by Molly Fitz
Hoppy Holiday Homicide
Pet Whisperer P.I.
Molly Fitz
© 2019, Molly Fitz.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Editor: Jennifer Lopez (No, seriously!)
Cover & Graphics Designer: Cover Affairs
Proofreader: Tabitha Kocsis & Alice Shepherd
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Sweet Promise Press
PO Box 72
Brighton, MI 48116
Contents
About This Book
Author’s Note
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
What’s Next?
Sneak Peek: Retriever Ransom
What’s After That?
More from Blueberry Bay
More Mags!
More Molly!
About This Book
Nobody does the holidays like small-town Maine, and my particular small town just so happens to be the very best at decking the halls and rocking around the big Christmas tree downtown.
Yes, every year, Glendale puts on a Holiday Spectacular that’s grander and greater than the one that came before. Unfortunately, the only thing everyone’s going to remember this year is the two dead bodies that show up in the center of the ice sculpture garden.
With the whole town having come out to play, everyone’s in close proximity to the crime scene—and everyone’s a suspect. A great many fingers are pointed my way, too, since it was me and my cat that discovered the deathly duo. With only my whacky Nan, recently discovered cousin, overly optimistic Chihuahua, and snarky feline to help me, can I clear my name and save Christmas all in one perfectly executed investigation?
Hold on to your jingle bells, because it’s going to be a wild ride.
Author’s Note
Hey, new reader friend!
Welcome to the crazy inner workings of my brain. I hope you’ll find it a fun and exciting place to be.
If you love animals as much as I do, then I’m pretty sure you’re going to enjoy the journey ahead.
Hoppy Holiday Homicide is just one of my many brain-tickling adventures! Many more will be coming soon, so make sure you sign up for my newsletter or download my app to help you stay in the know. Doing so also unlocks adorable pictures of my own personal feline overlords, Schrödinger and Merlin the Magical Fluff, deleted scenes from my books, bonus giveaways, and other cool things that are just for my inner circle of readers.
You can download my free app here:
mollymysteries.com/app
Or sign up for my newsletter here:
mollymysteries.com/subscribe
If you’re ready to dive right in to more Pet Whisperer P.I., then you can even order the next books right now by clicking below:
Retriever Ransom
Lawless Litter
Legal Seagull
Scheming Sphynx
Deer Duplicity
Persian Penalty
Grizzly Grievance
And make sure you’ve also read the books that come before Hoppy Holiday Homicide in the series. They can be read in any order, but you’ll enjoy yourself more if you start at the beginning!
Kitty Confidential
Terrier Transgressions
Hairless Harassment
Dog-Eared Delinquent
The Cat Caper
Chihuahua Conspiracy
Raccoon Racketeer
Himalayan Hazard
Okay, ready to talk to some animals and solve some mysteries?
Let’s do this!
Molly Fitz
To anyone who wishes she could talk to her animal best friend…
Well, what’s stopping you?
Chapter One
Hi. I’m Angie Russo, and while you may not immediately recognize it, I’m probably one of the most unusual people you’ll ever meet.
Why?
Well, how many other people do you know who can communicate with animals? And, no, I’m not talking meows, woofs, and chirps. We have actual conversations, and we even solve crimes together—but I’m getting ahead of myself here.
Before I say any more—shhh!—my strange ability is a secret that must be protected at all costs. Not because I’m in danger or anything, just because I’d rather people not know.
Okay?
And, no, I’m not a witch, werewolf, or other kind of fictional supernatural creature. I’m just a normal girl in her late twenties who got electrocuted by an old coffee maker and woke up with the power to communicate with animals.
First, it was just the one cat, Octo-Cat as I call him. He was in the room when I got zapped. We were both there for a will reading, me as the lowly paralegal and him as the primary beneficiary.
When he realized I could understand him, he revealed that his late owner had been murdered even though everyone thought the rich old lady had died of natural causes. Turns out that wasn’t what had happened at all.
She’d been murdered, and now he needed me to help him prove it.
Well, we got justice for Ethel Fulton and eventually wound up living in her stately manor home. Since none of the relatives wanted Octo-Cat and I really, really wanted him, we ended up together, too.
We live with my eccentric grandmother, who’s known around these parts simply as Nan. A few months ago, we also adopted a rescue Chihuahua named Paisley. She’s the sugar to Octo-Cat’s spice, and the cute little thing can never say a bad word about anyone…
Well, except the naughty raccoon named Pringle who lives in our backyard. He used to live under the porch, but then he kind of blackmailed us into building him a custom treehouse—two treehouses, actually. Oh, boy, is that a long story.
