Peg and Rose Play the Ponies

Book 3: Senior Sleuths Mystery

by Laurien Berenson

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Animal Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

Murder, She Wrote meets The Odd Couple in award-winning author Laurien Berenson’s brand-new mystery series, spun off from her much-loved Melanie Travis Canine series and featuring Melanie’s elderly aunts—tough-as-nails Peg and soft-spoken Rose—who’ll put their differences aside to stop a killer, if they don’t throttle each other first. The latest installment will tickle all cozy lovers, especially fans of “senior” sleuths in the tradition of Miss Marple and Jessica Fletcher.

From the moment Peg arrives in Kentucky, dragging level-headed Rose along for the week-long excursion proves a smart move. Because after she brings her canine expertise to prestigious conformation shows, next on the agenda is selling her Thoroughbred broodmare's offspring at a high-stakes yearling sale. And when the ladies arrive to meet the young horse at Six Oaks farm, something seems off about the place—especially Jim Grable, the yearling manager with serious anger issues . . . 
 
While Peg feels comfortable again judging pedigree pups over Labor Day Weekend, Rose judges a shocking new turn of events. Jim has been found dead on the farm and a young employee needs help convincing police she didn’t kill him. As disjointed clues lead to a list of misdeeds swirling around Six Oaks, everyone connected to Jim agrees on one thing—he had it coming . . .
 
It isn’t until Peg guides her colt’s journey to the auction ring that she grasps how much Jim had been manipulating the process behind the scenes. Now, unable to rely on her instincts alone, Peg must also trust in Rose’s talents to expose the real culprit. But the two need to have each other’s backs before tangling with a killer—a deadly criminal set on halting their dog and pony show for good!

Release date: June 25, 2024

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

“Have I ever mentioned that I own a horse?” Peg

Turnbull asked.

She’d arrived at the Gallagher House to visit her sister-in-law, Rose Donovan, and had been directed around the back of the narrow, three-story building in downtown Stamford, Connecticut. Originally a home, the house now served as a women’s shelter that was owned and operated by Rose and her husband, Peter.

“No, you haven’t.” Rose looked up as Peg walked around the side of the building and used the question to announce her presence. Trust Peg to make an unusual entrance.

Rose was a slender woman in her late sixties, with angular features and short gray hair that she wore tucked behind her ears. At the moment, she was holding a rake in her hands. Peg had no idea why.

The tiny yard behind the shelter consisted mostly of hard packed dirt with a few scraggly tufts of grass. The only spot of color was a row of tomato plants growing near the tall fence that separated the property from its neighbor. Peg couldn’t see anything in the area that called for the implementation of a rake.

Then again, she’d just arrived. Perhaps enlightenment would be forthcoming.

“And now that you are mentioning it,” Rose continued, “I’m not sure I believe you. I’ve been to your house on numerous occasions. If you had a horse there, I’m quite certain I would have noticed.”

“Lucky Luna doesn’t live with me,” Peg replied. “In fact, she doesn’t even live in Connecticut.”

“Good.” Rose nodded. “At your age, you shouldn’t be galloping around anyway.”

Peg was in her seventies, a few years older than Rose. Apart from that, the two women had few similarities. Peg was taller in stature and broad through the shoulders. Not only did she possess a bigger build, Peg also had the forceful personality to match.

“No one is galloping anywhere on Luna,” Peg said. “She’s a Thoroughbred broodmare, boarding at a farm in Kentucky. Every year or so, she produces a foal.”

“That sounds like more than one horse,” Rose commented. “Years add up, you know.”

Peg’s lips flattened. They were both well aware of that.

“Are your foals adding up too?”

“No, and that’s actually why I’m here.”

“So there’s a reason for your visit.” Rose smiled to soften the words, which had come out sounding sharper than she’d intended. Then she abruptly went still. “Please tell me you’re not offering me a horse.”

“Would you accept it if I were?”

“Of course not.” Rose was half-afraid Peg might be serious. When she was around, you never knew what might happen next.

Though they’d been related for more than fifty years, Rose and Peg had spent the majority of that time pointedly not speaking to each other. A few months earlier, they’d finally managed to rectify that situation. Even so, their relationship wasn’t all smooth sailing. Dealing with Peg, Rose often felt like she was rocketing down the slope of a rather steep learning curve.

