A Claw-some Affair (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 3)

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A Claw-some Affair (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 3) Page 11

by Addison Moore


  We order our apples, dripping with caramel and rolled in mini chocolate chips for me, rolled in sesame seeds for Sophia—to each his own, and we say a quick goodnight before she takes off into the crowd.

  Without my permission, my feet land me back under that tent which houses more local authors than you can shake a caramel apple at.

  At the moment it’s devoid of stampeding women, and just about every author here has packed up their belongings for the night. It looks as if the literary show is over.

  I head toward Shep’s table and find Regina sitting dazed with her hair mussed. Shep’s tie is askew and he looks as if he’s had a hard night out in Scooter Springs while visiting every single bar.

  “Ha!” I squawk. “My vis—” I stop short of saying the V word. “My word.” I can’t help but bounce on my heels with glee. I guess I won’t be finding Regina and Shep in a compromising position like I thought I would. I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong. “So how’d the signing go? Did you sell out?”

  Regina grunts. “There was a fistfight, a mugging, and some salty name calling.”

  Shep looks her way. “And that was just you.”

  A laugh bubbles from me. “Don’t make me sorry I missed it.” I hold out my apple for them to admire. “There are some good eats out there. It’s a real culinary feast. You should hit the booths before it’s all gone.”

  “Count me out.” Regina rises from her seat, inadvertently knocking her chair backwards as she staggers away. “I’ll be coming in late tomorrow,” she says. “I’ve got a thumper of a headache.”

  I look over at Shep. “Ten bucks says someone thumped a book over her head.”

  “If I were in that bet, you’d be ten bucks richer.” He heads over and eyes my apple. “You can count me in on that culinary feast.” He steps in close, and I take in that familiar woodsy cologne of his as he sharpens his eyes over mine. “Are you up for grazing with me?”

  “Only if you’re buying, Detective.”

  His lips twitch with the hint of a smile as we make our way up and down the midway of culinary delights. I tell Shep all about my encounter with Sophia and that shady half a million dollars that made its way to Kiera’s business.

  We indulge in some hot apple cider, hit the hayride, and walk through piles of fall leaves that rim the periphery of the grounds.

  Shep and I pause in front of an enormous maple tree, red with rage, because the couple huddled beneath its branches seems to be averse to pressing their lips together.

  The waterfalls in the background glow a pale shade of blue under the duress of moonlight, and it paints a tragically romantic scene. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive Mother Nature for creating such beauty on a night when Shep is too stubborn to land his pucker over mine.

  “Bowie,” he whispers my name like a secret and my head inches toward his as if it were a bona fide invitation.

  “Shep,” I whisper back with a hint of a nod in the event he was waiting for a green light.

  A smug smile inches up the left side of his cheek.

  “Do you know what we have to do next?” The words slip from him, dark and commanding.

  “What’s that?” My mouth falls open at the prospect of what it might be.

  “I think it’s time we pay my sister a visit over at Financial Premier.”

  Of all the things I could have guessed, visiting his sister wouldn’t have made the short or long list. But then I remember she works at the financial firm that handles Wallace Hathaway’s billions.

  Shep offers me a ride home, and I accept. He walks me to the door and offers a peaceable nod goodnight.

  It’s not the romantic ending to a beautiful evening that it could have been, but on the bright side, he did say we should pay his sister a visit.

  I curl up in bed with Pixie and purr just as loud as she does at the thought of Shep and me making up that royal we.

  Now there’s something I can get behind.

  And it looks as if I have a half a million dollar mystery donation to thank for it.

  Chapter 13

  Financial Premier looks remarkably similar to the library at the manor. But without the cats to offer that homey appeal, it just looks plain stuffy.

  Kelly Wexler sits back in her enormous leather chair with that cat who ate the canary grin on her face as she takes the two of us in.

  Her hair is blonde and brassy with her two-inch roots showing a mixture of brown and gray. She’s got the same baby blues as her brother, but that’s where the resemblance ends. She’s a couple of years younger than him, of a stockier build, and a touch shorter, and judging by that budding grin, my guess is she’s a fun one.

