A Novel Death: a Danger Cove Bookshop Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 10) by Elizabeth Ashby, Ellie Ashe
Authors: Elizabeth Ashby, Ellie Ashe
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my head backward, I saw her walking across the yard toward me, in front of a tall man. Even upside down, I recognized him. He wasn't wearing a white coat, but there was no mistaking that gruff yet amused expression as Dr. Adam Whitaker studied me doing my possum impersonation.
"Well, that is interesting," he said in a rich baritone that at any other moment would have melted my insides a little. "Hello again, Meri."
He looked beyond me and nodded at the dog that was still frozen to the branch about three feet above me.
"That looks like Winslow," he said.
I twisted my head to look at him again. "You know him?"
"He's one of my patients. So how is it you treed the dog?"
Adam picked up the broken ladder and tried to set it up, despite the wonky top step.
"I didn't tree the dog. The dog treed a cat and then got carried away."
"That's my Tilly up there," Mrs. Fitzwilliams said, peering up into the branches. "Can you get her down?"
Adam peered up into the tree, and then his lips softened a little. He was wearing a dark-blue T-shirt and jeans—all of it fitting him very nicely.
"Oh, sure. I see," he said. "Is there a mouse up higher, above the cat?"
I laughed, but even that small movement made the nail poke me in the leg again. "Ouch."
"What hurts?" he asked, taking a couple steps up the ladder and testing whether it would hold his weight. I didn't have much confidence in it, since it didn't hold mine, but he made his way to the third step.
"There's a nail in the branch, and it's caught on my jeans. If I move, the nail pokes my leg."
Adam found the spot where the nail had pierced my pants. "You have no idea how nice it is to be able to get an answer to that question, for a change."
I continued to cling to the tree while trying not to think about how I could feel the heat from his hands through the fabric. It took him less than a minute to free my leg. Then he stepped down and stood below me.
"If you drop your legs, I'll help you down," he said.
I tried to loosen my legs, but they were cramped, and it took some effort and more than one groan to unwrap my grip. Once my legs were down, Adam wrapped an arm around me and gently lowered me to the ground. He set me on my feet and waited until I stopped swaying before letting go.
"Are you okay? Can you stand?"
"I think so," I said and immediately regretted my quick response, because he let go of me and went back to the spot below the dog.
He put his hands on his hips and looked up, and Winslow looked down with a whine. I stretched my legs and tried to walk without looking like a cowpoke in an old western.
"How do we get the dog down now?" Mrs. Fitzwilliams asked from her perch on the chaise lounge on the small deck. I was certain she was using the royal we as she looked awfully comfortable in the padded chair, and she was probably not going to be much help either.
"Mrs. Fitzwilliams, do you have a ladder?" I asked.
"A ladder? Oh yes. In my garage." She stretched out, felt the thick padding on the lounge, and seemed to settle in a bit deeper.
"You stay there," I said. "We'll get it."
Adam gave me a hint of a smile and followed me out of the yard and around the corner, and we found the ladder in the back of the tidy two-car garage. Adam hefted it over his shoulder, and I couldn't help but notice how gracefully he moved.
"Is that going to be tall enough?" I asked, walking beside him. My legs were loosening up, and walking wasn't as much of an effort now. But I did feel a slight cool breeze against my skin from the hole in my inseam.
"Should be. I'm surprised your ladder didn't split in two, it's so old. You shouldn't have been climbing on that."
"It was all I had, and there was a dog stuck in a tree, who really didn't want to be there," I said.
He nodded. "That dog gets out of his yard all the time and gets into all sorts of trouble."
Winslow greeted our return with another mournful whine as Adam set up the ladder below the branch I'd been stranded on. Then he
"Well, that is interesting," he said in a rich baritone that at any other moment would have melted my insides a little. "Hello again, Meri."
He looked beyond me and nodded at the dog that was still frozen to the branch about three feet above me.
"That looks like Winslow," he said.
I twisted my head to look at him again. "You know him?"
"He's one of my patients. So how is it you treed the dog?"
Adam picked up the broken ladder and tried to set it up, despite the wonky top step.
"I didn't tree the dog. The dog treed a cat and then got carried away."
"That's my Tilly up there," Mrs. Fitzwilliams said, peering up into the branches. "Can you get her down?"
Adam peered up into the tree, and then his lips softened a little. He was wearing a dark-blue T-shirt and jeans—all of it fitting him very nicely.
"Oh, sure. I see," he said. "Is there a mouse up higher, above the cat?"
I laughed, but even that small movement made the nail poke me in the leg again. "Ouch."
"What hurts?" he asked, taking a couple steps up the ladder and testing whether it would hold his weight. I didn't have much confidence in it, since it didn't hold mine, but he made his way to the third step.
"There's a nail in the branch, and it's caught on my jeans. If I move, the nail pokes my leg."
Adam found the spot where the nail had pierced my pants. "You have no idea how nice it is to be able to get an answer to that question, for a change."
I continued to cling to the tree while trying not to think about how I could feel the heat from his hands through the fabric. It took him less than a minute to free my leg. Then he stepped down and stood below me.
"If you drop your legs, I'll help you down," he said.
I tried to loosen my legs, but they were cramped, and it took some effort and more than one groan to unwrap my grip. Once my legs were down, Adam wrapped an arm around me and gently lowered me to the ground. He set me on my feet and waited until I stopped swaying before letting go.
"Are you okay? Can you stand?"
"I think so," I said and immediately regretted my quick response, because he let go of me and went back to the spot below the dog.
He put his hands on his hips and looked up, and Winslow looked down with a whine. I stretched my legs and tried to walk without looking like a cowpoke in an old western.
"How do we get the dog down now?" Mrs. Fitzwilliams asked from her perch on the chaise lounge on the small deck. I was certain she was using the royal we as she looked awfully comfortable in the padded chair, and she was probably not going to be much help either.
"Mrs. Fitzwilliams, do you have a ladder?" I asked.
"A ladder? Oh yes. In my garage." She stretched out, felt the thick padding on the lounge, and seemed to settle in a bit deeper.
"You stay there," I said. "We'll get it."
Adam gave me a hint of a smile and followed me out of the yard and around the corner, and we found the ladder in the back of the tidy two-car garage. Adam hefted it over his shoulder, and I couldn't help but notice how gracefully he moved.
"Is that going to be tall enough?" I asked, walking beside him. My legs were loosening up, and walking wasn't as much of an effort now. But I did feel a slight cool breeze against my skin from the hole in my inseam.
"Should be. I'm surprised your ladder didn't split in two, it's so old. You shouldn't have been climbing on that."
"It was all I had, and there was a dog stuck in a tree, who really didn't want to be there," I said.
He nodded. "That dog gets out of his yard all the time and gets into all sorts of trouble."
Winslow greeted our return with another mournful whine as Adam set up the ladder below the branch I'd been stranded on. Then he
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