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    Case of the Rusty Sword
    Case of the Rusty Sword
    Case of the Rusty Sword
    Ebook242 pages3 hours

    Case of the Rusty Sword

    By Jeffrey Poole

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    About this ebook

    Zack and Jillian are making plans to build their dream home and to get started, the old farmhouse where they’ve been living is being razed. Things get a little complicated when the first bulldozer cut reveals a secret chamber under the existing house. What is the previously unknown space doing on his property, how long has it been there, and who arranged to hide it in that particular foundation?

    And—most mysteriously—how did a Civil War-era sword and other old artifacts get there? From the moment the corgis see the old artifact, Sherlock takes an interest and lets Zack know there’s a mystery here, one he and his canine companions will be working to solve!

    Readers are loving these indomitable dog sleuths. Meet Zack and the corgis, Sherlock and Watson, in this delightfully humorous series that pulls you right in.

    Praise for Jeffrey Poole and the Corgi Case Files:
    “I can't wait for the next book. I love mysteries and animals, so these books are perfect reading for me. Sherlock is a small furry Jessica Fletcher.” – H. Dudley, 5 stars online review

    “A great introduction to the characters in the Corgi Case Files mystery series. Sherlock is brilliant!” J.D. – 5 stars on Amazon (on Case of the One-Eyed Tiger)

    “The best thing--this guy loves the corgis, as I do, and he describes their behavior very well. Looking forward to future stories.” – 5 stars, Amazon

    “An intriguing story with a wonderful cast of characters. The plot was excellent and filled with twists and turns it kept my interest to the very end!” – 5 stars on Amazon

    “I absolutely love this series. If you like a good story, great characters and seriously smart and lovable canines, you’ll love this book. Start with the first book and work your way through the Corgi Case Files. They just keep getting better.” – K. Underwood, 5 stars online review

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherColumbine Publishing Group, LLC
    Release dateAug 11, 2022
    ISBN9781649140975
    Case of the Rusty Sword
    Author

    Jeffrey Poole

    Jeffrey M. Poole is a best-selling author who specializes in writing light-hearted cozy mystery and epic fantasy stories with a healthy dose of humor thrown in. He began as an indie author in 2010, but now has all 30+ of his titles traditionally published. Jeffrey lives in picturesque southwestern Oregon with his wife, Giliane, and their Welsh Corgi, Kinsey.Jeff's interests include archery, astronomy, archaeology, scuba diving, collecting movies, collecting swords, playing retro video games, and tinkering with any electronic gadget he can get his hands on.Proud active member of:MWA - Mystery Writers of AmericaSFWA - Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers AssociationPublisher: Secret Staircase Books, imprint of Columbine Publishing GroupMMPB Publisher: Worldwide Mystery HarlequinSeries:Corgi Case Files – cozy mysteryBakkian Chronicles, Tales of Lentari, Dragons of Andela – epic fantasyOfficial website: www.AuthorJMPoole.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/bakkianchronicles

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      Book preview

      Case of the Rusty Sword - Jeffrey Poole

      Case of the

      Rusty Sword

      By

      J.M. Poole

      Sign up for Jeffrey’s newsletter to get all the latest corgi news—

      Click here AuthorJMPoole.com

      AVAILABLE TITLES BY

      JEFFREY M. POOLE

      Mystery

      Case of the One-Eyed Tiger

      Case of the Fleet-Footed Mummy

      Case of the Holiday Hijinks

      Case of the Pilfered Pooches

      Case of the Muffin Murders

      Case of the Chatty Roadrunner

      Case of the Highland House Haunting

      Case of the Ostentatious Otters

      Case of the Dysfunctional Daredevils

      Case of the Abandoned Bones

      Case of the Great Cranberry Caper

      Case of the Shady Shamrock

      Case of the Ragin’ Cajun

      Case of the Missing Marine

      Case of the Stuttering Parrot

      Case of the Rusty Sword

      Case of the Unlucky Emperor*

      Epic Fantasy

      * - coming soon!

