Bark M For Murder
Chapter One
I stepped from the van into a penetrating cold wind. It was an
unseasonably chilly day in southeast Georgia. We usually had a few days
like this in late January and early February, but not a week before
Christmas with carols reverberating in our ears and a Santa in every mall.
A northeaster was blowing between 18 to 25 m.p.h.
I had donned my bright Day-Glo orange rescue suit and was fully protected
from the cold and wind. I attached the long leads to Caesar's harness,
then Mark Anthony's, stepped aside, and watched them bail out of their
cages with unrestrained enthusiasm. They are two highly trained
man-trailing bloodhounds from my kennel. I tucked items into my zippered
pockets and attached a quart water bottle. Jasmine Jones parked her van
behind mine.
I watched her unload. We wore identical suits. My hair is a mousy brown.
Her black tresses artfully hugged her scalp and complimented her long
regal neck. She is African American with skin one shade lighter than milk
chocolate. I'm pale, never tan, and look like the girl next door after a
bad night.
I hired and trained her in man-trailing, search-and-rescue, and drug
searches. She lives beside me in a garage apartment and we ... read full excerpt from: Bark M for Murder ebook
