the second body on this case, plus the theft of police property. These guys are bold and brazen and you don’t need to be going up against them. You need to go back to your house and stay put.”
    “But what about?”
    “What about nothing. It’s too dangerous. You’re not trained. You can’t just take your snake oil show around and pretend to be an investigator. It doesn’t work that way. People get killed that way.” She looked upset. I wondered again if this was the personal side of this case or the professional side of this case.
    “Okay, message received. No more investigation. I’ll go home and stay there.”
    “Thank you.” She patted my hand, which on the job was a major concession of feelings for her. It was practically a proposal.
    I had to answer a number of questions for the police, but most of my answers were either “I don’t know” or a repeat of what I’d told Detective Green. They nodded and took notes. They said that they would be talking to the Port Clinton police as well, and perhaps they would work together on this case since it seemed to be related to both the dognapping and the corpse in the trunk.
    I decided to go home and wait it out. Sheila was right. I was over my head here. I had no lines of inquiry that didn’t involve me stepping on the toes of the police or getting myself shot.
     
    I watched the news that night, which told the story of Jackson Troxel in much more exciting terms than I had experienced. They went on about the witnesses to the crime nearly being mowed down by bullets and I pulled a blanket around me, thinking that I had indeed been lucky to escape with my life.
    The doorbell rang, and I assumed that it was Sheila Green, but it wasn’t. I didn’t recognize the woman, but I definitely recognized the dog that was with her. It was the fake Barkley from the yard today. I shivered involuntarily, remembering what had happened.
    “Can I help you with something?” I asked, not opening the door completely so they could enter. The Beagle was busy sniffing my leg, remembering me from today and smelling my own two Corgis on my leg.
    “You were with my boyfriend today, when he was killed?” she asked, sniffing at the end. Her eyes were red, and the tip of her nose was chapped. I doubted that it was from standing out in the cold.
    I cleared my throat, not sure where to begin. Part of me wanted to hear what she had to say, but that part battled with Sheila’s warnings to stay away from this investigation and the sound of bullets whizzing past my head earlier today. My mind was made up for me when the Beagle ran between my legs and started barking at my dogs. They stood their ground, growling and barking in return. The noise sent The Countess scampering out of the room, and the two humans were left to handle the battle of the canines.
    It took a couple of minutes to get things settled down. Bess was still inclined to chase after the Beagle, despite the size difference, and the Beagle wanted to sniff both of my dogs who wanted nothing to do with him.
    By the time that we got the dogs settled, she was already well inside the house and had loosened her jacket. She wasn’t carrying a weapon, though I hadn’t looked through her purse for a gun.
    She sat down on the sofa without being asked. She reminded me of Sheila in that way, but the similarities ended there. She was tall and thin, with long dishwater blonde hair. Her teeth were discolored, and I remembered reading somewhere that meth would ruin your teeth. I wondered if this was a clue that she had been on drugs. It would explain Troxel’s involvement with the men who wanted the dogs switched.
    I sat down opposite her and studied her closely. The eyes were so reddened from