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Dedication

      Acknowledgments

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Epilogue

      Author’s Note

      For Dog Owners Everywhere

      Never could I have imagined I would enjoy owning a corgi as much as I do with this one. They're loyal, compassionate, and make great companions. Dogs may only be a small part of our world, but we are their everything, and we truly don't deserve them. If you own one, you'll understand what I mean.

      Acknowledgments

      My eternal thanks always go out to my lovely wife, Giliane, for putting up with me on a daily basis. Living with a writer isn’t easy, I will admit. Your input is always accepted, appreciated, and always welcome!

      There are always quite a few people to thank when writing a book. In this case, I’d like to thank my Posse members who helped read for me, including Jason, Carol M, Michelle, Diane, Caryl, and Louise. Then, on the Secret Staircase Books’ side of things, thank you to: Susan, Sandra, Marcia, Paula, and Isobel. You all make the finished product so much better! I also need to add a personal shout-out to my niece, Kaylee, who once again helped me create a few characters. This time around, she helped with the professor leading the university excavation team and his two grad students. We’ll make a writer out of you yet, kiddo!

      I did take some liberties with several of Oregon’s universities, so for those of you who have actually attended these institutions, please forgive me if I don’t quite get it right. Dates and facts about the start of the gold rush here in Oregon was actually pulled from history, so there’s no making that up. And, obviously, the beginning of my state’s gold rush started in Jacksonville, which I’m hoping everyone knows by now is the real-life inspiration for Pomme Valley. The town is real, as is the size and location. Also, the layout is exactly the same as I’ve described it. If you ever get the chance to visit the area, Jacksonville is worth the stop. And, as long as I’m plugging my favorite little town, stop by Las Palmas. Best damn Mexican food this side of the Rockies.

      Finally, I’d like to thank you, the reader. With your support, the adventures of our fun-loving trio, er, quartet will not be stopping anytime soon! Happy reading!

      ONE

      All this time! Think of it, Zachary. All this time, this has been under our feet. Would you want to live in a house with something like this buried underneath? I certainly wouldn’t. I wonder who could have done something like this?"

      In response, I gingerly poked my head into the large jagged opening in the foundation of my old house. This mystery had literally appeared the same day I had signed my house’s death warrant by choosing to have everything demolished. I shook my head.

      I have no idea. Foundations are supposed to be … well, just that: a foundation. Solid. Cement, or brick, or who knows what. But this? Knowing that this house was resting on a hollow foundation for years and years? It would have given me nightmares.

      Do you think Bonnie knew this was here? Jillian asked.

      Bonnie Davies was the previous owner of the land. Actually, she was the previous owner of everything here. The house, the winery, the acreage, the … oh, pardon me. I guess I should make the introductions before I lose everyone.

      My name is Zachary Anderson, but everyone calls me Zack. That is, everybody but my mother and this wonderful woman currently standing beside me. My wife’s name is Jillian, and she owns her own business, Cookbook Nook, a specialty kitchen store here in town. Speaking of which, the two of us live together in Pomme Valley, or PV as the locals call it. PV has a population of less than three thousand individuals, which suggests this tiny slice of southwestern Oregon would barely have a single traffic light in town. Actually, there are three, but that’s neither here nor there. If it wasn’t for the close proximity of Medford, which is five miles to the east, then I’d probably go crazy living in such a place.

      Medford has a population of over eighty-thousand, and as such, has all the popular restaurants, department stores, and even a small international airport, as you’d come to expect in modern-day civilization. Honestly? I couldn’t have planned a better area to settle down in, but then again, I really didn’t do too much research. I ended up in PV thanks to the aforementioned Bonnie Davies, when she left her entire estate, which included the house, the land, and her private winery, to me and my wife. My first wife, that is. Samantha, I’m very sorry to say, was killed in a horrible car accident, so that meant I had become the sole beneficiary.

      By the way, let me go on the record here and say I have never cared for wine. Every single grape in the world could dry up, thus decimating the wine industry, and I wouldn’t shed a tear. Oh, wait a minute. Yes, Lentari Cellars makes a huge profit from the fifty acres of land I currently own, and yes, I guess I would be sorry to see that go. But, as for drinking it, nope, it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest.

