Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  I say, “Next fall,” and Shep says, “Next June,” all at the same time.

  Hilary laughs so hard she snorts. “Oh hon, I’m seeing right through this little tacky charade.” She picks up her purse. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head off to the little girls’ room.”

  I straighten. “Did she just call our engagement tacky?”

  Tilly sniffs. “I think she was directly speaking about you.”

  I wait until Hilly is out of sight to take a page out of her potty playbook.

  “I’ll be back. Tiramisu for dessert, please.” I scoot my way to the front of the establishment where I spot Kadie polishing the brass railing that leads to the register.

  “Kadie?” I manufacture a sparkling smile just for the brunette. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  She looks mildly confused about who I am and who her friend might be.

  “Oh right, Craig.” She winces. “That was pretty terrible.” She closes her eyes a moment.

  “So you were close?”

  She shrugs. “He came by the house once in a while. I’m in the middle of a remodel, and he liked to check in on things.”

  “Right, Oliver and he were partners.”

  She tips her head to the side. “Not many people know that. Oliver is proud, and when he hit hard times, it was Craig who stepped in. He was always trying to do the right thing.” Her jaw tenses as she stares vacantly past me. “Sometimes when you do the right thing, the wrong thing happens.”

  “You said it, sister.” Not that I would know. I was doing the wrong thing and just so happened to live to tell about it.

  She shrugs up at me. “It’s a terrible world. I’m just living in it. I’ve got my girls to worry about.” She holds herself for a moment. “And Lord knows I’d do anything to protect them.”

  “You’re a good mother,” I say. “But poor Craig. His mother sure couldn’t protect him. Hey? You probably knew him best. Did he have anyone who was angry with him? Maybe someone he owed money to?”

  She shakes her head emphatically. “No money issues. Craig was more dependable than the bank.”

  “How about enemies?”

  She takes a deep breath. “I wouldn’t say that. But there was someone he was arguing with that night.” Her eyes flit to the dining room for a second. “A man.”

  “Arguing?” I lean in. “What were they arguing about?”

  “A woman.” She averts her eyes.

  “Kadie, who was the man Craig was arguing with?”

  Her lips part just as I spot Shep heading this way, and judging by the look on his face, he doesn’t look too impressed with my agenda.

  I lean in. “Kadie, was it Oliver?”

  She looks stunned for a moment before nodding frenetically.

  I’m about to say something when a woman calls out for her.

  “It’s not real!” the all too familiar shrill voice screams. “They’re fake. Shep and that nitwit are no more engaged than I’m an elephant seal.” Hilary stumbles into the entry from the other side, and no sooner do I catch that annoyed look on her face than Shep pulls me in close.

  “Here you are, Sweet Cheeks,” he says. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought you were trying to get away.” He forces a tight smile before planting one on me, right on the kisser—as in his lips over mine.

  And he lingers.

  It’s as if my entire body melts into a blazing puddle of ecstasy.

  A groan works its way up my throat and I reach up and clasp my hands over his face and hold him hostage there in the event he thought about getting away from me.

  Shepherd Wexler has the softest lips known to all mankind. His flesh is heated to the touch—and those hands, they ride over my back like twin snakes slithering up and down a vine.

  Okay, so this is all for show, but who cares?

  I’M KISSING SHEP!

  A moment of madness takes over and I go for it. I break through a barrier of lips and teeth and have my way with his mouth just the way I’ve been fantasizing about for the last solid month.

  And the best part?

  Shep kisses me back with twice as much fervor.

  “All right, you two,” Kadie sings from behind. “Get a room already, would you?”

  We part ways as our eyes lock over one another, and I can’t help but giggle.

  Shep glances over my shoulder, and I look in time to see Hilary stalking out of the place.

  “I think our wicked work is done,” I whisper.

  Shep gives a crooked grin as he bears those Alaskan husky eyes into mine.

  “You used your tongue.” He cocks his head with amusement.

  “You know what they say—play stupid games win stupid prizes.”

