Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.”

  “So what. I like to put a spin on things. What have you got?”

  “Fine.” I nod over to Jackson. “He was there and said something about giving me a night to remember.”

  Tilly bucks and moans as if she were in physically pain.

  “Well hell.” She glances around. “I’d better get to knitting me some socks. If I’m going to grow old alone, I may as well warm my own feet.” She takes off just as Jackson strides this way with not one but two familiar women on his arms, and I gasp.

  Not only am I being treated to Kiera Hillerman, but he’s got Sophia Hathaway pinned to his other side.

  I’d better text Shep and let him know we’ve got a smorgasbord of suspects to choose from.

  Jackson presses out a smile as he steps up with the blonde and the redhead.

  “If it isn’t the lovely Tilly Teasdale and the lovely Bowie Binx.” He scans the area, momentarily confused. It’s almost as if he rehearsed his lines before Tilly took off and he forgot to modify the script. He gives an amicable nod my way. “When my mother invited me to bring a couple of friends along for drinks in the library, I had no idea we’d have such lovely company.”

  Tilly swims over to him and scooches Sophia out of position. “I believe you called me lovely.”

  “And I mean it.” His lips curve with naughty intent. “While I have the two of you here, I want to invite you to the mourning mixer I’ll be hosting at the Hathaway estate over in Sterling Lake next weekend. Sophia’s father was quite fond of Maddie. I tried to arrange for a gathering here in her honor, but he insisted we host it at his home.”

  Mourning mixer? Wow, the rich do everything on another level. Even their funerals sound better.

  Sophia’s mouth twitches. “Yes, Daddy misses Maddie as much as the rest of us. She was an invaluable employee and cherished friend.”

  Jackson nods. “Of course, there will be drinks and lively conversation.”

  “A booze and schmooze?” Tilly has that squirrely look in her eyes as if the cute boy in class just invited her to prom. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

  “For sure,” I say. “That was very nice of you to extend the invite. And I hope you don’t mind all of this.” I give a quick wave at the library. “Tonight is Stitch Witchery, one of Opal’s most famed social events here in Starry Falls.”

  Tilly nods. “We craft up a storm, gossip, and get boozy ourselves.” She winces at a group of teenage girls congregating around the teacups who look as if they’re getting a little too close to the whiskey at hand. “Jessie?” Tilly crows. “Don’t you think about getting near my liquor. I’m not carrying you home again.” She takes up Jackson’s hand. “Come on heart-attack-Jack.” She offers him a flirtatious wink. “Let me show you what I’m capable of with my gene pool.” They trot off and I’m left standing with Kiera and Sophia, both of which look as if they need a stiff drink, stat. I’m getting close myself.

  “Are either of you girls crafty by nature?” I’m not sure why I asked. I’m pretty sure I know the answer. And it would be yes, but crafty with these two socialites has an entirely different meaning.

  A dark laugh strums from Kiera as she looks to Sophia.

  “Come on, Soph. Pick up a couple of knitting needles and show us what you’ve got.”

  Sophia tucks a crimson lock behind her ear. “Now, now, Kiera. Everyone knows you knitted that crooked scarf you wore last winter yourself.”

  “Crocheted,” Kiera barks back before gasping.

  “Ah-ha!” Sophia snaps with glee. “Knew it. You’re a closet crafter.” She says those last two words as if they were the slimiest words on the planet.

  “So what if I am?” Kiera roars.

  If it wasn’t clear we had a situation brewing before, it’s pretty apparent now.

  Regina slinks up to my side with a maniacal giggle bubbling from her.

  “There’s nothing like a couple of billionaires about to have a slug-fest.” She does her best to whisper. But Kiera shoots her a look, assuring us she heard.

  “I’ll have you know, neither of us are billionaires.” Kiera turns her full rage back where it belongs, on the redhead in front of her. “And so what if I’m a closet crafter? Maybe if you did something other than sit on your behind, you wouldn’t be in the predicament you’re in.”

