Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  Shep mentioned a few weeks back that although he’s not at the homicide division, he does have his PI license. I’m sure it could come in handy if he needed to speak with the right person.

  “Tell me what you got,” I say, giving Pixie a pat between the ears. I’ve never had a cat before, but now that I’ve been exposed to their furry wonder, I don’t think I could ever live a day without one. Good thing I’ve got Opal to fill my supply.

  He reaches over and gives Pixie a gentle scratch over her back.

  “I spoke with Craig’s brother Derick. He’s in Iowa,” he says. “He mentioned Craig had recently run into some financial trouble. He was over-investing—took out a bad loan and wanted out.”

  “Okay, so maybe the guys he took the loan from did this.”

  “I don’t know. I thought about it, too. But Derick said something along the lines of the investment in question having dark underpinnings. He said those were Craig’s exact words and that he wanted to get out from under it.”

  “Interesting.” I kiss one of Pixie’s tiny ears. “I know he was in business with Oliver,” I say. “Oliver said that he and Craig were at odds about how the business was run. Oliver could have lost his temper and shot him.”

  “Could have.” Shep leans back into the sofa. “He was in business with James, too.”

  “The maple farm,” I muse. “You know, I just so happened to bump into James Palmer today at the salon over in Maple Grove.”

  Shep gives a long blink.

  “Bowie,” he says it low with a touch of frustration in his tone. “What were you doing in a salon out in Maple Grove?”

  “Would you believe me if I said I was electrocuting my eyelashes so I could look good for my fiancé?”

  “No.” He squints over at my lashes. “But I do believe that’s a byproduct of the real reason you were there.”

  “You really are a good detective.” I take a moment to snuggle with Pixie. “Anyway, James was getting his chest waxed. He says the sheriff’s department is putting out a calendar, and if you play your employment cards right, you could be Mr. July.” I bite down on a smile. “No clothes, a well-positioned flag. I can see it now. You’d incite quite the riot as the women of Starry Falls all clamor for an issue.”

  “I’m not inciting a riot. No to the calendar. Go on.”

  I make a face. “I told him I heard Oliver and Craig were fighting over a woman.”

  “You heard that?” His eyes widen a notch.

  “From Kadie. Anyway, James said that wasn’t the case at all. He said Craig was trying to talk another friend out of seeing some woman. He said it wasn’t right. So I got to thinking. Why wouldn’t it be right? And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense this woman is married.” I motion over to him as if expecting him to finish my train of thought, but he’s right back to glowering. “Shep, I think the woman is Kadie.”

  “What?” He inches back as if I caught him off guard. “Kadie Beaumont?”

  “Kadie Ryan.” I nod. “I spoke to her husband this afternoon and he said—”

  “Bowie.” His voice hits its lower register, and judging by those bulging eyes of his, he’s not too thrilled with me. “Why are you investigating this case?”

  “I’m not investigating this case. I was simply out that way. Tilly wanted to see a few hot construction workers, and I happened to know where to find them.”

  “You’re endangering Tilly, too?”

  “There’s safety in numbers. What did they teach you in school?”

  “Bowie, a killer doesn’t care what you learned in school. Right now, they think they’ve gotten away with murder and they want to keep it that way. If they figure out you’re onto them, you could have a target on your back.”

  “I’ve already got a couple of targets on my back, what’s another? Besides, I had the man’s blood on my hands, or my dress as it were. I just want to clear my name. And despite my connections to the mob, I happen to appreciate the finer points of the law. I want to bring the killer to justice.”

  “Nora doesn’t really think you did this. You don’t have to prove your innocence. I’m vouching for you.”

  “But I’m a suspect.”

  “And you never rule out a suspect in an active homicide investigation.” Shep closes his eyes a moment too long. “Okay, what did Skip have to say?”