  He shakes his head as he traces my eyebrow with his finger.

  “There’s nothing stupid about you.”

  “The mob and feds might beg to differ,” I whisper.

  I glance back, and thankfully Kadie has done a disappearing act herself.

  “I almost forgot,” I practically hiss up at him. His arms are still firmly locked around my waist, and I’m not protesting the effort. “I need to speak with my father and tell him to call off the dogs.”

  “The dogs?”

  I nod.

  He shakes his head. “There’s no way. You’ll be documented, as in photographed. And if the feds don’t find you that way, the mob will. Their track record of hunting people down is just as good, if not better.”

  The door behind us swings open, letting in a breath of fresh night air and the stale scent of Hilary Campbell right along with it.

  “I’m back,” she sings, showing off a toothy smile. “Just thought I’d run out and have a little smoke.”

  More like lick her wounds. I don’t smell cigarettes.

  Tilly and Butch rush into the entry.

  Tilly scoffs. “Well, look who’s trying to stiff us.” She slurs just enough to let me know she’s taken full advantage of Kadie’s never-ending wine glass.

  “It’s been real.” Butch navigates Tilly to the door. “This woman turns into a sexy assassin after midnight. If I don’t get her home, she’s bound to take down an ego or two.”

  A part of me is actually starting to like the prickly cactus. He’s only known Tilly for all of five minutes, but he’s really got her number. I guess what they say is true—

  bartenders really do know everything.

  Hilary belts out a laugh. “If what you’re saying is true about her, I’ll be sure to have her arrested. Don’t you worry about a thing. You can keep your hands clean.”

  I suck in a quick breath.

  The vision!

  That was it.

  I sigh up at Shep. He didn’t spill my secret after all.

  Shep antes up at the register and we say goodnight to Tilly and Butch—and to the silver snake who slithers her way back to the bar she crawled out of.

  Shep and I drive home to Starry Falls with a comfortable silence between us.

  All night I dream of Shep Wexler and those commanding kisses.

  Chapter 9

  That kiss.

  I’ll admit, it’s been on my mind all day, and it still hasn’t been twenty-four hours. I can’t help it. Shepherd Wexler may have been acting in an effort to shake that stage five clinger, but I was the happy recipient of Hilary’s outward rejection. And yes, I went for it toward the end of our lip-lock. Shep went for the gold himself.

  But unfortunately for me, Shep and his magical kisses aren’t the only thing occupying my mind this morning. I found a note on my porch when I left my cabin this morning with the words I am watching you scrawled out in all caps. My guess is Hilary is more stalker than she is your run-of-the-mill ex-sweetheart, and she’s trying to scare me away so she can pounce with a death kill.

  Sometimes I actually feel sorry for men. They see women as these sweet little things who can be easily detoured by something as cheesy as a fake engagement. They have no idea how savvy, how demented we can be wh
en we set our minds to something, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

  That old saying the heart wants what it wants? Well, you can easily tack on that women will do just about anything to get it, including ignoring the fact the man they’re targeting is seemingly engaged.

  I’ve got news for Hilary Campbell. I’ve dealt with psychotics before, so sophisticated in their man-stealing ways that it makes Hilly here look like a three-year-old trying to snatch a one hundred dollar bill out of a wrestler’s hand.

  It’s not happening.

  But then again, neither are Shep and I.

  We’re true blue phonies. I guess I need to face it. Hilary isn’t trying to steal something that’s mine. She’s trying to steal something that I’m pretending is mine—that maybe deep down inside I’m wishing was mine.

  I can’t help it. Shep is hot, smart, and a quasi-nice guy.

  I’m all alone in another state, with another hair color—sort of considering the fact those Cherry Coke red highlights I gave myself in a Denny’s bathroom last month haven’t completely faded out yet.

  “Bowie?”

  Speaking of the handsome devil. Standing before me with that shock of dark hair, soft scruff, and daring blue eyes is Shepherd Wexler himself.

