Halloween Hijinks (A Zoe Donovan Mystery Book 1) by Kathi Daley Page A

exited the bathroom, I noticed that Charlie, who had been walking right next to me as we made our way down the hall, was now sitting in front of a door at the very end. I really didn’t want to open it, but my sympathy for the poor dog trapped in the dark won out over my fear. Beyond the door was a stairway leading down, I assumed, to the basement.
    “I found the stairs to the basement,” I told Ellie.
    “You aren’t going down?”
    “I’ve come this far . Charlie is with me. It’ll be fine.”
    “You know that you ’re insane?”
    “So I’ve been told. ” I hesitated for just a minute before carefully making my way down the partially rotted staircase. When I reached the bottom I slowly turned the handle on the rusty doorknob. The door was stuck, most likely rusted with age. I put my shoulder into it, opening it just a crack but enough for a medium-sized black dog to rush through. The dog ran up the stairs and I was just about to make my own hasty escape when Charlie ran into the room the black dog had just vacated.
    “Charlie,” I whispered . I have no idea why I whispered. It seemed the thing to do in a spooky old house on an inky black night.
    Charlie barked but did n’t respond to my call.
    “What’s wrong? ” Ellie asked.
    “Charlie , come,” I demanded in a much sterner tone.
    Charlie whined but refused to obey.
    “Are you okay?” Ellie sounded panicked.
    “Charlie went into the basement,” I said. “I’m going to set the phone down while I get him. If I scream, call for help.”
    I set the phone on the floor by the door . It took both hands and most of my strength to push the door open enough to squeeze through. I shone my flashlight around the musty old room. The first thing I noticed were footprints in the dust and a trail of what looked a lot like blood smeared across the floor. I stifled a scream as I frantically looked for any sign of Charlie.
    “This isn’t funny,” I insisted . “We’re in a spooky old house two days before Halloween. If this were a movie, we’d be dead by now. Get your furry butt out here.”
    Nothing.
    I began to walk forward slowly using my flashlight to search the room, where I found Charlie guarding what appeared to be a very dead body.
     

Chapter 8
     
    After a twenty-minute interrogation by Sheriff Salinger, Charlie and I headed over to our Thursday-night book club meeting at the senior center.
    I’m sure you ’re wondering why I didn’t just go home after such a harrowing experience. But the last thing I wanted was to be alone, and Ellie had a date and Levi wasn’t answering his cell. Besides, I find the group of seniors I share this particular hobby with to be comforting. Most don’t understand why I want to engage in discourse with a group of geriatrics, but suffice it to say that as far as I’m concerned, the depth of knowledge and understanding these golden-agers bring to the table by far supersede any communication issues that might exist due to the generation gap between us.
    There are seven human members of the club including myself, and six canine members including Charlie. I settled Charlie with the other dogs in attendance and took a seat between my grandfather, who I refer to as Pappy but others refer to as Luke, and Tanner Brown, a crusty old fisherman who runs charters on the lake.
    I’d been instructed by Salinger not to discuss the murder, a directive I realized was going to be close to impossible to obey.
    “Are the fish biting?” I politely ask ed Tanner after kissing Pappy on the cheek. I don’t really care if the fish are biting; in fact, I find the whole concept revolting. Still, my dad raised me to be polite, and part of being polite is the making of gracious conversation. Besides, talking about fish would, at least temporarily, help me to keep my promise to our good sheriff.
    “Can’t complain ,” Tanner said.
    “It looks like Buddy is doing better this week. ” Buddy is Tanner’s sixteen-year-old golden retriever,