THE CASE OF THE CAT CRAZY LADY

BUTTERCUP BEND MYSTERIES BOOK 1

DEBBIE DE LOUISE

CONTENTS

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

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

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Acknowledgments

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2017 Debbie De Louise

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Edited by Graham (Fading Street Services)

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

In memory of my beloved mother Florence whose cat crazy gene I inherited, my neighbor and friend, Pauline, who has moved away and was nothing like the character with the same name, and Floppy and Oliver, two of my special cats, who have gone to Rainbow Bridge.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I began writing this book in 2017. At that time, I had a Siamese cat named Oliver whom I’d adopted from my mother when she was admitted to a nursing home with dementia. Oliver was a senior cat. He’d been diagnosed with kidney disease two years before I started the book. Many of Oliver’s traits are included in the story, exhibited by Cathy’s cat of the same name.

We had to say goodbye to Oliver before I finished the first draft of The Case of the Cat Crazy Lady. There’s a scene in the book where Cathy reads a poem that the deputy sheriff wrote for his cat after she died. I wrote this poem after I lost Oliver.

The Buttercup Bend series isn’t the only book I’ve written that features a Siamese cat. The main pet character of my Cobble Cove series, Sneaky the Library Cat, is also loosely based on Oliver. Sneaky’s blog includes interviews with pet characters from other cozy mysteries.

I hope you enjoy this first book of my new series and will visit Cathy again in Buttercup Bend as she tries to solve the mystery in book two, The Case of the Parrot-Loving Professor, when it’s published.

CHAPTER ONE

Cathy slung her camera strap over her shoulder and tiptoed out of the house to avoid waking her grandmother and her cat Oliver who was still asleep on her bed. It was a lovely May morning in Buttercup Bend and the perfect time to catch the sunrise.

She stopped at the end of her block and gazed across the rooftops of the neighboring homes at the Catskill Mountains in the distance. Aiming her camera, she took a few shots of the pearly skies dipping into the mountain peaks.

Continuing her walk, she paused several times to take more pictures. The whole town seemed to be in bloom with neatly planted flowerbeds mixing with wildflowers in a profusion of colors that burst in vivid shades.

While Cathy considered photography a great hobby, she was also paid for the work commissioned by Pauline Harding, the editor of the Buttercup Bugle, the town newspaper. Last night, she had walked this same route on an assignment for a feature story about spring in Buttercup Bend. Her photos would accompany her reporter friend Nancy Meyers’ background about the town that had been founded a hundred years ago this coming Friday. Cathy wanted to have a selection of photos to choose from that were shot at dawn as well as twilight.

Turning the corner toward the newspaper office that was housed in a two-floor ranch, Cathy noticed something amiss. The cats that were usually gathered in various locations in the front yard of Pauline’s neighbor’s house were surrounding the front door. Some were crying, and a few were howling. Cathy assumed they were waiting to be fed by Maggie Broom, known as the town’s Cat Crazy Lady, since she’d arrived in town two years ago toting her van full of kitties.

As Cathy paused outside Maggie’s house, the door flew open, and Pauline, wearing a nightgown and a pair of slippers, ran out. Her dark eyes were wide, and the color of her face almost matched her white hair.

“Maggie’s dead. She’s been murdered. I just called Leroy on my cell. Her cats woke me up howling under my window, so I went over to let her know they were keeping me up. When she didn’t answer my knock, I opened the door that was unlocked and found her dead in her bed.”

A few seconds after Pauline’s shocking announcement, a police car roared down the block and stopped in front of them. Sheriff Leroy Miller rushed out, a disarrayed mass of red tendrils sticking up from his head like rusty spikes. The law enforcer’s half Irish, half African American heritage resulted in an interesting combination of features.

“I came as quickly as I could, Pauline.” Cathy caught the special look that passed between them. Everyone in Buttercup Bend knew that the newspaper editor was dating the sheriff. Miller glanced at Cathy, observing her camera. “Have you taken shots of the murder scene, Ms. Carter?”

Cathy, stunned and feeling a bit weak and dizzy, said, “No. I haven’t even seen the, uh, body, Sheriff. I was walking around town taking photos when Pauline came running out of Maggie’s house and told me what happened.”

“Taking photos might be a good idea,” Pauline said, some color returning to her face now that the sheriff had arrived.

“Let’s go inside then. My lazy deputy sheriff is still asleep. Otherwise, I would’ve asked him to come along and take pictures.” He was talking about Brian Fitzcullins, the young officer who’d used the services of Cathy and her brother’s pet rescue to adopt some of his pets.

As they entered Maggie’s house, the sheriff glanced around. “Hard to tell if anything has been disturbed,” he said as he gingerly avoided stepping on a long black tail and the heads of two tabbies that blocked his way. Cathy was surprised that the cats hadn’t hidden from strangers, but, like the ones outside, they might’ve been waiting for their breakfasts and hoping the newcomers would provide it.

“What a mess,” Pauline said walking next to the sheriff. “Something should’ve been done about all these cats, especially the ones outside that tear up my garden all the time.”

Gran had told Cathy of Pauline and Maggie’s ongoing dispute over Maggie’s outdoor cats. Cathy had even offered to catch them and bring them to Rainbow Rescues, but Maggie had refused the help and claimed they were her pets. No one could deny she took good care of them, even placing heated cat houses in her backyard in the winter.

They made their way carefully through the cluttered house that, besides felines of all shapes and sizes, also contained many cat toys and all types of cat items that Maggie collected. An unpleasant odor wafted from down the hall where Cathy assumed the litter boxes were kept.

When they finally arrived at the bedroom, Cathy prepared herself for the worst. At her parents’ wake, she’d found it hard to look into their caskets.

Her brother Doug had been at her side as she wept. The memory caused the dizziness to engulf her again.

“You okay?” Miller asked, noting her leaning against the door.

Cathy nodded. “I’ll be all right. I just …”

Pauline took her hand. “Don’t worry, honey. There’s no blood. She was smothered. I found the pillow on her face.”

“I hope you didn’t disturb anything.” The sheriff entered the room first.

“I removed the pillow, of course, and checked her pulse. I also had to chase off a bunch of cats that were on top of her. Who could’ve done this?” Pauline’s voice broke.

“A murder in Buttercup Bend. It’s hard to believe. Since I’ve been sheriff, the worst crime I’ve had to investigate was the theft of a bicycle that was stolen by a kid’s brother.”

Cathy and Pauline approached the bed. Cathy took some deep breaths, hoping they would calm her. But the sight of Maggie, ash blonde hair spread across her pillow, blue eyes open wide in fright, was more than she could take. As she’d done looking down at her mother lying against a pink satin pillow at the funeral home back on Long Island, Cathy collapsed.

CHAPTER TWO

Awakening in her bed with Oliver at her feet, Cathy thought she’d had a nightmare. But then she saw Gran sitting next to her in her long nightgown, her gray hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes, deep blue and alert, met Cathy’s. “How are you feeling, dear? You’ve had quite a shock. The sheriff and Pauline brought you home. They told me all about Maggie. I feel terrible. Such a horrible thing to happen in our town.”

Cathy had no recollection of having traveled in the police van, but she recalled that Pauline had found Maggie murdered. When she sat up, she still felt dizzy. “Does the sheriff have any suspects? Did he get the photos he wanted?”

“I think he called Brian over there to take them.” Florence glanced over at Cathy’s bureau where her camera lay. “As far as suspects, he’s questioning a few people. In fact, I promised him I’d come down to the station after I was sure you were okay. There’s no rush. We can eat breakfast first.”

Cathy was confused. “Why does he want to speak with you?”

Florence looked down at the quilted bedspread where the Siamese was still sleeping, but one blue eye had opened a slit as if he was listening to the conversation. “I was at BINGO last night and brought Maggie some tea afterwards because she had missed the game due to a headache. Do you remember that I came home and picked up some of that herbal tea I give you when you have migraines?”