  Sophia glances my way before huffing at the thought. “If by predicament, you mean in love, then so be it. And what’s this?” She inches forward to the contemptuous blonde. “I think I see a hint of a unibrow forming. I always knew you were nothing but a Madeline Swanson knockoff. And once you braid your brows together, the rest of the world will know it, too!”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Kiera grunts. “Madeline had style. She was unique, which is more than I can say for you.”

  “Oh, please.” Sofia clasps her hand over her chest as if she just took a bullet. “I’m the one who has to step into Maddie’s shoes now that she’s gone in order to keep my father’s philanthropy endeavors from capsizing. All you do, day in and day out, is ask people to sniff your feet!”

  Regina leans in. “She’s not wrong.”

  “Ha!” Sophia barks out a laugh. “Hear that, Kiera? This woman knows I’m right. You think you have the universe dialed in. That only you can predict what’s hot and what’s not.” Sophia claps her hands above her head. “Hear ye, hear ye! Everyone bow down to Kiera Hillerman, the magnificent sage who knows everything about nothing. No need for a physician, cast aside your fortunetellers, no need to be a free thinker—instead, submit to Kiera’s ridiculous wisdom!” She leans in toward the bitter blonde. “Line right up to buy her two thousand dollar T-shirts and fifty thousand dollar chandelier earrings on her website where she tries to prove she’s just like one of you.”

  Kiera sucks in a breath as she looks around at the crowd. “I don’t try to prove I’m just like one of you on my website,” she shouts to the dozens of women who have stalled their knitting needles while observing the shout-fest at hand. “I try to prove I’m just like one of you on my social media page. Please follow me at Kiera don’t care dot com! You’ll find links to all of my social media outlets. And just a quick freebie, grow out your brows right now, ladies. It’s always prudent to stay ahead of a trend!”

  Regina quickly snags Sophia and navigates her over to the counter for a little comfort, while I head over to Kiera in an attempt to comfort her with words rather than hard liquor.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as the room roars back to life at a far more intense volume than it had been.

  “Oh, I’m fine.” The sassy blonde averts her eyes. “Sophia is just bitter because she thinks I’m getting it on with Maddie’s ex.” She rolls her eyes at the thought. “Sophia never did appreciate a little competition.”

  “Oh? So have you, you know? Offered to console him?”

  “Lucas?” She shrugs as if she were indifferent to the idea. “I don’t think he needs consoling.” She shoots a sharp look to Sophia. “She’s got that handled. But I wouldn’t call what they share love.” She grunts at the thought because that’s exactly what Sophia referred to it as a few angry minutes ago.

  “Hey, Kiera, can I ask you something?” I step in close and she nods for me to continue. “I heard a rumor that Madeline stole a serum that Parker Goldman was working on.”

  Her eyes enlarge twice their size.

  “I didn’t realize that.” She takes a breath as she looks to Sophia. “That’s unfortunate Maddie had to stoop so low. She was Parker’s biggest supporter.” She gives a little laugh as if breathing a sigh of relief. “I guess I could use a shot of whiskey after all. Excuse me.” She takes off, and I keep an eye on both her and Sophia for the rest of the night.

  But something about that conversation doesn’t sit well with me. Kiera looked a little too relieved to hear Maddie was being pinned with the beauty-based crime, and it makes me wonder.

  The night winds down and Jackson helps Till
y and me haul the tea sets back to the café to be washed in the morning. It’s almost ten o’clock at night and Opal doesn’t pay me near enough to keep me here another second.

  Once we’re through, Jackson picks up Tilly’s hand, and for a second I think he’s admiring her alternating black and purple fingernail polish, but he leans in and gazes right into her starstruck eyes.

  “You ready?” He winks her way.

  “You bet, rocket man.” She winks right back.

  “Good.” He gives a seductive growl. “Because I’m going to give you a night to remember.”

  “The vision!” Tilly gasps and squeals as she jumps up and down. “It was for me!” She jumps over and gives my shoulders a rattle before yanking Jackson out the door so fast I don’t get a chance to say goodbye or wish them well, or tell Jackson that I hope he survives whatever Tilly has planned for him. I’m pretty sure it concerns a meat hook that’s been underused in her bedroom since Christmas.

  I guess I’m not the one getting lucky tonight.

