role to the two younger dogs. He kept them
in line.
“Call me,” Izzy said, and turned to the giggling girls, who would likely be good for
a sale of high-calorie drinks and pastries.
Stan waved and hurried out of the store, feeling stuffed. She didn’t have the ability
to ignore the goods at Izzy’s. If she got out of the visit with Em quickly and hadn’t
dropped from exhaustion, she could do a real run on the town green before she had
to get baking. She had a number of treat orders to fill.
Even though she’d only been in town a few months—and moved here with no intention
of starting a business, let alone a pet food business—she already had steady customers,
mostly for her fresh baked, organic-ingredient-only treats. But people had heard about
the “human” meals she made for the animals and were starting to request them. Char
and Ray Mackey, who owned the local bed and breakfast, had been her first customers
for meals. Their dog Savannah, who had suffered from allergies and stomach problems,
had responded so positively they’d immediately asked Stan to provide her meals. Which
meant a lot of research, because she didn’t yet feel confident in her ability to gauge
the right nutrients to add to a well-balanced dog meal. It was one thing to cook for
her own cat, but quite another to be responsible for another animal. And as Char increased
the amount of food she wanted, the more worried Stan became.
But it was a good problem to have. Then she’d been asked to do Benny’s doggie party,
which she considered a real coup. Her business was gaining momentum.
It was unfortunate the birthday party had been last night’s second casualty, but his
parents had promised to reschedule since Benny had been looking so forward to the
event. Although he had gotten to take home all the extra cow tracheas. She wondered
when Em would let them reschedule the party. Figured today wouldn’t be the best time
to ask.
Chapter 7
The Frog Ledge Town Green beckoned as Stan walked to Em’s. It was her favorite place
in town next to her own house, and she was lucky enough to live right across from
the south end. The green—or the mile-long “center of the universe,” as Stan thought
of it—served as the town’s unofficial meeting place, where farmers’ markets, parties,
music, Revolutionary War reenactments, and many other events occurred. It was also
the official billboard for anything going on in town, because inevitably, everyone
had to pass the green at least once a day to get anywhere in Frog Ledge. So it was
common to see all kinds of signs, official and handmade, clustered at one end. A stone
dust path surrounded the grass, and walkers and runners could be found just about
any time of the day or night.
The trees still had some colored leaves clinging to the branches, although the reds
and oranges and yellows so powerful just a week ago had already faded. Stan loved
to run in the fall air, and this morning was still fairly warm, teetering in the low
fifties. There was hardly anyone on the trail.
She turned into Em’s driveway. The dairy farm was busy. Cars were parked haphazardly
all over the driveway and the lawn, and a couple spilled over onto the sidewalk in
front of the house. Stan hesitated a minute. Em seemed to have more than enough support.
Maybe she should just go about her business. After all, this didn’t really involve
her.
But questions lured Stan back. Who had stabbed the farmer and left him in his own
corn maze to die? Was it a random killing, or had it been someone Hal knew? As much
as Stan didn’t want to think random murderers had been walking the streets of Frog
Ledge and happened upon Hal in his corn maze, it was more disturbing thinking of who
in town would’ve murdered him. Someone he trusted? Had he walked right into an attack?
Stop. You’re not on the police force. They’ll figure it out.
She half turned,
in line.
“Call me,” Izzy said, and turned to the giggling girls, who would likely be good for
a sale of high-calorie drinks and pastries.
Stan waved and hurried out of the store, feeling stuffed. She didn’t have the ability
to ignore the goods at Izzy’s. If she got out of the visit with Em quickly and hadn’t
dropped from exhaustion, she could do a real run on the town green before she had
to get baking. She had a number of treat orders to fill.
Even though she’d only been in town a few months—and moved here with no intention
of starting a business, let alone a pet food business—she already had steady customers,
mostly for her fresh baked, organic-ingredient-only treats. But people had heard about
the “human” meals she made for the animals and were starting to request them. Char
and Ray Mackey, who owned the local bed and breakfast, had been her first customers
for meals. Their dog Savannah, who had suffered from allergies and stomach problems,
had responded so positively they’d immediately asked Stan to provide her meals. Which
meant a lot of research, because she didn’t yet feel confident in her ability to gauge
the right nutrients to add to a well-balanced dog meal. It was one thing to cook for
her own cat, but quite another to be responsible for another animal. And as Char increased
the amount of food she wanted, the more worried Stan became.
But it was a good problem to have. Then she’d been asked to do Benny’s doggie party,
which she considered a real coup. Her business was gaining momentum.
It was unfortunate the birthday party had been last night’s second casualty, but his
parents had promised to reschedule since Benny had been looking so forward to the
event. Although he had gotten to take home all the extra cow tracheas. She wondered
when Em would let them reschedule the party. Figured today wouldn’t be the best time
to ask.
Chapter 7
The Frog Ledge Town Green beckoned as Stan walked to Em’s. It was her favorite place
in town next to her own house, and she was lucky enough to live right across from
the south end. The green—or the mile-long “center of the universe,” as Stan thought
of it—served as the town’s unofficial meeting place, where farmers’ markets, parties,
music, Revolutionary War reenactments, and many other events occurred. It was also
the official billboard for anything going on in town, because inevitably, everyone
had to pass the green at least once a day to get anywhere in Frog Ledge. So it was
common to see all kinds of signs, official and handmade, clustered at one end. A stone
dust path surrounded the grass, and walkers and runners could be found just about
any time of the day or night.
The trees still had some colored leaves clinging to the branches, although the reds
and oranges and yellows so powerful just a week ago had already faded. Stan loved
to run in the fall air, and this morning was still fairly warm, teetering in the low
fifties. There was hardly anyone on the trail.
She turned into Em’s driveway. The dairy farm was busy. Cars were parked haphazardly
all over the driveway and the lawn, and a couple spilled over onto the sidewalk in
front of the house. Stan hesitated a minute. Em seemed to have more than enough support.
Maybe she should just go about her business. After all, this didn’t really involve
her.
But questions lured Stan back. Who had stabbed the farmer and left him in his own
corn maze to die? Was it a random killing, or had it been someone Hal knew? As much
as Stan didn’t want to think random murderers had been walking the streets of Frog
Ledge and happened upon Hal in his corn maze, it was more disturbing thinking of who
in town would’ve murdered him. Someone he trusted? Had he walked right into an attack?
Stop. You’re not on the police force. They’ll figure it out.
She half turned,
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