The Black Cat Steps on a Crack

by Kay Finch

  The Black Cat Steps on a Crack

  With construction on the town’s new library nearing completion, mystery writer Sabrina Tate is thrilled that local book lovers, and her own forthcoming novel, will soon have a fresh new home. But tensions are rising at the site as the headstrong new librarian insists on telling the construction crew how to do their jobs, bringing work to a standstill. When Sabrina’s cat unearths the dead body of the librarian not long after—and a good friend’s husband is named as the main suspect—she finds herself being pulled into a murder investigation yet again.

  While virtually all the workers at the site had a motive to commit the dark deed, Sabrina turns her attention to the victim’s background looking for clues, but hits a dead end when she can’t locate any of the woman’s family. As a string of planted evidence and a murky collection of malicious characters starts to surface, Sabrina knows she and Hitchcock will have to tread carefully, before the library killer decides to check them out for good . . .

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Black Cat Steps on a Crack

  Kay Finch

  Beyond the Page Books

  are published by

  Beyond the Page Publishing

  www.beyondthepagepub.com

  Copyright © 2019 by Kay Finch.

  Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs.

  ISBN: 978-1-950461-08-0

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Dedication

  For Alicia, our little story time leader

  Acknowledgments

  I would be lost without the many people who provided help and encouragement behind the scenes with this book. Once again, I owe special thanks to my critique partners, Laura Elvebak, Julie Herman, Kay Kendall, Bob Miller, and Amy Sharp, as well as Susie, Charlie, and their pups, whose home we invade each week. We especially appreciate Amy joining us via Facetime after she moved home to Tennessee. Her astute comments and eagle eye are invaluable.

  Thanks to my agent, Jessica Faust, for her ongoing enthusiasm for the Bad Luck Cat Mysteries, and for introducing me to editor Bill Harris at Beyond the Page. Hitchcock the cat and I are thrilled to be here, and we appreciate all of the folks behind the scenes who contributed to the publication of this book.

  Many thanks to my Cozy Mystery Share-A-Palooza pals: Ellery Adams, Victoria Abbott, Leslie Budewitz, Peg Cochran, Miranda James, Mary Kennedy, Molly MacRae, Leann Sweeney, and Heather Blake Webber. I appreciate your advice and love your passion for reading, writing, and sharing with others.

  I must thank the many appreciative readers who contacted me to ask for more Bad Luck Cat Mysteries. Your kind words have encouraged me to carry on with the escapades of Sabrina and Hitchcock. Last but not least, thanks to my family, especially the grandkids who love to ask about Grandma Kay’s “author books.”

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Recipes

  Books by Kay Finch

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  My cat’s ears pricked up when a trio of second graders entered Knead to Read for the first read-to-the-cats day. I had agreed for Hitchcock to join my friend Tyanne’s bookstore cats, Zelda and Willis, for the event with the intention that each child could focus on telling a story to a particular cat.

  “I’m not sure how long he’ll sit still,” I whispered to Ethan, Tyanne’s teenage employee. He was the one who’d suggested the idea when a teacher mentioned students who had trouble with reading and were shy about reading aloud in the classroom. Hitchcock perched on the arm of a cushioned chair beside Ethan, the cat’s gaze fixed on the front of the store.

  “Don’t worry,” the boy told me. “We’ll keep his harness on, and I have a death grip on the end of his leash.”

  I heard Tyanne address the newcomers. “You can go on back to the reading nook. Ethan and the cats are waiting for you.” She and the teacher who’d brought the children to the store exchanged a few words, then a little brunette girl came into view. I recognized her as Ella Davis, the granddaughter of my Aunt Rowe’s friend Adele.

  Ella spotted the cats and skipped toward them. She bypassed the orange- and tabby-striped cats and came straight to Hitchcock.

  “I want to read to this kitty,” she said earnestly.

  “Mrreow,” Hitchcock said.

  I grinned like a proud parent. The girl was probably attracted to the fact that my cat wasn’t inside the big wire crate with Zelda and Willis. He was more accessible for petting, and she wasted no time running her hand down his back. Hitchcock’s tail twitched. The other two children and the teacher entered the reading nook and settled into chairs.

  Ethan picked up a selection of books from a side table and gave me an I-got-this nod. I waved to him before making a beeline to the front. He knew I planned to slip out and run an errand for my Aunt Rowe while the reading was going on.

  “You leaving?” Tyanne left the sales counter and approached me. “I hoped you’d stick around and meet Jane Alcott. She said she’d pop over to see how reading to the cats works out. She may want to set up something similar at the new library.”

