Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

“You’re right.” She sighs as she holds out her arms. “I wasn’t even thinking about Craig when I picked this out. I was thinking about Shep. I’ve spent the last few weeks dreaming we would ride off into the sunset together, and he’s just too stubborn to go along with my plans.” She offers a mournful smile. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any pain.”

  I shake my head. “You haven’t.” I spot Oliver in the foyer. “Go and eat your fill of tacos. Not only do you deserve two or twenty, but I’m sure Craig would love for you to have your fill as well.”

  She gives a little laugh. “You’re right.” She nods in that direction. “Are you coming?”

  “I’ll be there in just a minute. Go on ahead.”

  I wait until she takes off before heading to the empty foyer where I see Oliver from behind, his thick cap of gray hair leaning in as he speaks to someone partially hidden by foliage. Their conversation seems to be animated as their murmured voices rise ever so higher.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” a female voice calls out.

  “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 as soon as he spots me, his affect brightens on a dime. “Well, look who’s here.”

  I suck in a quick breath.

  My vision! It’s just come true, and here I’m stuck in the middle of it.

  A woman steps from behind the silk ficus tree. It’s Kadie Beaumont with her dark hair slicked into a French knot, her lips a bright shade of fuchsia.

  “Oh, it’s you.” She waves me off. “Anyway.” She makes a face at Oliver. “My lips are sealed.” She nods knowingly at him before taking off back into the sanctuary.

  “Hey.” I shrug. “Everything okay? That looked pretty heated.”

  “Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s as okay as it’s going to get. I guess we should head next door.”

  “Actually.” I step in front of him. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” He offers an affable smile while his icy blue eyes look into mine. “Shoot.”

  “Shep and I didn’t realize that Lloyd and Craig both owned the Dirty Habit. Was that new?”

  He takes a deep breath as he frowns just past me. “They went in about a year ago. Craig was over extending himself. He wanted out.”

  A thought comes to me.

  “I bet it was more than just the financial situation that made him want out.” I lean in. “Just between you and me, that night I was there I thought it was a brothel.”

  He barks out a laugh, his entire body animating at the thought.

  “Well, I have to hand it to you”—he shakes his head wistfully—“you’re intuitive, I’ll give you that much.”

  My insides seize.

  Knew it!

  There is something fifty shades of shady happening at that dive bar. No wonder Craig wanted out of it. I’m shocked Lloyd doesn’t want out of it considering he’s running for sheriff.

  Something Skip said to me crops up in my mind, and I freeze solid.

  He said he felt better about leaving Kadie and the kids while he was out of town because James and his partner were coming around all the time.

  “Oliver? Who is James’ partner down at the sheriff’s department?”

  “It’s Lloyd Jackson.” He takes a step toward the exit. “Are you coming to the hall?”

  “I’ll be there in the minute.”

  He takes off, and I step back toward the mouth of the sanctuary.

  There they are. The exact two people I think I need to speak to.

  I wonder which one pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 17

  The inside of the True Life Chapel feels just as cold as the walk-in freezer at the Manor Café. But it’s nowhere near as cold as a killer’s heart. And now that I know what I do, it makes me wonder if there were two killers after all.

  Could there be two killers if only one pulled the trigger? Surely the other would be merely an accessory but just as culpable.

  The sanctuary is seemingly barren, save for the open casket where Craig Walker lies with his hands crossed over his chest, and as I make my way toward the altar, I can’t help but examine him.

  There he lies, so eerily still.

  My eyes dare his chest to move, to rise slowly as it might if he were sleeping. A small part of my brain can’t get around the idea that the human body before me, with this rosy glow, is no longer capable of any bodily function—even a simple one such as breathing. My heart breaks for the handsome man in the casket, gone far too soon before his time.

  Other than the casket, the altar is sparse, save for the wooden pulpit with a Bible sitting on top of it the size of a cinder block.