“How did the sheriff know about that?”

Florence raised her head. “Pauline must’ve mentioned it when he asked her who had seen Maggie yesterday. I’m not mad at her. She was just filling him in.”

Pauline was known as the “gossip monger” of Buttercup Bend and that’s why, after she retired from teaching, she took the job as editor for the paper to keep abreast of all the goings on in the nightborhood. Cathy wondered who else she may have informed the sheriff about. Cathy had passed Maggie’s house late yesterday afternoon when she was taking photos, but the place had seemed dark, and she hadn’t noticed anything sinister.

“What else did Pauline tell the sheriff?” Cathy asked.

“I really don’t know, Catherine. They spoke privately. I was about to make some breakfast. Why don’t we eat outside? It’s a lovely day. We can let Oliver stroll a bit, and maybe Steve can join us when he comes.”

Cathy had lost track of time and had forgotten that the gardener was due that morning.

The sly twinkle in her grandmother’s eyes reminded her that Florence was an incorrigible matchmaker. Steve wasn’t the only man her grandmother was hoping Cathy would date. Every time the local vet, Dr. Michael Graham, came to the rescue center to check one of the pets or examine Oliver, Florence offered tips on how to flirt with him.

Although both men were strikingly different in appearance and personality, Cathy was equally attracted to them. However, having had a few short-lived romances in the past, she was wary to start a new relationship.

Cathy offered to help Florence make breakfast, but she refused. “You just sit on the patio and relax, Catherine. You’ve been through enough this morning.”

As her grandmother walked to the refrigerator to take out eggs, Cathy realized she was limping. Despite many days when she woke up with debilitating pain in her back, Florence still managed to keep up the household chores as well as assist some of the rescue center volunteers and help with the maintenance of the cemetery’s garden.

“I’m well enough to give you a hand, Gran. Your back seems to be bothering you this morning.”

Florence nodded as Oliver came to her side and rubbed against her, purring. She bent down gingerly to pet him. “I’m a little stiff and sore but not extremely so.”

Cathy knew her grandmother could be stubborn and was reluctant to accept help, so she insisted on at least bringing out the silverware, napkins, and orange juice. Oliver scooted behind her, happy to be in the fresh air.

Just as Cathy was about to make a second trip inside for the coffee, she heard whistling by the gate. Turning, she saw a tall blond head peeking over the top. Keys jangled, and the gate swung open. Steve ambled through, his face brightening when he saw her.

She waved and felt a smile widen her cheeks. “Good morning, Steve.”

The gardener approached. Cathy noticed how his tanned skin emphasized his well-formed upper body muscles through his white polo shirt. He wore khaki knee-length shorts, and his smile showed a soft dimple as his blue eyes regarded her with warmth.

“Mornin,’ Cat. How are you this lovely day that you match so purrfectly?”

She laughed at how he called her by her nickname and the way he said the last word. It masked her embarrassment at his compliment. She brushed a strand of her honey gold hair back, exposing the scar that was a reminder of the awful accident that had bruised her inside and out and left her and Doug orphans.

Although Steve seemed to like what she wore, she wished she’d dressed nicer than in an old pair of jeans and a lemon-yellow sweater turning brown after so many washes.

To bring the subject off her and to a matter of more importance, Cathy asked, “Did you hear what happened to Maggie Broom?”

Steve frowned. “No. What happened to her? I was at her house yesterday fertilizing her catnip garden.”

“Pauline found her dead when she went over her house this morning. I was taking photos on the block and was there when the sheriff arrived.”

“That’s terrible.” Steve bowed his head in respect.

“Yes. I couldn’t believe it when Pauline rushed out of the house. A murder in Buttercup Bend doesn’t seem possible.”

“Must’ve been a burglary. I know a lot of old people keep money hidden in their homes because they don’t trust banks. Ms. Broom was eccentric. I could see her stashing away cash inside one of her cat beds or even under a litter pan.”

“You might be right, Steve. I know Gran has spending money tucked away somewhere in our house, but I doubt it would be under Oliver’s litter box. I’m sure Sheriff Miller is investigating what happened to Maggie and who might be responsible.”

An uncomfortable silence hovered over them. Steve dug his hands into the pockets of his shorts and lowered his head as if examining something in the grass.

“I was hoping to catch you this morning when I came to water the grounds. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Sure. What’s up, Steve?”

He began to shuffle from foot to foot. With his eyes on the ground, he spoke so quietly a bird flying overhead almost drowned out his words.

“There’s a square dance Friday night, and I was wondering if … Would you want to go with me?”

When he lifted his head, Cathy noted the redness that bloomed underneath his tanned skin and knew it wasn’t sunburn. Had Gran put him up to this, or was he genuinely interested in taking me on a date?

Her heart beat fast. She wanted to go but accepting his invitation wasn’t easy. She hadn’t been on a date in a long time, and she was a terrible dancer. “Yes,” she said nearly choking on the word.

The sun chose that moment to flash its brightest rays, but the sudden luminescence was broken by a stray cloud and a deep voice calling Cathy’s name. She turned toward the gate and saw Sheriff Miller standing there, his uniform covered in cat hair, an angry expression on his dark, hound-dog face.

CHAPTER THREE

Cathy rushed to the gate to let in the sheriff.

“Good day, Miss Carter.” He dusted some of the cat hair off his uniform. “Is your grandmother home?”

“She’s in the house making breakfast.”

He glanced at Steve. “What’s he doing here?”

“He’s our gardener. Should I get Gran?”

“Yep.” Miller took a few steps toward the patio. “I’d like to talk to Mr. Jefferson, too.”

Steve turned around. “I’ll be happy to speak with you, Sheriff. What’s this about?”

“I don’t know if Miss Carter filled you in, but Maggie Broom was murdered last night. I have some questions for you and Florence.”

“I heard about the murder. Awful.” Steve grimaced.

“How did you hear about it?”

“I told him,” Cathy blurted out.

It was then that Florence stepped out onto the patio holding a plate of scrambled eggs in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other. She was fully dressed now if one could differentiate her long floral dress from her nightgown. “Good morning, Leroy.”

“Good day, Flo.” The sheriff tipped his hat at her. “I thought I’d save you the trouble of coming down to the station and pick you up myself, but since Mr. Jefferson is here, he can join us, too.”

She nodded as she placed the eggs and carafe down on the table. “Well, you’re just in time for breakfast. Why don’t we talk here? There’s plenty of food to go around.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I can’t question suspects together.”

“Suspects? What are you talking about?” Steve asked.

“You’ll find out when you come to the station.” Miller looked toward his police car that was parked outside the gate in back of Steve’s truck.

“We can at least have something to eat first,” Florence said.

“No time for that,” the sheriff insisted. “This shouldn’t take long. You can heat the food up later.”

“Very well. Let me grab my purse, and I’ll be right out.”

“Can I come along?” Cathy asked. She was curious about what the sheriff wanted with her grandmother and the gardener. Even if Florence brought Maggie tea last night, she didn’t think that would be cause enough to consider her a suspect in the murder, and she had no idea why Miller wanted to question Steve.

“You stay here, Catherine,” Florence said stepping back outside with her purse on her shoulder. “There might be a pet emergency, and one of us should be around.”

“I’m sure Doug and Becky can handle anything that arises,” Cathy said. Her brother and his wife lived right next door and closer to the rescue center than she and Florence.

Florence knit her gray eyebrows together. “You know your brother is a late sleeper, and Becky could have the baby any day now.”

“She’s not due until June,” Cathy pointed out but, by the look on her grandmother’s face, she knew she’d lost the battle. “Okay. I’ll stay but call me if you need me. I’ll keep my cell handy.”

“I’ll be back to work on the gardening,” Steve said. He and Florence walked with the sheriff to his car.

