Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  “No shenanigans here,” she declares. “I’m a busy mom of two teenage girls.”

  Shep nods. “That’s right. I heard you married Skip Ryan.”

  Hilary slings her arm around her old bestie. “She sure did. Fourteen years and going strong.” She tucks one of Kadie’s curls behind her ear. “Fourteen years is an awful long time. She’s entitled to a little shenanigan now and again.” She licks her lips as she looks to Shep.

  It’s clear Hilary is up for a shenanigan or two—with my fiancé.

  Okay, so Shep may not really be my fiancé, but that’s beside the point. I don’t take too kindly to cheaters, and I’m about to demonstrate it to her firsthand by way of my fist.

  A couple of men step into our circle and the air grows icy as Hilary and Kadie quickly decide their palates are in need of a libation.

  I bet they’re going to have a quick powwow on how to best snag Shep away and undress him in the nearest dark hallway. I knew girls like that in high school. I didn’t like them then and I don’t like them now.

  Shep takes a breath. “Well, if it isn’t the skirt patrol.” He slaps each of the men before us with a handshake. “Bowie, this is Lloyd Jackson.” He nods to the beefy-looking man, bald, sparkling green eyes and a wide, tight smile. “He’s a deputy down at the Woodley Sheriff’s Department.”

  “That’s right.” Lloyd sheds an easy grin. “Come this fall, I’m running for sheriff. I’ll expect a few votes from you all.” He gives a cheesy wink while he belts out a laugh.

  “Sheriff?” Shep nods. “You got my vote already. Let me know if you need any help with the campaign.” He points to the stalky man next to him with a full head of brown hair and matching dark eyes. “And this is James Palmer. He, too, is a deputy down at the Woodley Sheriff’s Department. It’s like old home week in more ways than one. Boys, this is Bowie Binx.”

  “His fiancée,” I’m forced to highlight the point once again. “Nice to meet you both.”

  “Fiancée?” Lloyd shakes his head over at Shep. “You do know what that means, don’t you?”

  The three of them share a laugh on my behalf.

  “Very funny,” I mutter. “So you all worked together, huh?”

  “That’s right.” James gives a wistful shake of the head as he looks to Shep. “We sure miss you down at the station. “But don’t worry. We came packing heat.”

  Shep nods his way. “So I take it we’re all safe here tonight.”

  “We’re all safe. And if you don’t behave”—James peels back his suit jacket and exposes the butt of a gun—“this is what I’m going to kill you with.”

  The three of them share another hearty guffaw, and it’s then I realize the vision I had this morning just came to fruition.

  Okay, so nobody was actually going to kill Shep, but you can never be too cautious. I’m glad I came. It turns out, he still has a very big target on his back.

  Shep leans in. “So what’s going on with Craig and Kadie?” He shakes his head at his friends. “I sensed some tension there.”

  The men exchange a look.

  Lloyd sniffs as he looks around. “Nothing that I know about.”

  James shakes his head. “Me either. Maybe she’s sick of the old man? Skip is twenty years her senior.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine.” I don’t mind adding my two cents at all. Men always think women are so eager to cheat, when in my experience it’s been the other way around. In fact, I’d bet good money Skip is skipping out on poor Kadie. “Shep, how about a drink?”

  I’d rather find a bottle of strychnine than listen to the three of them gossip like a bunch of seventh graders.

  Shep and I take off, and thankfully there’s no sign of Hilary or her shifty bestie.

  “How did I do?” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck, and we begin to sway to the music. His heady cologne hits me in the exact place God intended it to and, for a moment, I’d like to pretend this arrangement between the two of us is genuine.

  His lips twitch shy of a smile. “You’re doing great. You can tone it down if you want.” His hands hesitate around my hips and I help land them there before resuming the hip swaying.

  “You can’t scale back at a time like this. If Hawkeye Hilary sees that you’re afraid to touch me, she’ll sense a crack in the engagement armor.” I’m about to suggest a peck on the cheek to add to our legitimacy—and to satiate my own cravings—when a loud bang goes off.