  Not that I would have taken Jackson up on his indecent proposition.

  I lock up and head home, passing Shep’s cabin slowly because I’m tempted to make an indecent proposition myself.

  But instead, I head on into my cabin and curl up with Pixie on the couch while thinking about Kiera and that vision I had of her and Lucas a few weeks back.

  “Nobody needs to know,” he said to her as he gave her a slight rattle.

  “Nobody tells me what to do,” she snipped right back. “I should have done this the very first night and saved myself the trouble.”

  “What trouble could they have been talking about?” No sooner do I pose the question to Pixie than a knock erupts at my door and my heart seizes. “Why does that sound like trouble?” I whisper as I squeeze the tiny kitten close.

  “It’s me, Bowie.” Shep’s voice comes through the other side, muffled.

  “Oh, thank God.” I carry Pixie over with me in hopes Shep is here to offer up an indecent proposition of his own.

  “Shep!” I beam a greedy grin his way in the event he’s got a few naughty intentions up his sleeve. Nothing wrong with giving him all the green lights. A man needs to know when he’s got the all clear in the dirty department. “What brings you a knockin’ at this indecent hour?” I do my best to flirt, ala Tilly.

  I wouldn’t knock it. It happens to be working for her.

  Shep’s hair is slicked back, his eyes shine like stars, and he’s far too comely for his own good at this late hour. Someone is liable to take a bite right out of him if he’s not careful, and that someone is me.

  “I’ve got a gift for you.” He holds out a diamond tennis bracelet in his hand and I gasp.

  “Wow, Shep.” I pull it forward. “I didn’t think we were at this stage in our relationship,” I tease, admiring the string of jewels as they sparkle in the night.

  “Neither did I,” he says it stern and I get the feeling there’s a lot more behind this tennis bracelet than some simple gift.

  My life has never been simple.

  I don’t see why it should start in that direction now.

  Chapter 11

  All morning and well into the afternoon at the Manor Café I think about the nefarious origins of this sparkler on my wrist. Of course, I’m wearing it. Who in their right mind would leave a gem like this locked away for safekeeping? As far as I’m concerned, whoever sent this to me via snail mail already knows exactly where I live.

  I suppose that depressing fact alone should have me tossing my secondhand treasures into Wanda’s trunk and zipping off to Canada where I should have gone to begin with. But not one inch of my fugitive flesh wants to boot scoot to the Great Frozen North. Why would I want to snuggle with a polar bear when I could snuggle with a stud muffin who brings me jewels at midnight?

  Regina struts over with a sour expression on her face.

  “Oh, come on, stop staring at that string of fakes as if it weren’t tacky. I almost feel sorry for you.” She pulls my wrist forward and examines the bauble dripping from it with the expert scrutiny of a jeweler. “My God, I think this is the real deal. Who gave this to you? Was it the old man who sat in the corner yesterday? I gave him thirteen refills and looked the other way when he almost gassed the entire café out onto the patio.”

  “Nope.” I pluck my wrist back. “Shep gave it to me.” I shrug over at her with a mischievous smile. I couldn’t help it. That little nugget not only rings true, but it’s worth the guaranteed rise I’ll get out of her.

  A laugh bucks from her chest.

  “Shep doesn’t give diamonds,” she’s quick to school me. “And if he did, he would have passed a few my way a long time ago. I earned them.”

  “The old-fashioned way, I’m assuming.”

  A shadow darkens the counter, and we turn to find my diamond dealer himself at hand.

  Regina cinches a knowing smile. “Bowie Bologna here thinks you gifted her this tennis bracelet. Newsflash: it’s real and I think it’s hot—as in stolen property.” She shrugs my way. “Sorry, boss, but I have no problem turning you over to the authorities.”

  “Go on, Shep.” I bite down on a naughty grin waiting to take over my face. “Tell Regina where I got this icy bling.”

  His chest expands, and that look in his hooded eyes lets me know I’ll pay for this later. If only he knew the ways I preferred to be punished.

  “I gave it to her.” He glances to Regina. “Does that answer your question?”

  “What?” The word rips from her like an expletive. “Oh no, you didn’t.” She swats him with a dishrag. “You’ve known her for less than five minutes, and I gave you the best six months of my life.”