Worried about her grandmother, Cathy covered the eggs and brought them inside with the other breakfast items. Turning back to the door, she noticed Oliver was still on the patio. She joined him and took a seat on the wicker rocker to wait for Florence and Steve to return.

“Gran’s at the police station,” she said to the cat. “How can the sheriff possibly suspect her of murder? You know how gentle and kind she is, Ollie. I’m sure Steve is innocent, too.”

The only reply she received from the Siamese was a blink of his blue eyes.

When the police car finally pulled up, Cathy’s heart lurched as her grandmother emerged from it walking stiffly to the gate.

“Gran, is everything okay?” she asked running to her.

“It’s all fine, dear.”

“Where’s Steve?”

“He asked Leroy to drop him at another job. He didn’t want to miss his appointment. It’s within walking distance, so he’ll do the gardening here when he picks up his car afterwards.”

Cathy sighed with relief. “What did the sheriff ask you? How can he suspect you?”

Florence took a seat on the other porch rocker, and Oliver rubbed against her ankles, purring to welcome her home.

“I don’t think he seriously suspects me, but he had to question people who were with Maggie yesterday. Leroy wanted to know if the tea I brought Maggie after the BINGO game contained any sleep-inducing properties. I explained it was only meant to soothe her pain but might’ve relaxed her enough to make her drowsy.”

“What else did the sheriff say?” Cathy hated to interrogate her grandmother after what must’ve been an unpleasant experience, but she found herself curious to know the details of a crime that was so rare in the small town.

“He told me they placed Maggie’s time of death at about ten p.m. last night. After they brought you home, Leroy and Brian did a thorough search of her house. He said there were no prints because the killer probably wore gloves. However, they uncovered a sealed envelope filled with a few hundred dollars under one of Maggie’s litter boxes. A copy of the will was there, too. Leroy commented that was a strange place to hide an important document.”

Cathy thought of Steve. Was it a coincidence he knew Maggie’s hiding place? She pushed that thought aside. Steve had trouble killing insects in the garden. She couldn’t imagine him harming a person.

Gran continued. “Since none of the money was taken, Leroy doesn’t think the person who killed Maggie was a burglar.”

“What about the will?” Oliver padded over to Cathy for some show of affection, and she petted his dark head.

“That was sealed, too. It was labeled, ‘Copy of Margaret R. Broom’s Last Will and Testament.’ Leroy brought it down to the station as evidence. Norman Dexter, Maggie’s lawyer, has the original and will be handling the disposition of her property.”

“What is the sheriff doing about Ms. Broom’s cats? I wish we could take them at Rainbow Rescues, but there’s not enough room for all of them.”

“Brian was concerned about that. Luckily, there was a post-it attached to the will written in Maggie’s handwriting that said, ‘In case of my death, I have made arrangements for all my cats. Don’t bring them to any shelters until my will is read.”’

Cathy knew that Brian often brought strays he found on his patrol to Rainbow Rescues and a few of them he adopted himself. Many were identified by Dr. Graham as cats that simply escaped from their homes, but several were put up for adoption at the rescue center.

“Until Maggie’s provisions for her pets are disclosed, Brian is stopping by the house to feed them,” Florence explained. “In the meantime, Leroy mentioned that Maggie’s brother and sister were contacted and will be coming to town for the reading of the will.”

“Maggie has siblings?”

“She didn’t talk much about them because they’ve been estranged for a long time. She was the eldest of the family. Her sister Gladys lives on Long Island and is a sixty-eight-year-old retired secretary. Brody lives in Ulster County, only a few towns over from Buttercup Bend. He’s fifty-seven and been in trouble with the law since he left home at fifteen.”

Cathy tried to digest this information. “It sounds like Maggie’s brother was the black sheep of the family, but I wonder why she wasn’t close to her sister.”

“These things happen in families, Catherine. I’m so glad it hasn’t in ours.”

Cathy couldn’t imagine not being on speaking terms with a relative. She and her brother Doug had always been friends as well as brother and sister. Besides Florence, it was because of Doug that she was able to survive the loss of their parents.

“It’s getting a little chilly out here. Why don’t we go inside?” Florence suggested, scooping up Oliver.

Cathy followed her into the house. Just as she closed the door behind her, a familiar voice called, “Cathy, I’m back.” She turned to see Steve walking up toward the porch.

“You go speak to him,” Florence said. “I see you left out breakfast. Even though Leroy gave us donuts at the station, I can use something more nutritious. I’ll warm up the eggs and bring some out to you two, so you can eat while you talk.”

Cathy met Steve on the porch. She closed the door behind her so Oliver wouldn’t sneak out. “How did it go, Steve? Gran filled me in on some of what the sheriff told her about Maggie’s murder.”

“I think I’m clear, thanks. He questioned me because I fertilized Ms. Broom’s catnip garden yesterday, and we’d discussed some changes she wanted to make. That gossipy neighbor of hers told Miller that she heard me arguing with Ms. Broom. I may have raised my voice a bit, but it was because she wanted me to plant a butterfly garden that attracted birds. You know how crazy Ms. Broom was about her cats. Besides the indoor ones, some live outdoors, and I thought planting these types of gardens would be inhumane. The Sheriff saw that as a motive for me returning later and smothering her. Isn’t that crazy?” He strode over to the rocker Florence had occupied and plopped himself down. It seemed he needed to get the interrogation off his chest.

“Gran and I have known you since you started gardening the pet cemetery two years ago,” Cathy said. “We know you wouldn’t harm a fly. You even hesitate killing garden pests.” She took the chair next to him.

At Cathy’s words, Steve’s blue eyes lit up and a blush again spread across his suntanned cheeks. “Thank you, Cathy, but I’m sure the sheriff was just doing his job interviewing possible suspects. He pointed out that a pair of gardening gloves would make an excellent guard against fingerprints.”

“Obviously, he had no evidence to support that.”

“True, but he told me he’s keeping an eye on me.”

“Doesn’t he have any other suspects?”

“He wouldn’t say, but I gather there aren’t too many. Ms. Broom wasn’t particularly the friendliest person in Buttercup Bend, but I can’t see anyone wanting to kill her.”

Cathy considered the gardener’s words. “Maybe it’s someone who’s not from around here. I know the sheriff ruled out a burglar, but maybe one got cold feet after killing her and left without taking anything.”

Steve nodded. “Could be. Who knows? I should get back to work. I don’t want to give Miller any cause to think I’ve changed my routine.”

“Can’t you even stay to eat? Gran is heating up the food from breakfast.”

“That’s okay, Cat. I’ll grab something in between jobs. Let me give a quick once over to your garden and the cemetery. It looks like it’s in pretty good shape since I was last here.”

“Gran and I try to keep it up as much as we can. Even with her arthritis, she insists on doing some weeding and watering.”

Steve shook his head. “I know how stubborn Florence can be and how she feels bad that I charge her less than most of my clients, but I consider both of you friends and don’t mind at all doing you the favor of maintaining your property.”

The way he said “friends” and looked at her, Cathy felt warmth flood her body. She remembered his invitation to the dance and was happy she’d accepted.

As Steve left, Cathy recalled something. When she’d walked down Maggie’s block late yesterday afternoon, she’d heard two women arguing. One of them was Maggie. The other, who was complaining loudly about how some of Maggie’s outdoor cats were getting in her yard and destroying her flowerbeds, was Pauline, the same person who’d found her dead.

CHAPTER FOUR

Cathy decided not to say anything about Pauline to the sheriff. After all, the lady was Florence’s best friend. She’d been like a second grandmother to Cathy ever since she visited Florence when her parents were alive.

“You look like you’re contemplating something,” Florence said after Cathy went inside and told her Steve wasn’t staying to eat.

“I’m just thinking about what Steve told me the sheriff said. I wonder who will inherit Ms. Broom’s house and what provisions were made for the cats.”