“Not even a cute foal?” Peg prodded. “Maybe an equine companion for Marmalade?”

Marmalade was Rose’s kitten. What Peg thought Marmie might do with a baby horse, Rose had no idea. And certainly no desire to find out.

“Marmie gets plenty of companionship from me and Peter. Not to mention the women who come through the shelter,” she said. “Now stop teasing and tell me why you’re really here.”

Two plastic lawn chairs had been placed side by side in the middle of the yard. Peg took one and gestured toward the other. “Put down your rake and let’s sit for a minute.”

Rose looked down at the tool as if she’d forgotten she was holding it. She leaned it against the fence, then walked over to join Peg.

“What were you doing with that thing anyway?” Peg asked, as Rose swished her lightweight cotton skirt to one side and sat down too.

“Raking leaves.”

Peg frowned. She let her gaze travel slowly around the enclosed space. There were no leaves on the ground. It was much too early for that. “What leaves?”

“You know.” Rose flapped a hand in the air. “In the yard. I’m tidying up.”

“First of all, it’s barely September. And second”—did Peg really have to point this out?—“you don’t have a tree.”

“Well, no. But our neighbor does.”

Both women glanced at the large maple next door. Its spreading branches crossed over the wall between the two properties to shade a portion of the shelter’s yard. Rose nodded as if she’d scored a major point.

Peg wasn’t having it. “Yes, I see a tree. I can also see perfectly well that its leaves are still attached.”

“You know me. I like to be proactive.”

Peg stared. “I believe that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. What’s the real reason you’re out here brandishing a garden tool?”

Rose sighed and rolled her shoulders. “Peter’s holding a group counseling session in the living room this afternoon. This one’s about managing stress and conflict resolution. As you might imagine, sometimes things get a little intense. To stay out of the way, I decided to come out here and make myself useful.”

Useful. Peg eyed the rake again. She didn’t think so.

“Also, I love my husband dearly, but sometimes I just need a little space,” Rose admitted. “You know?”

A nod seemed called for, so Peg obliged. But she didn’t know. Not really.

Her decades-long marriage to Rose’s older brother, Max, had been an utterly blissful period in her life. She and Max were soulmates, content to share everything with each other. They’d lived, loved, and worked as a team. At least that was how Peg—who’d lost her husband to a heart attack ten years earlier—remembered that time now.

“Space,” she said briskly. “I can help with that.”

“How?”

“I have an upcoming judging assignment at the Bluegrass Cluster in Lexington, Kentucky. That’s four back-to-back dog shows over Labor Day weekend.”

“Three days from now?”

“Indeed.” Peg nodded. “I’ll be judging the Non-Sporting Group on Saturday, then the Toy Group plus several Herding breeds on Sunday.”

Not long ago, that explanation would have sounded like gibberish to Rose. Now, sadly, she understood most of it. But that still didn’t offer a clue where she fit in.

“And?” she prompted.

“Remember Lucky Luna?”

“Of course I remember Lucky Luna. We were just talking about her two minutes ago.”

“The foal she produced last year is now a yearling.”

“As if I couldn’t do the math,” Rose muttered.

Peg ignored that and kept talking. “There are plenty of people who breed racehorses but have no interest in actually racing them. Those breeders sell their horses—usually when they’re yearlings—to people who don’t want to breed but do want to race.”

Rose peered over at her. “That sounds like the beginning of a riddle. Or maybe a joke. Is there a punchline coming?”

“No, but what is coming is the Keeneland September Yearling Sale. It’s the biggest sale of its kind in the world. And Lucky Luna’s yearling is entered.”

“To sell?” Rose guessed. She hoped she had that right.

“That’s the plan,” Peg confirmed. “In the time I’ve owned her, Luna has had two previous offspring go through the sale. The farm where she boards arranged everything for me and I watched the proceedings from afar on the Keeneland website. This time, with a judging assignment taking me to Lexington just a few days earlier, I intend to be on hand to observe the process in person. I thought you might want to go with me.”

Rose blinked slowly. “To Kentucky.”

“Right.”

“In three days,” she added.

