Original Secrets - A Whispering Pines Mystery, Book 3 (PAPERBACK)

Chapter 1
MEEKA SAT AND WATCHED ME, her head cocked curiously, as I sat on the edge of the pier and placed my feet into the well of the kayak. The last thing I wanted to do was to have to haul myself back out of the boat after managing to get into it, so before making another move, I went through the mental checklist in my head: Dry bag with cargo shorts, T-shirt, and uniform shirt, check. Hiking shoes and socks, check. Keys for the station, check. Notebook and pencil, small flashlight, pepper spray, handcuffs with keys, check. Holster with Glock, check.
Funny, if someone didn’t know I was the sheriff, they’d wonder what exactly I was planning to do with all that.
“Okay. I think I’ve got it all,” I told my dog. “If I forgot anything, you get to come back for it.”
She yawned and turned away, my threats having no impact on her.
Using my feet, I held the orange and yellow kayak tight against the piling then lowered myself down onto the seat with shaking arms. I really needed to get back to doing the upper body workouts I used to do, pushups and triceps dips in particular. My heart raced, sure the boat would tip as soon as I released my white-knuckled grip on the edge of the pier. This fear was not unfounded; it had happened before. Three times. Today, no problem. I was securely on the seat, my feet resting comfortably on the foot pegs. Cheers went off in my head for the accomplishment. Then I realized I’d forgotten one item not on my sheriff list.
“Meeka, can you push the paddle over to me?”
The little West Highland White Terrier looked from my pointing finger to the double-bladed paddle sitting about six inches out of my reach. She snorted, a mocking sound that said she wondered just what she had done to deserve me as her owner. Using her nose, she pushed the paddle one inch, and then another inch, then looked at me and wagged her tail as though expecting a reward.
“Good, girl. Keep going.” I stretched my arm and wiggled my fingers. “I can’t reach it yet.”
She repeated the process until I could finally hook my fingertips around the shaft.
“Success! I knew we could do it. What a team.”
“Jayne, you could’ve called for help.”
I spun to look over my right shoulder, causing the kayak to tip precariously to the left. Friend, business partner, and man hoping for more than friendship, Tripp Bennett was standing thirty feet away with his arms crossed over his lean, muscular chest.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Here?” He pointed at the ground near his feet. “A few seconds. I did, however, enjoy the entire show from the far side of the boathouse.”
“You were spying on me?”
“I wouldn’t call it spying. More like ensuring your safety in case you tipped. Again.”
“I do have on a life jacket.” I hooked my right thumb into the armhole of my yellow vest.

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