Meow for Murder Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  Shep shakes his head. “I don’t know. The guy is awaiting trial for stealing from the government and the Morettis. His finances have been frozen. The thought of him sending you diamonds seems a bit of a stretch. It almost seems like a nice gesture. As if the sender wants you to hock it if you need a little spare change. Do you know anyone else with those initials? Your mother?”

  And then it hits me.

  “My sister.”

  Chapter 15

  Wallace Hathaway’s estate is comprised of lush rambling acres. There’s a pond out back where the guests congregate, twinkle lights strewn in every maple and oak, and it affords a magical appeal on this brisk fall evening. Pumpkins dot the periphery of the pond along with oversized terracotta pots filled with amber-colored mums. Mammoth white tents house lengthy tables that play host to rows and rows of shiny silver chafing dishes, each one brimming with something delicious to fill our stomachs.

  Tilly and I showed up with Opal, each one of us in our Saturday night social finery. For Tilly that amounts to a fitted denim blue dress that hardly covers her rear, for me a simple red number that cuts off just above my knee, and for Opal an entire buffet of chainmail, fishnets, leather, and lace. And as if that jumble of mix and match materials wasn’t enough, she’s donned a pearl choker, and brooch in the shape of a black widow.

  You have to give it to Opal. While some insist less is more, she screams more is never enough.

  The old me could really get behind her materialistic motto. The new me is too broke to even think about it.

  Jackson Mortimer strides out of the shadows with a dangerous smile on his lips, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s all for Tilly.

  “Ladies,” he says without taking his eyes off of her. “Mother, Bowie—pleasant to see you.” He tucks a kiss to the nape of Tilly’s neck. “Ms. Teasdale, you are sublime.”

  “Hear that?” I elbow Opal in the ribs. “He called her sublime. Who knows? You might just get another family member out of this deal.”

  “Ooh, speaking of family members.” Opal yanks open the giant tote bag strapped to her shoulders and plucks out a fuzzy white Himalayan that glows like winter snow. “Aggie wanted to come along, and I couldn’t say no.” She strokes the sweet angel over the back, and I do the same.

  “Aggie!” I land a kiss to her fuzzy forehead. “Fancy meeting you here. I wish I thought to bring Pixie.”

  Opal lifts a brow my way and I quickly point in the opposite direction.

  “I think I see the dessert table. Excuse me, calories are calling.”

  The dessert tent is lit up with pink and purple twinkle lights, giving each of the sweet treats heaped over silver platters an ethereal glow. I make my way to the chocolate chip cookies and begin scooping them up by the handful and shoving them into my mouth. I’ve never been a dainty eater. I don’t see why I should start now.

  “Well, well”—Regina Valentine pops up in a pretty pink dress that looks more like a negligée—“if it isn’t the banana cake bandit. After shoving your face into that eight-inch round double layer cake, I’m shocked you have room for more. You’re not eating for two, are you?” She scowls my way. “Don’t tell me you’ve made Shep a father so soon in your negligible relationship.”

  “What are you rambling about?” I mumble through a mouthful. “First of all, Shep and I have yet to crest first base. Second of all, I’m not a fan of banana cake.” I swallow down the rest of my cookie. My sister Steph was the banana cake, bread, pudding, and pie fiend. The phallic fruit was a staple in what she called her dumped depository. Steph has gone through more men than the United States Marines. And she’s had about as many broken hearts, too, thus the food bank she kept on hand to aid in healing her next heartbreak.

  Regina squints over at me. “How did you get your hair dark again so fast?”

  “Again, what are you talking about? I’d check you for a fever, but I highly doubt your delirium has anything to do with your body temperature.”

  “Your hair, you dyed it a brassy shade of blonde. I told you I hated it and you told me where to go using an entire barrage of four-letter words.” A husky laugh emits from her as if she enjoyed the salty exchange, and I’m betting she did.