  “The library isn’t even finished being built,” I said. “Sounds like she’s way ahead of schedule.”

  I had heard of Jane Alcott, the librarian who moved from Emerald Springs to head the staff at Lavender’s new public library.

  “Some people like to plan in advance,” Tyanne teased. “You might want to try it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I already am. That’s why I’m running an errand while Hitchcock is busy here so we can get home quickly afterward. I plan to spend the rest of the day writing.”

  “Atta girl,” she said. “But let’s get back to the library
for a sec. Have you heard the gossip about the anonymous donor who made a six-figure donation for new book acquisitions?”

  “That’s wonderful. I heard there was a donation, but none of the details.”

  Tyanne’s eyes widened. “Some say it was your Aunt Rowe.”

  I raised my brows. “Really? I can’t see my aunt choosing to remain anonymous—ever.”

  We both laughed at that. Aunt Rowe did some outrageous things, and she never seemed to mind who knew about them.

  “She’s not a book person like we are,” I said, “so I’d be surprised if she’s the mystery donor. I’m just glad she seems to finally be settling down to some hobbies more suitable for a woman her age.”

  “Hobbies like what?” Ty said.

  “Some scrapbooking fanatics checked in at the cottages, and Aunt Rowe wants to work on a project with them. She gave me a list of things to pick up for her at Get Crafty.”

  “I’ll bet there’s more to that story,” Ty said.

  “I hope not.” I reached for the doorknob.

  “Sure you can’t wait for Jane? She should be here any second, and she really wanted to meet you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Duh,” Ty said. “She’s a book lover, and you’re an author. To a librarian, an author is kind of like royalty.”

  I looked down at my non-royal attire. My jeans and tennies had seen better days. “I’m not exactly dressed to impress.”

  Tyanne waved a hand. “Not to worry. Jane is one of the most down-to-earth people I’ve ever met.”

  I went to the window and looked out to see if there were any down-to-earth sorts in sight. Only the man sitting in a black sedan parked right out front that I’d noticed when Hitchcock and I arrived.

  “Who’s the guy?” I looked at Ty, then back out the window. The man had dark hair and a close-cut beard, and his gaze was fixed on the sidewalk to his left.

  “What guy?” She came over to check. “Don’t know him. Maybe he’s with the school group.”

  I shook my head. “He was here when I came in. Unless the school sent him ahead to check out the premises. He kind of has the look of a big, burly bodyguard, don’t you think?”

  She laughed. “You and that writer imagination.”

  “He caught my attention ’cause he’s sitting there, dressed for business, but not looking at his phone, or reading a book, or anything. I don’t think he’s moved a muscle, and he’s not a typical Texas Hill Country tourist.”

  “You’re observant,” Ty said. “I’ll give you that, but there’s no law against sitting in a parked car. He could be waiting for his wife to do some shopping.”

  “Probably so.”

  She glanced out the window again. “And here comes Jane.”

  I followed her gaze and saw a woman dressed in a drab black dress crossing the street. Her chin-length brown hair blew around her head in the gusty March wind. When she entered the store, I decided that her pretty smile made up for the lack of jewelry or makeup.

  Ty made the introductions. Jane pushed her dark-framed glasses up on her nose and shook my hand enthusiastically. “I’m so stoked about meeting you,” she said. “I already pre-ordered your book, and I’d love to set you up to speak at the library. Maybe during opening week.”

  “Um, when is the library opening?” I probably had some time to get used to the idea of speaking, given that the new building still had piles of dirt around it and no landscaping or sidewalks. Not to mention the release date for my book—Scarlet’s Run—was five months away.

  “Not soon enough to suit me.” Jane adjusted her glasses again. “Target is the end of April.”

  “That will be here before you know it,” Ty said, then excused herself to greet a woman entering the store.

  Jane and I moved away from the sales counter so the customer could browse the New Releases section.

  “This job is going to be a dream come true,” Jane said. “Everything’s ready that could possibly be done before those darned contractors let us inside. I’m dying to line the shelves with books. Aren’t you excited about seeing your book on a library shelf?”

  “Sure I am.” The thought stirred butterflies in my stomach.

  “You have your news releases ready to go?”

  I pursed my lips. “No. I’m kind of busy writing the next book.”

  “I could help you with marketing,” Jane said.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. Tyanne, across the store, must have heard Jane’s comment. She nodded as if she thought that was a grand idea.

  “We can find a ton of tips online,” Jane said.

  What did she mean, we?

  “Blog tours are great,” she added.

  I forced a smile. “Right.”

  “Is your website almost ready?”

  I wet my lips. Tyanne had brought up a website no less than a dozen times. “Not yet.”