“Actually one day,” Peg corrected. “I’m going to drive rather than fly, which means it will take us a day to get there. Plus, I’d like to arrive a day early so I can visit Six Oaks, the farm where Lucky Luna lives.”

One day!

Rose gulped. “Let me think about it.”

“Oh pish. As you just pointed out, there’s no time for that. Just say yes and pack your bags.”

“No,” Rose said firmly. “You can’t just spring something on me like that and expect me to agree right away.”

“Of course I can. I just did. Besides, you said yourself that you wouldn’t mind getting away for a bit.”

“I did not.”

“You did.” Peg sounded complacent, as if she was sure she’d already won. “I heard you. You said you needed some space.”

“Yes, space—like thirty feet. Not a thousand miles.”

“Actually, it’s closer to seven hundred and fifty.”

As if that was the point. Were Rose’s teeth clamped together? It felt like they might be. Interacting with Peg often had that effect on her.

“What about your Poodles?” she asked, stalling for time. “Who will look after them?”

Peg blithely waved away that objection. “Hope will come with us, of course.”

At the age of eleven, Hope was Peg’s oldest Standard Poodle. She was also the one who was almost constantly at her side. At one time, Peg and Max’s kennel had been filled with black Standard Poodles. Their Cedar Crest dogs had been known worldwide for their excellent quality and superb temperaments. They’d successfully exhibited their Poodles at numerous dog shows nearly every week of the year.

Now the kennel was gone and Peg was too busy with her judging career to breed more than the occasional litter. In addition to Hope, there were just two other Standard Poodles in her house. Coral and Joker were both young dogs. Coral had recently finished her championship, and Joker, who’d just turned a year old, was awaiting his turn to get back into the show ring.

“What about the other ones?” Rose asked.

Of course she remembered their names. Peg spoke about her Poodles often enough. She even made them sound like they were members of the family. Which irked Rose more than it should have—enough to make her want to annoy Peg by pretending ignorance.

“Coral and Joker,” Peg supplied, rising to the jab as Rose had known she would. “They’ll stay home with my dog sitter, Colleen. The Poodles adore her, which is a good thing considering how often I need to travel to shows. So everything’s taken care of except you. I’m still waiting for an answer. Are you coming with me or not?”

Rose was running out of excuses, and they both knew it.

“I’ll have to talk to Peter,” she said. “And check my calendar. You know I often have other commitments . . .”

Trust Rose to want to arrange the fun out of everything, Peg thought. The woman was entirely too methodical. Maybe even a bit of a plodder. Peg, by comparison, was a free spirit, happy to be always on the go.

“What you really mean is that you need time to think of another reason to say no.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Rose frowned. “That’s not what I said.”

“Said about what?” Peter asked. He closed the shelter’s door behind him and started down the back stairs. A thoughtful and deliberate man who wore his years well, he was stepping carefully to avoid the ginger-and-white kitten that was bouncing around his feet. Peter’s warm brown eyes twinkled behind tortoiseshell glasses as he looked over at the two women. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Peg said. “Please join us. I have a question for you.”

Peter unfolded a third lawn chair that was leaning against the back of the building. He carried it over and put it beside theirs. As he sat down, Marmalade reared up to grab Peter’s pant leg and use it as a scratching post. He gently disentangled the kitten’s tiny claws, then turned to Peg. “I’m all ears.”

Rose quickly jumped in before Peg had a chance to speak. “Peg’s going on a road trip to Kentucky. It sounds as though she’ll be gone for at least a week. She thinks I should go with her, but I told her I have responsibilities here.”

“You do,” Peter replied carefully. “But there’s nothing that can’t be set aside long enough for you to take a small trip. I think you should go.”

“You do?” Rose was surprised.

A few weeks earlier, she’d been involved in a serious accident. A glancing blow from a speeding car had sent her careening onto the hard pavement outside the shelter. Rose’s injuries were mostly healed now, but Peter still continued to hover over her as though she were made of glass. She knew he meant well, but his solicitousness was beginning to drive her a little crazy. Under the circumstances, she’d just assumed he’d take her side.

“When are you leaving?” he asked Peg.

“The day after tomorrow. Up and out at the crack of dawn. I’ve made the trip before and it can be done in a single day as long as we don’t dawdle.”