  The voices to my left pick up, and I slowly make my way over toward an open door just off the altar. They’re bickering, that much is clear. It’s the voice of a man and that of a woman. And I have a feeling I know exactly who they are.

  I pin my back to the wall and carefully peer into the opened door. Sure enough, there stands Lloyd Jackson not three feet from me with a grief-stricken look on his face as he speaks with Kadie.

  “You killed Craig,” he says it loud as can be. “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.”

  Ha! My other vision! I’m two-for-two today.

  My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I look to the two of them.

  Kadie killed Craig?

  “I’m not killing you,” she snaps. “And I’m not weaseling out of anything. I’m asking you to stay away.”

  I need to text Shep right away. My fingers fumble with my phone and it goes airborne and lands right inside the tiny room they’re congregating in.

  Awkward.

  The two of them look my way and I give a little wave.

  “Hi there,” I say it a touch too cheery. “Sorry to interrupt. I think this is mine.” I point down to the phone, and before I can swipe it off the ground, Lloyd beats me to it.

  “This yours?” The muscles in his jaw flinch as he offers a forced smile.

  He holds it close to himself as if he wanted me to step deeper into the room to get it.

  No thank you.

  There’s no way I’m falling for that one.

  Instead, I walk backward and land onto the altar as Lloyd and Kadie follow me out.

  Her chest heaves hard as she looks my way with eyes as round as nickels.

  “You heard,” she pants. “You heard everything, didn’t you?”

  “No”—I shake my head, trying to refute it, but it’s no use—“I mean, I heard that tidbit at the end, something about he won’t let you.” I shrug it off as if I had no interest in their murderous conversation.

  Kadie groans hard as she looks to Lloyd.

  “She heard it all.” She shakes her head my way. “You know.”

  My breathing picks up and my gaze shifts to the exit. It’s so far, it might as well be a football field away. I glance to poor Craig lying cold in his casket, then at the two before me and my blood begins to boil.

  “Know what?” I can feel the old me rising to the surface—the one that doesn’t take anything from anyone no matter what the consequences. “That the two of you killed Craig?”

  There. I said it.

  Like ripping off a bandage.

  Both Lloyd and Kadie solidify looks of horror on their faces.

  “So who pulled the trigger?” I figure I might as well ask. I’ve come this far into the deep end. Why stop now? “Was it you?” I nod to Lloyd. “You’re my guess.”

  He holds a hand out toward Kadie’s midsection as if to hold her back and the glint of his cufflink catches my eye—his triangular cufflink.

  “It was you I saw arguing with him the day of the murder.” My chest heaves as I struggle for my next breath. “I saw your cufflinks. You were having it out with him right behind the buffet.”

  Lloyd frowns over at Kadie a moment. “So what? Lots of people didn’t get along
with Craig. Look, I don’t know what you think you heard, but clearly this is all a misunderstanding.”

  “Was it a misunderstanding?” All of the conversations I’ve had with the suspects over the past few weeks come flooding to the forefront of my mind. “You and Craig were partners in the Dirty Habit. He wanted out. He said it was a financial burden and he shook you down for cash, didn’t he?”

  Lloyd squints over at me. “Everyone knew we were partners in the bar, Bowie. That’s hardly a motive to kill the guy.” He laughs it off. “Now let’s go find Shep and dive into those tacos before they get cold.”

  “No. You—you wanted to keep the bar going. I’m betting you didn’t bail him out of that loan. And I’m betting you didn’t buy him out either.” Another thought comes to me. “You know about the working girls, don’t you?”

  Kadie shakes her head his way. “What girls? What is she talking about?”

  “Lloyd is letting the ladies of the night work his bar,” I’m quick to tell her. “Oh my God”—I gasp his way— “you’re getting a cut, aren’t you? You’re a glorified pimp!” A silent laugh bucks through me.

  Lloyd gives a nervous laugh. “What? Come on. Now you’re really reaching. Look, anything shady going on at that place happens without me knowing about it.” He smirks as if to dare me to defy him. I’ve seen that very same smirk on the face of just about every mobster in Jersey. I know a scumbag when I see one.

