Murder in Cherry Hills (A Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 1)

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Murder in Cherry Hills (A Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 1) Page 2

by Paige Sleuth


  “What about the neighbors across the hall?” Andrew asked. “Do you think they might have heard something?”

  “The other two units on this floor are both vacant.”

  Andrew’s expression didn’t change. If he was disappointed by the lack of leads so far, he didn’t let on.

  “Hey, Andrew,” someone called out from the corridor. “Where are you? We’re ready to move the vic.”

  Andrew walked over to the front door and poked his head outside. “I’ll be out in a sec.” He turned to address Kat again. “I need to go join the crew. I’ll question you more later. In the meantime, here’s my business card. If you think of anything crucial to the case, call my cell or just step outside and ask around until you find me.”

  Kat took the card he offered and slipped it into her jeans pocket. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Andrew flashed her that smile again before disappearing into the hallway. Kat quietly shut the door behind him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Five hours later, the commotion outside Kat’s apartment began to die down. She figured the authorities had finally finished processing Mrs. Tinsdale’s apartment. She had hoped that Andrew would drop by again before he left, and found herself vaguely disappointed that he had departed without even a cursory goodbye.

  Matty had spent the entire afternoon drifting in and out of consciousness. Kat was amazed that one animal could sleep so much. Although Matty had roused herself long enough to bathe at one point, she had promptly gone back to sleep as soon as she finished.

  Now, Kat watched as Matty stood up and stretched. “Did you see what happened to Mrs. Tinsdale?” she asked.

  Matty turned her back to Kat and settled down again.

  Kat groaned. There she went again, interrogating a cat and expecting an answer. She used to think Mrs. Tinsdale was strange for carrying on conversations with the animal, yet here she was doing the same thing. But she couldn’t shake the notion that Matilda had witnessed what had happened earlier.

  Kat thought about Andrew’s claim that cats couldn’t be eyewitnesses and wondered if it were possible to prove him wrong. Before she knew it, she found herself brainstorming on ideas to get Matty to share what she knew about her owner’s fate.

  Kat almost had to laugh at herself. When they were kids, she and Andrew were always competing about something. Now they were both thirty-two, and she was back to trying to prove him wrong not six hours after their first encounter in over a decade.

  Still, if Matty could somehow communicate what she’d seen, maybe Kat could rest easier. She shuddered whenever she thought about a murderer skulking around next door with her sitting not fifty yards away.

  Kat slumped against the sofa. “Poor Mrs. Tinsdale.”

  Matty twisted her head over her shoulder to shoot Kat a glare when the couch cushions shook. But before Kat could even consider apologizing, Matty rotated back around to rest her chin on her paws.

  Kat eyed her new companion. That was one more thing she would have to get used to besides the murder: sharing her apartment with an animal. Kat had lived alone ever since she had been emancipated at age seventeen and learning to share her place—even if it was only with a cat—would require some adjustments.

  Someone knocked on the front door. “Kat?”

  Kat’s heart rate sped up at the sound of Andrew’s voice. She leapt off the sofa and rushed to answer the door, almost as if she feared he would stalk off if he didn’t get a response within the second.

  “I thought you left already,” Kat said, surprised by how happy she felt that he hadn’t ducked out without a goodbye after all.

  “The crew already headed out, but I told them I had to stay behind to take your statement. Maybe you can give us some leads as to who might have done this.”

  “Oh.” Kat wasn’t sure what he expected her to say. Although they lived next door to each other, she and Mrs. Tinsdale had been more acquaintances than friends. But she had liked the older woman, and if she could help she would.

  Andrew shifted, drawing Kat’s attention to the items he had cradled in his arms. “Now that we’ve finished processing Mrs. Tinsdale’s apartment, I gathered up all the cat things I could find.”

  “Great, thanks.” She swung the door wide and motioned him inside.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Kat asked as Andrew dumped the cat supplies in one corner of the living room. Matty pried one eye open to watch him.

  “Water would be great.”