Rose snorted under her breath. Peg drove like a speed fiend. Dawdling wasn’t an option when she was behind the wheel.

Peter turned back to his wife. “This sounds like a wonderful idea to me. A nice, relaxing vacation is just what you need.”

“Relaxing?” Rose said skeptically. “With Peg?”

“I can be relaxing,” Peg said.

Nobody even bothered to reply to that.

Instead Peter changed the subject. “What’s the purpose of your trip?”

“Dogs and horses,” Peg said. “I’ll be judging at two dog shows, then attending a Thoroughbred sale.”

“It turns out Peg owns several racehorses,” Rose added.

Peter had seen a great number of things in his life. He’d first been a priest, then a college professor, a missionary, and now the proprietor of a women’s shelter. Not much surprised him anymore. This did. It was also a topic he knew almost nothing about.

“Racehorses?” he echoed faintly. “How unusual.”

“The first one came to me as an unexpected bequest,” Peg told him. “As you might imagine, I could hardly refuse.”

“No, of course not.” He pondered that, then added, “Are you selling a horse at the sale?”

“I am. It’s the first time I’ll have the opportunity to attend in person, and I’m looking forward to observing the process. I think Rose might enjoy it too.”

“Except that I’m too busy to go,” Rose said.

“Doing what, exactly?” Peg inquired.

“Cooking, cleaning, keeping the books . . .”

“Maura can handle everything but the accounting,” Peter said. Their live-in housekeeper, Maura Nettles, was a whiz at keeping things running smoothly. “And that can wait until you get back.”

“What about painting the third-floor hallway and arranging to have the gutters cleaned?”

“I’m sure Jason is on top of both those things.” Hiring Jason Abercrombie as the shelter’s new handyman had been an excellent decision. Among other things, it meant that Peter now had more free time to devote to his counseling sessions.

Rose blew out a breath. “So what you’re saying is that I’m superfluous?”

“No.” Peter’s tone was gentle. “What I’m saying is that everyone here cares about you. And that we’re ready to support you in any way you need. Your body may be almost recovered, but mental trauma can linger too. It might be good for you to get away and enjoy a change of scenery.”

“Now you’re just ganging up on me,” Rose said irritably.

Peter shook his head. “We just want what’s best for you. That’s all.”

When he put it like that, there wasn’t much else Rose could say. She looked at Peg and nodded.

“I’m glad that’s settled.” Peg quickly stood up before Rose could change her mind. “You’ll see,” she told her. “This trip is going to be epic.”

“I’ve never been to the middle of the country before,” Rose said.

Earlier she’d been the one driving. Now it was Peg’s turn. That afforded Rose the opportunity to gaze avidly out the minivan’s side window as they sped through central Kentucky. She marveled at the wide expanse of blue sky above them. Though it was late in the day, the sun was still high. It shined down on vast acres of open land, mostly green fields and gently rolling hills.

“I visited here several years ago, just after I inherited Lucky Luna,” Peg said. “Kentucky is a beautiful state.”

She paused to peek at the back seat where Hope was asleep with her muzzle nestled between her front paws. Now that she was older, her muzzle had turned gray and her eyesight wasn’t as sharp as it had once been. Even so, the big Poodle was content. As long as she and Peg were together, Hope knew she would always be all right.

“I discovered that. Though the pictures online didn’t do justice to the reality.” Rose was still gazing from side to side. “Of course you only gave me one day’s notice to research the state, so I might have missed something.”

“I doubt it.” Peg glanced over. When Rose had a task to do, she was nothing if not thorough. “You’re probably better informed than I am. Tell me three fun facts about Kentucky.”

“Number one, it’s the horse capital of the world.”

“That doesn’t count.” Peg scoffed. “Everybody knows that.”

“I didn’t,” Rose said, then tried again. “There are more barrels of bourbon in the state than people.”

Peg laughed. “Really?”

“Really. And actually, Kentucky isn’t a state, it’s a commonwealth. It’s also the only commonwealth that isn’t one of the thirteen original colonies.”

“Meaning there are others?”

“Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Virginia,” Rose told her.

“This is all very interesting.” Peg loved learning new things. “Tell me more.”

