Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  Tilly moves her whole head in that direction, which makes sense seeing that we’ve lost control over most of the functions that go along with our eyeballs.

  “Well, get over there, girl,” she whispers right back. “There’s an empty seat next to him.”

  I don’t need to be told twice. I boot-scoot my way in that direction and fall into the seat next to him with an unceremonious thump. Oddly enough, it’s as if my lack of ocular control is impeding my other motor capacities as well.

  James glances my way and lets out a guttural cry while nearly bouncing out of his seat.

  “I come in peace.” I do my best not to squeeze my eyes shut as I say it. I’m pretty sure that would reset the clock on this permanent disaster. If my lashes don’t stand up straight as sticks after this, I might just sue both the salon and Tilly. Tilly first.

  “Geez. That looks painful.” He leans in my way, his bushy brows wiggling over his head like dark caterpillars trying to make a getaway.

  “It is.” Most of the pain coincides with the humiliation factor, but he doesn’t need to know that. Right now I’m gunning for sympathy. “Hey, aren’t you Shep’s friend? Shepherd Wexler is my fiancé. He’s actually the reason I’ve taken my eyelashes hostage. I’m getting all dolled up and rewired for a spicy night out.” First, I have never, ever used the word spicy like that in a sentence before. And second, that whole sexy night out with Wexler doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

  Most likely my night will not pan out that way. It will just be me, cross-stitching if I still have my sight by then. And if I’m lucky, I will have succeeded in cat-napping one of Opal’s precious kitties so I can engage in some serious cuddle time. I miss cuddling with warm bodies. And yes, the sad state of my life dictates that I resort to a hostage situation in order to do it.

  “The Wexler.” James laughs to himself and shakes his head as if reliving some perverted memory. “Well, you tell him James says hello. And tell him it’s not too late to sign up for the calendar. The sheriff’s department is putting together a calendar of shirtless deputies that comes out next year. I hear they’re courting him once again after he solved the case last month out in Starry Falls. If he plays his cards right, he could be Mr. July.”

  Mr. July.

  I make a face at the thought.

  Not to be a know-it-all, but I solved that case last month out in Starry Falls.

  “I’ll be sure to tell him,” I say. “Did you hear the funeral for Craig Walker is set for Friday?”

  “Sure did. I’m looking forward to the tacos, too.” He rubs his belly, and there’s a faint look in his eye that suggests his friends should kick the bucket more often. “I’m already saving up my appetite. Craig and I went out for tacos every Tuesday. That was sort of our thing.”

  “It sounds like you got along really well. It’s sad to lose a friend like that, too. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “There’s not a lot you can do. And we did get along well, for the most part. Craig had a reputation for being stubborn. Once he got something in his head, there was no changing his mind. That’s what killed him,” he says under his breath.

  Sounds as if he knows exactly what did Craig in.

  “I heard he was stubborn as well.” I nod as if I were truly in the know about the poor dead guy’s stubborn streak. “Oliver mentioned something about it.”

  He huffs as he glances to the ceiling. “I guess Oliver would know. Craig had been dropping by Oliver’s latest construction project pretty regularly and they were going at it.”

  “I heard that, too.” I bite down on my lip, trying to find a delicate way to segue to what might just be women trouble. “Shep said there was a woman at the nexus of their fallout.” Nexus is totally a word Shep would use without batting a lash, not that I could bat them, but let’s hope James falls for it.

  “Shep knew?” James leans in hard as if we were in the throes of sharing a juicy little morsel and I think we just might be.

  “Yup. He said it was some chick they both knew and liked, and I guess it progressed from there.”

  His cheek glides up one side as he shakes his head.

  “He’s got the details out of order. But it’s close enough.”

  Close! I’m so close I can feel it.

  I clear my throat. “Shep mentioned the woman was coming around the construction site—and that she sort of got in the middle of it with Craig and Oliver.”