  The odd thing is, the bodies in the room don’t seem to notice or care.

  “That wasn’t the music,” I say. “Believe me when I say I’ve been privy to hearing a gunshot or two.”

  Shep inches back with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

  “I’m going to have you tell me exactly what you’ve been privy to, but not now.” He pulls back, his right hand drifting to his waist as if to feel for his own weapon. “Stay here, Bowie. I’ll be right back.”

  “Not on your life.” I trot ahead of him in the direction the sound was coming from and lead us down a dimly lit hall. I’m about to pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight when I trip and land over something soft and warm.

  “Oh my God.” I do my best to scramble off this warm pile of jelly as Shep helps me to my feet. And then I see it for what it is. “It’s a body,” I pant as I note the dark stain of blood pooling from his chest.

  It’s not just any body—it’s Craig Walker.

  And by the looks of it, this will be his last high school reunion.

  Craig Walker is dead.

  Chapter 3

  “He’s gone,” Shep confirms after checking his pulse.

  “I’ll call the police,” I say, reaching for my phone.

  “No, don’t do that.”

  “Okay then, I’ll scream.”

  “Don’t do that for sure.” Shep stands and glances over my shoulder. “I’ll call it in. Would you do me a favor? See if you can find Lloyd out there. He’s the bald guy with muscles.” Shep steps past me and begins shouting commands into his phone.

  “Bald guy with muscles,” I whisper, giving one quick glance down the hall and something gold and shiny catches my eye about ten feet away from the poor guy on the floor. I quickly cast my flashlight over it, noting it’s a tube of lipstick, gold case, the expensive kind you buy at the mall for close to fifty bucks a pop—a brand called SMACK. I should know. I used to have a dozen, if not a hundred, of those tubes rolling around at home when I lived in another state, another town, and another tax bracket entirely.

  The door at the end of the hall sits slightly ajar and I can see a seam of light coming from the other side. Judging by the balmy fresh air blowing this way, I’m guessing it leads outside.

  I step out of the hall of horrors and into the ballroom. That primal urge to howl as loud as humanly possible is still very much alive within me.

  “Hey?” a female voice calls out before me, and I turn to find Hilary gawking at my dress in horror. “Did you spill wine on yourself?” She leans in to better inspect it. “I’m not an expert, but I’d say that was blood. You didn’t kill Shep, did you?” she teases, but her lips quiver as if she meant it on some level.

  “Actually.” I lift a finger just as her eyes drift past me, and Hilary Campbell does all the screaming for me.

  Before I know it, everybody in this hot and sweaty ballroom has congregated around the entry to the hallway and is craning their necks for a glimpse of the poor man.

  Whispers of who it might be float around the vicinity. From the corner of my eye, I spot James Palmer, the dark-haired deputy, coming into the room, and on his heels is Kadie. She looks just as surprised as he does by the sheer number of bodies congregating in my direction.

  I’m about to head over when I spot Lloyd, the bald muscle man, making a beeline over. His suit jacket has been abandoned, his gun holster is exposed, and he has his weapon drawn.

  “All right, back up,” he barks as James joins him in the gun-wielding department.

  “Shep is
back there,” I pant at the two of them as they pass me. And soon, the hallway is flooded with emergency medical workers and others from the sheriff’s department.

  Shep comes over and takes a look around at his old friends.

  “I’m going to have to ask everyone to step back,” he shouts. “There’s been a homicide.”

  A round of gasps and screams fills the room.

  He holds up a hand. “Nobody leaves the building. Make yourselves comfortable. A deputy will come around to get your information.”

  Hilary slithers up to Shep, tugging at a blonde lock. “This reminds me of those shut-in parties we used to have. Boys and girls, you and me?” She inches her way closer to him. “A few rounds of hard liquor and—”

  “And”—I gently push her away as I curl up next to my make-believe man—“one of his good friends just passed away. I don’t think he’s in the mood to trot down memory lane.” I look to the handsome man before me. “Shep, are you okay?”

  He takes a solid breath. “Yeah, I think so.” He sighs as he looks to the thirsty woman beside us. “Hilary, it was Craig.”

