Six Merry Little Murders

by Lee Strauss et al.

  “How did you determine that Marcus was the one stealing?” Officer Bouchard asked Andy.

  He stifled a yawn as if the whole thing bored him. “The security footage, obviously.”

  “But we never caught the guy on camera. In fact, it’s been busted for months, which was the whole reason why we had to install the alarm,” Shirley said, taking a step back and shaking her head in disbelief. “And, like I said, I never saw Marcus before today.”

  “But you admitted to knowing it was him,” I said to Andy. “How?”

  “I don’t have to answer your questions,” he said with a growl.

  Shirley broke into a sprint, moving faster than I’d have thought possible as she fled toward the desk in the corner of the room, turned a key in the locked drawer, and pulled out a gun.

  Rounding on us, she shouted, “No, but you have to answer mine!”

  “Whoa, ma’am. Put down the gun,” Officer Bouchard said quietly, probably to avoid alerting the thirty-ish people outside of the storage room to the new danger that had arisen.

  “Not until he tells me what happened,” she said, her unblinking eyes fixed on Andy. “My pet shop is not a killing ground.”

  “You’re crazy.” Andy laughed. Octo-Cat was right; this guy was an idiot.

  Shirley raised the gun higher. She only had eyes for Andy now. “Keep stalling, and you’ll find out just how crazy I am.”

  “He owed me money, all right? Jeez. He owed me money. I asked him to pick up this gig for me as part of that repayment. He also agreed to take the fall for stealing from your store to lessen his debt. And I already told you that I only strangled him a little. I was supposed to get the money from you, the money from him, and move on. Nobody was supposed to die.”

  “But somebody did die,” Charles said, drawing both Andy’s and Shirley’s gaze toward him. “And it sounds like there’s nobody to blame but you.”

  Officer Bouchard used the distraction to restrain Andy and finally make use of the handcuffs he’d been flashing for much of this conversation, while I approached Shirley with both of my hands out in surrender.

  “Can we put the gun away, please?” I said calmly, even though I was becoming more and more terrified by the moment. My plan had gone off without a hitch… until the gun. That had definitely not been a part of the plan.

  “You were the one stealing from me this whole time?” Shirley yelled, her voice growing hoarse. She kept the gun raised and pointed toward Andy while tears streamed down her face. “You were my friend.”

  Andy laughed bitterly. “No, I was just some guy you paid to take care of business. It was never enough, and with low-lifes like Marcus defaulting on their debts, I had to find some way to pad my pockets a little.”

  Shirley dropped the gun to the floor. “Take him away,” she seethed. “I never want to see that stupid face of his again.”

  “Yup, I knew it the whole time,” Octo-Cat said.

  Now it was my turn to let out a laugh, because of course the cat would take credit.

  The Dewdrop Springs police finally arrived fifteen minutes later. They took Andy, Shirley, Bella, and Scott with them to get their official statements down at the station.

  I knew no one would blame Bella for trying to save the already weakened victim, but I worried she’d have a hard time dealing with the guilt over being the one to actually end his life.

  Officer Bouchard stayed behind to lock up the store since both of its employees had been escorted off the premises by the other police officers. “Sorry, folks. No pictures with Santa today.”

  Nobody seemed too upset about not being able to stick around; in fact, there was a mad rush toward the door the moment it was opened.

  “Bummer,” Nan mumbled as she settled behind the wheel of her decked out sports car. “We didn’t get to take the pets' pictures with Santa, which means our advent calendar will remain incomplete.”

  I rubbed my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nan. I know you were excited about this.”

  The radio switched to Carol of the Bells, and we sat quietly listening to the lyricless tune. When the music reach a crescendo, Nan shouted, “Oh!”

  My heart sped to match pace with the bells. “Don’t do that,” I cried. “I’ve had enough shocks for one day, thank you very much.”

  “Sorry, dear, but I just had the most wonderful idea.”

  I raised both eyebrows and waited.

  “We can switch today’s calendar item with the one I had scheduled for the twenty-third. We don’t have to miss any days, after all.”

  I chuckled. “Great. What were we supposed to do on the twenty-third?”

  “Why, solve a murder mystery, of course,” she told me with a wink and then sped out of the parking lot with glee.

  Octo-Cat's Favorite Shrimp Cattail

  A recipe to share with the special cat in your life!

  Who says humans should be the only ones to enjoy special treats during your holiday celebration? The following recipe is Octo-Cat tested and approved for the feline friend in your life. Enjoy!

  Ingredients:

  4 Shrimp, cleaned, not seasoned

  ½ cup couscous

  4 oz. of meat (chicken or turkey would be best, but feel free to use beef, lamb, rabbit, or even duck)

  Instructions:

  Cook your couscous. If you are making some for kitty, it might be effective to make more than you need for this recipe as cats enjoy the grainy texture of couscous. Simply boil at a ratio of 1 : 1 ½ couscous to water.

  Drain and set aside.