  “Oh, you knew about it.” I shake my head in disbelief. “That’s why Craig told his brother that he wanted out. He said it wasn’t just the money. He said there were dark underpinnings in the bar, and those women and their nefarious dealings are exactly what he was talking about.” I examine the two of them, their proximity to one another. “And you were having an affair. Craig tried to talk you out of it.” My eyes flit to Kadie. “And that’s where you come in. You were cheating on your husband—in a marriage that hardly came back from a separation if it wasn’t for the girls. Your husband told me as much. You were on the cusp of getting caught. Craig knew about it. Hilary, I’m guessing did—others probably know, too. That night at that restaurant, you said you’d do anything for your girls. Does that include murder, Kadie? Is that why one of your tubes of SMACK lipstick was found near the body?”

  She lets out a cry as she turns to Lloyd. “I thought you said you took care of it?”

  “I did,” he snips before looking to me with his chin dipped a notch, sweat beaded along his upper lip, and a rabid look in his eyes that lets me know I’ve gone too far and there is no going back.

  “Okay, Bowie,” he breathes it out low and measured as if we were in the middle of hostage negotiations. “You got it right. Craig and I owned the bar. With him gone, I don’t have to mortgage my life. Craig was a jackass when he wanted to be. Always sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. What the hell did it hurt him to run a dating service in the bar?” He lays a heavy emphasis on the words dating service and lets me know I was right about the brothel. “Who the heck cares? And who was he to tell me who I could and couldn’t sleep with?” His voice hikes an octave and swims around the cavernous room as if it were an echo chamber. “Kadie has the girls to think about. We didn’t need him ratting us out.”

  “No.” I shake my head once again. “I’m not buying it. I’m sorry, Kadie, but I don’t think he cares about those girls as much as he claims to. If he did, he would respect their father and wait until you left the guy before he started entertaining you in the bedroom. The only thing you cared about, Lloyd, was keeping your name clean. You’re running for sheriff. You can’t be known as the brothel king, or the other man. Craig knew too much. He was dangerous, and that is why you killed him.”

  Kadie groans as she hooks her gaze to his. “You said it was for love. That we had to do it to protect ourselves. You didn’t say anything about the bar. And are you kidding me? You’re running prostitutes through that place? What kind of a stepfather are you going to make? What the hell is wrong with you?” She glances my way. “Now what do we do about her? I’m sorry, Bowie. I’m not losing my girls—not to Skip, not to prison.”

  My feet begin in a backward trajectory as I slowly try to remove myself from their presence.

  I shouldn’t have said any of that.

  I shouldn’t have confronted them alone with nothing but a corpse to have my back literally.

  And judging by the way they’re both steadily moving in my direction, I’m feeling a sudden onset of consequences coming on.

  “Don’t worry, Kadie”—Lloyd slips his hand behind his back— “I’ll take care of this.” In the blink of an eye, I’m staring down the barrel of a gun.

  “Oh God,” I whimper as my hands begin to rise.

  I’m pretty sure my Uncle Vinnie will be disappointed to learn I never made it to Canada. That I got waylaid by a friendly town, by a sexy neighbor, and that I got shot on the altar of a Protestant church next to an open casket. I don’t know how many mirrors I broke as a child or how many ladders I inadvertently walked under, but I’m up to my eyeballs in bad luck and I don’t even believe in that stuff.

  “Oh God did you say?” Lloyd pumps a dry laugh from his throat. “You’re in His house. And in a moment you’ll be in His arms. Don’t worry, Bowie. I’ll make it quick. I didn’t let Craig suffer, and I won’t let you suffer either.”

  He takes a step out and steadies his arms, but I don’t wait for the boom. Instead, I leap like one of Opal’s many cats and land on the other side of the casket.

  Kadie runs after me and makes an abrupt stop at the pulpit to pick up that cinder block of a Bible.