  He inches back. “Regina, we were never together.”

  “Aaargh!” she roars in his face before taking off to tend to customers. Judging by that scowl and raging look in her eyes, the only tip she garners today might be a foul odor or two.

  “Bowie.” Shep growls.

  “What? I had to tell her it came from you. I don’t like to lie,” I say, petting my new toy. “So what brings you to the café? Ready to pen your next masterpiece?”

  “I was just on my way to question a suspect when I got the heads-up regarding the mystery mail you’ve been receiving.”

  I gasp as I make my way around the counter. “Where did it come from?”

  “Pennington.”

  My fingers fly over my lips. “That’s right next door to Hastings.” The words come out whiny, and it makes me hate my ex Johnny Rizzo even more for making me resort to it.

  “I know.” Shep sighs hard as he steps in close. “I’m sorry, Bowie. You might be in very real danger. But don’t worry.”

  “Why? Do you have a way to fix this?”

  His cheek flinches and that dark scruff begs for me to touch it.

  “No,” he says. “I just don’t want you to worry. Take care of the café. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “I was just about to leave myself.” I lift a brow his way.

  “Bowie.” He closes his eyes a minute too long. “All right. Let’s have it. Who are you off to see?”

  “You go first,” I say.

  “Lucas Lane.”

  “My, my.” A daring smile rides on my lips. “Aren’t we living in a small, rotten world?”

  Shep scowls my way at the thought.

  “Just give me a second, Honey Bunch.” I give a cheeky wink as I collect my purse. “My car or yours?”

  * * *

  Shep drove. As he should. His truck is just a hair more reliable than Wanda.

  On the way over, we discussed the fact Madeline supposedly sold Parker Goldman’s fishy fountain of youth to one of his competitors, and Shep let me know that not only was he already apprised of that, but he spoke with Eternally Young Cosmetics, the company that bought the formula, and there was no trace of who exactly gave it to them. It was all done in a clandestine manner to protect the guilty serum thief.

  Figures.


  But right now, it’s onward and forward. It’s all investigative systems go for the suspect we’re about to shake down—Lucas Lane. It turns out, Lucas works for his father’s investment strategy company as a consultant, and Shep had the wherewithal to set up an appointment with him.

  Since Nora, aka Detective Grimsley, Shep’s ex, was tasked with doing Lucas’ official interrogation, I convinced Shep that we go in as a couple under the pretense of wanting to find someplace snazzy on Wall Street to park my shiny, new, albeit fictional, inheritance.

  “Who knew this bejeweled bangle would come in handy?” I wiggle the diamonds dripping from my wrist.

  “Not me.” He gives a wistful tick of the head. “Look, Bowie. He’s probably going to recognize me. I’ll have to be honest with him.”

  I make a face. “Fine, but can you save your honesty for all of fifteen minutes?” I ask while adjusting his tie and taking a moment to smooth my hands over his chest in an effort to remove any impending wrinkles, of course—and check for the six-pack I suspect him of withholding. Then, I gently comb his hair with my fingers, and before I know it, I’m dusting my palms over that prickly scuff on his cheeks. “Oh God,” I moan without meaning to. Okay, fine. I meant it.

  “Bowie,” he says it low and deep, and an uncontrollable quiver whips through me. “Kitten,” he says it with a bit more zip, and I slap him over the chest.

  “Have it your way.”

  Shep and I head into the brown stucco building with its smoky glass windows and beige interior. A secretary gives us directions to Lucas Lane’s office and, just as we’re almost there, a familiar blonde heads our way with Lucas striding right beside her. I can’t help but note his hand is touching the lower half of her back.

  “Kiera?” Her name blurts from my lips before I can stop it.

  “Zoey.” Her face brightens at the sight of me. “And this is your boyfriend, right? The one we met the night of Maddie’s unfortunate demise.” She winces before winking over at Shep.

  So much for a cover. Shep and I had already determined we’d play the husband-wife angle with Lucas, but boyfriend-girlfriend works for me, too. Hopefully, she won’t say anything about Shep’s role in the investigation.