  Kat ducked into the kitchen, grabbed two bottles of water, and returned to the living room. After handing one of the bottles to Andrew, she settled next to Matty again.

  Andrew sat down on the couch opposite them. “What can you tell me about Mrs. Tinsdale’s day-to-day activities?” he asked, twisting the cap off his bottle and taking a huge swallow from it.

  “Not much,” Kat admitted. “I do know she spent quite a bit of time volunteering for Furry Friends Foster Families.”

  Andrew set his water on the coffee table and fished a notebook and pen from his breast pocket. “Furry Friends Foster Families?”

  “It’s a non-profit organization that matches homeless animals with foster families until they’re adopted permanently,” Kat explained. “Placing the animals in a temporary home saves the organization from having to rent and staff a housing facility, and the foster families provide all the food and supplies. The organization really only needs to foot the bill for veterinary expenses.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Mrs. Tinsdale was on the board or something,” Kat said. “She called it 4F for short. I don’t know much about it other than that.”

  Andrew glanced at her. “Really? That seems like the kind of thing that’s right up your alley.”

  Kat shrugged. “I’ve been too busy looking for work and moving to take on anything else.”

  Andrew’s head bobbed as he wrote something in his notebook. Kat itched to peek at his notes, wondering if he was jotting down observations about her.

  “Did Mrs. Tinsdale get along with the other 4F volunteers?” Andrew asked.

  “She seemed to,” Kat said. “At least, she never said anything bad about anybody there.”

  “Do you know their names?”

  Kat drummed her fingers against the armrest. “Imogene Little, for one. Mrs. Tinsdale mentioned that she was their president and most involved member.”

  When Kat remained silent for a long moment, Andrew said, “Anybody else you remember?”

  “No, sorry.” Kat felt sheepish over how little she could recall, but she and Mrs. Tinsdale had only chatted when passing each other in the hallway or sharing an elevator. Now, she wished she had spent more time talking with the older woman. “I only remember Imogene because she’s lived here forever and I wait on her sometimes at Jessie’s Diner.”

  Andrew’s lips stretched into a smile. “You work at Jessie’s?”

  “Temporarily,” Kat replied. “I needed something to tide me over until I find a job in my field.”

  “What’s your field?”

  “Computers.”

  “Yeah, you were always good with that stuff.” Andrew leaned back and crossed his ankles, his face softening. “Remember when we used to save up all our change so we could sneak over to Jessie’s and order the biggest milkshakes they offered?”

  Kat laughed. “And Mr. and Mrs. Polanski were so nice they always gave them to us on the house.”

  Andrew grinned. “There are a lot of nice people in this town.”

  Kat stared at him, letting the old memories wash over her. He was right, there were a lot of nice people in Cherry Hills. She had forgotten that. She had spent so much of her childhood resenting the place where she was bounced from home to home like a ping-pong ball that she’d overlooked a lot of the town’s positives. Returning to her hometown as an adult, she could better appreciate the old-fashioned hospitality that ran rampant throughout the area.

  Andrew pus
hed his hair off his forehead. “Unfortunately, now we know there’s at least one person in town who isn’t so neighborly.”

  Kat’s spirits deflated as she remembered the real reason why Andrew was here. “I just can’t figure out who would have wanted to kill Mrs. Tinsdale,” she mused aloud. “Why harm such a pleasant old woman?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.” Andrew tapped his pen against the notebook. “Did Mrs. Tinsdale talk to you about any recent arguments she’d had? Maybe she said something about a spat with one of the other 4F volunteers?”

  Kat splayed her fingers. “She never mentioned anything like that. But we didn’t talk all that often either.”

  Andrew pursed his lips, appearing deep in thought.

  Kat crossed her legs, feeling inadequate over her inability to offer him more insight into her elderly neighbor’s life. She leaned her head against the sofa and tried to remember what else she knew about Mrs. Tinsdale’s activities. But other than 4F and her weekly trips to the grocery store, Mrs. Tinsdale didn’t strike Kat as all that social. She glanced at Matty. That probably explained why she had adopted a cat.

