Claws for Celebration
Page 1
Cover Copy
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 economics teacher. The chief suspect is the mother of Lara’s best friend, who was hellbent 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…
Also by Linda Reilly
The Cat Lady Mystery Series
Escape Claws
Claws of Death
Claws for Celebration
Table of Contents
Cover Copy
Also by Linda Reilly
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Claws for Celebration Cast of Feline Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Teaser Chapter
About the Author
CLAWS FOR CELEBRATION
A Cat Lady Mystery
Linda Reilly
LYRICAL UNDERGROUND
Kensington Publishing Corp.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Lyrical Underground books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2018 by Linda Reilly
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Lyrical Underground and the Lyrical Underground logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: December 2018
eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0418-5
eISBN-10: 1-5161-0418-8
First Print Edition: December 2018
ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0421-5
ISBN-10: 1-5161-0421-8
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
For Mom
Acknowledgments
To my editor, Martin Biro, and my agent, Jessica Faust, I owe you both a world of thanks for getting the Cat Lady Mysteries into the hands of readers.
And to my husband, family, and friends, I couldn’t have done any of this without your unflagging patience and support.
Claws for Celebration Cast of Feline Characters
Twinkles: An orange-striped tiger cat with big gold eyes, he’s only now beginning to experience the joys of reading.
Ballou: A black, short-haired feral with an adorable white ’stache, he might just be succumbing to the charms of a sweet little tortie.
Munster: This orange-striped male, the unofficial greeter of all human visitors, is a favorite of the kids on “read to a cat” Sundays.
Dolce: Long-haired, solid black, and as sweet as a Christmas cookie, he’s found his permanent cozy spot curled up in Aunt Fran’s lap.
Snowball: This pure white sweetheart with one blue eye and one green eye loves to view the world from shoulder height; and while she has yet to find her furever home, she’s become a household favorite.
Butterscotch: This skittish marmalade male never warmed up to his rescuers, but the sweet sound of a little boy’s voice might just be the secret charm that rocks his world.
Valenteena: Alias “Teena,” this tiny but regal-looking black-and-white cat with a heart-shaped marking under her chin is vocal and demanding, but all she really wants is to be loved...and fed.
Purrcival: This endearing boy with the kaleidoscope markings is learning to challenge the pushy Valenteena by finally putting his paw down!
Nutmeg: This sweet tortie with a half black/half gold face has quickly woven her way into the heart of the toughest guy in the shelter!
Blue: This stunning Ragdoll cat that only Lara can see has a penchant for pointing out clues to mysteries both past and present. Will the secrets of Blue’s spiritual backstory finally be revealed?
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 She
lter 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.
“First of all,” Lara said, smiling at what she hoped was her friend’s grand exaggeration, “I can’t picture Daisy Bowker killing anyone, let alone killing David’s mom. Second of all—”
“But that’s just it! She’s been doing things so out of character lately. Even David has noticed it.” A slight flush tinged Sherry’s cheeks. “He’s worried that his mom is becoming a bee in my mom’s bonnet. He doesn’t know how to stop his own mom without hurting her feelings.”
Sherry had been seeing David Gregson for about five months now and still wore the glow of having found the so-called perfect man. Lara thought it was way too early in the relationship to make that assumption. Still, she was happy for Sherry’s newly minted romance. She hadn’t seen such joy in her friend’s eyes for a very long time.
Lara liberated the furry knot from the soft-bristled brush and wrapped it in a paper towel. She kissed Purrcival’s head and released him from her grip. He rubbed his face on her chin, then padded away to score some extra love from Sherry. Sherry took the cat in her lap and stroked his mat-free fur.
Sherry groaned. “It’s all about the cookies, Lara. Mom and Loretta each got an email three days ago. They’re both finalists in the Whisker Jog Annual Cookie Challenge. I’m so bummed. I was praying Loretta wouldn’t make the cut.”
“Okay, well that doesn’t sound so bad,” Lara said. Except she knew that Daisy was putting all her hopes on winning the contest this year. She’d placed second three years in a row. This year she had her heart set on winning the thousand-dollar prize from the sponsor, The Bakers Thryce Flour Company. As for Loretta, Lara wasn’t so sure about her intentions. She didn’t really know the woman.
Sherry sank her fingers into Purrcy’s soft fur. The cat closed his eyes and purred. “You don’t get it, Lara. Lately, Loretta’s been copying everything Mom does. Last week she got a new hairstyle that looks suspiciously like Mom’s. Short in the back, longish on the sides, with a single blond streak. She’s like, you know, almost stalkerish!”
“That only means she admires Daisy,” Lara pointed out, though the image of a woman in her fifties copying another woman’s hairdo gave her a slight chill. “You should be happy.”
“I should be, but I’m not. It means she’s competing with Mom. I’m not sure what she’s competing for, but she’s in the flippin’ cookie contest. I didn’t even know she’d entered, and now she’s one of the thirty finalists!” Sherry pulled a strand of her raven-black hair into her mouth and chewed the ends. Lara hadn’t seen her do that since grade school.
“I hear you, Sher. And I’m not trying to dismiss your feelings. But trust me, Daisy won’t do anything crazy, even if David’s mom is driving her crazy.”
“Maybe not,” Sherry said grimly. “But you’d better be there. Just in case.” Her shoulders sagged. “Unfortunately, there’s one more thing that will not make Mom happy.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. Uh-oh. I just found out this morning that Gladys Plouffe, my old home ec teacher, is going to be one of the two judges. She’s a last-minute sub for the music teacher, who fell down the stairs two days ago and broke both her ankles.”
“You mean...the Plouffeinator?”
“You remembered,” Sherry said dismally. “And you never even met her!”