      No, wait, that’s not true, either. I have found one situation in which I actually like the smell and taste of wine. Turkey Day, and that involves Jillian cooking a turkey by basting it with red wine. Apparently, if you cook the alcohol out of it, then this bottom-feeder is more inclined to give it a try.

      Even if I didn’t have Lentari Cellars, I’d still be able to make a good living for myself. Prior to owning my winery, I was a romance author. Am. I am! I’m still a romance author. Wow, where did that come from? My book sales used to blow the profits from the winery out of the water, but lately? My master vintner, Caden, has ramped up production of the winery to practically one-hundred percent efficiency—to keep up with demand—and for the first time ever, last month, wine sales edged out my book sales.

      One final job I should mention, I have been involved with the police department. No, I’m not a cop, or an employee of the department, or anything like that. Instead, I am a paid consultant. Whenever the local police force encounters a case that has them stumped, I am called in to see if I can shed any light on the subject.

      All right, all right, I know I’m not exactly doing a good job being honest with you. The Pomme Valley Police Department really couldn’t give a flying fig about my opinion on these strange police cases. Instead, they wanted me to get my two dogs involved, Sherlock and Watson. Yes, you heard that right. There are two four-legged detectives living in my house who have solved so many police cases that it puts the local force to shame.

      My good friend, Vance Samuelson, PVPD’s senior detective, continues to scowl at me every time I bring this particular subject up. What can I say? Vance and I have an interesting history together, beginning with him arresting me for murder less than twenty-four hours after I first moved to Pomme Valley. I could go into details here, but I won’t. That story has already been told.

      By now, I assume you have a question or two regarding my two dogs. Well, what can I say about Sherlock and Watson? For starters, they are corgis. Don’t shake your head. I know you’ve heard of the breed. They are the short, squat little herding dogs favored by the Queen of England. Yep, those ones. Those two dogs have the ability to zero in on things so bizarre and out of the ordinary that you’d think they simply picked up a strange scent and had lost focus. Well, I can tell you I’ve stared at such a mismatch of items that I’ve gotten used to simply pulling out my phone and snapping a picture of whatever the dogs are looking at, figuring that even though it might not make sense now, somewhere down the line it will. Therefore, whenever I’m working a case with the dogs, I will usually gather our friends together at a restaurant of my choosing—don’t judge, I end up picking up the check—and see what they all think about the corgi clues.

      For the record, we really don’t make too much headway on the case. The significance of the clues is often not realized until long after the case is over. How those two corgis do it, I just don’t know. In fact, I don’t think I ever will. They’re amazing, and I know it. The problem is, they know it, too.

      Now, back to the present.

      As Jillian and I were staring through the opening made in the foundation, movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. Watson, my red and white female, had come up to sit beside my left foot, and she was whining. Glancing over at Sherlock, I could see he was moments away from letting out a warning woof, which usually tells me he’s picked up on something and that I should really be paying attention.

      What is it? I asked the dogs. Giving Jillian a lopsided grin, I stooped to pick up Watson and held her up so that she could look into the hollow foundation. See anything, girl? What has you spooked? There are no ghosts in there, Watson, so …

      WOOF.

      Feeling two paws suddenly applying pressure to my thigh, just above my knee, I knew that Sherlock had reared up on his hind legs, and was imploring me to look down. Shaking my head, I did just that.

      Awwooowooo.

      Two syllables, Jillian reported. "I know if Sherlock let’s out a three-syllable howl, that’s his pay-attention-to-me noise. Four?"

      Four? I repeated, grinning. If there are four, then I can only assume he’s seriously aggravated with us.

      What about two? my wife asked, as she pointed at Sherlock. She squatted next to the corgi and draped an arm across his back. What is it, pretty boy? Do you want to look in the hole, too?

      Sherlock let out a single, piercing bark.

      I’ll take that as a big ten-four, I said, as I lowered Watson to the ground and picked up Sherlock. Resting the bulk of my tri-colored corgi’s weight on my arm, I lifted him up so that he could look into the opening. There. See anything?