  “Kadie’s place?” His brows hike. “Yup, Craig was there, all right. And a woman got into the middle of it, all right.” He chuckles to himself. “But Oliver wasn’t a part of the equation, and Craig wasn’t seeing her either. He wasn’t even interested. Craig was always coloring inside the lines. He was there trying to make his friend see the light. It’s not right what they’re doing.”

  “Not right…” I let the words marinate in my mind. Why would it not be right if Craig wasn’t seeing her? A thought hits me and I suck in a quick breath. “Whoever she is, she’s a married woman!”

  He snaps his fingers before shooting me with them.

  “You’re a smart one. Tell Shep I said he should keep you.”

  Before I can add or subtract anything from the conversation, I’m shuttled back to the electric chair by one of the salon workers as she quickly rinses the solution from my lashes. She removes all the doodads and slaps a couple of warm towels over my eyes, and by the time she lifts them, I note that James has done a disappearing act.

  Great. Just when I was about to get to the good part.

  Tilly and I fly within an inch of the mirror to inspect the salon’s handiwork and gasp in unison.

  Sure enough, each and every one of our lashes is pointing straight to the ceiling as if that were their job.

  “Holy smokes!” Tilly says with a wide-eyed surprise that I suppose is inevitable at this point. “We’re hot stuff!”

  “You said it, sister.”

  “So now where?” I ask, angling to get a better look at the lash miracle that seems to have taken place. “I say we go somewhere to show off our new eyelash do’s.”

  “Every last chemically treated hair on my head agrees. Get ready to be catcalled until the rest of your hairs stand on end. I’m taking you to a construction site.”

  Chapter 14

  The temperature outside seems to be rising as Tilly and I hop back into Wanda. But I’m not having her take us back to Starry Falls. Instead, we do a little internet wizardry and end up at Kadie Beaumont’s house, happy to discover it’s a construction zone indeed.

  Men in hard hats walk to and fro carrying beams of wood and hammers and other paraphernalia that has Tilly hyperventilating at the sight of them all.

  There’s a man out front speaking to someone in a hard hat, and I can’t tell if either of them is Oliver Kincaid from this vantage point.

  The neighborhood is a suburban oasis. Nothing but neatly manicured emerald lawns, white picket fences, and houses that look twice as large as they need to be. There’s a minivan parked in just about every driveway on the street and a few women are out pushing strollers with dogs waddling by their sides.

  “This is where I thought I’d end up in life,” I bemoan the fact as if I were truly grieving it.

  “Here?” Tilly gives a quick look around with new eyes as if we had suddenly transported to Mars. “Eh. You can still end up here if you want. Shep makes the big bucks. It would be a commute to the manor for you, but once you start spitting out mini Sheps from your belly, you’ll want to stay home to herd them.”

  “Herd them?”

  “Sure. That’s what you do with kids.” She wrinkles her nose. “Heck, you’ll have enough money, I’m sure you can talk Shep into installing an electric fence to keep the critters in.”

  A dull laugh bucks through me. “You make suburban life sound like so much fun. Will you still hang out with me when I’m no longer cool?”

  “Ah, honey, you’re not that cool now,” she says in her sweetest voice. “But don’t you worry. Once I’
m through with you, you’ll be so cool you’ll be white-hot on fire.”

  “It’s good to know I can always count on you to keep me humble.”

  I glance back as the men part ways.

  “I’d better get out there. Wait here, Tilly.”

  “Are you crazy? Have you seen the beefcake roaming the vicinity? You do what you gotta do, and I’ll do what I gotta do.” She unbuttons her blouse a few notches and shoots out of the door like a greased cannonball.

  Never mind Tilly. Killer or no killer, that girl can take care of herself.

  The house itself looks like mid-century, a single story that is growing too big for its britches with a skeleton attachment growing out of its side, and I’m presuming behind as well.

  The front door sits wide open as the man who was standing there a few moments ago emerges with keys in hand and shuts it.

  “Excuse me?” I call out.

  He looks my way and offers an affable smile. He’s tall, has a thick head of dirty blond hair, half-moons for eyes when he smiles, and elongated dimples on either side of his mouth.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Oh, I was actually looking for Kadie—or Oliver.” Either one will do.