  “What?” A genuine horror overtakes her.

  Wait a minute. Didn’t she just look down the hall a few minutes ago? I mean, it’s dark, but it’s not that dark. For some reason, I’m having a hard time buying that shocked look on her face.

  “Okay.” She shrugs it off. “Now what?”

  Shep and I exchange a glance.

  “Now we mourn,” I tell her.

  She makes a face. “I get that. What I meant was should we call somebody? Like his parents?”

  “Lloyd is on it.” Shep nods. “I’m sorry, Hilary. I know you were close.”

  She sucks in her bottom lip and her eyes begin to water on cue. It looks as if good old Hilary here found an easy inroad to Shep’s heart—by way of grief.

  “This is going to be really hard for all of us.” She lifts her chin. “I suppose that means we’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” She’s right back to tugging at her curls and staring him down.

  “And you’ll be seeing a lot more of me,” I’m quick to tell her, but her gaze is unbreakable.

  Lloyd comes this way, as does James. Both men look a little shaken, and understandably so. Craig was their friend.

  James sweeps his eyes up and down my body. “What’s going on here?”

  Shep winces at the sight of the bloodstain running down the front of my dress.

  “We were headed out to inspect a loud noise.” He zeroes in on the crimson mess on my chest. “Bowie tripped. She fell over him.”

  Lloyd leans in, his crystal blue eyes pinned to mine. “Bowie, did you see anyone back there with him?”

  “No. It was just Shep and me. We were dancing. We heard a noise and I thought it sounded like a gunshot.”

  Lloyd lifts a brow. “Have you heard a gunshot before?”

  I exchange a quick glance with Shep.

  “No, actually,” I blow out a breath along with the lie, “I don’t believe I have.”

  “Don’t worry about anything.” Lloyd nods to the blood on my dress. “Why don’t you get cleaned up? I’m clearing the two of you to go home.” He looks to Shep with a stern expression. “What did you see?”

  Shep glances back to the dark hall as men with jackets with the word coroner emblazoned over the back head on in.

  “I didn’t see anyone.” He gives a hard blink. “God, I wish I did. But just like Bowie said, we heard a gunshot.”

  James steps in, his dark brows furrowed as if he were mildly confused.

  “So you knew exactly where to go.” He shakes his head with disbelief. “Shep, I’m sorry to have to ask, but did you have a falling-out with Craig Walker?”

  “Never.” Shep doesn’t miss a beat.

  James ticks his head to the side as if he were appeased with that. “And what about your date? Did she ever leave your side?”

  “No.” Shep’s features sharpen with what looks like anger. “I appreciate you doing your job, but neither of us was involved.”

  “What’s this?” a female voice pipes up from behind and we turn to see Shepherd’s ex-fiancée, homicide detective Nora Grimsley. She’s pretty in a no-nonsense way, shorter in stature than me by half a foot, brown hair, large brown eyes with no fanfare as far as cosmetics go. She’s a sharp cookie with the badge to prove it, and right now she’s looking at the entire lot of us as if she’s about to put us through the wringer.

  She takes a step in. “Shepherd, tell me this new friend of yours isn’t wearing the blood of the victim as an accessory yet again.”

  By yet again, she means we’ve been in this exact same awkward accouterment predicament before. About a month ago, I stumbled upon a dead country singer in the courtyard of the manor. It was a mess. But Nora is badly mistaken about that whole blood on my accouterments thing. I don’t recall any blood on me the last time. I was merely holding the murder weapon.

  Hilary shudders. “She’s not his friend. She’s his fiancée.” She gives an odd tip of the head to the woman, the kind that says what do you think of them engaged apples?—and Nora’s mouth rounds out with surprise.

  “Well then.” Nora’s eyes widen as she turns her attention to Shep. “That escalated quickly.”

  That’s what I said.

  “All right.” Nora folds her arms over her chest. “Start at the beginning.”

  And Shep does just that. It takes a little convincing, but soon she sees the bloody light and determines that Shep and I are clear.

