In Dog We Trust (Golden Retriever Mysteries)
“He’s a genial blond guy, a couple years younger than Rick and I, and about fifty pounds heavier than he should be. At just over six feet, he was an imposing figure, whether in his suit and tie or in casual clothes, as he was that night-- an extra-large navy polo shirt, khakis and deck shoes. “How’re they treating you?” he asked when he came in and shook my hand.
“Fine. I just want to get this over with.”
Tony Rinaldi came in then, and after the introductions we sat down. After getting my permission, he turned on a tape recorder, and established his name and rank, my name and Hunter’s, and the date, time and location of the conversation. “I’d like you to start way back at the beginning,” he said. “Tell me about your neighbor—Caroline Kelly?”
“I only knew her at all because of her dog,” I said. “Rochester. The golden retriever. She used to walk him every morning and every night, and I’d be out walking myself around the same time. We would stop and chat now and then.”
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