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“Is he going to be okay?” Doug asked, his grin fading as if he really cared.

“Yes, but we can’t have people running around assaulting others, especially over something like a Christmas Festival.”

“Oh, I agree. We also can’t have corruption at City Hall. Both are important. And if you would be so kind, please tell those fine folks at City Hall that if they need deer for the Festival, mine are still available.”

Chapter 7

“How convenient for him,” I muttered as we returned to Trevor’s truck.

“Right?” He opened the door for me. “Rudolph goes missing, so the organizers should call Doug to swoop in, save the day and collect the paycheck. He’s got to be guilty. I just don’t know how to prove it.”

I had to agree, but it all seemed just a little too easy for me. “I think you’re right, but you better look at other explanations,” I said as he got in behind the wheel and started the car.

“Like what?” Trevor asked, his brow furrowed while he stared at the unplowed road ahead of us.

“Well, like Charlie not being paid for housing the deer,” I suggested. “Maybe he hid Rudolph somewhere, and he told Brewer he had better pay up or he wouldn’t have Rudolph for the Christmas Festival.”

“And then what?” Trevor asked. “Charlie knocks himself over the head?”

“Maybe Brewer confronted him about Rudolph being missing and it became physical.”

“But Charlie said he didn’t see anyone this morning,” Trevor said as we hit the main highway.

“Maybe they had the altercation on another day, and Brewer attacked Charlie this morning.”

We rode in silence for a while, then Trevor shook his head. “It doesn’t ring true for me, Gina.”

“Well, it’s just stuff to consider.”

“I really like Doug Miller for this,” Trevor said. “He’s got the means and the motive.”

Miles later, we entered Heywood proper, and Trevor sighed. “I have to get back to the station for a meeting that should most likely be handled in an email. I’ll drop you off at your house, even though I think we should pay Brewer a visit.”

“I also think we need to talk to Charlie again.”

“That’s barking up the wrong tree,” Trevor said. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Well, you’re being closed-minded. Charlie’s wife was a murderer.”

A long beat of silence stretched between us, and I once again hated how I seemed to not have a filter. Charlie’s wife had killed another person for money, but died of cancer before she’d even gone to court. It had been a very sad time in our community. She hadn’t been a horrible woman, only trying to do what was best for her family.

“That’s a bit harsh,” Trevor said quietly. “And it doesn’t mean Charlie is a bad person because his wife was.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. But don’t take Charlie off the table quite yet, okay?”

He glanced over at me and nodded. “Fair enough.”

We pulled up in front of my house. “Have fun at your meeting,” I said.

“Right. Listen, did you want to drive out to Tony Brewer’s house with me tomorrow?”

I was curious what the man would have to say, but I did have eleven puppies to take care of. Leaving them with Jacob and Daisy for hours on end wasn’t an option, and since Brewer lived pretty far outside of town, that would most likely happen.

However, maybe I could get my brother, Vic, over to help. He had a way with animals, and Jacob would love to spend time with him.

“Let me make some calls and I’ll text you later,” I said. “I need to see if Vic will help with the puppy-sitting.”

“I’d take that job in a minute if I wasn’t the one investigating this mess,” Trevor muttered.

Goodness. The fact he loved the puppies made him a hundred times more attractive, and a slow blush crawled up my cheeks. “See you later,” I said, exiting the vehicle.

As Trevor backed out, a worrying noise came from the house. What was it? Were the puppies… howling?

“What in the world?” I whispered. I hurried to the front door, stepping carefully so I didn’t slip and fall. The last thing I needed was a broken limb.

After unlocking the door, I listened. Yes, they were howling. In unison. What the heck was going on?

I slowly walked toward the kitchen. Under the din of dog noises, Christmas carols played from the living room. I peeked around the corner to find the kitchen empty. All the racket was coming from the living room, and I worried about my carpet. Who in the world had let eleven untrained puppies into the carpeted room?

I found Jacob sitting on the couch, his smile so wide I thought his face would crack. “Hey, Mom! Watch this!”

He pointed toward the television where eleven puppies sat in front of it facing Daisy.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“When I play this song, they all start howling. It’s the funniest thing I’ve seen!”

Are sens

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