“Maggie’s lawyer will take care of that. Now let’s forget about all this right now and have some food. I know it’s a sad thing, but life goes on, Catherine. Maggie wasn’t the friendliest person. She preferred cats over people, but she was a resident of this town. I’m sure Pastor Green will dedicate a service to her. Pauline will have the details. We’ll need to pay our respects.”

Cathy said, “You don’t think the funeral will be on Friday, do you?”

Florence raised a gray eyebrow. “I’m not sure. Why? Do you have plans that day?”

“Well, I, uh.”

Florence smiled knowingly. “Wait a minute. Friday is the square dance. Do you have a date? That would be lovely. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Cathy lowered her eyes, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. “It’s Steve. He just asked me this morning before the sheriff showed up.”

“At least some good has come out of this day. Wait until you tell your friend, Nancy. I’m sure she’s going to the dance, too.”

Unlike Cathy, Nancy never missed any of Buttercup Bend’s social activities. Not only because she was a reporter for the Buttercup Bugle but because most of the eligible men in town were smitten with her. She liked to play the field but never stuck with one guy long. Cathy believed that was because Nancy had been in love with someone in high school who broke her heart.

After Cathy and Florence finished eating, Cathy’s brother raced into the backyard on his Adidas sneakers. His baggy jeans rode low on his skinny hips as if he’d just pulled them on. He stopped in front of them and took a few deep breaths. His face was redder than the beets Florence grew in her garden. “Come quick, Gran, Cat. We have an emergency.”

“Douglas!” Florence said. “What’s the matter? Is Becky okay?” Becky was eight months pregnant with their first child.

“Becky’s fine, but she went into Rainbow Rescues this morning and found Hobo curled up in his cage not responding. He’s alive, but he seems sick. I called Dr. Graham. He’s on his way, but I think you should be there when he comes.”

“Of course.” Florence followed Douglas along the path that led to the rescue center. Cathy went along, too. She’d never had any veterinary training, but she’d watched Dr. Graham examine the cats at Rainbow Rescues and had picked up some tips from him by asking questions and observing his exams.

As they entered, Becky wobbled over to them. She wore her Rainbow Rescues apron stretched over her jeans and a short-sleeved tee. Florence contended that the tiny brunette was big enough to be carrying twins, but her doctor assured her that wasn’t the case. It was one big baby, so bets around Buttercup Bend were on a boy.

“Hi, Cathy, Florence. I asked Doug to come get you while we wait for the vet because I’m so worried about Hobo. He’s just lying in his cage. I tried to feed him, but he won’t even take food off my finger. He was fine yesterday. I don’t know what happened.”

Even though most of the pets that were brought to Rainbow Rescues were nameless, the staff gave them temporary names. Hobo was one of their oldest residents in the cat section of the center. Cathy found him five years ago when Rainbow Rescues first opened. He came crying to her grandmother’s door, a starving orange kitten with matted fur and big green eyes. She named him Hobo because he was dirty and seemed to have traveled from a distance. They went through the normal procedures to find his owner, placing his photo in the Buttercup Bugle and on telephone poles around town asking if anyone had lost him and including the phone number of the rescue center. When he wasn’t claimed, they made him an official resident of Rainbow Rescues.

The three other cats who were present when he arrived were all adopted within a few weeks after he came. Cathy tried to convince Florence to take Hobo, but her cat Floppy was receiving twice daily insulin injections for diabetes. Florence felt adding another cat to their household would be too much work. Cathy still regretted not taking Hobo after Floppy passed away, but she’d promised Oliver’s owner on her deathbed that her old cat would have a home with her and Florence. Then several other cats were admitted to Rainbow Rescues, and Cathy believed Hobo was adapting well. He became a favorite among Becky and the volunteers who cleaned the cages and changed the litter pans and food.

Her heart sinking, Cathy gazed into Hobo’s cage. He was rolled into an orange ball. His eyes were closed, but she thought he was awake. Two full dishes of uneaten wet and dry cat food lay next to him.

Florence said, “Poor thing. Did any of the other volunteers report a problem with him yesterday?”

“No,” Becky replied. “He’s usually active and playful at this time. Something is bothering him.”

Douglas stood by his wife. “Sometimes cats go off their feed for a short time. We may have panicked a bit.”

“It’s still a good idea you called Dr. Graham. Cats can hide illness a long time before exhibiting symptoms.”

Cathy knew her grandmother was right. Floppy had seemed fine until he started urinating outside his litter box, and some tests showed he had diabetes. She hoped Hobo was only having an off day.

When Dr. Graham arrived a short time later, Hobo was in the same position in his cage. Becky had wanted to take him out and cuddle him, but Florence had warned her that some cats get testy when they aren’t feeling well and prefer to be left alone.

Dr. Graham smiled as he entered. A tall man in his early thirties, he dressed like a country vet in jeans and a light blue polo shirt that accented his eyes that were just a shade darker. His square-shaped glasses rode low on his nose, and his wavy black hair was combed neatly behind his ears. He carried a black bag that accompanied him everywhere, even to social events. The bag contained his veterinary medical kit and first aid items.

“Good morning, folks. What seems to be the problem?”

Florence answered for the group. She addressed him by his first name which he preferred. “Hello, Michael. Thanks for coming. Hobo isn’t acting himself today. Can you look at him?”

“Of course. I’ll even be happy to give the other cats and Mr. Oliver a once over after I check Hobo.”

“Thank you.” Cathy watched nervously as Becky took a key from her pocket and unlocked Hobo’s cage. Dr. Graham reached in and gingerly removed the cat. Hobo didn’t fight him as Florence had feared but lay listless against his chest.

“Okay, boy. Let’s have a look at you.” Michael carried Hobo to a nearby table that he used when he examined the rescue center cats. He placed him down, reached into his medical bag, and took out his instruments. He looked in the cat’s ears, opened his mouth, checked his teeth and gums, and examined his eyes. Then he felt his stomach and lastly used his stethoscope to listen to his heart. All the while, Hobo kept quiet. Cathy, Becky, Florence, and Doug looked on expectantly until the vet was done. Michael turned to them with his diagnosis. “I don’t see anything wrong, but I should bring him to the animal hospital to run some blood tests and observe him. However, I think the findings will be the same.”

“What do you mean?” Becky asked. “If he isn’t ill, why is he acting this way?”

Michael smiled again, his thin moustache spreading under his nose. “Ever heard of depression? I’m aware this cat’s been here since you opened Rainbow Rescues. I also know the volunteers are great with him, but I think he’s starting to tire of living in a cage and wants a regular home.”

The vet’s diagnosis touched Cathy’s heart. She had a thought. “If you’re right, I have an idea of where he might find a good home.”

Florence sighed. “Oliver might not take too well to a younger cat in his territory.”

“And we can’t take him with our two dogs and a baby coming,” Douglas put in before Becky could make an offer.

“I think you’re wrong about Oliver not accepting a new cat in the house, Gran, but I wasn’t talking about our taking him or you and Becky, Doug. I was thinking of Nancy. It’s been two years since we buried her Popeye in Rainbow Gardens. I tried to persuade her to take Hobo at that time, but the loss was too recent. I was hoping someone visiting the rescue center would adopt him, but I’d be willing to ask Nancy again. I know she misses having a cat. Despite all her relationships, she seems lonely to me.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Michael said replacing his instruments in his medical bag. “I’ll do a quick check on the other cats, have a look at Oliver, and then I’ll bring Hobo to the hospital. He should be back tonight. I’ll have his results in a few days, so you can wait until then to speak to your friend.”

Cathy took Hobo from the vet, and she and Becky put him in a Rainbow Rescues carrier, so he could transport him easier when he was done with his other exams.

All the cats checked out including Oliver who got a clean bill of health for a fifteen-year-old cat.