  Kat sat up straight, her heart lurching when she caught sight of the wall clock. “Oh, fiddlesticks! I’m late for work.”

  Andrew looked over at her. “Fiddlesticks?”

  Kat smacked her palm against her forehead. “It was something Mrs. Tinsdale used to say. I guess I picked it up from her.”

  One corner of Andrew’s mouth twitched. “Mrs. Tinsdale was eighty-four years old.”

  Kat jumped off the sofa to mask her embarrassment over the exclamation. “I really do have to get ready, so, if you don’t mind, you can see yourself out.”

  “Can I get your number first?” he asked. “You know, in case I have more questions.”

  “Sure.” Kat rattled off her cell phone number.

  “Thanks.” Andrew flipped his notebook shut and tucked it and his pen back into his shirt pocket. “You have my card. Call me if you think of anything else that might help our case.”

  “I will.”

  Andrew stared at her for what felt like a fraction too long. “I’ll see you around then.” He grinned, those dimples of his cutting into his cheeks. “Welcome back to Cherry Hills.”

  “It’s good to be back,” she said.

  And, for the first time since she’d set foot in town again, she realized it was.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jessie’s Diner was a Cherry Hills fixture. Ever since Kat was a child, she remembered gazing wistfully through the glass windows from the outside of the building, wishing she belonged to one of the nuclear families dining inside.

  Jessie Polanski had been fairly young herself when Kat was growing up. Jessie’s parents had named their restaurant after their one and only daughter back when they’d first opened, a tribute that made Kat’s heart ache with envy whenever she stopped to consider it. Now that Jessie was forty and managing the place, the diner had only become more popular. Jessie was an energetic woman who didn’t mind working as hard as her employees. She still maintained her parents’ legacy of treating each of her customers as if the business would collapse without their patronage.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Kat said now, bursting into the dining area where Jessie was wiping down tables. The intermingling aromas of marinara sauce and melted mozzarella assaulted her nose. She inhaled deeply. She could never get enough of how homey the diner smelled—especially when Jessie made her popular lasagna.

  Jessie set her towel down and dried her hands on her apron. The brunette bun the slim woman always sported looked as though it needed some adjustment. The sight caused a flash of guilt to sear through Kat. She hated the thought of her boss having to work extra hard to make up for her tardiness.

  “That’s okay,” Jessie said. “I heard about Hilda Tinsdale.”

  Kat tossed her purse under the bar counter. “I still can’t believe it.”

  Jessie walked over to Kat, propped one hip against the counter, and grinned. “At least you got to reconnect with Andrew.”

  “Yes, that was one positive out of the whole mess.” Kat hoped her pleasure over their reunion wasn’t too apparent. She had forgotten how quickly word traveled in a town as small as Cherry Hills, and Jessie’s Diner often served as the central hub for the area busybodies.

  Jessie looked around the dining area. “Everything’s under control out here. I’m going to help Lisa in the kitchen.”

  “Okay.” Kat slipped an apron over her head and regarded her boss, wondering how much of the local gossip reached her ears. “Before you leave, you don’t happen to know if Mrs. Tinsdale had any enemies, do you?”

  “She didn’t, as far as I could tell,” Jessie said. “But I didn’t know her all that well. She never ate here.”

  Kat nodded. She knew Mrs. Tinsdale had been on a fixed income and saved money by preparing all her meals at home. She’d mentioned once how she wished she could help her grown daughter out more but just couldn’t swing it while living off her paltry social security stipend.

  Jessie disappeared into the kitchen just as the bell hanging off the front door announced the arrival of a patron. Kat turned around to see Imogene Little breezing into the restaurant. The short, fifty-something woman was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and looked a bit mussed, as though she had put it up this morning and not bothered to redo it all day.

  Kat watched as Imogene settled into a booth near the wall. Imogene was not only one of the biggest gossips in Cherry Hills, but she also served as the president of Furry Friends Foster Families. Kat remembered Mrs. Tinsdale commenting on Imogene’s tireless passion when it came to fighting for animal rights.

