Chapter 2 — Dropping the Bags
Samantha stepped cautiously past the hallway archway.
She kept her eyes locked on the sticky pink smudges leading away from the kitchen.
Clara followed close behind, grumbling under her breath about ruined party schedules and wasted effort.
The paw prints turned sharply toward the pantry.
A low, contented sound echoed from the dark corner near the utility closet.
Samantha held up a hand to signal Clara to stop.
She knelt down on the hardwood floor to get a better look.
A patch of thick, bright pink frosting coated the baseboard.
Fresh dog hair was embedded directly into the sweet smear.
Samantha looked down the trail and spotted a golden tail wagging rhythmically against the cabinet base.
Barnaby sat right next to the dog water bowl.
His muzzle was completely coated in sugary pink paste.
A generous dollop of red filling still hung stubbornly from his lower left whisker.
The golden retriever let out a soft whine of satisfaction.
He dipped his tongue out and gave the floor one final, enthusiastic lick.
Samantha turned her head back toward the kitchen island.
She stared hard at the height of the counter, then back down at the golden retriever.
Clara pushed past Samantha to see what was blocking the hallway.
She gasped loudly as Barnaby turned his head to greet them.
Clara pointed an accusing finger at the counter, demanding to know how else the cake could be destroyed if the dog was too short to reach the top.