“I remember you telling me about the abominable Miss Plouffe,” Lara said. “Among other lovely names, you called her a witch of a...well, you know.”
“She tormented me in school, Lara,” Sherry said. “Gave me Ds for no reason except that I couldn’t, to save my life, thread that stupid sewing machine. Back in the day, Mom had more than a few screaming matches with her. I’m dreading Mom finding out that she’s a judge.”
“Does the...does Miss Plouffe still teach home ec?”
“She did until a year ago. Finally, finally the witch retired. But she had clout in that school, Lara. No one’s really sure why.” Sherry’s eyes took on a glazed, faraway look. “I can still see her, sitting alone in her room chomping on a ham sandwich. She never ate lunch in the teachers’ lounge, probably because none of them could stand her. I can’t think of one friend she ever had in that school.”
“Maybe she has dirt on someone,” Lara joked.
Sherry didn’t smile. “Has to be something. Anyway, you have to be at that competition next Saturday to keep a close eye on Mom.”
“Sher, I think you’re overthinking it, but I’ll definitely be there. I mean, who loves cookies more than I do?”
Sherry gave up a tiny smile. “Probably only Santa Claus.”
* * * *
Lara hadn’t told anyone, but she’d tried entering the contest herself. Not with people cookies, but with cat cookies.
Cookies for cats, that is.
The yearly cookie event was sponsored by The Bakers Thryce, a privately owned flour company founded at the end of World War II by one of Whisker Jog’s most beloved entrepreneurs—Holland Thryce. The business flourished until Holland’s sons, Tate and Holland, Jr., joined the company. It wasn’t long before all three had a falling out. Tate left with a bitter taste in his mouth, while Holland and his elder son continued with the business. Not long after Holland, Jr.’s son, Todd, was born, he and his wife died in a boating accident, leaving the child in the care of his grandparents.
As for Holland, who’d long since rolled out his last mound of cookie dough, his legacy thrived. His grandson, Todd Thryce, had carried the company into the twenty-first century by stubbornly refusing to go public. He’d also moved the company’s offices to a prestigious New York address.
None of which meant anything to Lara. It was the cookies and the contest she cared about.
She bit her lip and frowned. The letter she’d received ten days ago from the company was signed by Thryce’s personal assistant, Alice Gentry. Lara’s suggestion that a pet-friendly cookie category be added to the lineup was soundly, if politely, denied. “You may enter cookies that look like cats,” Ms. Gentry had crisply stated in the letter, “but not cookies that are for cats.”
The letter went on to say that if such a category were added, there would be no fair way to judge the entries. They couldn’t exactly ask the judges to taste cookies made from tuna, pumpkin, and boiled chicken livers.
Lara had to admit, they had a point. But that got her brain cells fired up. She came up with a way the cat cookies could be judged...and encourage cat adoptions at the same time. She only wished she’d thought of it before she sent off her letter to the company.
There was one more thing she could do, she decided. The contest was held each year in the gymnasium at Whisker Jog High School. In the opposite wing of the school, in the cafeteria, those who didn’t make the cut could offer their cookies for sale. The proceeds went to the local food bank.
She sat at the kitchen table and booted up her tablet, the scent of cloves and cinnamon wafting around her. Aunt Fran had made a pot of mulled cider. It simmered on the stove, making the room smell heavenly.
For some reason, the internet connection took forever. After what seemed like several minutes, Lara tried to pull up the Web site for the cookie competition. Another long wait. When the site finally came up, she smiled.
“You look intense,” Aunt Fran said, coming up behind her.
“Ach!” Lara jumped. “I didn’t even hear you. You’re quieter than a cat sometimes, you know that?”
Her aunt winked at her. “The easier to spy on you, my dear,” she said in a mock evil voice. On her shoulder, a small white cat with one blue eye and one green eye perched contentedly. The cat peered around the kitchen, her pink nose lifting at the scent.
Lara smiled and held out
her arms to the cat. Snowball leaped softly onto her lap and rubbed against her snowman-themed sweater. Lara bent and kissed the little feline’s soft white head.
“What do you think about this?” Lara asked her aunt. “What if I make my cookies for cats and sell them at one of the tables in the school cafeteria? According to the Web site, there are three tables left, and they’re up for grabs. It’ll only set me back ten bucks for the day.”
“Go for it,” Aunt Fran said. She pulled two Santa-shaped mugs out of her cupboard and set them on the counter. “You might start a whole new trend.”
Lara tapped at her tablet. The connection was slow, deathly slow. It took a few minutes to get to the page where she was able to reserve a table.
Aunt Fran set a mug of spicy warm cider on the table, behind Lara’s tablet. “Thanks,” Lara said distractedly. “Now I’m having trouble getting onto Google. The Wi-Fi’s acting wonky. It has been all day.”
Her aunt sat down adjacent to her. She wrapped her hands around her own mug and then took a slow sip.
“What are you trying to find?” Aunt Fran asked.
Lara grinned. “Cookies for cats. I want to find a recipe that I can tweak and make into my own. It’ll be so much fun to experiment.”
“You’ve only got another week,” her aunt warned.
“Don’t remind me,” Lara said wryly. After Thanksgiving was over, the days leading up to Christmas seemed to fly by on speedy little reindeer hooves.
“Darn.” Lara scowled and swiped at her tablet. The Wi-Fi was definitely acting up. Finally, she set aside her tablet and pulled her mug closer. The moment her lips touched the warm cider, she felt a smile creep across her face. “Yum,” she said, after taking her first sip. This is positively scrumptious.”
“Thank you.” Aunt Fran looked pleased.
“You know what? I think I’ll go to the library. I’ll bet they have a book or two on pet-friendly recipes. Plus, I’ll get to see that adorable Santa scene they set up every year.”