Frolicking with dogs is Melanie Travis’s idea of heaven. So when she’s invited to be a “puppy wrangler” at a benefit for a local dog rescue, the last thing she expects is to be chasing after a tricky killer ... As a busy mom and pedigree Poodle owner, Melanie has little time to spare. Still, she doesn’t mind helping out at Puppy Fest, an annual fundraiser to benefit Puppy Posse, a local dog rescue organization. Considering the venue—Belle Haven mansion, owned by wealthy philanthropist Leo Brody—it’s shaping up to be the can’t-miss charity event of the summer. Unfortunately, when Melanie’s breeding background lands her in the doghouse with Jane, Leo’s snappy daughter who runs the rescue, Melanie finds herself simultaneously managing Puppy Fest and the millionaire’s hopelessly fractious family. But once Puppy Fest kicks off, Leo is nowhere to be found—until Melanie discovers his current mistress crouching over his dead body. According to police, the father of nine’s severe nut allergy went into overdrive after he accidentally consumed a contaminated cookie. However, Libby, one of Leo’s children and a friend of Melanie’s Aunt Peg, believes someone deliberately put him down for good. And now, she’s begging a reluctant Melanie to unearth the secrets hidden by the Brody pack. But the closer Melanie gets to fetching answers, the higher the stakes become—and the more she realizes that she’s chasing a criminal who’s been groomed to win... LAURIEN BERENSON is an Agatha and Macavity nominee, winner of the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award, and four-time winner of the Maxwell Award, presented by the Dog Writers Association of America. She and her husband live on a farm in Kentucky surrounded by dogs and horses. Readers can visit her website at: www.LaurienBerenson.com. Murder at the Puppy Fest By Laurien Berenson KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP. Copyright © 2017 Laurien Berenson All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4967-0342-2 CHAPTER 1 "Hey!" cried Davey. "Did you see that?" Twelve years old and curious about everything, my son Davey doesn't miss a trick. I was driving. I had my eyes on the road ahead of us. I was also frowning as I ran through the day's shopping list in my mind. I'd picked up Davey at soccer camp an hour earlier, and we'd since made stops at the pharmacy, the hardware store, and the dry cleaner, before grabbing dinner supplies at the supermarket. Now that we were halfway home, I was beginning to suspect that I'd forgotten something vital. I glanced Davey's way. After a day spent running around in the hot summer sun, he'd been drowsy only moments earlier. Now he was sitting straight up in his seat, his hand thrust out the open window. To my surprise, he was gesturing frantically toward the other side of the road. That wasn't like Davey at all. Usually I'm the frantic one in the family. "See what?" I asked. "That car!" A dark green compact car was coming toward us in the opposite lane. As it flew past, I caught only a quick impression of a man hunched low over the steering wheel. A second person was sitting beside him in the passenger seat. Nothing about the small sedan struck me as notable. Ours were the only two vehicles on the quiet, suburban road. Even so, if Davey hadn't said something, I wouldn't have noticed it at all. "What about it?" I asked him. "Those guys. Didn't you see them? They just dumped that dog!" " What? " Suddenly, Davey wasn't the only one sitting up in his seat. He had my full attention now. "Mom, you have to pull over." I was already doing that. With blinker flicked on, I let the Volvo coast to the side of the road. "What dog? Where?" "Look. He's over there." There wasn't time for me to look at anything. Before the car had even stopped rolling, Davey was already throwing off his seat belt. With a burst of youthful agility, he opened his door and scrambled out. I hurried to follow suit. "Wait for me," I yelled after him. "Look both ways!" Right. Like that was happening. I caught up to him as he reached the grassy verge on the other side of the road and I grabbed his hand. "What?" Davey looked down in surprise. He held his younger brother Kevin's hand all the time. Mine, never. At his age, a gesture of affection like that has been beneath his dignity for several years. "Wait," I said quietly as I pulled Davey to a stop. "Give him a minute. We don't want to scare him." The dog was about twenty feet away from us, sitting on the narrow strip of grass between the road and an old stone wall. His front legs were splayed wide apart. His head hung low, and a long pink tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth as he panted heavily. The poor guy must have tried to chase after the car that had left him behind; he looked exhausted. He was small to medium in size and couldn't have weighed more than twenty pounds. His smooth coat was mostly white, dotted with black and brown spots. He had a rounded head and a skinny body. One ear stood straight up; the other hung down over hi