  I perk to life as I straighten my apron. It’s been a long day at the Manor Café, and it’s almost time for me to help out with Stitch Witchery, Opal’s glorified knitting slash drinking club in the library. Shep’s been here for the last few hours working on his latest bestseller, and I would have gone over and sat with him, but Hilary Campbell beat me to it. That woman is harder to shake than the clap.

  “Shep.” I give a noncommittal smile. “I was busy or I would have gone over to say hello.” I’m guessing he sneaked in while I was working in the back.

  He frowns at the thought. And if it were possible for someone to grow that much more handsome while making a sour face, he just accomplished the feat.

  “No, you wouldn’t have.” He comes shy of winking. “She’s here.” He downright glowers at the near mention of Hilary. “She says she wants to learn the craft of writing. I’m giving her a few pointers.”

  “Nice,” I muse. “I’m sure she’s giving you a few pointers—on how to seal the deal. Newsflash: as your fiancée, I wholeheartedly don’t approve. She’s making a monkey out of me and I don’t like it.”

  “I thought we had your blessing?” he teases and it only infuriates me more.

  “Well, I’ve taken it back.”

  A brief smile infiltrates the ranks and breaks out over his face.

  “I’ll deal with her. But that’s not why I’m here. Bowie, you mentioned that you needed to communicate with your father.”

  I close my eyes a good long time. “It’s as if I’ve died and left everyone and everything behind. This is a surreal existence. One I wouldn’t wish upon anybody.”

  “I know.” He reaches across the counter and taps his hand gently over mine. “But I have a proposition for you. I want you to think about it before you say yes.”

  “Do I look flighty and impulsive to you? Don’t answer that. Go on.”

  “Since I’ve visited with him before, it will be easy to get me as an approved number. I’m talking about a phone call.”

  “Yes!” I shout it out with zeal without meaning to and half the patrons, along with good old Hil, look this way. “Please, Shep. I’m begging you to make this happen,” I whisper with fevered delight.

  “I’ll try. I’ll have to get my ducks in a row first. I’ll be documented as the recipient of that call, but I’m fine with it. And my information registered with the prison is from an old Connecticut address I once had, which is good. We want as few links to Starry Falls—to you, as possible. Now, another option which is far less invasive would be that I talk to him myself and tell him you’re fine.”

  I shake my head. “He won’t believe you. Not deep down. Shep, we need to do this asap. Those boys he’s called out to look for me are equivalent to starving dogs chasing down a bloody steak. It’s only a matter of time before they get their meal, and guess who’s the dead meat in this scenario?”

  He takes a breath. “Not you.” The muscles in his jaw tense as if the thought made him angry. “You’re going to be fine.”

  The door to the café swings open, and in strides a big, beefy, bald deputy who eases into a giant grin once he spots us.

  “Well, if it isn’t Wexler the writer.” He belts out a laugh as Shep turns his way, and soon the two men are hugging it out with manly slaps to the back.

  “Lloyd, how’s it going?” Shep looks momentarily perplexed. “You’re not here to see Hilary, are you? She’s over there in the back.” He hitches his thumb in that direction, and I glance over at the hussy in question in time to see her sinking in her seat.

  It’s almost as if she’s trying to hide from the guy.

  Why on earth would she not want to be spotted?

  Most likely she’s embarrassed. As she should be. She’s been going after a man who is for all practical purposes hitched.

  She’s a home-wrecker. All home-wreckers should be more than a little mortified that they’ve allowed themselves to stoop so low.

  “Nope.” Lloyd glances in Hilary’s direction and knits his brows as if he wasn’t impressed with her presence. That makes two of us. “I had to run by and check on my aunt. She’s still here in the falls. And while I was out and about, I remembered someone mentioning you liked to bury your nose in a book—your own book, down at the local café.”

  “I am easy to find.” Shep shoots me a look that suggests I might want to rethink using him as a go-between for my father and me. But that’s not going to happen.

  One in the hand is worth two in the imaginary bush.

