Claws of Action

by Linda Reilly

  Lara laughed. “No tardy check marks for you, Aunt Fran. You’re entitled to a little extra time to gussy up. You look beautiful.”

  As if the timing had been planned, Chief Whitley poked his head into the kitchen. “Am I too early?”

  “Just on time,” Aunt Fran trilled with a slight flutter of her hand.

  Resisting an eye roll, Lara said, “Come on in, Chief. Whatcha got there?”

  He came into the kitchen holding a gift bag the size of a small car. He held it up and looked at Aunt Fran. “If I may…” he asked hesitantly.

  Her aunt nodded, and the chief reached into the bag. He extracted several smaller, bright-colored gift bags, tissue poking out of each one. One by one, he set them on the kitchen table. Each one was different, and each had a tag.

  Lara read the tags. “Munster, Twinkles, Orca, Pearl…” she said, and looked at him. “There’s one for every cat in the house!”

  Aunt Fran’s green eyes misted. “Oh…” she said and swallowed.

  “And one for each of the kittens,” Lara added, choked up now herself. She peeked into one of the bags. Each one was stuffed with feline toys and treats.

  He shrugged and gave Aunt Fran a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, Fran. I knew you had new kittens, but I didn’t know their names.”

  Aunt Fran laughed and hugged him, and Lara scooted from the room. No way she wanted to intrude on that.

  She headed for the reading room, where the noise was amping up. They’d left the connecting door open to the meet-and-greet room to make extra space, but the cats had been banished to the house for the celebration. It wouldn’t do to have inquisitive feline noses and paws checking out the food trays and sampling the hors d’oeuvres.

  Where was Gideon? He still hadn’t arrived. A combination of worry and ire shot through her.

  Mary and Chris Newman were there, chatting with Brooke. They’d just returned from vacation and had missed all the craziness with the murder. Mary was grateful, but Chris was disappointed. As a reporter for the local paper, he was sorry he’d missed out on the story of the week. Lara greeted them warmly, and they handed her a gift. At this rate, the shelter would have enough books to fill the Boston Public Library.

  Sherry, David, and Daisy arrived holding a gift bag. Inwardly, Lara groaned. Where would they put all the books? After a round of hugs, Lara peeked inside the bag. An antique print of a little girl reading to a black-and-white cat was tucked inside. “Oh, I love it,” Lara said. She squeezed her friend hard.

  “I can only stay a few minutes,” Daisy said, hugging Lara. “Duty calls. The masses must be fed.”

  “I know how it is,” Lara said. “But I’m so glad you made it.”

  “Lots to tell you,” Sherry said, her face bright with joy. “In a little while, okay?”

  Lara nodded.

  Aunt Fran came in with the chief, and everyone began mingling.

  At last, a familiar face came in by way of the meet-and-greet room. Gideon smiled and wrapped Lara in a hug. “Hi, honey. Sorry to be so late. Stuff…happened. Plus, I had to park down the street. It’s getting busy here!”

  Lara’s stomach dropped. “What stuff? Bad stuff?”

  “Heck no. It’s all good. I’ll tell you about it later. But speaking of good—you look fantastic!”

  “Well, thank you, kind sir. And for that I’ll fetch you a glass of champagne punch.”

  Secretly, Lara was more than thrilled at the compliment. She’d abandoned her usual casual attire for the sea-blue, jersey knit dress she’d splurged on. A wispy chiffon overlay with a tulip-style hem gave it a touch of elegance, as did her matching tassel earrings. A cat-shaped pendant made from tiny sapphires hung from her neck on a white-gold chain. Gideon had given it to Lara last Christmas, and she treasured it.

  Now, of course, she was itching to hear Gideon’s news. She knew she’d have to wait till they were alone, but the suspense was killing her.

  Munching on a cookie, Lara peeked through the screen door just as another familiar face came up the walkway. Her heart dropped.

  Tim Fray.

  He stood on the path and glanced around the yard, as if he was debating whether or not to come in. Lara excused herself and went outside.

  “Hi, Tim,” she said quietly.