“Even though he looks great, you know Oliver’s last bloodwork showed he’s in an early stage of chronic kidney disease. Very common among senior cats,” Michael said as Cathy walked him to his car. “We should run another set of blood tests next month. Are you watching his diet?”

“Yes. I’m feeding him that prescription food you recommended, but he doesn’t always eat it.”

“That’s all right. Just keep trying, but it’s better he eats than doesn’t. Lots of fresh drinking water is important, too.”

“We recently got him a fountain, and he seems to like to drink out of it. He finds the swirling water fascinating.”

The vet smiled, and his moustache quivered a bit. “You’re doing a great job, Cathy.” He lifted the cat carrier containing Hobo into the van’s back seat and secured it with a seatbelt.

Florence, Becky, and Doug waved to him as he got in the car. “See you all soon,” he called, “but not for any feline emergencies, I hope.”

As Michael drove away, Florence said, “It’s a strange thing, but seeing Michael’s vet van again, I could’ve sworn it was by Maggie’s house last night when I brought her tea. I know she’s had him there to examine some of her pets, but this was quite late. I wonder if Leroy has spoken to him, too.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The next day, Cathy and her family resumed their regular activities. Florence went grocery shopping. Becky greeted the rescue center volunteers and gave them their morning assignments. Doug went to his job at the post office, while Cathy returned home to the room designated as her office. She played the answering machine for any voice mail messages, saw none had been left while she was at Rainbow Rescues, and took a seat at the desk where she kept her business files and paperwork.

As she logged into her computer to check her email, she glanced to the two photos on the desk. One was a group photo of her, Doug, and their parents taken right before she left for college. Doug stood shoulder to shoulder with their father. They both shared the same slim build and dark hair. Her mother, next to Cathy, was the shortest of the group. Their tresses were both light, but Cathy’s honey gold was a shade lighter than her mother’s sandy blonde. Their hazel eyes were round and wide with thick lashes, and their smiles seemed shy but friendly.

Feeling sad, Cathy turned toward the other photo. It was taken five years ago when Cathy and Doug moved to Buttercup Bend. They stood on either side of Florence with their arms around her. Cathy didn’t miss the pain in Doug’s eyes that had dimmed but not vanished after he’d met Gran’s grown-up neighbor, Becky, and fell in love. Cathy knew that if she looked in the mirror today, she’d still see that lost look in her own eyes.

Focusing her attention at her computer, she brought up the spreadsheet for Rainbow Gardens and Rainbow Rescues. Cathy preferred not to think of her duties as a job but a labor of love because of the emotional attachments her clients had to their pets. Even though she was reasonably paid for the work, her main objective was to bring comfort to those grieving and to find homes for lost and abandoned cats and dogs. The cards of thanks that filled her desk drawer, many including photos of beloved pets, filled her heart with a joy that helped ease her painful memories.

Before opening the cemetery and rescue center, she’d worked a few years as a secretary, and her organizational, computer, and business skills came in handy for managing her business. Cathy also helped Nancy and Pauline at the newspaper by taking photos for their stories. She received her assignments on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was Tuesday, so after making sure all was in order, she took the three-block walk to the Buttercup Bugle. Cathy had a car that she shared with her grandmother, but she liked to walk when she could, especially on beautiful spring days that were common in Buttercup Bend at this time of year. Her grandmother had told the story of how the town was founded by a naturalist, Simon Butterman. Adopting a variation of his name and the most popular wildflower grown in the area, Buttercup Bend was born.

Spotting a robin red breast that had landed in a lilac bush that was in full bloom, Cathy sniffed the scent of the flowers that she loved. She aimed her camera at the bird and clicked the shot. It was almost impossible not to be sidetracked by nature as she followed the path to the newspaper office. She paused many times to take additional photos.

The Buttercup Bugle office was in an old, two-story building that was more of a house than an office. Pauline lived on the top floor. The bottom had been converted into the newspaper’s production space that included two PC’s, desks, phones, and lots of pens and notepads. Pauline preferred to do her reporting the old-fashioned way. Her stories were handwritten on yellow legal pads. Nancy, in charge of the features section, inputted her work and her boss’ directly into the computer. They both needed Cathy’s services because neither one had an eye for photography.

As Cathy walked up to the clapboard house that featured a wooden sign in the lawn that read, “The Buttercup Bugle,” she couldn’t help but glance to her right to the small, white ranch. A yellow crime-scene tape was strung across the fence where several cats gathered. She was almost tempted to go home and grab some cat food cans to feed the felines. She hoped Brian, who had already expressed his concern for the abandoned pets, was taking care of that.

Cathy had a key to the Bugle, but she always knocked before she entered. She knew this morning’s main story would include Ms. Broom’s murder and that Pauline and Nancy would have much to say about it that might not turn up in print.

Pauline answered the door. A number 2 pencil was stuck behind her ear. Its tip was barely visible through the thick mane of her white hair. She was furiously puffing a cigarette and still had on a robe over her knee-length nightgown.

“Nancy’s writing up the story about Maggie’s murder. The shots Brian took weren’t as good as yours, but they’ll suffice. We have to get it out today. It’s running on the front page. I also need the photos you took for the anniversary piece. I have to move that to an inside page.”

Cathy was horrified. “You’re actually running a photo of Maggie’s corpse on the front page? I thought those were only for the police investigation.”

“Shock value sells papers, Cathy, but Nancy is still trying to convince me to just feature a photo of Maggie when she was alive, maybe one of her with her kitties. Boring but doable, I suppose.”

“I’d vote for Nancy’s idea.” She placed her camera on the table. “The town photos are all on the current roll of film. I’ll use the darkroom to develop them.” Despite the availability of digital photos, Pauline insisted on old-fashioned film because she swore the prints were of better quality. For Cathy’s convenience, she’d added a darkroom in the back of the house.

“Good. Want some coffee? I’m putting some on for Leroy. He should be here soon. He promised me more details to add to the murder story. That’s the only reason I haven’t published it yet.”

“He was at my house yesterday and brought Gran and our gardener down to the station for questioning.”

“Leroy was here, too, but I was questioning him. The good it did me. He had practically no information, or else he wasn’t sharing. He promised he’d have more today.” Cathy knew it was likely the questioning Pauline referred to had taken place in bed. Even though the never-married friend of her grandmother tried to keep her affair secret, most of the town was aware Pauline was dating the widowed sheriff who, at fifty-five, was fifteen years her junior.

Cathy followed Pauline into the newspaper office where Nancy, her long strawberry blonde hair covering her face, sat behind a computer tapping the keys while she moved her eyes back and forth from a small notepad. When she noticed Cathy, she looked up from her work. “Oh, thank goodness, you’re here, Cat. I’m working on the story about the anniversary event and really need to see your photos, so I can think up some captions for them.” She stood up, sliding back her desk chair.

“I got here as soon as I could. There was an emergency at Rainbow Rescues yesterday. I’ll get my photos developed right away. Don’t worry about the captions. I’ll supply them.”

“What happened at Rainbow Rescues? Do we have another story? Pauline told me all about how you were there when she found Maggie’s body. That must have been scary.” Nancy’s blue eyes widened. Pauline just stood there puffing and pacing, her hands on her hips.

“Nothing that serious. It was Hobo. He wasn’t eating or acting his normal self. Becky called Dr. Graham, and he brought him to the animal hospital for some tests, but he thinks it’s just a case of depression.”

“I didn’t know cats could get depressed. What do they do for that?”

Cathy looked back at Nancy. For a moment, she thought this would be a good time to ask her if she’d consider adopting Hobo, but Pauline was there impatiently awaiting the sheriff.

“I’ll fill you in later. Let me go develop my photos.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll take a break now.”

Pauline said, “I’m sick of waiting. I’m going upstairs and calling Leroy to see what’s holding him up. You two can help yourselves to coffee in the kitchen. There are some donuts there, too. Just leave the Boston cream ones for Leroy.”