  “He said he and Kadie were separated for some time, but that they’re back together. He made it sound as if it was for the kids. I could have told him that never works, but what do I know? I’ve got a fake fiancé, and the closest thing I’ve ever had to a kid is this stolen cat.” I take a moment to kiss her tiny face and she squints her eyes at me.

  Shep takes a deep breath and expands his chest as wide as a football field.

  “Okay. Private Investigator Binx, who else are you looking at?”

  “Kadie?” I shake my head. “You’ll never believe what I found while I was snooping in her bathroom.”

  “Bowie?” His voice hikes a notch. “Tell me she was fully aware you were in there.”

  “No.” I give his leg a little kick. “Why would she let me roam freely through her house? Anyway, her husband did, and I found an entire drawer full of SMACK lipstick.”

  He frowns. “And?”

  “And—it’s the very same lipstick I saw near the body the night of the murder.”

  Shep grunts as he shakes his head, “Bowie, it was dark. You thought you saw it. After you mentioned it, I went back in and didn’t see a thing. I even poured through the crime scene photos. It wasn’t there. It might have been the way the light was shining in from behind. Our eyes do their best to make sense of the dark, and you were panicked. It could have been a mistake.”

  “It wasn’t a mistake. And it wasn’t dark. I shined my flashlight over it before I left the hall. The only thing I can think of is that maybe it got kicked away when the deputies stormed the area.”

  He inverts his lips a moment. “I don’t know. They’re trained not to tamper with evidence or remove it. The hall was narrow. Nobody would have removed it.”

  I nod. “Unless the killer made her way back.”

  “And by ‘killer’, you mean Kadie Beaumont?”

  “You said it, not me.”

  Shep’s mouth opens and closes. “She didn’t do it.” Judging by his irregular inflection, he’s not so sure.

  “You never rule out a suspect in an active homicide investigation.”

  He dips his chin, looking particularly vexed with yours truly.

  “And there’s Hilary.” I shrug. “I don’t have a motive for her, but I wouldn’t be too broken up if she ended up behind bars.”

  Shep chuckles. “Don’t say a word, but neither would I.”

  We share a quiet laugh on Hilary’s behalf while giving Pixie all the attention she deserves, and I reflect back on those strange visions I had. The one I had back at the reunion itself.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” a female voice calls out, and all I see is Oliver Kincaid before me 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.”

  So strange. Oliver could be the killer. He didn’t get along with Craig. But then, most people don’t get along with someone and we’re not living in a world full of killers.

  Then there was the vision I had with Lloyd in it. He had 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.”

  But by the sound of that second vision, Lloyd is not only talking to the killer, he might just be in trouble.

  One thing is for sure—somebody killed Craig Walker, and whatever their motive was, it was personal.

  I’m going to make sure the killer gets nailed to a wall.

  At this point, it’s personal for me, too.

  I take off for
my cabin, crash in bed and dream of Sexy Wexy and those steamy kisses he’s too stingy to dole out on the regular.

  The next morning I wake up to find a note pinned to my front door.

  I am watching you.

  And I wonder who exactly it is doing just that.

  Chapter 16

  The True Life Chapel in Woodley is brimming with bodies, all of them very much alive—save for the one in the casket. The church itself is a humble A-frame structure with dark wood beams gliding over a stark white ceiling. The carpet is orange and due for a change, the pews are pale oak, and the altar consists of a plain wooden cross. The air-conditioning is on so high it could keep a glacier intact, and the scent of something minty stirs in the air.

  A casket lies open at the base of the altar, and from where I’m standing, Craig Walker has that rosy glow only death and cheap cosmetics can give you.

  A familiar older woman makes her way toward Tilly and me with a black dress made of mesh metal and black feathers sprouting off her shoulders as she strides over. Her eyelids are caked with dark purple eye shadow, and she’s wearing lipstick to match. And she happens to have a giant silver tote bag dripping off her shoulder.

  “Opal Mortimer,” I say, taking her in. “Fancy meeting you here. I didn’t know you knew the deceased.”