  “So this is a thing, huh?” She points a red glossy fingernail between the two of us. “You go with the one who tied me up and almost shanked me?” she muses his way.

  “I didn’t almost shank you,” I’m quick to correct her. Apparently, she likes to exaggerate, too. “I thought you were attacking him. He does have his fair share of crazed fans.” Geez. Hogtie someone once, and you never live it down.

  She shrugs my way. “I’m not surprised. Shep always did like them spicy.” She shoots a look to her big bro. “Word to the wise, I’d have something to cut yourself loose with if you’re going to keep company with this one. Now what brings the two of you out my way?”

  “We’re not dating,” I clarify. “Shep is just my landlord, and we share a cat.”

  “You share a cat?” She nods his way as that expression on her face lets us know she’s thoroughly amused. “I thought the cabin in the back was your office?”

  My mouth falls open as I look to him. “Is that where the magic happened?”

  Kelly gives a guttural laugh. “Office was code for skank tank. Shep didn’t like the hordes of women he was hauling in night after night to wrinkle his sheets.”

  “Eww.” I swat him on the arm. “And you let me sleep there? I’m going to bleach the place from top to bottom when I get back.”

  Kelly leans my way. “Never do something for a man that he should be doing for himself. It’s his place, after all.”

  I’m liking Kelly more by the moment.

  “Wallace Hathaway.” Shep clears his throat. Judging by the way his brows have formed a hard line over his daring blue eyes, I’m guessing he’s not all that amused with his spicy little sister. “What’s going on with his money?”

  “It’s safe and sound right here in my proverbial arms.” She taps her keyboard with a pen. “Just the way it should be.”

  “Kelly.” I scoot in a notch. “One of the suspects in Madeline Swanson’s murder investigation, Sophia Hathaway, Wallace’s daughter—she let me know that a half a million dollars was gifted to Goober, Inc. She said she asked her father and he didn’t know anything about it. She also mentioned he didn’t seem too concerned either.”

  She lifts a hand. “That’s neither here nor there. He doesn’t have to tell his daughter anything about his financial transactions. Whether or not he knew about the donation is something we may never know.” She narrows her eyes on her brother while pointing my way. “I thought you said she was a waitress?”

  “She is.” Shep gives a long blink. “And she’s also a little too curious for her own good.”

  “Wait a minute.” Kelly squints over at him. “You’re into her, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Shep’s eyes round out for a moment before glaring at his sister for even suggesting something that I wish would happen. “Bowie and I are”—he pauses to glance my way—“just friends. She has an interest in the case and she came to me with the information she just shared. Look, I know you can’t tell us any private information regarding your clients, and I would never ask you to do that.”

  I would ask my siblings in a heartbeat. And if they didn’t give it to me, I’d probably slam their heads against the wall a couple of times.

  Kelly nods my way. “So she’s going to do the dirty work?”

  “You bet that bottom dollar you
were about to invest.” I strum my candy pink fingernails against her desk. “All we want to know is the date of the transaction and who authorized it. And”—I wince—“if there are any other dicey financial moves we should be apprised of.”

  She blinks over at Shep. “You know I can’t put my license on the line like that. If the sheriff’s department needs this information, then they’ll have to get a court order to obtain it. Or better yet, ask Wallace to hand it over. If there’s nothing shady going on, I don’t see why he’d have a problem with that.”

  Shep shakes his head. “That’s not happening any time soon. And there’s no way I’m willing to risk your license. But if you happened to look at his file, and you happened to note that a sizable donation to a certain social media mogul’s account within the last few weeks, maybe you could—”

  “Blink twice.” I shrug as I say it and Kelly takes a moment to scowl my way.

  She fiddles with her keyboard while twisting her lips at the enormous screen before her in the exact manner Shep is prone to do when he’s deep in thought.