  “Hey, Lara.” He started to take her hand, but then changed his mind and gave her a light hug. “I didn’t mean to crash your party, but I just wanted to thank you. For everything.” He blinked behind his dark-framed glasses.

  “I’m not sure I helped, but I’m glad to see you. How are things going?”

  He shrugged. “Okay. I’m wrapping up Mom’s affairs. There’s a lot more to it than I thought.” He gave her a sad smile. “What you really want to know is how things are with Jenny, right?”

  Lara felt a guilty flush creep up her neck. “I guess that’s part of it.”

  “I’m sorry to say, we’re splitting up. Our marriage is too broken to be repaired.”

  “I wish none of it had to happen, Tim.”

  Tim took in a long breath. “Jenny never got over her schoolgirl crush on Backstrom. I guess when she saw him that night at the tavern, it all came rushing back.”

  And Charlie, whose own marriage was stumbling, gave in to temptation.

  “I keep thinking about those photos,” Tim said. “I keep asking myself why my mom hid them behind that print. All I can think of is that she must’ve been saving them for her ace in the hole.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” Lara said.

  “She’d been trying to talk me into leaving Jenny. Kept saying she was all wrong for me. Mom was biased from the beginning, but at some point, she apparently started following her. Got herself an eyeful when she caught Jenny meeting Backstrom behind that tavern,” he added grimly.

  “So she took pictures of them and developed them,” Lara said, “hoping she’d never have to show them to you. If she could persuade you to divorce Jenny, she could keep them from you forever.”

  “It sounds crazy, I know,” Tim said. “But in a way, it was quintessential Mom, especially the way she hid those pics behind her favorite wall hanging.” He shook his head. “Funny thing is, I’d never have remembered the name of that print. You’re the one who figured out what K-R-A meant.”

  And sometimes I wish I hadn’t, Lara thought glumly.

  But if she hadn’t, Charlie might have gotten away with murder.

  “Backstrom destroyed most of Mom’s treasured figurines,” Tim said bitterly. “He must have done it after you ran outside for help. Jenny claims she doesn’t remember.”

  Lara felt her cheeks turning berry red. “Everything happened so fast, Tim—”

  “I know. Don’t give it another thought.” He reached out and touched her arm, then looked toward the house. The celebration was in full swing. “Hey, look, I’ve intruded long enough. Go back to your party. I just want to say: You’re an amazing woman.”

  “Lara?” Kayla stepped outside and came over to Lara. She handed her a full glass of champagne punch. “I wondered where you’d gone off to. You left yours on the table, so I got you a fresh one.”

  “Thanks, Kayla.” Lara took a sip. “Tim, this is my good friend and our extraordinary shelter assistant, Kayla. Kayla, this is Tim.”

  Tim stared at her, and Kayla pushed up her glasses. “Very pleased to meet you,” he said.

  “I…uh…I’m pleased to meet you, too.”

  Lara quickly intervened. “Unless you’re in a hurry, Tim, we’d love it if you joined us. There’s plenty of food. Right now, I need to find Gideon, who seems to have vanished. Kayla, would you mind showing Tim around?”

  Kayla swallowed. “Oh…gosh, yes. I mean, no, I wouldn’t mind.” A smile crept across her face.

  Lara left the two strolling into the reading room together and went around the house to the kitch
en entrance. She tiptoed quietly into the large parlor. Gideon was standing in front of the carpeted cat tree, murmuring in a singsong tone to Orca.

  “You’re being very mysterious today,” she said, coming up behind him. “First you disappear, and now I catch you sneaking in here to play with cats.”

  Gideon laughed. “Sorry. I’m being rude to your guests, aren’t it? I took a fast break and then I noticed Orca staring at me from his perch. I couldn’t resist coming in here and playing with him. Remember I told you he can high five? Okay, watch this. Orca,” he said, holding up his palm. “High five.”

  After a few seconds, Orca held up one massive paw. Gideon touched it and said, “High five!”

  Lara rolled her eyes and giggled. “Very impressive, but you do realize Orca has six toes?”