  Brown your meat. It should go without saying, but make sure to cook it thoroughly as you wouldn’t want your furry friend getting sick.

  Drain and mix into couscous.

  Optional: If your kitty enjoys a bit of catnip from time to time, sprinkle a small dusting over the treat.

  Set shrimp around the bowl and enjoy the purring.

  Ensure that the shrimp you are giving your cat have been properly cleaned. Also, please note that while delicious, this recipe should serve as a supplement to, and not a substitute for, your cat’s regular diet.

  More Pet Whisperer P.I.

  Glendale is home to Blueberry Bay’s first ever talking cat detective. Along with his ragtag gang of human and animal helpers, Octo-Cat is determined to save the day… so long as it doesn’t interfere with his schedule. Start with book one, Kitty Confidential, which is now available to buy or borrow!

  If you’re ready to dive right into more Pet Whisperer P.I., then you can even order the other books right now by clicking below:

  Kitty ConfidentialTerrier Transgressions

  Hairless Harassment

  Dog-Eared Delinquent

  The Cat Caper

  Chihuahua Conspiracy

  Raccoon Racketeer

  Himalayan Hazard

  Hoppy Holiday Homicide

  Retriever Ransom

  Lawless Litter

  Legal Seagull

  Pet Whisperer P.I. Books 1-3

  More Molly Fitz

  While USA Today bestselling author Molly Fitz can't technically talk to animals, she and her doggie best friend, Sky Princess, have deep and very animated conversations as they navigate their days. Add to that, five more dogs, a snarky feline, comedian husband, and diva daughter, and you can pretty much imagine how life looks at the Casa de Fitz.

  Molly lives in a house on a high hill in the Michigan woods and occasionally ventures out for good food, great coffee, or to meet new animal friends.

  Writing her quirky, cozy animal mysteries is pretty much a dream come true, but she also goes by the name Melissa Storm (also a USA Today bestselling author, yay!) and writes a very different kind of story.

  Learn more, grab the free app, or sign up for her newsletter at www.MollyMysteries.com!

  CONNECT WITH MOLLY

  Sign up for Molly’s newsletter for book updates and cat pics: mollymysteries.com/subscribe

  Download Molly’s app for cool bonus content: mollymyste
ries.com/app

  Join Molly’s reader group on Facebook to make new friends: mollymysteries.com/group

  About this Book

  My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so I rarely see dead people. Mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety, aka dead pets, who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.

  The holidays have arrived, and the Jolly Holly Tree Lot is hosting a special event that has pets and people alike bustling to get a picture with the jolly old elf himself. My sweet cats are just as anxious as I am to get to the front of the line, but that body I stumble upon threatens to take the joy right out of the season.

  Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see dead pets—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.

  Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.

  Copyright © 2019 by Addison Moore

  Edited by Paige Maroney Smith

  Cover by Lou Harper, Cover Affairs

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2019 by Addison Moore

  1

  My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so rarely do I see dead people. Mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety, aka dead pets, who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom. But right now I’m not seeing a dead anything. In fact, the entire Jolly Holly Tree Lot is brimming with people and pets alike, anxious to get a picture with the jolly old elf himself.

  It’s just the beginning of December, and already we’ve had our fair share of snow flurries. All of Honey Hollow is covered in thick vats of downy soft powder—heck, all of Vermont is a virtual winter wonderland.

  “Lottie, let me hold one of them,” Everett, my good friend, offers as he takes one of my sweet cats from me.

  “Oh, wait. Take Waffles instead,” I say as I quickly do a switcheroo with him. “Pancake likes to cling to me a bit more whenever we leave the house.” Both Pancake and Waffles are off-white fuzzy Himalayan cats with gorgeous silver-blue eyes and rust-tipped tails—and best of all, they also happen to be brothers.

  The thick scent of familiar cologne permeates the area, and before I know it, Detective Noah Fox is standing next to me shedding that dimple-laden smile.

  “Noah!” I offer up a spontaneous hug. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Not a problem.” He pulls back and scowls over at Everett. “Judge Baxter.”

  It’s true. Everett Essex Baxter is indeed a judge down at the Ashford County Courthouse. And even though Noah and Everett are both on the right side of the law, they don’t seem to get along all that great. About a million years ago, when they were in high school, Noah’s father was married to Everett’s mother and quickly hightailed it out of town with as much of her money that he could get his paws on. But when you get down to brass tacks, that didn’t affect their friendship as much as the fact that Noah saw fit to swipe Everett’s girlfriend away from him at the time. And now, I seem to be the next girlfriend hurdle in their path. Both Everett and Noah have made their feelings clear for me. They’re both interested in me, and sadly, I’m interested in both of them. I know—I know. It sounds terribly wrong. That’s because it is. I need to pick a lane. But I don’t know which lane I prefer just yet.

  Everett offers a mock bow. “Noah, I see you’re still stalking Lemon proficiently.”

  Lemon isn’t just my surname. It’s the cute moniker Everett insists on tagging me with, and I don’t mind a bit.