  She waves me off. “Oh, I didn’t. But as soon as Regina told me where you two were headed, I got all gussied up. I do love me a good funeral. Why should you girls have all the fun?”

  Her bag squirms and Opal quickly plucks out a black and white tuxedo cat.

  I suck in a quick breath. “I’ve heard of purse puppies but never a purse kitty.”

  “Hey, Nibbles.” Tilly leans in and dots his head with a kiss. “You’re looking dapper for the occasion.”

  Opal pulls the bored-looking feline to her chest. “That’s why I chose Nibbles for the event. He’s always so well dressed.” She cranes her neck toward the front. “I’d best pay my respects. It looks as if the show is about to begin.” She speeds off toward the casket and I look to Tilly.

  “The show?”

  She shrugs. “She’s not wrong. I’ve been to a few of these myself. They can be quite entertaining.”

  “Well, thanks for coming with me.” I glance back to see Shep speaking with Lloyd and Oliver while Kadie and Hilary circle them like sharks.

  Tilly leans in. “Is that the girl that’s having the affair?” she whispers and I’m quick to nod.

  “I think so.” And I’m wondering if James got it wrong and Kadie is, in fact, having an affair with Oliver? Unless, of course, she’s having it with James himself.

  Hey? Skip Ryan mentioned that whenever he was out of town he was glad that James and his partner were coming around to keep an eye on Kadie and the kids.

  Huh. I bet James was coming around—and heading right into Kadie’s bedroom.

  Of course, James wasn’t going to admit it to me. Why would he?

  I think back on the conversation.

  James also mentioned that Craig was trying to talk this mystery friend of his into backing out of the relationship they were having—with Kadie, I think—because she’s married.

  And Shep mentioned that Craig wanted out of a bad business deal because it was dicey. The more I learn about Craig, the more it sounds as if he was an upstanding guy.

  Moody music filters in through the speakers and everyone quickly takes their seats. Shep comes over and sits next to me and, sure enough, come hell or high water, Hilary lands on the other side of him.

  Figures.

  She’s harder to get rid of than head lice. But I’ve won a few battles with head lice in my day, and I’m sure I’ll win this one, too—even if it is a hollow win. Shep’s not interested in her. He’s still faux engaged to me. That’s got to count for something, and in this new fake life of mine, it sort of does.

  The pastor gives his spiel. A few relatives and friends say a few kind words. Lloyd is up next at bat in a dark inky suit, the butt of his gun exposed on his hip. He’s muscular and his bald head has a touch of a mirror shine to it as he sheds a sorrowful smile over at the crowd.

  “It’s good to see all of the familiar faces that have come out this afternoon to pay our final respects to someone that most of us grew up with. Craig was a good guy, one of the best.” He segues into a few heartfelt vignettes that involve high school baseball, a party that ended in a cornfield, and a stolen golf cart ditty that has the crowd in stitches for a moment.

  He takes a wavering breath.

  “Those were the good times.” He dabs his eyes with a tissue and his cufflink glints in the light. “Craigy and I went through it all. We were even business partners for a short time. And in honor of that, we’ll be hosting happy hour all day this weekend, so come on down to my place, the Dirty Habit, and we’ll drink to a man who was a very good friend.”

  A light applause breaks out, and I take a moment to elbow Shep in the ribs.

  “He owns the Dirty Habit?” I whisper.

  He widens his eyes with surprise. “I did not know that.”

  Lloyd sniffs toward the crowd. “Craig, we miss you already, buddy. Until we meet again.” He holds up a finger to the crowd. “And don’t forget to vote for yours truly next fall for sheriff. We all know Craig would want it that way.”

  The crowd gives a light laugh as Lloyd takes his seat once again.

  The funeral wraps up and we’re all invited into the hall next door to enjoy the taco buffet. Judging by the way people are fighting to get to the exit, I’d say the tacos were a brilliant idea. Come to think of it, tacos are always a brilliant idea. I think it’s time to implement Taco Tuesday over at the café as well.

