A Story Beats HOOK Example

Friday, Present Day
Byna Spring, Texas

Deena Finch savored the last sip of dark-roast coffee before she pulled the baking tray from the oven. While the peanut butter dog treats cooled, a thump on the longleaf-pine floor announced her chubby Boston terrier was on his way. Each morning, around six o’clock, Ike enjoyed a fresh treat before a slow-walk in the neighborhood.
     The temperature in Byna Spring had yet to reach the toasty range for early June. Deena loved her mornings, unhurried times of reflection and prayer. But the patter on the windows signaled rain, and Ike hated to get his feet wet. She snugged the yellow slicker tight around her neck before snapping the leash on the dog.
     Most mornings, she and Ike strolled through the residential neighborhoods near Main Street, taking in the quiet that blanketed the small Texas town. On those days, Deena left the hundred-year-old building through the front door. Given today’s rain, she planned a short trek and exited by the back door into the alley.
     The colorful art painted onto the walls of the buildings took on a surreal glow. Holding the umbrella over her and Ike, Deena made the best of the weather, letting the dog take his time as the drumming of drops on the rooftops and umbrella wooed her into a dreamlike state. She recited her favorite Bible verses and a wave of peace swept over her.
     Ike jerked on the leash, growled low and nosed a loose shoe. She froze, but the dog tugged again, straining toward the body lying face up. A flood of adrenaline raced through Deena’s veins. Her balled fists dug sharp nails into soft palms.
     Ike inched forward, dragging Deena along.
     She stared at the discolored face. Ted Deval? Her newest client at Live Oak Gallery.
     Even though Ike weighed north of twenty-five pounds, Deena swept the dog into her arms, darted back inside, and phoned the police.
     Her husband came into the kitchen, stood near, and after she hung up, Deena collapsed into his arms. Between sobs, she described Ike’s discovery.
     Without a word, Greg hugged Deena tighter.
     After moments of silence, Deena raised her head from Greg’s chest. “I told Officer Thurston we’d meet him in the alley.”
     Greg locked Ike in his crate and grabbed the oversized umbrella.
     Outside in the steady downpour, minutes passed. “I—” Deena turned toward Greg. “I’ve got to see if it’s really him.”
     Greg hugged her shoulders. “You sure?”
     She nodded.
     The day before, Ted Deval asked Deena to appraise a painting from his parents’ estate. The art rested on an easel inside her gallery.
     Deena came out of her thoughts to find Greg staring at her. Without a word, she led him toward the body. He held the umbrella over her as she leaned down.
     Before today, it had not crossed her mind that bad things might happen to good people in Byna Spring. As she drew close to the pale body, a drop of rain, like an icy finger, raked down her back to the base of her spine.
     Her newest client, at six feet tall, was rail-thin for a forty-something male—a stark contrast to her husband, who was half a head shorter and stocky. The victim’s rain-soaked hair looked black instead of what she remembered as chestnut brown, but he was definitely Ted.
     When Deena stood up, Greg wrapped his arms around her. “You okay?”
     “What do you think, Captain Oblivious?”
Greg squeezed Deena’s shoulders and touched his lips to her damp forehead. “For a grumpy gal, you don’t gripe too much.”
     She glanced at her watch. Where’s officer Thurston?
     Greg wiped a raindrop from her nose. “Get you anything?”
     “Yeah. Find the receipt to that carefree retirement you promised!”
     “We’ll get through this.” Greg pulled Deena close as an involuntary spasm swept across her shoulders.
     She stared toward the alley’s entrance.
     Sure, you and Ike. Me, not so sure.