  “Regina, I’ve never had blonde hair. My sis—” I stop cold. My sister looks like my twin, save for her brassy self-induced highlights.

  I glance down to the tennis bracelet on my wrist and gasp.

  “Calm down.” Regina strides past me and begins loading up on chocolate chip cookies herself. “I won’t tell Opal about the dessert heist. Besides, I like having something over you.”

  I stagger away from the tent, sucking in as much fresh night air as possible.

  Steph is here. Well, not here in Sterling Lake at the Hathaway compound, but she’s in Starry Falls.

  “Psst!”

  The sharp hiss emits from my left and I spot a glowing face near a hedge of bushes. A woman steps out from the shadows, and that shock of brassy blonde hair, that familiar face, leaves me frozen solid with fear.

  “Stephanie?” I hiss back as I trot on over and, sure enough, it’s my sweet little sis—alive and in the flesh.

  We wrap our arms around one another so tight it feels as if we’re about to meld into one.

  I pull back and grab her by the shoulders.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” I give her a little rattle. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

  Steph makes a face and it’s like looking in a mirror. Although I’ve always thought her nose was a little more pert than mine, but she’s never agreed with me about that. She’s never agreed with me on just about anything.

  “I’m not getting us killed.” She quickly wipes away a few errant tears. “I went up to see Daddy last month, and he told me you called. He thought he knew where you might be and he was right.” She shrugs. “Uncle Vinnie got that cute pillow you made. He showed it to Mom, Lorenzo, and me. We’ve all been worried sick.”

  “So you had to come up and bring the Morettis with you?”

  “Nobody followed me. I followed that Regina chick. I was careful. Cross my heart and hope to die.” She quickly makes an X over her chest.

  “Yeah, well. That’s one wish that just might come true.”

  “How long have you been here? Did you send this bracelet?” I hold it up for her to see and it glitters in the moonlight just like those tears streaking across her face.

  “That’s right.” She scowls over at it. “Eddie Ferrari gave it to me as an I’m sorry for sleeping with Lorretta Vitali.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “Eddie knew you hated Lorretta.”

  “Everybody knew I hated Lorretta,” she snips back. “Anyway, that’s when I went to see Dad.”

  “And that’s also when you started doing a few drive-bys with the notes. Have you been in Vermont this entire time?”

  “I went home twice, but I’m here to stay. I’m not going back to Hastings ever again. I’ve had it with Eddie. He’s flaunting Lorretta around like a new Lamborghini, and to make matters worse, his family has welcomed her with open arms. I hate him. I hate her. And right now, I hate half of Hastings.”

  “So you need a vacation,” I say in hopes of steering her toward a cruise in the South Pacific.

  “I need a new residence. I’ll be staying with you until I can figure things out. I need to be as far away from Hastings as possible. I need family right now, too, Stella. And face it, you check off two boxes.”

  “You can’t—” I glance over my shoulder before pulling her behind the hedge with me. “Steph, you can’t call me Stella. My name is Bowie Binx. And don’t you dare breathe that name outside of my presence—as in when you go back home. You got it?”

  She gives a solemn nod before craning her neck past me. “This looks like some fancy party. I bet that cute boyfriend of yours is here. I caught an eyeful when he was going out to get the mail. Leave it to you, Stella—I mean, Bowie, to move in with the most handsome stud muffin in all of Vermont.”<
br />
  “Yeah, well, that hottie and I don’t live together. He’s my landlord.” Speaking of that handsome stud muffin, he said he’d be here in just a bit once he finished up at the sheriff’s station.

  I glance back at the crowd to see if he’s already arrived, but there’s no sign of him. Instead, I spot a redhead laughing with a group of friends.

  That’s Sophia Hathaway.

  If I can just ask her a few more questions, I’m sure she’ll be able to help me pin Kiera Hillerman to a murderous wall.