  We stand and Opal traipses over holding Nibbles close to her chest.

  “Oh, that was a wonderful, wonderful performance.” She sniffs back tears as Tilly pops up beside her. “Come now, let’s get our ta-cos and find a nice place to people-watch.” She exaggerates the word tacos and makes it sound wholly unrecognizable in the process. I’m not sure where Opal’s accent is from, but all I can figure is she got it from her previous tax bracket.

  Tilly leans my way. “There are some cute dudes here,” she hisses it out as if it made her angry. “And to think you were going to come without me.”

  They take off and I shrug over at Shep. “What can I say? They love a good funeral.” I lean in. “And you’ve got hot friends.”

  He scowls. Clearly, he is not amused.

  “Don’t worry, Detective Wexler. You’re pretty hot, too. They don’t call you Sexy Wexy for nothing.”

  His lips curve at the mention of his nickname. “They do?”

  “I do.” I give a little wink.

  Before he can respond, Hilary springs up with her hair coifed to perfection. She’s donned a little black dress that I’m guessing has gotten some mileage, and her blood red lips are quivering as she snuggles up to Shep. Her perfume is so sugary, it threatens to put both Shep and me in a casket of our own, or in the least rot all our teeth out.

  “How are you doing?” She sniffs his way while strumming her fingers over his tie. “I bet you need a stiff drink. How about we head over and grab a quick bite, and then maybe we’ll hit up that bar of Lloyd’s?”

  A tiny growl works its way up my throat.

  “I suppose the invite is good for me, too,” I say. “Considering I’m his fiancée and all.”

  She averts her eyes at the thought.

  But Shep doesn’t hesitate to side with his lying bride.

  “Of course.” Shep lands a soft kiss to my cheek. “But I think we’ll skip out on the drink.”

  “That’s right,” I say to Hilary with a satisfied smirk on my face. “We wouldn’t be caught dead in a seedy bar like that.” My mouth opens and closes once again and nothing comes out. “Okay, fine. It’s not entirely true. I’m probably most comfortable in a seedy bar like that. In fact, I’ve already been there and seen the seedy scene which held the atmosphere of a genuine brothel. I’v
e never been in a place with the feel of such dark underpinnings.” A breath hitches in my throat as Shep and I exchange a glance.

  It’s as if that conversation we had regarding what Craig’s brother said hits us both at the very same time.

  He mentioned that Craig was over-investing—took out a bad loan and wanted out. Craig’s brother said something along the lines of that investment in questionable places having dark underpinnings. He said those were Craig’s exact words, and that he wanted to get out from under it.

  Shep nods my way as if he just pried into my thoughts.

  He leans in. “Why don’t you head over to the hall and load up on enough tacos for the both of us? I’ve got a quick call to make to Nora.”

  I nod as he takes off and it’s just Hilary and me, save for Lloyd and a few people standing near the casket.

  Hilary huffs my way. “A man like that can be hard to hold onto. I’d watch my back if I were you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m not letting him slip through my fingers the way you did.” I’m about to take off when a wave of guilt takes over. I’ve been in Hilary’s shoes before—chasing a man I think I can’t breathe without, only to be left empty-handed. I pivot and turn her way. “Hilary, do yourself a favor and move on. If Shep was still interested in you, he wouldn’t hesitate whether or not I was in the picture. I’m not saying he would cheat on me, but he hasn’t exactly bowed out of our relationship either.” In fact, he’s fabricated it. But I keep that little fun piece of fiction to myself. “Go on and get out there. That hall is brimming full of handsome, eligible men. Or wait for someone new to come along. But don’t waste your time chasing after a man who isn’t interested. Shep Wexler is your past. You deserve a future.”

  She gasps and her mouth hangs open as if she were about to put me in my place. But she closes her eyes a moment instead.