  Whether I like it or not, Shep is my only link to my father.

  Shep folds his arms across his chest as he examines his buddy. “Well, how about dinner?”

  Lloyd glances at the menu and winces. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Not here.” Shep elbows him on the arm. “I wouldn’t do that to you. We’ve got a steakhouse near the falls. A nice restaurant. My treat.”

  “Wow,” I say it a touch too loud without meaning to. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  Lloyd bucks with a short-lived laugh. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

  “And I’m sure he did.” I look to Shep. “Don’t worry, Hot Buns. Give it a few weeks and we’ll have a whole new menu. You’ll be proud to have your out-of-town guests dine right here with you.”

  Shep gives a wistful shake of the head. “With you in charge, Kitten, I don’t doubt it.”

  Aw, did he just call me Kitten? Why do I feel as if I’ve just been given an upgrade in the nickname department?

  Lloyd shifts as if to get a better look at Hilary. “What about Hil?”

  Shep glances that way as well. “She’s got somewhere she needs to be, a knitting group.”

  Lloyd ticks his head to the side. “Thank God for small mercies.”

  They share a rumbling laugh on the psychotic’s behalf and I’d join them on the effort, but I just so happen to be heading to the very same knitting group.

  Rats.

  It’s as if I can’t escape her.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Lloyd.” I flash a warm, yet brief, smile his way. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  He closes his eyes a moment. “Craig was a good guy. He had a lot of good days left in front of him.”

  A thought comes to me. “Shep, what did Craig do for a living? I know Oliver mentioned they were partners, but other than that, was he in the force like the two of you?”

  “He wasn’t in the force.” Shep looks to Lloyd. “What was he up to?”

  Lloyd gives the back of his neck a quick scratch before he looks my way.

  “Craig came from money. Not a lot but enough to give him a financial cushion the rest of us didn’t have once we graduated. He got his BA and went straight into i
nvesting—apartment buildings mostly, and that’s how he came to be silent partners with Oliver.”

  I nod. “I heard. It’s nice that he was helping out a friend.”

  “He helped out a couple of friends,” Lloyd offers before turning to Shep. “James was one of them.”

  Shep lifts his chin. “And what did they do? I know James is still a deputy, but I had no idea he had a side gig.”

  Lloyd chuckles. “That’s some side gig. James has a brother that got sick and decided to sell his maple farm. James wanted to keep it in the family but needed an investor, and that’s when Craig stepped in. That was pretty much the end of their friendship.”

  “The end?” My antenna goes up. “Something went awry?”

  Lloyd’s cheek flickers. “You could say that. Craig wanted to run the place, and soon enough he was trying to buy James out. And like I said, James wanted to keep it in the family.”

  Shep ticks his ear up a notch. “You’re not implying James had something to do with Craig’s death, are you?”

  “No way.” Lloyd lifts his hands. “I’m staying clear of that accusation. I’m just saying James and Craig were locking horns. Unfortunate all the way around.” He takes a breath and his chest expands the size of a wall. “How about we change the subject to something a little cheerier.” He gives Shep’s shoulder a jostle. “I just spoke to Nora down at the homicide division to see how the case was going and she let me know they’re stretched thin. So how about it? You up for coming back to do a few good deeds with the rest of us?”

  Shep inches back as if he were considering it. “No one’s offered me a job.” Shep looks my way with a sigh. “I’m not sure I’d take it.”

  “Why not?” Lloyd is right back to smacking Shep on the shoulder. “I spoke with Sheriff Harris. He says the door is always open to you.”

  “Wow”—I muse—“that’s a huge compliment.”

  Shep shakes his head as if it wasn’t.

  I’m about to laugh or roll my eyes when that all too familiar warm, fuzzy feeling takes over and I can feel myself falling into a pleasantly numb trance.

  A vision appears in my mind’s eye, and it’s Lloyd with a grief-stricken look on his face. “You killed Craig. You did this. How dare you try to weasel out of it. And you’re not going to kill me. I won’t let you.”