  I glance back to my sister. “And thank you for giving me an idea, Steph.” I pull my house key out and land it in her palm. “You go straight to my place. I’ll buy every banana pie from here to Starry Falls before I get back and we’ll watch rom-coms until we’re seeing double.”

  “Oh, that sounds deliciously perfect.” She clutches the key to her chest. “Thank you Ste—Bowie.” She gives a little shrug. “You’re not really mad at me, are you?”

  “For missing your big sis? Never.” For leading who knows who right to my doorstep? Well, that’s another issue entirely. “I’ll be home soon. Make sure nobody sees you—and don’t make any pit stops! And for God’s sake—don’t go to the manor.”

  “Got it.” She pulls me in for another tight embrace before taking off into the night.

  My phone buzzes in my purse, and I fish it out to find a text from Shep.

  Running late. Wanted to let you know I spoke to my sister. She said BD stands for backdated. I bet whoever moved those funds had no idea the software had an internal measure set in place to trace the date. See you in a bit. Stay out of trouble.

  Backdated?

  The date of that half a million dollar transaction was backdated to a week before Madeline died. Interesting. Someone moved that money after Madeline died in an effort to make it look as if she did it.

  But who?

  And could they also be the killer?

  I glance back to Sophia just as her band of friends disperses.

  Now to get to the bottom of Madeline Swanson’s murder once and for all.

  I make a beeline for the redhead in question just as she accepts a glass of wine from a roving waitress.

  “Bowie.” Her voice hikes with what sounds like a genuine pleasure to see me. “You want one?” She points to her glass, and I quickly shake my head.

  “Things didn’t end so well for me the last time I imbibed.”

  A laugh bubbles from her. “Yes, the llama races. If it makes you feel better, your llama won. Just about every woman there ordered a hat from that designer.”

  “It’s nice to know my time as a llama jockey didn’t go to waste.” I give a quick look around at the crowd. “This is some shindig.” I nod toward the bodies floating around the periphery of the pond. “Madeline sure was loved by many.”

  “That she was.” She shrugs. “But we already knew that.”

  “I saw Kiera here.” I brighten with the lie, but I have no doubt she’s roaming the grounds. “She really misses Madeline, too. And after that donation from your father to her company, I bet she’ll do something to honor both Madeline and him.”

  Her shoulders bounce with a dry laugh. “Maybe a—smells like Madeline Swanson’s dead body candle? Or a smells like stolen Hathaway money candle? Kiera is swine as far as I’m concerned. That ridiculous company of hers was tottering on financial oblivion a few weeks back. She owes my father plenty—like a repayment.”

  “Goober was having financial trouble?”

  She nods. “It’s never been in the black. I heard she was about to close up shop a few weeks back. Must be nice to get a miracle when you need it. Even if you have to take it yourself.”

  “Hey, I spoke to the detective working on her case and he said that half a million dollar donation your father supposedly made to Kiera’s company might have been backdated.”

  Her brows pinch a moment. “What does that mean?”

  “It means whoever transferred that money to Goober did so after Madeline died. How do you think Kiera pulled that off?”

  She blinks back. “I don’t know.” Her features harden. “But I’m sure as heck about to find out.” She stalks off before I could properly interrogate her.

  Great.

  That got me exactly nowhere.

  A man in a red suit walks by, and I wince at the garishness of his accouterments before I remember I’ve seen them before.

  “Lucas?” I call out and catch up to him near a grove of oaks lit up like Christmas trees.

  Lucas has his hair slicked back and a friendly smile to greet me.

  “Bowie Binx.” He lifts his drink my way as if he was toasting me. “Did you ever find someplace to park your money?”

  “Not yet.” I shrug. “I’m keeping all of my options open at the moment.” I nod down at the suit. “I remember you wearing this the night Madeline died.”

  A thump of a laugh ejects from him. “It was an inside joke between the two of us. She said I looked like the devil in it. A handsome devil.” He gives a wistful look around. “I can’t believe she’s gone. I won’t lie. I thought she was hamming it up the night she collapsed. I had just arrived and saw her twirling around, clutching at her throat. I thought it was a cry for attention.” His chest bucks a moment. “But it wasn’t.” He sniffs my way.