  “All right.” She looks right at her brother and gives two slow blinks. “Now get out of here and tie one another up or whatever it is you do for fun. I’ve got some money to make.”

  Shep and I hightail it right out into the cool fall air.

  “What do you think?” I ask, pulling him close, and he glances down at the proximity of his chest to mine before shedding the hint of a devilish grin.

  “I think it’s a dead end. I can’t just ask Wallace Hathaway to see if he’s willing to divulge any philanthropic donations his foundation might have made in the last year or so because I have a hunch. Sophia didn’t divulge any of that to me. She divulged it to you. I’ll have to start with her. And if she shares that information with me, I’ll ask Wallace to see his financial records. It’s not the quickest way to get the answers, but it’s the legal way.”

  “And by that time, the killer could be long gone. I don’t like the legal way.”

  “Because it’s in your blood,” he teases.

  “Is that a dig at my heritage?”

  “It’s a dig at what brought you to Starry Falls to begin with. You can’t make your own rules, Bowie. If anyone has learned that the hard way, it’s you. Leave Madeline Swanson’s murder investigation in my hands. You’ve done enough to help.” His eyes seem to be pleading with me. “There’s a killer out there, Bowie. And they’ve already taken one life. If they find out you’re digging around, you might find yourself next on their list. I don’t want that and neither do you.”

  A smile curls on my lips. “Are you saying you care about what happens to me?”

  Shep sighs at the thought. His eyes steady over mine for a good long while.

  “I’m a member of the force. It’s my job to care about you.”

  “I’m a member of the public. It’s my job to care about those who drop dead at my feet.”

  A heavy sigh expels from him. “You’re not going to stop your investigation, are you? Don’t answer that. If you keep interfering, I’ll have to cuff you.”

  A dark laugh brews in my chest. “I’m the one that does the tying up in this relationship and don’t you forget it.”

  Any trace of a smile fades from his lips as his eyes dance around my features.

  “Bowie.” He leans in a notch and his lips come dangerously close to mine. “Don’t put yourself in any additional danger. It’s not necessary.”

  My shoulders sag at the thought.

  “You’re right,” I whisper as I glance down at that tennis bracelet glittering in the light. “I’m in enough of that to begin with.”

  Shep drives us back to Starry Falls, and all the way there I think about the fact somebody out there knows who I am, where I am, and what I’ve done—and it rattles me to my core.

  A part of me wonders if Madeline Swanson’s killer feels just as rattled.

  And if they don’t, they should.

  Chapter 14

  The next day, the café is bustling once again. It’s a little after four in the afternoon and the dinner rush is in full swing.

  Shep heads up to the counter where Tilly and I are busy making a few fresh pots of coffee. It’s the one product that sells just as good in the morning as it does in the evening—even the leaded variety.

  Shep nods to the two of us. “I’m heading out, ladies.” He sets his briefcase down on the counter as he digs into his pockets for his keys.

  Tilly hops in his direction. “The way you were pounding on that keyboard all day, I bet you finished your book.”

  “I’m close. But I did get a couple of chapters in.” His cheeks flicker as he looks my way. “Goodnight, ladies. Stay out of trouble.”

  “Staying out of trouble is my middle name,” I’m quick to fire back. “I’ll be off in an hour.” My stomach does a few flips at the prospect of what I’m about to say next. “I can go over one of your books if you like. You know, I can head to your place—or you can come to mine. Pixie would love it.”

  Regina comes sniffing around with her hair in a heap on top of her head like a messy brown mop. And darn it, if it doesn’t up her cute factor.

  “What are you doing with his books?” She looks between the two of us, rife with suspicion.

  “Proofreading,” I say it a little too fast as I try to mask the real reason I was offering to look over his work.

  I just so happen to be Shep’s voluntary mob consultant. But in truth, I was hitting him up for some alone time to see if we can move our relationship to a whole new level—the level where the lips meet and the hands go wild.

