A Zen For Murder (Mooseamuck Island Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) by Leighann Dobbs Read Free Book Online Page A

murderous act? And, if so, what had he done with it afterwards?

    ***

    The Barrett family had settled Mooseamuck Island back in the 1600s and had once owned most of the land. Over the years, parcels had been sold off, and even the old family hunting camp—the first structure on the island—had been sold by Kenneth to Zoila, less than two years ago.
    The Barretts had kept the best piece of land for themselves, which included a mansion—the largest house on the island—situated on a point of land that was surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean on three sides.
    Dom pulled his Smart Car around the circular drive and got out. A fountain splashed melodically in the middle of the driveway as Dom walked to the homes impressive, double-wide oak doors. He rang the bell.
    After a few seconds, the door swung open and a man in a black jacket looked out at him.
    “Yes?”  
    Dom stared back. A butler, in this day and age? People still have them?
    “Hi,” Dom said. “I’d like to see Kenneth Barrett, please.”
    “Master Kenneth is in the stables around back.” The butler leaned out onto the step and pointed around the left side of the house, where Dom could see a fancy carriage house.
    “Okay. Thanks.” Dom turned and headed toward the stables, enjoying the view of rolling hills giving way to the cliffs and the Atlantic below. As he neared the carriage house, he heard a loud clatter and then cursing. Peeking his head in, he saw Kenneth in one of the stalls, standing amidst a messy pile of wooden-handled stall mucking tools.  
    “Ahem.” Dom cleared his throat and Kenneth snapped his head up.  
    “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
    “You muck out the stalls yourself?” Dom asked incredulously. He couldn’t picture Kenneth, who looked like a male model with his swoop of blond hair, blue eyes and Kirk Douglas chin doing this type of work.
    Kenneth shrugged. “Sometimes. I find this type of work keeps me grounded.”
    Dom nodded, inhaling the earthy scent of leather, hay and horse manure. He noticed that even the stables had the air of the ‘well-to-do’. The saddles and bridles neatly hung on the walls were of the finest quality. Even the barn implements piled in front of Kenneth had matching gold and maroon adornment on the handles—a color combination that was repeated in the rosettes on the bridles and the coat of arms that hung over the doorway.  
    “What can I do for you?” Kenneth worked his way out of the stall and motioned for Dom to follow him down the aisle. A palomino snickered as they passed her stall, her blonde mane swaying like corn silk as she bobbed her heard up and down. Kenneth stopped for a minute to stroke her velvety nose. Dom noticed the horses were in tip-top shape. This one was freshly groomed, her saddle shined and polished.  
    “In the diner, you mentioned that you talked to Zoila yesterday and she seemed agitated. I wanted to ask you more about that,” Dom said.
    Kenneth stopped and frowned at Dom. “Why? The police have already been here.”
    “Of course,” Dom replied. “But I’m not with them.”
    “Oh, no? Then why are you asking?”
    “Let’s just say I want to make sure us islanders get a fair shake. Zambuco isn’t from the island, so …” Dom let his voice trail off, taking a moment to glance down at Kenneth's shoes. They were square toed—not a match to the footprint at the zen garden. Then again, this surely wasn't his only pair of shoes.
    Kenneth stared at him for a few seconds, then Dom saw something change in his eyes. He nodded and spread his arms. “I don’t know much. Like I said, Zoila lived in my family's old hunting camp. She was doing some minor renovations and found some pictures she wanted to give me. She also wanted to keep the history, so she asked me to come out and go over the various additions to the camp. She was interested in what year each room was added ... that sort of thing.  
    Dom gave an encouraging nod. “And ...”
    “Well,