Speaking of long stories, I’ve got several of those. Just you wait.
You see, a lot has changed in the months since Octo-Cat and I officially opened our P.I. business together. We haven’t had a single paying client yet, but we’re still getting tons of experience by accidentally stumbling into one mystery after the next.
Hey, whatever works. Right?
Oh, also, I’m in love with my boyfriend and former boss, Charles Longfellow, III—although I haven’t exactly told him that yet. Octo-Cat is also in a long-distance relationship with a former show cat and minor Instagram influencer named Grizabella. And he never stops telling her—or anyone who will listen—just how much he loves her. He’s even started giving me guff about how slow Charles and I are moving by comparison.
Then there’s the fact that we’ve discovered Nan i
sn’t actually biologically related to me or my mom, but we’re still working on digging up the full story there. Yes, this entire time, she hasn’t understood the reason we were shoved together, either.
On the positive side of that crazy bit of news, we have connected with long-lost family in Larkhaven, Georgia. I was supposed to visit them last month, but a murder derailed our travel plans just a bit. So, instead, my cousin Mags showed up here and is staying through the end of the month.
Mags is a hoot, and we all love her. She and I have so much in common and look so much alike that I sometimes wonder if we’re not actually twins instead of just cousins.
She’s a couple years older than me, though, and as far as I can tell, she’s completely normal. Her family owns a candle shop in her town’s historic district, and she’s promised to teach Nan and me how to make our own candles before she heads back home.
We have lots to do before that happens, though.
For one thing, it’s almost Christmas. Nan keeps all of us busy with the custom advent calendar she made at one of her community art classes, and today we’re also scheduled to head into town for the twelfth annual Holiday Spectacular!
The Holiday Spectacular is a time-honored tradition for our small town of Glendale. People come from all over Blueberry Bay to gather around the big tree downtown, compete in the ice sculpture competition, and celebrate Christmas with the staggering variety of small businesses downtown.
We get everything from hot cocoa stations to learning Christmas carols from around the world to meeting local authors and getting signed books from them to…
Well, each year is completely different, and that’s what makes it so much fun. I can’t wait to show Mags my hometown at its best. I hope she’ll love it every bit as much as I do.
Hey, look at that, it’s time to go find out!
I smacked my lips together after dragging my new cranberry red lip stain across them. Perfect for the holidays. Normally, I wore very little makeup, since my clothes made enough of a statement without any outside help. Lately, though, Nan had begun insisting I put a little more effort into my appearance. She claimed it was for all the holiday festivities, but I suspected she secretly hoped that my glamorous new efforts might rub off on my cousin, Mags.
It’s not that Mags was plain, but she did prefer a simple, non-fussy wardrobe. While working in her family’s candle shop in the historic district, she sometimes wore old-fashioned clothing with big skirts and a bonnet—and I suspected that was all the fuss she could handle. I didn’t blame her for wanting to keep it easy during her leisure time.
Mags’s signature knock sounded at my bedroom door—three short, one long, two short again.
“Come in!” I called, turning away from the mirror and toward the door.
Mags wore a white button-down shirt and white skirt with white flats. Her white-blonde hair fell midway down her waist, and her fair skin had not a stitch of makeup on it. She looked like a snow angel... or a ghost.
“Can I borrow an outfit from you today?” she asked with a frown. “I think I’m letting Nan down with my color choices.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about Nan. I let her down constantly. She still loves us both, though.”
“She offered to let me wear something from her wardrobe, but Angie—” Mags dropped her voice to a whisper and motioned for me to lean closer. “Everything’s hot pink!”
We broke apart in giggles.
“Seriously, though, please help a cousin out,” she begged, joining her hands in front of her and shaking them at me.
I skipped toward the closet, loving every minute of having my long-lost cousin here. I couldn’t believe we had little more than a week left together. I was going to miss her so much when she went back home.
“How’s this?” I asked, tossing a Santa-print party dress at her. It was the same one I’d worn when we took the pets to get their pictures done with Santa at the pet shop in Dewdrop Springs. While it was one of my favorites, I had tons of holiday wear that hadn’t made it out of the closet yet this year.
That was the thing about doing most of my shopping at Good Will: everything was so cheap and went toward a good cause, so I had zero issue indulging my addiction. Today I wore a pair of jeans with the ugliest Christmas sweater I owned—it had giant pom-poms stuck in a huge ring to form a three-dimensional Christmas wreath, complete with jingle bells and a giant satin ribbon.
