One of the oddities of Golden Age fiction was its fixation on the occult and the generally weird—ancient gypsy curses, haunted burial grounds, etc. It’s therefore something of a relief to settle in with the refreshingly literal Ms. Moyes: When a title refers to a third dog, we are not talking about some metaphysical barking: There were three dogs and now one is missing. Up in arms about this is Emmy Tibbett’s sister Jane, a stalwart of the animal-rights movement and a trial to the other locals, who are a lot more concerned with the fact that one of their number has recently been hauled off to prison for the minor crime of having killed someone while drunk. Happily, Henry Tibbett soon shows up to connect the two and restore order to the village . . . though not before being forced to dress in drag.