To Catch a Treat by Linda O. Johnston

two had been discussing the situation—hopefully with no customers present.
    â€œI need to run,” I told Reed.
    â€œFine. Me too. But are Biscuit and you available to join Hugo and me for dinner tonight?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” I breathed. The idea sounded like a lifebuoy thrown at me to save my sanity.
    Bad analogy, I realized immediately, considering how Ada had died.
    â€œWe’ll talk later, decide where to go.”
    We said goodbye, and I hung up.
    I stood up straighter, needing at least to act around my employees as if I was okay. “I guess you heard what I was talking about with Reed.”
    â€œWhat else would you be discussing?” Dinah spoke first. “We were waiting on some customers in the Barkery and when they left, I watched out the window and happened to see those two cops leave Icing. Were they asking you questions this time, too?”
    Dinah had been one of my assistants when I was interrogated after the last murder. And with her glistening blue eyes wide and focused on me, I could almost see her mind churning away. Had she already come up with some kind of related story plot?
    â€œI think they’re trying to talk to everyone who was at the resort bar last night,” I said. “Ada was there.”
    â€œAlive?” Vicky’s black eyebrows were arched high above her deep brown eyes, enough to be seen over the tops of her thick glasses. She wasn’t my prettiest helper but she was smart, planned things well, and knew the retail business. She was mid-thirties and new to Knobcone Heights, although she’d apparently lived in nearby Lake Arrowhead for most of her life. The clothing store she’d worked in for years had closed and she’d wanted to try something different, so here she was. And she’d already started working on the schedule I’d asked her to prepare today.
    â€œYes,” I said. “I don’t know how long she was there, let alone what happened to her.”
    â€œWe can guess part of it,” Dinah said. “Or at least what the cops think, after that argument your brother mentioned.”
    â€œI’m not guessing anything.” I looked from her face to Vicky’s and back again. “That’s just speculation. What the authorities need is some hard evidence, or eyewitness testimony beyond that argument, or something to really prove, if Ada was murdered, who actually did it.” I knew I sounded preachy as I glared at them, but these two hadn’t even been around for the argument, let alone anything else connected with what had happened—at least not as far as I knew.
    â€œOh.” Vicky looked down at the floor, clearly uncomfortable.
    â€œHmmm,” Dinah said. “What if the killer was someone like one of us, who didn’t even seem to know Ada Arnist? Her family has some connection to this town, though, including that big vacation house. What if—”
    â€œIt’s fine to plot a book you want to write,” I interrupted. “But please do that on your own time. We have some more dog biscuits to bake—ones with cheese.”
    We actually had plenty, but I hadn’t heard the bells in either shop ring and I wanted to get my assistants busy with what they were really supposed to be doing here.
    I was sure that, like it or not, I’d be spending too much time myself considering who could have killed Ada.

    I was glad when Reed offered to pick Biscuit and me up that evening.
    He arrived a little after six, when my shops were closed and my assistants gone for the day. We’d decided to go to Arrowhead Diner, one of our favorite eating places. It was, unsurprisingly, near Lake Arrowhead, a diner car converted long ago into a restaurant. It was a popular family-style restaurant with an outdoor eating area that welcomed dogs.
    It was also a good place to go to flee Knobcone Heights for a while, even though I really liked my town … most of the time.
    We now