As Cathy was developing the photos, Nancy opened the door. “Mind if I join you?”

“No, but close the door. I’m still developing.”

Nancy walked over to the counter where a dozen photos lay in a developing tray. She watched as images began to form on them. “Wow! This is like magic, although digital prints are quicker and also amazing. When did you take these?”

“A few were taken yesterday morning before I arrived at Maggie’s house. The others were taken the night before, around eight p.m.”

“This one is interesting,” Nancy said, stopping in front of a shot front of Maggie’s house. She pointed at a car parked there. “Isn’t that Norman’s car?” she asked referring to the town lawyer.

Cathy nodded. “Looks like it. I know Maggie was a client of his. I wonder why he was visiting her so late. It was around 8 p.m. He probably didn’t stay long because she had a headache that night and didn’t attend the BINGO game.”

Nancy smiled. “Maybe his visit gave her a headache. I wonder if she was making a change on her will and that’s why she was killed two hours later.”

Cathy was puzzled. It seemed odd, but whatever business the lawyer was conducting, it was over by the time her grandmother arrived an hour later. “We could mention it to the sheriff, but I’m sure he won’t make much of it. What do you think of the other shots?”

“They’re great, Cathy. You certainly have an eye for taking photos. She picked up one of the rooftops against the Catskill Mountains as dawn peaked over the horizon and the other of the robin red breast in the lilac bush that Cathy had taken on her way to the newspaper office. “I think these will work. We don’t need many.”

Cathy was disappointed that some of her other photos weren’t chosen, but she smiled and said, “Thanks. I’ll jot down a few catchy captions for you.”

Pauline was sitting at her desk when they got back to the office. She was now dressed in a dark gray suit that brought out the streaks of gray in her white hair. She stared at her computer, a frown on her face.

“I spoke to Leroy. He hasn’t given me much more information. I finished the piece, but I’m not happy. Have a look, ladies.” She stood and walked away from the desk.

Cathy stared over Nancy’s shoulder as they read the story. She had to agree the details about Maggie’s murder were sketchy. The sheriff was quoted as saying, “While we don’t have any suspects at this time, the crime looks like a personal one against Ms. Broom, so Buttercup Bend residents need not fear that this killer will strike again.” The story ended with the date and time of the memorial service. It seemed Maggie’s family had opted for a simple and quick one-hour service on Saturday. There was no mention of the will reading, but Cathy figured that would take place before the burial.

“So, who do you think killed her?” Nancy asked when she had finished typing.

“The sheriff mentioned Maggie had a sister and brother she was estranged from, so I’m sure he’ll be following that lead. She wasn’t very popular here in town, but I don’t think any of the residents would want her dead. Between you and me, Nancy,” Cathy lowered her voice, “I heard Pauline bickering with her about her cats ruining her garden the day she was murdered, but we both know Pauline respected her neighbor.”

Nancy nodded. “You’re right. It just seems strange that, if one of her relatives killed her, why did they wait until now?”

“Good question. Do you happen to know when they’ll be in town? I’m wondering when the lawyer will be reading the will. They found some money in the house, but I don’t think Maggie had too much in the bank.”

“You’d be surprised,” Nancy said, raising a red eyebrow as if she knew something.

“Maggie’s brother and sister will be here on Thursday,” Pauline said joining them back at her desk. “I spoke to Norman after Leroy, and he told me he’ll be presenting them with the details of the will at that time.”

Norman Dexter, the man whose car Cathy had noticed near Maggie’s house, was the lawyer many Buttercup Bend residents used. His fees were reasonable. Although relatively new in town, having moved in a year ago, his practice had grown quickly. Cathy and Doug had even switched from a lawyer in the next town, and Norman now handled the legal matters connected with Rainbow Gardens and Rainbow Rescues.

“Do you know where they’ll be staying while they’re in town?” Cathy asked.

“Norman said they’ll be staying at the Buttercup Inn with Sandra,” Pauline said. “They have reservations for Thursday through Saturday.”

“Interesting,” Nancy said, “They’re coming in for the will and funeral and then getting out of town as soon as possible.”

“No reason for them to hang around,” Cathy mused.

Pauline changed the subject. “Are you all done with the anniversary story? I want to send both pieces to the printer this morning. Even though I’m not happy with the front-page piece, it’ll have to do.” While the Buttercup Bugle usually only came out once a week, special editions were published sooner for breaking news. This was one of those cases.

Cathy nodded. “Yes, all done. I guess I should go home and check if Gran needs anything. She should be back from shopping by now.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Nancy said. Cathy sensed she had something on her mind she wanted to share.

As they walked to the front porch, one of Ms. Broom’s cats, a striped tabby, came to greet them. His plaintive meows touched Cathy’s heart. He was obviously begging for food.

“I wonder when he was fed last,” Cathy said leaning down to pet the cat who was circling her ankles.

“Cats can go quite some time without food. As long as they have water, they do okay. I’m sure someone will come by to take care of them.”

“I was hoping Brian would do that. The sheriff isn’t too keen on cats.”

Nancy nodded. “Right. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Cathy paused in petting the cat who had simmered down and gone after a fly it had noticed buzzing around the porch steps. It was safe as long as it didn’t go in the backyard and start eating Pauline’s garden plants.

“I had a feeling you wanted to speak to me alone.”

Nancy glanced down at her feet and began to shuffle. Cathy recognized the behavior as avoidance.

“Spill it, Nancy. What’s going on?”

Looking back up at her with large blue eyes hooded by long dark lashes, her friend replied, “I know you’re a homebody, Cat, but there’s a square dance Friday night, and I was hoping you might want to go with me. I don’t have a date, and I hate to go alone. Square dancing isn’t really my thing, but I should at least cover it for the paper. It’s supposedly the key event of the anniversary festivities, and you could probably get some funny shots of the old people do-si-doing.” She grinned.

Cathy nearly laughed out loud. “You? No date? I find that hard to believe. Even I have a date.” She didn’t mean to let that slip.

The pupils of Nancy’s eyes widened. “With whom? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Steve just asked this morning.”

“Your gardener? That’s great. He’s a nice guy. You’ll have fun.”

“I’m sorry, Nance. I figured you would be going but that someone would’ve asked you already.”

“Not yet, and I’m getting nervous. I haven’t had a date in a month. Do you think I’ve exhausted all the eligible guys in Buttercup Bend?”

“Stop that. I know for a fact that plenty of guys would rush to date you. The problem is that they’re afraid someone else will beat them to it. Maybe you should ask someone for a change.”

Cathy saw Nancy consider that option as her shuffling slowed. “I think I will. I know just the guy. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I wish you luck.” As Cathy stepped off the porch, she turned around remembering something.

“Nancy, I wanted to mention something to you also.”

“Yes?” She had her friend’s full attention.

“Remember what I said about Hobo being depressed? Michael believes he really needs a home. It’s been a while since you lost Popeye. Would you consider taking Hobo? I think it would be good for both of you.” She held her breath while Nancy stood looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

“Cat, I … ”

“I know you might need some time to consider it. Michael decided to keep him one more day, and we’ll know his test results soon.”

“All right. Keep me posted. You know I think Hobo’s adorable. He’d make a fine pet. I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m willing to try.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know what the vet says, and good luck finding a date for Friday.”

Nancy smiled. “Talk to you later, Cat. I have to help Pauline get the presses rolling now.”

As Cathy headed home, she was pleased with herself. It looked like she’d found a home for Hobo with her best friend, but she wondered who Nancy was planning to ask to the square dance.

CHAPTER SIX

Cathy was busy the rest of the day and the next. Mrs. Larson’s parakeet, Tiki, and Ginger, the Forrest family’s eighteen-year-old red tabby, had passed away. Gran helped Cathy prepare the memorial services, and Steve was notified of the arrangements for the burials. He dug a small grave for the bird in the area of the cemetery reserved for smaller creatures. Ginger was laid to rest in the cat section on the hill where the sun seemed to shine the brightest and rainbows often appeared after spring showers.