  It’s not my usual MO. I’m all about being chased by men—the feds and mobs withstanding. But it’s Friday night. And I haven’t had a date in months. Here’s hoping he takes the hint and accepts my deliciously salacious offer.

  Shep nods. “Bowie has a unique talent when it comes to filling in the blanks.” He frowns my way. “Missing words, things like that.” A sorrowful look crosses his face. “I’m sorry, Bowie. It’s my mother’s birthday. My siblings and I are headed to dinner out in Sterling Lake.”

  A snickering laugh escapes Regina as she pretends to sort the menus.

  Shep’s lips twitch in my direction, and those piercing blue eyes cut right through me.

  “How about tomorrow night? My place,” he says it low and seductive, and all sorts of inappropriate things are going on in my body because of it.

  “I’ll bring the lasagna.”

  “Sounds good.” He nods to the three of us before taking off.

  Tilly squeals so loud in my ear it sponsors double vision for a moment.

  “It’s a date!” she screams.

  “It’s a date,” I scream right back.

  Regina clears her throat and we look over to see Shep standing there with an amused look on his face.

  “Forgot my briefcase.” He scoops it up as a wicked smile tugs at his lips. “Goodnight, ladies. And remember to stay out of trouble.”

  “Stay out of trouble.” I grunt as soon as he clears the exit. “It’s as if he thinks it bears repeating.”

  Regina steps over. “Knowing you, it probably does. So where are the two of you off to tonight?”

  Tilly butts her shoulder to mine. “Well? Are we off to investigate or not?”

  A thought comes to me.

  “Wait a minute.” I crane my neck and catch a glimpse of Shep driving off down Main Street. “If Shep and his siblings are out for dinner, this might be the perfect time to head back to his sister’s office. If I can just get a quick glimpse of Wallace Hathaway’s account, it might paint a clearer picture of things. Like, maybe Madeline was moving funds to some of her other friends’ accounts? Or maybe she was siphoning additional large sums to Kiera?”

  Regina shakes her head. “I don’t know who the heck those people are, but count me in.”

  Tilly and Regina whip off their aprons, and in less than ten minutes the Mortimer Café is down three waitresses.

&nb
sp; I’m about to peel back the curtain and see what information is hiding in Wallace Hathaway’s financial report.

  Let’s hope it was worth the trip.

  By the time Regina, Tilly, and I drive out to Sterling Lake—after an impromptu wardrobe change—Tilly insisted we show up clad in black, and after a jaunt through Pickin’ Lickin’ Chicken—Regina’s request because she was hungry enough to kill, and seeing that the only two potential homicide victims were Tilly and me, I happily acquiesced—Financial Premier is officially closed for the day. The parking lot is empty, save for a small pink car that touts the words Magnificent Maids on the side.

  Premier Financial locked up over an hour ago, and there’s not an employee or customer in sight.

  “What’s the plan?” Tilly whispers.

  Regina rolls her eyes while cradling that bucket of chicken in her lap.

  “You don’t need to whisper, Tilly,” she snips. “We’re still in the car.”

  I make a face. “Just follow me and be very quiet. It looks as if the back door is being propped open by a mop. We’ll head in through there. Kelly’s office is to the left. I’ll need the two of you to keep an ear out and warn me if anyone is coming. There might be a straggler in there who has nothing better to do on a Friday night but sit in that industrial-sized box.”

  Regina huffs while waving a chicken leg in her hand. “Why do I feel exposed?”

  Tilly snaps off her seatbelt. “Oh come on, Regina. Once we finish up the jewel heist, we’ll hit Scooter Springs and I’ll buy you both a drink.”

  The three of us head in and narrowly miss the cleaning lady who’s currently roaring up a storm with the vacuum and a set of headphones on.

  We land in Kelly Wexler’s office and I shut the door behind us, closing my eyes a moment in hopes my heart will stop racing. But no such luck. In fact, when I open them back up and spot both Tilly and Regina sitting on the small sofa in the corner pilfering through that bucket of chicken, I nearly launch my heart out of my chest.

 

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