  “Even better!” Gideon laughed and grabbed her hand. “Come over here,” he said, leading her over to the sofa. “I know I’ve been a bit secretive lately, but I’m ready to tell you my news. Does the name Marvin Dobson sound familiar?”

  “Uh, no. Not really,” Lara said. “Is he your news?”

  “In a way,” Gideon teased. “Okay, I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Marvin’s been the town’s attorney for the past…oh, four or five hundred years, I’d say. Great guy, but way past retirement age. He’s finally giving it up and moving to Florida. So…the town needed a new attorney, and they’ve asked me if I’d accept the job.”

  “Gideon!” Lara threw her arms around him. “That’s great. Such an honor!”

  “In this little town, it’s only a part-time position,” he cautioned, “and my regular workload won’t go away. I’m thinking of taking on an assistant, but that remains to be seen.” He looked over at the cat tree. “Not to change the subject, but…do you think Orca would be happy living with me?”

  “What?” Lara gaped at him. “You want to adopt him?”

  “Yeah, I do. Him and Pearl both. They’re a package deal, right?”

  At that moment, Lara’s heart melted. “Gideon Halley, you never stop surprising me.” She kissed him soundly.

  “Speaking of surprises,” he said, “I have more news. This time it’s about Trevor Johnson. The town manager reweighed the facts, and he also met with Daisy. He concluded that Johnson hadn’t violated any regulations. If the select board concurs, Johnson will be getting his job back.”

  Lara was stunned. “That’s good news, I guess. It’ll make his mom happy anyway.”

  The front door flew open, and Sherry stormed in like a gust of wind, tugging David behind her. “There you two are! I wondered where you disappeared to. We have news to share, and we’re not going to wait a minute longer.” She looked at David and smiled. “Go ahead, sweetie.”

  Lara’s pulse raced. This is it.

  David cleared his throat. “Okay, here goes. I have asked Sherry if she would do me the honor of becoming my wife, and she—”

  “Accepted!” Sherry thrust out her left hand and squealed.

  Lara gasped. A gorgeous oval diamond glittered from Sherry’s ring finger. Lara grabbed her friend and hugged her, then did the same with David.

  “Wow. Fantastic news,” Gideon said, embracing them both. “Congrats to both of you.”

  “Guys, can I chat with Sherry privately?” Lara said. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  The men nodded, and Lara dragged Sherry into her studio.

  “Did this happen last week in Boston?” Lara asked her.

  “Yes, but with everything else that was going on, we wanted to wait for the right time to tell you.”

  Lara pulled out the sketches she’d completed. “In anticipation of this announcement,” she said slyly, “I took the liberty of creating four different designs for your wedding invitations. These are pencil sketches, but the real ones will be hand-painted, in watercolor, by yours truly.”

  Sherry stared at them, covered her mouth, and burst into tears.

  “It’s okay!” Lara said, “I can change them. We don’t have to—”

  Sherry threw her arms around Lara, almost knocking her over. “You’re the best friend in the whole world, do you know that?”

  Lara laughed and cried, and they all went back to the reading room to join the other guests.

  It was nearly five when the last guest trickled out. Tomorrow would be the first “read to a cat” day in the new addition. Seven children had already reserved times throughout the afternoon.

  To Lara’s surprise, Tim Fray was still there. He’d been chatting almost nonstop with Kayla and was apparently in no hurry to leave.

  Kayla came over to Lara. “Lara, do you think it would be okay if we brought the kittens in here? Just for a few minutes?”

  Grinning, Lara excused herself, and they both dashed upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a large box. Four adorable, furry faces poked their noses in the air.

  Everyone gushed over the kittens, and Tim asked if he could hold one.

  “This one’s Aden,” Kayla said, lifting the one kitten she’d named. “After my grandfather.”

  Tim cupped Aden to his chest. “Gosh, he’s a sweetheart. That’s a great name, too—very distinguished. It suits him.” He looked around bashfully at everyone, then returned the kitten to Kayla. “I have a feeling I’ll be coming back here, very soon.”

  Gideon squeezed Lara’s hand.

  “Hey, is that what I think it is?” Tim reached up to one of the bookshelves and pulled out a volume. “Yes! This is Cary the Crow and the Hidden Spoon. This is a classic. When I was a little kid, Mom read this to me all the time.”