  That must be why he was observing her with so little emotion on his face.

  “Sophia mentioned that you and Madeline were in a rough patch recently.”

  He bows his head a moment. “We were. I was tired of it all. Madeline was more interested in how to lure more followers to her social media feeds than she was in us. The horrible part is, I was about to tell her that I couldn’t do it anymore. I was ready to throw in the towel that night with her. But once I realized she was gone,” he shakes his head, “it made me regret almost all of my choices over the past few months. And, ironically, some of my friends are feeling the same way.” He squints out at the crowd, and I follow his gaze right up until I spot Kiera. “Excuse me, Bowie. I see someone I need to talk to.” He takes off in haste before I can stop him.

  So that’s why he was watching Madeline from across the room that night. He was already over her and her social media hungry antics. But Madeline wasn’t faking anything that night—and she received the attention I’m sure she didn’t want.

  Parker ducks into the dessert tent, and I’m more than happy to follow him.

  Not only am I having a serious hankering for more of those oven fresh chocolate chip cookies, but I have a sudden hankering to speak with Parker Goldman himself.

  Parker’s summer tan is still in full effect and he glows in a white dress shirt and stone-colored chinos. He snaps up a few of those coveted chocolate chip cookies, and I’m right there next to him doing the same.

  “My favorite,” I say as I look to him.

  “Bowie.” He frowns a moment. “How are Opal and Tilly doing? I haven’t heard from them. That usually means they’re happy with their treatments.”

  They haven’t smiled in a week, but I keep that little tidbit to myself.

  “They’re thrilled with their new wrinkle-free faces.” Not that they can convey as much now that facial expressions are a thing of the past for the two of them—at least temporarily.

  I glance back in the direction Lucas took off with Kiera, but they’re out of sight.

  “Parker, that day I was in your office we talked about the security breech that resulted in your life’s work ending up in your competitor’s hands. Any word on who could have done that?” It’s already pretty clear Madeline did the dirty deed, but I need to hear him say it as well.

  He takes a full breath. “No. But the thing is, there was no security breech. It was an inside job. I kept the exact formulation on a printout, locked in a safe that only I had the key to.”

  “What do you mean a printout? Don’t you have it stored on the computer systems at the lab? I mean, the people who were working on it needed that formula to develop it and run the pr
oper tests. Right?”

  “Right and wrong. I developed the batches myself and distributed them to the team. Sure they could see what the serum was composed of, but only I knew the exact formula to make the magic happen. My hardware was being hacked a little too often for me to feel safe, so I removed it. I printed it out and hid it in the heart of my office. Nobody had the key but me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know what to say.” I shake my head, trying to process it all. “Parker, who else knew the combination to your safe?”

  “It was under lock and key. And I had that damn key on me at all times.”

  “No spare?”

  He shrugs. “I had a spare at my place.”

  “Do you think that’s where Madeline got it?”

  He inches back. “Madeline? Why would Madeline steal the formula? I was giving her all the treatments she wanted. Besides, I’ve never taken her to my place.” His cheek flinches.

  “You preferred hotels?” I don’t mind calling him out on his philandering ways.

  He looks my way with a hostile air about him.

  “Fine, we were having a fling. Everyone knows it. Who the hell cares? But I didn’t bring her to my place. She didn’t take the key.”

  “I heard she was upset about being denied treatments until the serum was approved by the FDA. That was motive right there to get the key.”

  He inches back. “That’s not true. In fact, Maddie was the only one I was offering treatments to until the serum’s approval came through.” He glowers at me a moment. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a drink.”

  He stalks off, and I’m left with my mouth open, another question on my tongue, but it’s too late.

  “She didn’t take the key?” Or at least Parker seems convinced of it.