The Murder in Skoghall (Illustrated) (The Skoghall Mystery Series Book 1) by Alida Winternheimer Page B

inside. Jess watched him disappear into the house, feeling the loss of something small but real.
    “Come on, Tyler,” Dave shouted. “Let’s get this baby out in the sun. See what we have to work with.”
    Jess knelt in front of the stove, small rocks, clots of dirt, and scraggly blades of grass dug in, imprinting her flesh. When Jess stood up to stretch and crack the joints of her hips, she had to reach down and brush several small pebbles from her knees. The stove had collected layer upon layer of soot and grime after its many years in the smokehouse. Her rubber gloves were mostly black and somehow she’d smeared soot across her tank top. Shakti roused herself from a nap at the base of the sugar maple, stretched, and picked up her ball. She trotted over to Jess and sat, her tail thumping the ground.
    Jess put her hand on the blue rubber protruding from Shakti’s mouth. The puppy seemed to be smiling even as she clamped down on the ball. “Give,” Jess said, and Shakti shook her head side to side. Jess had to pry Shakti’s mouth open to release the ball. As soon as she was relieved of the ball, Shakti jumped sideways and back, took a bow, and wagged her tail expectantly. Jess threw it toward the house and Shakti tore after it with remarkable speed for one on such short legs. Jess couldn’t help laughing any time she saw Shakti run, especially from behind. Her rump swung side to side and her tail stuck straight off her back like a fuzzy handle.
    Tyler thrust himself onto the porch and let the screen door slam behind him. He lumbered down the steps like something had just given out. Jess meant to yell a warning, but her mouth got it wrong. She gasped and stuttered ineffectually, one hand waving at Tyler and the other at Shakti.
    Tyler clutched at his back as he lurched off the bottom step, his foot landing just to the side of Shakti’s head. She scrambled, her hips slapping Tyler’s booted ankle as she tripped over his foot. Tyler stumbled, cursed loudly, and landed on his knees in the dirt. He rose with surprising haste and furiously pushed his hair away from his face.
    Jess wanted to scoop Shakti off the ground and check her for wounds or soothe her after a fright or whatever worried parents did, but Shakti was already carrying the ball with a prance and a wiggle in her step. “Are you all right?” she asked Tyler, hoping he hadn’t noticed her impulse to comfort the dog first.
    “I’ve got to get back to the café.”
    “Oh…all right. What’s going on?”
    “Nothing. I guess my brick laying isn’t up to Beckett’s high standards.” He stared at the house, his face constricted.
    Jess didn’t know whether it was fury or pain wrenching his features. She touched his cheek and turned his gaze back toward her with a gentle pressure.
    “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” He pecked at her, a kiss so fast she didn’t have a chance to respond, and went to his truck.
    Jess watched him drive away before calling Shakti to her and going inside. She found Beckett and Dave bent over their work in the music room. Dave’s fair skin had flushed a nice red and the back of his shirt showed the damp V of perspiration. He sat back on his haunches and rested his hands on his thighs while Beckett set the mortar between two bricks.
    “What happened?” Jess asked.
    “Phew!” Dave said. “And people say I have a temper.”
    She waited for more, but Dave just sat there, looking between her and Beckett. Beckett finished with the brick and sat back, taking his time to look at Jess. “Tyler didn’t like hearing that his work could be improved.”
    “That sounds like half the story. Or less.”
    “Tyler was sloppy with the mortar,” Dave said, “and Beckett pointed it out to him. Standard pissing contest, that’s all.”
    “Thank you, Dave,” Beckett said. “How concise.”
    Dave shrugged. “I thought it was obvious.”
    “Jess, I think you should be careful.”
    “What does that mean?” She set Shakti down and