It was wretched, and I adored it.
“This is perfect,” Mags said after a quick appraisal of the dress.
“Goes good with pigtails,” I said.
She turned crimson. “I think that’s perhaps a little too much for today.”
Octo-Cat trotted in with Paisley following close behind.
“Mommy, you look gorgeous!” the Chihuahua cried.
“One day that sweater will be mine,” my tabby swore. “You can’t tell me that’s not meant to be a cat toy. Look at all those mischievous floofs!”
Well, he had me there.
“Mommy, can I come, too?” Paisley asked, her tail wagging so fast that it was little more than a black blur.
“She can’t talk to us in front of Mags, genius,” Octo-Cat said, looking bored with the whole thing.
Mags smiled at me, probably wondering why I had suddenly stopped talking when the animals entered. Let’s just say it was incredibly hard to keep my secret from her, especially considering she was family. Still, the fewer people who knew, the better. And I didn’t know if she would even believe me. I didn’t want to send her screaming back to Georgia and ruin our relationship with the rest of the family before we even got the chance to meet them.
Just one more week to go. I could keep my secret for that long…
Um, right?
Chapter Two
Mags looked absolutely adorable wearing my Santa-print dress. She complemented the look with a fuzzy white beret and then asked for my help applying that new cranberry stain to her lips and a bit of blush to her cheeks.
“Selfie time!” she cried, maneuvering her phone to capture a photo of us from several angles.
“Wow, we really do look alike,” I said when she showed me the resulting pictures. Despite her fairer coloring, we both had the same brown eyes, perky nose, and heart-shaped face. She had the perfect poise of a supermodel while I had somehow managed to give myself a triple chin and the viewer a front-row view straight up my nostrils.
This right here was why I didn’t find myself addicted to social media the way so many others in my age bracket tended to be. I’d much rather be behind the camera than in front of it, but if given the choice, I’d go for no cameras at all. I could thank being raised by two newscasters for that.
“You’re way more photogenic than me,” I mumbled as Mags texted our selfie to a few family members back in Georgia. I hadn’t met any of them yet and wasn’t super thrilled with the awful photo being one of their first introductions to me.
“It comes with lots and lots of practice,” Mags revealed with a coy smile. Unlike me, she seemed much more comfortable interacting with people online as opposed to in person. “I’m on screen a lot for my candle-making videos, so I’ve learned my angles.”
“Girls!” Nan called from the bottom of the stairs that led to my bedroom tower. “Ready to paint the town red? And green?” She chuckled at her own joke as she moved down the grand staircase and into the foyer.
Mags looked to me for confirmation as she stuck her phone into her small handbag and pulled at the hem on her borrowed dress.
A huge smile crossed my face as I yelled, “Coming!”
Mags, the animals, and I pounded down the two flights of stairs to the foyer where Nan had relocated to bundle up in an eclectic assortment of bright pink winter wear.
Nan pulled out a tiny brown jacket and knelt to the ground. “Paisley, come here, you sweet dog!”
The Chihuahua ran, her whole back half wiggling with joy. “Yes, Nan. Coming, Nan. I love you, Nan.”
W
hile she called me “Mommy,” her greatest loyalty definitely lay with Nan. I’d asked her about that once, and she said that she couldn’t remember what it felt like to have a mother since she’d lost hers when she was still too young to remember. Since Nan insisted on being called Nan by everyone who knew her—and because she couldn’t communicate with Paisley the way I could—the little dog had taken to referring to me as Mommy.
She stood mostly still now as Nan worked her legs and head through the little brown jacket, which upon closer inspection was actually a reindeer costume. The hood had two tall, erect antlers that put Paisley off balance somewhat as she hopped away from Nan and attempted to prance about the house.
“Mags, you look lovely,” Nan said as she straightened back into a standing position. “And you’re well-matched to Paisley in that Santa dress, which is good because I’ll need you to keep an eye on her while we’re out.”
“Oh, are you not coming?”
Nan shrugged into her hot pink coat lined with black faux fur around the collar and cuffs. “Of course I’m coming. But I need both arms for hugging all my old friends who only journey home for the holidays. Paisley will have a much better time with you.”
I stepped forward and grabbed Octo-Cat’s neon green leash and harness from the back of our coat closet. He hated having to wear it, especially since he’d gotten better about being off leash during our outdoor adventures. Unfortunately for him, I’d be with Mags the whole time today, which meant I couldn’t use our ability to converse to keep him in line.