      Sherlock was silent as he gazed inside. I could hear him sniffing like crazy, as though I had dropped a treat onto a shag rug, and he wasn’t going to rest until he had found it. After a few moments, Sherlock twisted in my grip so that he could look back at me. I, unfortunately, was looking through the opening, too, and wasn’t paying attention to him. What I would have noticed, had I actually been a little more observant, was that both Sherlock’s head, and my own, were now on the same level, and were less than two feet apart.

      Sherlock’s long snout turned my way, his tongue came out, and just like that, he got my attention back.

      You little booger, I laughed, as I set the feisty corgi down and wiped my face with the back of an arm. "You were just waiting to do that, weren’t you?"

      See anything good in there? Jillian wanted to know.

      Well, now that the demo crew has left for the day, and I’ve got some time to actually look around, I can see that there is some other stuff in there. It looks like an old trunk. There are several crates stacked against a corner, and what looks like a number of medium-sized stones, set in a circle.

      A hearth, Jillian guessed.

      My thoughts exactly, I said, nodding. "Now, if that is a hearth, that would mean it was probably used as some type of camp site, wouldn’t it?"

      My wife nodded. Both corgis had stretched out on the ground and were watching us.

      Why, I began, adopting an exasperated tone, would someone pour a false foundation around the campsite? Yes, they’re trying to hide something, but what?

      I think you’re right, Zachary. There’s something going on in there, and I think we need to figure out what it is.

      And how would you like to do that? I asked.

      Jillian tapped the wall with her finger. Well, first and foremost, I’d say we need to make the hole a little bigger, so that we can make it inside.

      Stay here. I’ll get the sledge hammer.

      Bring a flashlight, too, would you? Jillian called, after I turned away.

      No problem.

      Ten minutes later, with both dogs now on leashes, and with Jillian in control of them, I took my first turn at what it was like to work on a demolition crew. And, let me tell you, it’s not as fun as it looks. I’m no expert in physics, but when you take one solid object (a sledge hammer) and whack it against another solid object (the foundation), then what you get are some seriously uncomfortable vibrations traveling through the handle.

      Yee-ouch!

      Are you all right?

      I inspected the closest wall. Yeah, I’m good. I really should have brought a pair of gloves. Hey, check it out! We now have a nice, long crack running down to the ground. We can use that to our advantage. One more blow ought to do it.

      It took three more, for a total of four, hits. Four lousy swings with the sledge hammer, and what did I have to show for it? Two blisters. On each hand.

      Hand me the flashlight, would you? I requested. The sledge hammer was set on the ground, so that the handle was leaning against the wall. Snapping on the light, I stepped inside. I can see where the sword was picked up. There’s almost a perfect imprint on the ground here. I don’t know who put it in here, but it’s been here a while, that’s for sure.

      What about that trunk? Jillian wanted to know.

      Well, let’s see. It appears to be covered in leather, and it has several metal bands wrapping around it, like metal ribbons. It has a number of brass studs all over it, too. I guess they’re decorative? And, there’s one large fastener on the front, acting as a lock. For the record, it looks like it’s sealed up tight.

      Oooh, how mysterious! Jillian exclaimed, delighted. I can’t wait to find out what’s in it!

      I noticed a misshapen lump on the ground, near the trunk’s bottom-right corner. Nudging the object with the toe of my shoe, I inadvertently let out a grunt.

      What is it? Jillian wanted to know.

      I picked the thing up and shook the dust and cobwebs from it.

      I’ve seen this type of thing before. Jillian, this is a hat. More specifically, this is a hat commonly worn by cavalry soldiers during the Civil War. I think … I think this might have been some type of camp of theirs.

      From the Civil War? my wife dubiously asked.

      Well, yeah. Think about it. The sword that was found? I thought it looked like a cavalry sword. Then, we have this hat, which …

      Kepi, Jillian interrupted.

      Huh?

      That hat? It’s called a kepi. It’s just the style that it is. Do go on.

      "Right. All right, this kepi thingamajig was worn by cavalry soldiers, and we have an antique trunk that’s probably from

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