Page 3 of Wag More Bark Less

“Ignore that,” I insisted, never taking my eyes off the bird. We were friends as long as the peanuts kept coming and I didn’t accidentally threaten it in any way. But each time my damn phone made a noise, the bird hesitated and bristled.

I could relate.

Another series of pings, and the crow fluttered his wings. It backed up, its dark, beady eyes trained on me, and let out an irritated caaaw.

I considered canceling the reservation on the spot, despite the money I’d lose for doing it. With the autumn season just starting, I had little doubt someone else would snatch up the rental. It would sure as hell save me a headache—and likely a set of baseboards. No way her dog was as well behaved as she claimed. The rapid-fire messages promised the pair was nothing short of mayhem I didn’t fucking need.

“Here,” I said to the bird, pouring a handful of peanuts into my palm and lowering it so it could see. It studied the treats with renewed interest. “You can have them all. Just don’t break anything.” I pulled the screen door open and tossed the nuts into the backyard.

The crow took flight, knocking over a basket filled with clothespins as it whooshed by. The second it was outside, I yanked the door closed and let out a sigh of relief. Fuck, that was more work than it should’ve been.

I returned to the kitchen and searched for anything I might use to cover the broken window before the bird was tempted to become a repeat offender. My gaze snagged on the array of ingredients on the counter—tomatoes, a variety of beans, bell peppers, onions, and bulbs of garlic.

“Chief?” Dana called from the porch.

“All clear,” I announced, mentally taking inventory of the groceries.

Dana Wilcox was the three-time champion of the Golden Days chili cookoff. The secret to her success was likely on this counter. Was it really cheating if the secret to her repeated success was in plain sight? I hadn’t even decided if I was entering this year.

My phone pinged three times in a row, and I was overcome with the urge to toss it through the broken window. I clenched and unclenched my fist.

“Is the menace gone?” she asked.

“Yes. If you can find a piece of cardboard to tape over the window, I’ll give my buddy Beckett Campbell a call. He should be able to get you an estimate for your insurance company.”

My sister Kira would probably skin me alive for interrupting the book club’s special meeting with such a request. They were discussing her brand-new book, one that wasn’t released yet. I only knew that because I ran into the happy couple hardly an hour ago.

Which reminded me, I needed to track down Beckett’s grandma, Pauline, to have a chat about the bounty hunter she hired. One who’d caught the woman who robbed my father clean. After months of trying to track down the culprit without any luck, it sounded too good to be true. But with Margene Miller sitting in a Mexican jail cell awaiting extradition, getting in touch with Pauline wasn’t high up on the priority list.

Another ping, and I decided Pauline would have to wait.

But Dana needed plywood to cover that window until she could arrange having the glass pane replaced.

“You’ll need to cover that window until you can coordinate replacing⁠—”

Another ping.

“You have a call, Chief?”

Dana pressed her palms against the counter near the sink and lifted on tiptoes to spy into her backyard. “That crow’s having a feast. Did you leave any peanuts for me?”

“I didn’t⁠—”

“No matter. You can replace the jar tomorrow. The Grizzly has them on special this week. That’s why I had some on hand. Lucky that.”

Yeah, lucky that. I stared absently at the groceries splayed across her counter, but I couldn’t seem to process what I was seeing due to my growing irritation. So much for cracking the code to her prize-winning chili.

“You better go, Chief,” Dana said suddenly, as though catching me spying at her ingredients. She shooed me toward the door with the broom she’d acquired from the laundry room, making me feel as though I was now the intruder. “You best take that call. It sounds important.”

“But—”

Dana shoved me out the front door. “I’ll give my son a call to cover the window until Mr. Campbell can make it over.”

“If you need—” I was interrupted by two additional pings. Dana waved her fingers at me before shutting the door in my face.

I let out a heavy sigh, wondering how the day had gone so damn sideways.

I let dispatch know the call was handled, and then, without an excuse to put it off any longer, headed the few short blocks toward my duplex to face my new tenant and her obedience school dropout.