  “That’s okay,” Jane said. “It’s ‘coming soon,’ like your book. You should get it up and running soon, though. Include blurbs from other authors. Add pre-order links. Oh, and link to your social media accounts, too.” She must have caught my grimace. “You are on social media, right?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Girl, you know this stuff’s important for a new author, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “It’s vital,” she said. “Mark my words.”

  “You have me feeling a little overwhelmed,” I admitted.

  “Don’t be,” Jane said. “There’s nothing to worry about. Do you have your head shot?”

  The tone of a child’s voice drifted to us from the reading nook. I glanced that way. “Jane, didn’t you want to catch the kids reading to the cats?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She looked toward the kids, then turned to me. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in a jiffy, and we can set up your countdown to publication timeline.”

  She walked toward the reading nook, and I went over to Tyanne. “Did you set me up?”

  She tried to keep a straight face. “No, I swear. She was only coming to see the kids and cats.”

  I lowered my voice. “She’s a little over-the-top, isn’t she?”

  Ty had the grace to nod. “She’s really likeable, though, and I think she’s right on the money about the things you should be doing.”

  “I guess so, but good grief, now I’m supposed to worry about the news release, speechmaking, website planning, social media, and having my picture taken and, oh yeah, finish writing that next book.”

  Tyanne shrugged. “Easy peasy.”

  “Easy peasy for you to say.”

  “Maybe you should accept her help,” Ty said. “Jane has energy to spare.”

  “I don’t know, Ty. We writers are loner types.”

  “Which is why you could use someone with a more outgoing personality to chime in on the marketing part of the job.”

  She had a point.

  Jane returned to us within minutes.

  “How’s the reading going?” Ty said.

  Jane grinned. “The cats are dozing, the kids are reading their little hearts out. I love it.” She looked at me. “Is the black cat yours?”

  “Yes, that’s Hitchcock.”

  “I heard an insane rumor that people think he’s some kind of legendary bad luck cat.”

  “Unfortunately, some people believe that baloney.”

  “There must be a way to turn around the rumor. Start a new legend. Maybe we can build it into your social media platform.”

  I liked the sound of that. “How would we go about doing such a thing?”

  Jane pinched her chin with a thumb and forefinger. “I need to give that some thought. We could start with some interesting pictures.”

  “Interesting how?”

  She gazed at the ceiling for a few seconds. “I know. Can you meet me outside the library tonight? Say eight o’clock?”

  “For what?”

  “We can take some really cool pictures out there. There’s a f
ull moon. It’ll be perfect.”

  Tyanne caught my eye and nodded encouragement.

  “Why not?” I said, and Jane and I exchanged cell numbers.

  “Bring the cat,” Jane said. “Have to run. See you later.”

  She hurried out the door, leaving Tyanne and me looking at each other.

  “What just happened?” I said.

  “Someone with a bigger imagination than we have when it comes to marketing came up with a brainstorm,” she said.

  “But we don’t know what that means.”

  “Nope,” she said.

  We still had the dazed and confused glaze in our expressions when Ty’s husband, Bryan, slipped in the front door with an anxious glance to the street behind him. He ran a hand through his wind-blown hair. “Was that Jane Alcott I saw leaving here?”

  “Sure was,” Ty said.

  “What’s the problem?” I said.

  “Nothin’,” he said, “but I need to run into her like I need a case of diphtheria. She latches on to a person and won’t let go.”

  Was that what had just happened to me? Bryan was an electrician, and I knew he’d been doing wiring at the construction site. I assumed that’s how he knew Jane.

  “I just met her for the first time,” I said, “and she seems like a really nice person.”

  “Yeah, she does at first,” he said. “But you can ask any of the contractors working out at the new library. We all agree. She’s a boatload of trouble.”

  “Oh.” My stomach sank down to my shoes.

  “You’re being too harsh, Bry,” Tyanne said. “That’s not fair.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Maybe she’s lonely and that’s why she goes on and on and won’t let go until everything is perfect, but she drives the crew batty and slows us down. Like it’s her money and her schedule we have to meet. I, for one, want nothing to do with the woman.”

  Chapter 2

  The time I spent talking with Jane Alcott and Tyanne’s husband nixed my plan to run an errand while Hitchcock was occupied with the kids. Instead, I stayed and listened to the last few minutes of the children reading to the cats, all the while aware of strident tones coming from Ty’s office. I couldn’t hear what she and Bryan were discussing, but this was not a “how sweet of you to stop by” conversation. In all the years I’d known them, I’d never known the couple to fight. Then again, no marriage is without disagreements, and Bryan did seem overly stressed.