Death in a Turkey Town (Chloe Boston Mystery, Book 3) by Melanie Jackson

By Melanie Jackson

An overturned truck has left wild turkeys working unfastened in desire Falls. Chloe Boston, unofficial detective and meter maid, is determined the duty of rounding them up. whereas Chloe is searching turkeys she stumbles on a homicide. the executive desires either turkeys and killer rounded up by way of Thanksgiving. Can Chloe do the very unlikely and likewise be maid of honor at her cousin's marriage ceremony whilst the groom is her major suspect?

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Additional resources for Death in a Turkey Town (Chloe Boston Mystery, Book 3)

Sample text

Standing beneath the only lamp on the street, Sherlock Holmes was smoking his pipe. Edging our way closer in the shadows and crouching there, we quickly perceived that the situation was an impossible one. As long as Holmes was planted squarely opposite the professor's front door, we could not hope to enter unobserved except by a diversion; what that diversion might be we neither of us could imagine. In low whispers we held a brief consultation. The strategy of retreating to the street behind the house and entering through the back door was raised, but several arguments militated against such a ruse.

Toby knew me and rushed forth, straining at his lead and wagging his stringy tail with ferocious energy and good will. I responded by presenting him with a lump of sugar, brought for the purpose—a regular feature of our reunions. As usual, I offered to pay Sherman in advance, and, in accordance with his own way of doing things—at least where Sherlock Holmes was concerned—he refused. "You keep him long as you need him," he insisted as he escorted me to the door, pushing a chicken aside on the way.

I responded by presenting him with a lump of sugar, brought for the purpose—a regular feature of our reunions. As usual, I offered to pay Sherman in advance, and, in accordance with his own way of doing things—at least where Sherlock Holmes was concerned—he refused. "You keep him long as you need him," he insisted as he escorted me to the door, pushing a chicken aside on the way. "We'll settle it up later. Good-bye, Toby! Here's a good doggy! Give my best to Mr. " he called out to me as I, with Toby in tow, stumbled towards the cab.

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