  “If I need to find you”—she squints my way, and I’d swear on all that is holy I can feel venom exuding from her every pore—“don’t you dare leave town. Are you both still in Starry Falls?”

  Hilary gasps as she elbows Shep. “So that’s where you’ve been hiding out?”

  Shep nods before turning to his other ex. “Don’t worry, Nora. You’ve got my number if you need to reach me.”

  “Either of us,” I add. Not that I want Nora and her big bad badge to come a knockin’. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the feds-light. And as much as I don’t want the real thing after me, I don’t want the diet version either.

  Nora looks to the hallway as the circumference around it is quickly cordoned off with caution tape.

  “I’d better get over there.” She looks my way. “If you remember anything, anything at all, I want you to give me a call.”

  A thought comes to me. “I do remember something. A gold tube of lipstick—SMACK lipstick to be exact.”

  “Lipstick?” She blinks up at me as if I were having a cosmetic brain malfunction.

  “Yes.” I lean in as Shep and his friends huddle and begin to whisper amongst themselves. “I saw a tube lying about ten feet from the body.”

  She makes a face at the crowd past my shoulder. “Judging by the kind of event it is, I’m guessing there’s enough lipstick in this room to open up a beauty shop. Anyone could have dropped it.”

  “Fair enough,” I say. “Just letting you know what I saw.”

  She sighs my way and pauses a moment to glance down at the stain on my dress.

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” She takes off, and I turn to find Shep, but he’s out of sight. Instead, I see Oliver, the silver-haired construction worker, talking to James and it looks as if it’s getting a little heated. Oliver glances back at the dark void of that desolate hallway before storming out of the room.

  That’s funny. He looked angry far more than he did grievous. But then, I guess people grieve in different ways.

  James starts to head toward the hall and Kadie intercepts him.

  Tears stream down her cheeks and she says something to him before he gives her a quick embrace.

  He takes off, and before I can turn to look for my missing faux fiancé, Lloyd steps up and offers Kadie an embrace as well. He lands a kiss to her temple as they part ways and he quickly wipes the tears from her eyes. Something about the gesture warms my heart. How I miss those small nuances, someone to hold, some
one to wipe the tears from my eyes. Not that my ex ever did any of those things, but they innately seem like relationship goals to strive for.

  Lloyd heads into the thicket of deputies and I watch as he steps over to where James and Shep are having a discussion. He lands an arm over each of their shoulders as they whisper amongst themselves.

  This isn’t the class reunion they wanted. It’s definitely not what Craig Walker wanted.

  I glance back at Kadie in time to see Hilary holding onto her, and the two of them seem to be engaged in a lively conversation.

  Huh.

  Kadie says something in an aggressive manner as she tries to free herself from Hilary’s hold, but Shep’s psycho ex is proving to be a bear trap for the poor girl.

  And just like that, they come together in a hard embrace, weeping over one another’s shoulders.

  Now those are true friends.

  A swell of emotion stirs in me, and suddenly I’m missing the connections I had in my other life—my brother, my sister, my mother, and my sweet, albeit dead, Nana Rose, which sounds silly, but her memory is heavier back home where at least I could still pet her belongings once in a while. Heck, I even miss my father, despite the fact I should be used to missing him by now, seeing that he’s been locked up for the better half of the last decade.

  The ballroom feels as if it’s beginning to sway beneath my feet and I gasp. I give a quick glance around at the bodies mingling as the busy chatter fills my head, the intermittent bouts of laughter, and my entire body seizes as a warm rush pulses through me. In my mind’s eye, a vision begins to form.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” a female voice calls out. I can make out the back of her head, dark hair, graying at the roots, and standing in front of her I see Oliver Kincaid, with his shock of gray hair.

  “How about we both keep our mouths shut? I’m not in the mood to go down for this.” He looks to his left and his affect brightens on a dime. “Well, look who’s here.”

  The room blinks back to life as Shep materializes before me.

  “Bowie?” He gives my hand a gentle rattle, and I glance down, shocked to see him holding it. “Bowie, I think we’d better get you out of here.”