  The question was, if Mrs. Tinsdale and Imogene had found themselves involved in an altercation, could the same passion that made Imogene such a powerful advocate for animals have also driven her to kill another woman? Kat wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to question the other woman.

  Gripping an order pad and a pen, Kat hurried over to Imogene’s table. “Good evening, Ms. Little. How are you today?”

  Imogene sagged against the back of the seat and rested one hand over her heart. “Why, Kat, I’m terribly heartbroken! I heard about Hilda. Such a marvelous woman! And how awful for you, finding her like that.”

  “It was awful, Ms. Little,” Kat concurred.

  “Please, call me Imogene,” she insisted, bending forward to grab Kat’s hand.

  “Okay, Imogene.” Kat wiggled her fingers out of the other woman’s grasp. Displays of affection made her uncomfortable. “Mrs. Tinsdale often mentioned you when she talked about 4F. She really respected your dedication to animals.”

  “Oh, that sentiment was mutual.” Imogene yanked a napkin out of the dispenser on the table and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I’m going to miss her terribly.”

  Kat took a deep breath, fortifying herself for her next question. “You don’t happen to know if she had a disagreement with somebody recently, do you?”

  “Oh, I can’t imagine anybody fighting with her—or taking her life, for that matter! Whoever did such a thing must be a complete psycho.”

  Kat regarded the older woman. With her flushed face and the way she kept wringing the napkin in her hands, she looked genuinely distraught over Mrs. Tinsdale’s fate.

  “Such a senseless tragedy,” Imogene went on, shaking her head. “Here in Cherry Hills you never expect something like this to happen.”

  “Mrs. Tinsdale didn’t have any enemies at 4F?” Kat asked.

  Imogene gasped, her right hand floating toward her chest as the napkin fluttered out of her grasp. “Heavens, no! Everybody in 4F gets along swimmingly. And we’re in the business of saving lives, not ending them.”

  Kat had figured as much, but she still wanted to question the other 4F members. If some bad blood had existed between one of them and Mrs. Tinsdale, maybe Kat could pick up something during her inquiries. “Other than you a
nd Mrs. Tinsdale, who else volunteered for 4F?” she asked.

  “Willow Wu and Greta Opheim,” Imogene said. “Fabulous women, both of them.”

  Kat jotted the information down on her order pad. Since this was the first time she’d heard their names before, she figured Willow and Greta must have moved to the area after she had fled town fifteen years ago. “What are their functions at 4F?” she asked.

  “Willow is our secretary. She takes our meeting minutes and documents any issues reported by the foster families. Keeping a file on each animal helps us to match them with the right home.”

  “What about Greta?” Kat asked.

  “Greta became our veterinary liaison this past spring. Given her local connections, she’s a gem to have on the board.”

  Kat tilted her head. “Local connections?”

  Imogene nodded. “Her husband is Dr. Harry Opheim. He owns and manages Cherry Hills Veterinary down on Culver Street. All the local vets give 4F a discount on their services, including Dr. Harry.”

  “He sounds like a great resource,” Kat commented, making a note of the veterinarian’s name and practice. Maybe he would have some information to share about Mrs. Tinsdale’s personal relationships as well.

  “Oh, he is. As the treasurer, Hilda dealt with him more than I did, but she always spoke highly of him.” Imogene’s shoulders sagged as though she were remembering Hilda Tinsdale’s tragic fate anew. “Now I suppose we’ll have to recruit somebody else to fill Hilda’s spot, although it’s really too soon for me to even think about replacing her.”

  Kat offered Imogene a sad smile. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “At least I didn’t find her.” Imogene shuddered. “That must have been a frightful sight.”

  Kat recalled the cold dread that had gripped her body when she’d crept into Mrs. Tinsdale’s unlocked apartment, unsure what she would find, and then the shock she’d felt upon spotting her neighbor dead on the bathroom floor. The memory sent an icy chill down her spine.

  Imogene squinted up at Kat. “Don’t tell me you suspect Willow and Greta of having something to do with such an atrocious crime.”

 

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