  Lloyd darts for me, the barrel of that gun zooming in for the kill, and in a panic I trip and knock the casket right off the pedestal and toward the floor.

  “Freeze!” a deep voice booms at the very same time and I glance up to see Shep pointing his weapon in this direction, Nora doing the same behind him.

  And before I can say anything, before Craig Walker can hit the ground, Kadie crops up next to me and takes a wild swing at my head with that Bible in her hands.

  My Nana Rose always said I needed to be hit upside the head with a Bible, although I’m not sure she would approve of this scenario.

  And just like that, the room around me goes black.

  Chapter 18

  My head hurts.

  It’s about two hours after Kadie Beaumont bonked me on the head with the good word and I don’t feel a bit better or holier for that matter.

  Shep made sure I was taken to the hospital, even though I promised him I was fine. The hospital staff agreed and gave me the all-clear to come home.

  And right now I’m snuggling on my sofa with a bag of ice sitting on my head while Tilly flips out over a baking competition on TV.

  Tilly groans. “If they don’t cut that girl who put mayo in her cake, I’m going to stage a protest even if it means having to fly to England to do it.”

  “That does sound pretty gross.”

  “It should be illegal,” she muses as she shoves another taco into her mouth.

  Both Tilly and Opal stocked up on all the tacos they could lay their hands on in the name of helping out a sick friend—that sick friend being me.

  Opal comes out of the bedroom and shakes her head my way.

  “Oh, poor Bowie. I had no idea you were such a pauper. I’m devastated to see what a hovel you’re living in. Tilly, we really do need to be more mindful regarding the peasants among us.”

  Tilly blinks back. “And where exactly do you think I live?”

  A knock at the door interrupts the concerning conversation.

  The door opens a notch and Shep gives a quick wave.

  “Can I come in?” he asks with a bow of his head.

  Opal sighs. “Only if you’ve brought money.”

  “I brought another treasure.” Shep steps in with a furry pink cat in his arms.

  “Pixie!” I hold out my hands just as a tiny meow comes from around his feet and in strolls King, the spotte
d Bengal, right along with them.

  “Oh goodness.” Opal swoops over and picks King up before giving Pixie a pat on the head. “Fine. You can stay.” She kisses the tiny pink cat. “But my King needs to be home minding the manor.”

  A laugh gets caught in my throat as the room grows dim and I get the old familiar warm, fuzzy feeling.

  A vision enters my mind. It’s Shep and me outside the manor and it’s dark, save for the stars, and a full moon hangs overhead.

  “There’s something I need you to know, Bowie.” He hitches the hair behind my ear and steps in close. His serious eyes penetrate mine and the tension between us is palpable. “This is important and it concerns us.” He leans in, bringing his mouth ever so close, and I think I know what happens next. Or at least I hope I do.

  Just like that, the vision up and disappears.

  “Bowie?” Tilly gives me a shake.

  “Oh”—Tilly groans—“she’s having another one.”

  Both Tilly and Opal zoom in close.

  Shep cranes his neck over to the two of them. “Having another what? Bowie, are you all right? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

  “No!” I’m quick to protest as I give both Opal and Tilly a look that says spill the supernatural beans and risk the safety of your tacos.

  “Come, come”—Opal links arms with Tilly as she pulls her away—“let’s get back to the café. These tacos won’t sell themselves.”

  “Opal,” I say. “You can’t sell those.”

  “You’re so right.” She waves it off. “I’ll have Regina do it for me.”

  Tilly hops up before leaning in. “Have fun with Sexy Wexy. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “You would do everything,” I say.

  “That’s the point.” She winks before knocking her hip to Shep’s, and soon enough both she and Opal are out the door.

  “Thank you,” I whisper as Shep lands Pixie in my lap.

  “How are you doing?” he asks as he takes a seat next to me.

  “Better now that you’re here.” And after I saw that vision. Clearly, Sexy Wexy is about to plant a wet one on me. Well, most likely not now, but soon. “So tell me what went down after I conked out.”