Dr. Graham brought Hobo back to the rescue center. He’d received a clean bill of health, and Nancy arrived at Rainbow Rescues shortly after Cathy called her with the news on Thursday morning. She brought Popeye’s cat carrier with her. Trying unsuccessfully to hide the tears gathering in her eyes when Cathy placed Hobo in her arms, Nancy cried, “Hobo. It looks like you were meant to be my cat after all.”

Cathy couldn’t help crying herself, but she was also smiling. This was the happy ending she’d wanted for Hobo for so long, and it was just the thing her friend needed to recover from the loss of her beloved Popeye.

Cathy helped Nancy to the car. She loaded the blue ribboned box of cat food and litter samples Rainbow Rescues gave to adoptive cat parents in Nancy’s back seat. She placed Hobo’s carrier next to the packages. He sat quietly peering through his screen door with green eyes alight with what Cathy imagined was happiness. Nancy buckled the seat belt around the cat carrier, closed the back door, and walked to the driver’s side. Sitting behind the wheel, she said, “Thank you again, Cat. This means so much to me.”

“I know.” Cathy took a step back from the car as Nancy started it. She watched as they pulled away. Then she turned back to the house. Florence was in the door waving.

“Catherine, I just had a call from Sandra. Maggie’s siblings have arrived at the Buttercup Inn.”

Sandra Barry was the proprietor of the town’s only overnight establishment. Although around the sheriff’s age, she was another good friend of Florence’s.

Cathy recalled Maggie’s brother and sister were due in on Thursday for the reading of Maggie’s will. “I wonder what they’re like,” she mused, joining her grandmother who had stepped out onto the front porch.

“Well, why don’t we find out?” Florence said with a glint in her eye. “It’s a beautiful day for a walk to the inn.”

As they turned down Juniper Lane, the street on which the inn was located, Cathy couldn’t help noticing the people in neighboring houses standing by their fences or their cars. Some were outwardly gawking at the inn as if they were bystanders at a scene of an accident. Others pretended their interests were elsewhere.

The inn had a small back parking lot that was completely full. She wasn’t surprised to see Pauline’s Red Ford there or the sheriff’s cruiser. She assumed Nancy was there, too, either having walked or hitched a ride from Pauline. In addition, there were two unfamiliar cars parked next to one another – a battered old pickup and a sleek silver convertible.

“Quite a crowd has gathered,” Florence commented.

“They probably had the same idea as you, Gran. It isn’t every day that Buttercup Bend is host to a murder victim’s relatives.”

There was a flutter behind the yellow curtains, and then Sandra appeared in the doorway to greet them. She was dressed in her usual casual manner of a BoHo-patterned skirt that just topped her brown boots and a navy t-shirt with Buttercup Inn printed across it in gold letters. Her brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail. The roots were turning gray, and her famous inn breakfasts, despite how nutritious she made them, were beginning to show on her hips.

“Good morning, Florence. Cathy. I was just serving breakfast to our new guests, and Pauline and Leroy. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Sandra. We already ate, but we could use a cup of tea if you don’t mind.”

Cathy didn’t feel like tea, but she followed her grandmother into the inn’s cozy breakfast nook where four guests were seated at a round table by the window. Cathy noted that Nancy wasn’t there, and figured Pauline had decided she could handle all the reporting, or Nancy could come by later when things had settled down a bit.

Sandra led them to a smaller table next to the others. Good mornings were exchanged by those familiar with one another and then Sandra introduced Gladys and Brody Broom to Cathy and her grandmother. Cathy’s first impression of the brother and sister who sat across from one another wasn’t pleasant. She calculated that Gladys tipped the scales at three-hundred pounds. Her short, dark curly hair was dyed black, and she wore white leggings under a colorful geometric top that called attention to her weight problem in an unflattering manner. Her younger brother, in contrast, reminded her of Doug. He was so thin that his baggy pants were barely supported by their suspenders. His sparse hair was an ugly shade of salt and pepper that was more salt than pepper. His goatee was completely gray.

“Nice to meet you,” Gran said, shaking their hands. “Sorry it has to be under these circumstances.”

Gladys huffed out a reply that sounded like, “no big deal.” Brody, after limply shaking Florence’s hand, waved his skinny arms. “It was a darn shock. We ain’t been in touch with Maggie in years.”

Cathy didn’t bother shaking their hands but tried to smile as she nodded her “hello.” She felt uncomfortable with these strangers, neither of whom appeared friendly.

The Brooms didn’t speak much at breakfast, although Pauline tried her best to engage them in conversation. She spoke about their sister in almost reverent terms despite the fact they never got along. Cathy could barely eat the delicious, freshly baked bran muffins Sandra had prepared.

When the topic turned to the reading of Maggie’s will later that day, the siblings became animated. The sheriff was the one who brought up the subject. “Are either of you curious as to what your sister meant that her cats would be provided for? Officer Fitzcullins has been feeding them which I personally feel is a mistake because he can’t take another pet into his home.”

Brian had adopted several of the animals at Rainbow Rescues. He had a dog, two cats, and a bunny squeezed into his tiny bachelor apartment.

“I hope she didn’t mean to give any of them to us,” Gladys said after munching into a muffin and swallowing a large piece. “I’m retired and can barely afford my own food let alone that of feral felines.”

Cathy felt a need to correct her. “Your sister’s cats aren’t ferals. Even the outdoor ones were well cared for by her.”

“That’s true,” Pauline said. “It’s only too bad she let them roam all over my garden.”

“Maggie always had a soft spot for them kitties,” Brody added. “It bothered her when I was ten and stepped on her tabby’s tail. It were an accident, but she screamed at me. She even threatened to tell Mom about my pot stash. Not that she would care with her head in the bottle half o’ the time. Don’t mean to speak ill o’ the dead. Ma died a few years later of serious of the liver, or whatever it’s called, and Pa a year later of the same thing. Maggie left home after that and took her kitties with her.” He gave a gap-toothed smile.

Leroy, hearing this, glared at Brody. “I hope you’re not still using drugs.”

Brody’s smile faded. “Nope. I’m clean, man. I swear.”

From his insistence on his innocence, Cathy doubted the statement was true. What little appetite she had dissipated completely at the thought of one of the Broom siblings inheriting their sister’s clowder of cats.

A few minutes later, the sheriff checked his watch. “Thanks for the refreshments, Ms. Barry, but it’s time I escort Mr. and Ms. Broom to Mr. Dexter’s office for the reading of the will.”

“May I come along?” Pauline asked. “I have a question for Norman regarding a small legal matter. I can pick up my car later when you bring the Brooms back to the inn.”

“I’m afraid that will have to wait, Pauline. Norman requested that I bring only the Brooms and Ms. Carter along to his office.”

“Why is Catherine going?” Florence asked. Cathy was as surprised as her grandmother that the lawyer wanted to see her.

“I have no idea,” Leroy replied. “But he made a point that she be present at the will reading.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Leroy dropped the Brooms back at the inn after the will was read, Cathy told him she’d get out there, too, and walk the few blocks home. After what she learned, she needed some fresh air to clear her head and prepare to discuss the will’s terms with her grandmother.

As she turned down her block, Cathy ran into Becky walking her German shepherds, Max and Millie. The dogs were brother and sister rescues that Becky and Doug adopted as puppies five years ago when Rainbow Rescues opened. Cathy found it amazing how petite and very pregnant Becky could handle the pair, but Doug had trained the dogs well. They walked on either side of her without pulling their leashes.

“Hi, Becky. Would you like me to give you a hand with the dogs?” Cathy offered. Max and Millie weighed about eighty pounds each and, although gentle, they were still a handful for a pregnant woman.