  Why am I not surprised? Lara thought.

  Her gaze traveled over the room. The kittens were nestled in their box. The people she cherished most in the world were all here.

  “Okay, find a seat everyone,” she said, taking the book from Tim.

  Sherry glanced around. “Uh, Lara, these seats are all for kids.”

  “That’s okay. Try to squeeze into them. Either that or stand.”

  Gideon and the chief opted to stand, while the women dropped onto low chairs. Hands in his pockets, Tim stood beside Lara, his expression soft with remembrance.

  Lara opened to the first page. “ʻCary the crow,’” she began, “ʻlived in a giant oak, high above the stone cottage where his favorite humans lived…’”

  Acknowledgments

  To my editor, Martin Biro, and my agent, Jessica Faust, all I can say is…you both rock! Without you, the Cat Lady Mysteries would have remained a distant dream.

  I’m grateful for the entire team at Kensington for their hard work in making the series sparkle in the eyes of readers. From the artwork, to the genius marketing, to the help with social media, thank you all a million times over.

  A huge “thank you” to Elizabeth Butcher for naming the golden kitten “Fritter,” and a big shout-out to Elise Barrette for contributing the name of her cat, “Aden,” to one of the black-and-white kittens.

  To my husband, my family, and my wonderful friends, I couldn’t have done any of this without you.

  Most of all, I thank my readers for embracing the series and for loving cats. It has made all the difference.

  If you enjoyed Claws of Action, be sure not to miss all of Linda Reilly’s Cat Lady Mystery series, including

  Feline deadly this Christmas…

  Whisker Jog, New Hampshire, celebrates all things Christmas, and few things are more beloved than the town’s annual holiday cookie competition. Lara Caphart, who runs the High Cliff Shelter for Cats with her Aunt Fran, is waiting for the green light for a brand-new category: pet-friendly cookies. But when the woman filling in as a last-minute judge dies after sampling someone’s Santa-themed treat, Lara’s recipe for healthy cat snacks will have to be put on the back burner.

  The victim, Gladys Plouffe, was the town’s roundly despised former home econo
mics teacher. The chief suspect is the mother of Lara’s best friend, who was hell-bent on walking away with the bake-off’s cash prize. Cryptic clues from beyond the grave only deepen the mystery, pointing to a cat with striking blue eyes—a cat who bears an uncanny resemblance to Lara’s mysterious Ragdoll. As Lara begins a dangerous game of cat and mouse, not even her significant other may be able to stop a perfectly clawful killer from getting away with the purr-fect crime…

  Turn the page for a special excerpt!

  A Lyrical Underground e-book on sale now.

  Chapter 1

  “Lara, I need your help,” Sherry Bowker said. “I think my mom is about to commit murder. Someone has to stop her, and I’ve decided that someone is you. You’re the one who’s had experience with this murder gig. You’re the perfect gal for the job.”

  “What? Me!” Lara Caphart huffed out a breath. “I beg to differ, Ms. Bowker. What you call experience was more like bad luck. Really bad luck.”

  Over the past year Lara had encountered two different murderers. She’d come out of it with her life intact but had no intention of performing any encores.

  “Yeah, you say that,” Sherry said darkly. “But there’s something about you. You have a knack for latching on to killers. I don’t want my mom to be one of them. Think of it as murder in reverse.”

  Lara groaned. “I do not latch on to killers. Not intentionally, anyway.” She went back to the task at hand, namely, untangling a lump of matted fur from Purrcival’s silky neck. The sweet-tempered cat with the kaleidoscope markings had a knot that just wouldn’t quit.

  They sat cross-legged on the floor in the large parlor of the Folk Victorian home in Whisker Jog, New Hampshire, owned by Lara’s Aunt Fran. Eleven months earlier, the house had officially become the High Cliff Shelter for Cats. Lara and her aunt had already rescued several cats and placed them in loving homes. The shelter’s current feline community consisted of Aunt Fran’s own three furbabies, a feral male, and four kitties that were rescued over the summer.