Free Murder Most Howl: A Paws & Claws Mystery by Krista Davis Page A

cleaver? That’s cute. I’ve never heard that rhyme before.”
    “Cute?” Shelley hissed. “It’s the worst clue ever! Where am I supposed to hide it? In a pot? No one would ever find it.”
    “You haven’t hidden it yet?”
    “No! I didn’t know what to do with it. Val’s going to be furious if she finds out.”
    “Perfect. Where do you want to hide it? We can make up a clue, and I’ll announce it.”
    Shelley looked out the window at the snowy vista. “Can it be somewhere close by?”
    “How about the dock? I’ll tell them, Hickory dickory dock, the mouse went up the clock .”
    “You’re as crazy as Val. They’ll be looking for clocks!”
    “Do you have a better idea?”
    “No. But I don’t want to go out in that awful weather.” Shelley looked miserable at the mere thought.
    “I’ll do it. You might need to distract them, though. The dock is visible from the windows.”
    “Would you?” Shelley brightened up considerably.
    “Sure, where’s the cleaver? I’ll do it right now.”
    “In the kitchen.”
    I followed Shelley and slipped the weapon inside my jacket.
    Val poked her head into the kitchen. “I’ve been pouring coffee and ran out. Where’s the coffeemaker? What are the two of you hatching in here?”
    I whipped past her, leaving Shelley to come up with answers.
    Trixie followed me to the office. I grabbed some floral wire to tie the cleaver to a post, and we stepped out into the snow. Even though it had slowed, I couldn’t see the lake. If Trixie hadn’t had black ears and a black spot on her rump, I would have lost sight of her. It was deep enough for her to have to jump like a bunny to cross the pristine lawn. Negotiating the walk down to the lake was tricky. I fell and slid,which Trixie thought great fun and reason to leap over me. She yapped with delight at our new game.
    “You’re not helping.” I reached out to nab her but she darted out of reach, her little tail wagging nonstop.
    I made it to the dock and had second thoughts. We really didn’t want people having to slip and slide down the hill to get to the dock, did we? Huffing more than I’d have liked, I called Trixie and made my way back up to the inn. A different nursery rhyme ran through my head. Stomping to shed snow, I returned to the office, peered into what Oma called the emergency closet, and found just what I needed. I seized the broom and tied the mock cleaver onto it with the florist wire. Now where to hide it?
    It only seemed fair for one of the other merchants to benefit from it. After all, the candlestick had been found by someone in the inn. I looked down at Trixie. “Ready for another trek out in the snow?”
    She gazed up at me and perked her ears. I took that as a yes.
    Armed with my broom, I felt a bit like a Halloween witch as we walked out into the white world. The Blue Boar wasn’t open yet, but a young guy was cleaning snow off the restaurant’s deck. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Most of his hair was hidden under a knit ski hat but I caught a glimpse of friendly brown eyes when he flashed me a smile.
    “Hey,” he said.
    A common Southern greeting. He was local or from the South. I responded with “Good Morning,” thinking that the owner of The Blue Boar was a savvy guy around Oma’s age. He wouldn’t hire a louse, even to shovel snow.
    “Do you work for The Blue Boar?” I asked.
    He stopped shoveling and stepped toward me. “Just do odd jobs when they need me. Are you Mrs. Miller’s granddaughter?”
    “How did you guess?”
    He looked down at Trixie. “Not to slight you any, ma’am, but your dog’s getting a reputation around town.”
    Trixie didn’t seem upset by that. She edged closer tosmell his boots. Trixie had found a few bodies. I could imagine what local people thought. They probably ran when they saw her coming.
    I offered my mittened hand. “Holly Miller.”
    He laughed when our gloves were too bulky for a handshake. We tried a mock high five. “Shadow