  I can’t help but roll my eyes at his statement, though. “Nobody is stalking me. I invited you both out here. I thought it would be fun.” I give Everett’s shoulders a playful bump with my own. “I mean, look at the bustling crowd of people all giddy to be here, bundled in their winter coats and sipping hot cocoa. Not to mention the size of that line to sit on Santa’s lap.”

  Everett grunts, “I’ve got a red suit at home. If we hightail it off to my place, you could be on my lap before you know it.”

  I can’t help but chuckle at the bawdy proposal. However, Noah gives an audible groan at the idea.

  “Hand Waffles over.” Noah gingerly takes Waffles from him and the cute kitty nuzzles right up against Noah’s shoulder. “See there?” He sways as if he were rocking a baby. “He likes me better.”

  Everett’s lips twitch, but he’s too stubborn to give a smile. “The boys have always liked you better.”

  “All right,” I say. “Enough, you two. Let’s get in line before all of Honey Hollow shows up.” And we do just that. Although, it doesn’t feel as if we moved all that far from the parking lot—the line is just that long.

  The snow is lightly dusting the ground, and the Jolly Holly Tree Lot is nearly filled to capacity with people bundled in their winter parkas. There’s a giant red banner strewn across the opening of the circus-like tent that reads Take a picture with Santa! All pets and people welcome!

  And you can bet your bottom dollar that the fine people of Honey Hollow have taken this to heart. There are just as many tiny tots present tonight as there are fur babies. And among the animals, there seems to be an even split between cats and dogs. I’m pretty sure I even see a ferret in someone’s arms up ahead.

  I’m not entirely certain if owning a ferret is legal in Vermont, but it’s Christmastime and I don’t care about anything else but this glorious holiday season.

  You might say that things are finally going right for me. My bakery is taking off like never before with as many holiday orders that I can handle, and my love life is starting to take shape, too. I’ll admit, it’s not such a bad thing to have two handsome men warring for my affection.

  I’ve known both Noah and Everett for some time now, and I’ve grown close to both of them.

  Noah is a sweet, albeit aggressively handsome, homicide detective with dark hair that turns red in the sun and deep-welled dimples—not to mention he seems to have the ability to make me laugh whenever he’s around.

  Everett is smolderingly sexy—almost unfairly so with that jet-black hair and stunning cobalt blue eyes. In fact, he’s been dubbed Mr. Sexy by the baristas the world over. It’s sort of a play on his formal first moniker, Essex. But for whatever reason, he prefers people call him by his middle name, Everett. The only people who seem to freely call him Essex are the multitude of women that he’s done the mattress mambo with. I guess you could say they acquire his first name as sort of a door prize.

  Regardless, both men have the ability to cause any woman with a pulse to crane their necks in their direction. Suffice it to say, we’re causing quite the scene at the moment with the female population without even trying.

  “Lottie!” a female voice calls out from my left and I turn to see Tamara Gray, a petite brunette about my age, waving from the makeshift concession stand. “Your chocolate fudge is to die for!” She holds up a small bag of my delectable delights.

  The Jolly Holly Tree Lot asked my bakery, the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, to stock their concession stand and I was quick to fill th
e order.

  “Glad you like it! I added extra walnuts to this batch!” I give a friendly wave back just as she stumbles upon a group of friends.

  “Poor thing,” I whisper to Everett and Noah as we scoot up in line a smidge. “She and Scott are in the middle of a messy divorce that seems to be dragging on forever. It’s been just under a year now, and he’s already moved on. I guess it’s a good thing they never had children.”

  Everett shakes his head. “The reason the divorce is taking so long is they’re duking it out in court over their shared properties. I saw them there again just last week.”

  Noah takes a breath and Pancake gives a lazy yowl. “Don’t they own that place at the edge of town?”

  “That’s right,” I say as we scuttle up another notch. “The Grays have a booming produce farm that spans acres. It’s a popular tourist destination in the fall. Too bad their marriage wasn’t as successful as their business.”

  Noah takes a breath. “Rumor has it, Scott was cheating all along with his ranch manager, Stacy Culberson.”

  I wince as I lean in. “I know Stacy. She’s good friends with my sister, Lainey. They went to college together. And you know what? I’ve always liked Stacy. She can be a bit abrasive, but she’s the one that usually comes into the bakery to pick things up for the workers at the farm and she’s always super nice to me.”

  Everett’s chest expands. “Isn’t that her over there?”

  “Where?” I squint in the direction he pointed to and suck in a quick breath as soon as I spot the feisty redhead with her pale complexion and stunning long lashes. Stacy has always been a beauty. I’ll never understand why she felt the need to move in on someone else’s husband. She could have had anyone she wanted. “My goodness, that is her!” Just past her stands a tall, stalky gentleman with some gray around the temples and a friendly open face. “And that’s Scott checking out the flocked trees. I bet they’re here together. Poor Tamara has to see them here, shopping for Christmas trees of all things. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for her—especially this time of year.”