“The world’s longest cave system is here. It’s called Mammoth Cave and there are four hundred miles of interconnected caves.”

“I’d love to see that.” Peg turned on her signal and changed lanes. They were reaching the outskirts of Fayette County, where Lexington was located, and she didn’t want to miss a turn. “Is it near Lexington?”

Rose didn’t know. She got out her phone and looked it up. “Unfortunately, no. It’s several hours away, heading in the other direction.”

“That’s a shame. We’ll have to add it to our itinerary next time.”

“Next time?” Rose looked up. “There’s going to be a next time?”

“I should think so. After all, why not? As you’re so aptly illustrating, Kentucky has a lot to commend it.”

When the minivan slowed for the exit, Hope lifted her head. She blinked several times, then sat up and looked around as though she was trying to orient herself.

“I’m right here,” Peg said gently. She reached a hand back between the front seats, running her fingers through the dense dark curls on Hope’s shoulder. “I know it’s been a long day. You’ve been very patient and we’re almost there.”

“Eyes on the road,” Rose snapped. Her gaze went to the speedometer and she winced. “Hands on the wheel.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Peg turned back to face forward. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve been driving for nearly six decades.”

“Somehow I don’t find that nearly as reassuring as you might think.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t get a driver’s license until you were in your fifties. Those of us with years of experience on the road know how to do two things at once.”

Rose sighed. It wasn’t the first time Peg had lectured her about her shortcomings. Most were due to the fact that Rose had spent the majority of her adult life as a Sister of Divine Mercy. She refused to dwell on the things she’d missed during her years in the convent. After all, that time had produced benefits and blessings too. Nevertheless, it sometimes felt as though Rose was being forced to play catch-up now.

She hardly needed Peg to point that out for her, however.

“It’s past time for you to get over the fact that I used to be a nun,” she said firmly.

“I don’t think so,” Peg retorted. “You’re still too prim and proper for your own good. ‘Hands on the wheel’ indeed.”

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a cautious approach—”

“Oh please. You need to learn how to cut loose and live a little.”

Rose swiveled in Peg’s direction. “I left the convent. I married Peter. I’ve even managed to come to terms with all your years of rude behavior. To use your terminology, I am cutting loose.”

“Oh.” Peg considered that. Belatedly it occurred to her that she might have sounded like a bit of a bully. Which hadn’t been her intention at all.

What she really wanted was for Rose to take a break from following every single rule in creation. Was that too much to ask? Maybe so. Because it suddenly felt as though the tenuous détente that had allowed them to reshape their former relationship into something more agreeable was more fragile than she’d thought. Peg wasn’t pleased by that realization.

“Okay,” she said. “Good for you.”

“What’s good for me?” Rose’s eyes narrowed. Peg’s abrupt capitulation had made her suspicious.

“What you said.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Now Rose was baffled. “You started it.”

“And I’m ending it,” Peg said. “I apologize.”

“For what?”

Peg had hoped Rose wouldn’t ask. Because, truthfully, she wasn’t entirely sure. She tossed out the first thing that came to mind. “For being wrong.”

Rose didn’t look convinced. “I thought you were never wrong.”

“I do my best,” said Peg.

“So do I,” Rose shot back.

“Then we’re in agreement. Right?”

Rose nodded—grudgingly—and hoped that was good enough to appease Peg. She still had no idea what they were talking about.

On the seat behind them, Hope stood up. She pressed her nose against the window and began to wag her pomponned tail. They were driving past a field that held a small herd of mares and foals.

Peg smiled at the sight. A moment later, Rose did too.

Welcome to Kentucky, Peg thought.

Peg had made reservations at a hotel that was less than a mile from the Kentucky Horse Park, site of the upcoming dog shows. The location was also an easy drive to Midway, the tiny and utterly charming town where Lucky Luna boarded at Six Oaks Farm. With multiple dog shows in town, the clerk at the front desk didn’t even blink when she saw Hope. Instead, she simply handed Peg and Rose their key cards and directed them around the corner to their adjoining rooms on the first floor.

While Peg took Hope outside for a walk, Rose called Peter to check in and tell him they’d arrived safely. He assured her that everything was under control at home,. . .