  “You just missed Oliver. He’s gone for the day. But Kadie is picking up the girls. She should be back soon.”

  “She sure loves those girls,” I say it like I mean it.

  “We both do.” He frowns as he steps off the porch. “They’re the glue that keeps this family together.”

  The glue? That sounded as harsh as it did loving.

  He lets out a hard sigh. “You probably know about the separation. It wasn’t a secret. But things are back to where they should be between us.” He frowns as if maybe they weren’t.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, genuinely shocked to hear the news. “I mean, I’m really glad the two of you were able to iron things out.”

  “I am, too.”

  An awkward silence fills the space between us.

  “Well”—I give a quick glance over my shoulder in the event Kadie is back in the vicinity—“I was just coming by to tell her about the funeral this Friday. My fiancé went to school with her. I was in town and he thought it would be nice if I told her in person. Same with Oliver.”

  He sucks a quick breath through his teeth. “I heard about the tragedy. Poor guy.”

  “Did you know Craig Walker?”

  “Not really.” He ticks his head to the side and holds it there a second. “He came around here a few times, mostly to check up on the progress. He hung out with Oliver and James out back.”

  “James Palmer? The deputy?” The very same deputy who all but told me an hour ago that Craig was chastising someone who was coming around this very construction site for having an affair with a married woman? Could it have been James that Craig was trying to dissuade from carrying on the affair?

  “Yeah, he and his partner went to school with Kadie. I travel for work and they keep an eye out on things when I’m gone. It makes me feel better knowing they’re around.”

  “It would me, too.” Unless one of them was sleeping with my spouse.

  He glances back. “Why don’t you stick around? She’ll be back in about ten minutes. The house is unlocked. We’ve got a construction crew moving in and out, but they won’t mind. I’ve got to get across town. It was nice meeting you.” He gives a curt nod before taking off.

  We didn’t technically exchange names, but that’s beside the point. I know for a fact he’s Skip Ryan, Kadie’s husband—or at least I surmised as much.

  He hops into his sedan and leaves a trail of dust in his wake as he takes off down the street.

  My heart pounds erratically as I glance to the door. He said I was welcome to go inside. And for reasons unknown to me, I’m motivated to do just that.

  I head on in to find a rather clean and spacious oasis, vaulted ceiling, white marble floors in the entry, and gray distressed wood just beyond that. There’s a grand room up ahead with a stone-covered fireplace, chunky white sofas, and a sleek black television hanging on the wall. To the right, there’s an elongated hall with cathedral ceilings and I head that way with nothing but the clip-clop of my footsteps to keep me company. I pass a few closed doors until I hit the room on the end, presumably the master bedroom, and I peer inside. A king-size bed sits to the left with a fluffy white comforter and white enamel nightstands. It’s pretty much bare, with the exception of a stuffed recliner in the corner with a jacket lying over it. To the right, the room opens up to a bathroom the size of my cabin, and I find myself in the middle of it without warning.

  It’s as if my feet have a mind of their own. And before I know it, my hands are pulling open drawers as if they, too, were here on some reconnaissance mission I’m not privy to.

  But when you get right down to it, I’m well aware of what I’m looking for. This situation may feel like an out-of-body experience, but there is something I have a hunch about.

  I glide open the last drawer next to the wall and there they are—an entire collection of gold SMACK lipstick tubes.

  Sure, just about anybody could have purchased one and dropped it in that dark hall where Craig was killed, but just about anybody wasn’t seen having an animated conversation with Craig Walker that night—Kadie was.

  And I’ll bet all the cats at Mortimer Manor that the lipstick tube I saw lying just feet away from Craig’s body belonged to the woman who lives in this house.

  I pull my phone out and take a picture of the golden loot, and then I run like hell all the way out of there.

  Somebody killed Craig Walker, and I’m starting to think the killer just might be a woman.

  Chapter 15

  Once Tilly and I got back to Starry Falls, I dropped her off at home before driving home myself. I figure I should take advantage of the fact Regina is in charge of the café, and this way I won’t have to finish off the day by her ornery side.

  No sooner do I park and hop out of Wanda than Shep pulls up and steps out of his truck carrying a large pizza box.

  His brows pinch as he inspects me.

  “Are you up for dinner?” He hikes the box in the air a few inches.

  “That depends if you’re having a side of Hilary to go with that pizza.”

  His cheek flickers. “Nope. I’ve had my fill.”

  A dark laugh brews in my chest as I follow him over to his cabin.

  He leans my way. “Wow, Bowie. You’re eyes—they’re beautiful.”

  My lips part at the seemingly genuine compliment. I guess it was worth having my eyelashes chemically frozen after all.

  I’m about to thank him when the faint hint of a meow comes from somewhere behind me and I turn to see an adorable, albeit unnaturally pink, Scottish Fold.

  I gasp with delight. “Shep, it’s Pixie!”

  “Yup.” He nods her way. “The cats come around now and again. Opal’s menagerie likes to fan out over the entire town.” He quickly unlocks the door. “I have some kibble if you want to feed her.”

  “Heck, yes, I want to feed her. I want to steal her, or in the least borrow her.”

  Shep steps inside before emerging with a small bowl filled with cat kibble and Pixie quickly runs toward it.

  “Lure her inside,” I whisper.

  Shep does as he’s told, and as soon as that cute cat crests the threshold, I entomb the three of us inside.

  “We got her!” I bounce around in a circle and Shep looks both amused and aroused.

  “How about we eat our dinner while she eats hers?” He nods me over to his sofa, and in a blink the two of us are stuffing our bellies with a sausage and mushroom dream.

  “Mmm,” I moan. “So good. Did you splurge for extra cheese?”

  “You bet I did. I don’t mess around.”

  I shrug over him. “I bet Hilary wishes you did. Can I ask how things are going? If you’re going to nix our wedding plans, I’d like to be the first to know.”

  “You’re safe for now.” He give
s a little wink. “And I don’t mind you asking. I’m not interested in Hil. We’re old news.”

  “I don’t think she got the memo.” Something in me stirs because even though Shep isn’t remotely interested in me, I’m relieved on some level he’s not interested in Hilary. There are far better women out there who are much more suited for him like… Oh, what the heck, me.

  Shep glowers at the fireplace. “I guess I should spell it out for her. I’ve been helping with her book. She’s not a bad writer. It’s always been a dream of hers. That was our connection way back when.”

  “And she’s using it as your connection now. Why don’t you give her the name of someone who can help her and be done with it?”

  A crooked smile curves into his cheek. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s change the subject to another old friend of yours.” I’m about to mention the deceased when a sharp yowl emerges from somewhere near my feet and onto my lap hops pink little Pixie.

  “Whoa!” I giggle like a schoolgirl. “You almost jumped into my pizza.” I quickly land my plate on the coffee table and pull the purring little princess close. “Oh, you are adorable. I just love your little ears and your little nose and that cute little face of yours.”

  Pixie whips me with her pink tail as she rubs her face against my arm.

  I look over at Shep. “Do you think Opal will kill us?”

  “No.” He narrows his brows at the thought. “I’ve fed half of her cats, and they’ve stayed around my place for days at a time before. She doesn’t mind. She’s just glad they’re happy. Opal might be tough, but she’s no killer.”

  “Speaking of killers. Somebody took down your friend. How is the investigation going? Have you spoken with Nora again?” A part of me is curious if he’s going to take her up on her offer and take the position at the homicide division.

  “No, I haven’t.” Shep’s thick, dark hair catches the light, and it looks glossy and soft and my fingers are begging to run through it. Shep’s features are just chiseled enough to give him high cheekbones, but mostly they’re hidden under that dark scruff peppered over his face. He’s a man’s man. In no way is he a pretty boy, but those perpetual bedroom eyes might just qualify him as both. “But since Craig was my friend, I thought I’d look into a few things.”