Becky shook her head. “No, thank you, Cathy. I’m fine. It’s a lovely day, and I can use the exercise. It’s good for the baby.” She patted her stomach, gave the dogs’ leashes another tug, and smiled at her as she continued down the path.

“Okay, but please stop by the house later when Doug comes home. I need to speak with both of you about something important.” Becky wasn’t aware that she and Florence had gone to the inn to meet the Brooms that morning or that Cathy had been requested at the reading of Maggie’s will.

“Sure. I’ll let Doug know.” Becky gave her a curious look as she walked away.

Even though Becky had a grandmother who lived in Florida, she considered Florence her grandmother, too. Like Doug, her parents had died young, not in a car accident but from heart disease and cancer. Her mother’s breast cancer was caught too late, so Becky made sure to have regular mammograms. After Lois Rivers died three years ago, Becky’s father went on a drinking and smoking binge. He had a fatal heart attack a year later at the age of forty-seven. Only Doug’s friendship since he and Cathy moved to town had pulled her from a deep depression. They married last year as their relationship blossomed into love and moved into Becky’s house next door to Gran’s. When Doug lost his own parents and moved with Cathy into Florence’s house, Becky and her family was by his side to comfort him and was a great help when he opened the pet rescue center and cemetery with his sister.

As soon as Florence opened the door, Cathy’s cell phone started ringing.

She looked at the display. “It’s Nancy, Gran. I’ll call her back.”

“No need to do that. I was about to make some tea. We can talk after you’re done speaking with your friend.” She walked down the hall to give Cathy privacy.

Cathy answered her cell. “Hi, Nance. What’s up?”

“I thought I’d catch you at home, Cat. Pauline called me and said you were asked to the will reading. She was mad that Leroy refused to bring her. I’m sure she’s going to call you or stop by to find out what happened, but I thought I’d check with you first. What was in Maggie’s will, and why did Mr. Dexter want you at the reading?”

Cathy wanted to confide in her friend, but she knew she should talk to her grandmother first. “I can’t say right now, Nance. How is Hobo?” She thought changing the subject would help soften the blow of withholding the knowledge that she knew Nancy was dying to know.

“He’s great. It’s like he’s lived with me forever.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. Can I call you back later?”

Nancy paused. “I don’t like the way you’re avoiding telling me about the will, but I have some news of my own. I finally have a date for the square dance.”

“Wonderful!” Cathy was relieved that her friend had found someone to go with since she had turned her down because of her date with Steve.

“It’s Michael. We got to talking when I called him to let him know I’d adopted Hobo. I mentioned the square dance, and he told me he wanted to go and that maybe we could go together.”

“Nancy, that’s perfect. I’m so happy for you.” Cathy wondered why her friend didn’t sound more excited. She discovered why when Nancy said, “I know I should be thrilled. He’s so handsome, and he’s a vet, but I don’t know how to act around him. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

Cathy had never known Nancy to fear the impression she made on men. “Don’t be silly, Nance. Just be yourself. You have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” She began to choke on her words, and Cathy realized she was beginning to cry.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”

“You know all those guys I’ve dated? Most of them were wild about me, but I let them go. I broke their hearts. It wasn’t right, but I didn’t care about any of them. Maybe I was too picky. Maybe I should’ve settled.”

“What are you saying?” A picture was beginning to form in Cathy’s mind. She recalled the times Nancy came by Rainbow Rescues when Michael was examining the pets. She’d make an excuse to leave or slip out and disappear when no one was watching. “You have a crush on Michael, don’t you?”

Cathy knew she’d hit the nail on the head when her friend didn’t answer.

“Oh, Nance. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Michael is a very eligible young man. Gran has been trying to hook me up with him for ages.”

That wasn’t quite the thing to say. Nancy’s voice broke again. “Oh, no. I hope she isn’t angry with me. Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Nancy Ann Meyers. Gran is just as happy that I’m going with Steve as she would be if I went with Michael.”

“Are you sure about that? Steve is a nice guy, but he doesn’t make much as a gardener.”

“It’s not about the money. I’m not sure how I feel about either of them, but if you’re attracted to Michael, then go for it. I won’t stand in your way.”

Nancy paused again and then replied, “Thanks, Cathy. Now I know why you’re my best friend.”

After exchanging a few more words, they said goodbye. Cathy promised Nancy she’d call her back and tell her all the details of the will as soon as she could. As she ended the call, Florence came back into the room. She was smiling.

“You heard that, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged, but you did a good thing, Catherine. I’m proud of you. Now before Pauline calls, come have some tea, and you can tell me what happened at Norman’s office that you couldn’t share with Nancy yet.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Florence asked Cathy to sit with her in the parlor. Cathy was still trying to figure out the best way to break the news to her grandmother. When they were seated on the couch and Gran had brought the tea, Cathy said, “Did you know that Maggie subscribed to a lot of cat and celebrity gossip magazines? You pick up a few of those at the grocery store yourself, but she ordered them all through Publisher’s Clearinghouse.”

“What does that have to do with Maggie’s will?”

“She won. That’s what. Maggie won the Publisher’s Clearinghouse contest.”

“That’s crazy, Catherine. If she’d won a contest, we would all know about it. Pauline would’ve been the first to spread the news.”

“Maggie kept this to herself. The only one who knew was Mr. Dexter. She made him promise to keep it a secret.”

“How much are we talking here, Catherine, and what did she leave her sister and brother?”

“The Publisher’s Clearinghouse award, after taxes, was a million dollars. Maggie left her brother $5,000. He already said he’s planning to contest the will. Gladys will receive $10,000 and isn’t happy about her share either. Maggie’s house and the remainder of the money that was in her hidden bank account was bequeathed to Rainbow Gardens and Rainbow Rescues with the provision it must be used for the care of her cats. That’s why I was asked to attend the will reading.”

“Gosh!” Florence exclaimed. “That money can be used for the expansion plans you’ve been discussing that will provide more space for Maggie’s cats and other pets, but I had no idea she would put you and Doug’s business in her will. She was never particularly friendly with any of us.”

Cathy recalled how, when Maggie moved in two years ago, Florence had tried to befriend her thinking they had a lot in common with their love of animals. However, Maggie seemed to prefer her own company and that of her cats. She rarely attended any of the town’s social activities except occasionally playing BINGO.

“I know, Gran, but she was devoted to her cats. She wanted to be sure that if anything happened to her, there would be room for them at Rainbow Rescues and enough money to provide for their care. I saw Becky earlier and asked her to visit later with Doug, so we can break this news to them. I wanted to tell you first.”

“What a story,” Florence said, and Cathy knew that Pauline would be eager to write about it once she heard.

“Mr. Dexter said Maggie was living like a pauper on that cash she stashed under the litter box. Every so often, she’d go to the bank and withdraw more from a different account that she used for living expenses. She never touched her windfall.”

“What about Maggie’s house? I assume it would need to be put up for sale once the cats are moved out.”

“That can’t happen immediately because the murder investigation is still ongoing. The sheriff’s agreed that Brian and I can go into the house, check the cats, and feed them for the time being. If any of them seem ill, we can also ask Michael to look in on them. Also, the Brooms can’t leave town until matters are settled, so they’ll be staying longer at the inn.”

“Does that mean Leroy suspects one of Maggie’s siblings?”

“As Sheriff Miller said, he believes it was directed at Maggie. For all we know, her sister or brother could have killed her. They may have somehow found out about her money but thought it would be split between them or one of them might be favored.”

“I doubt Gladys or Brody would know about their sister’s winnings,” Florence said. “They hadn’t spoken in years.”

“We don’t really know that.”

“It still doesn’t explain why now. When did Maggie win the money?”

“Right before she moved to Buttercup Bend two years ago. Maybe she moved here thinking she could hide her wealth in a small town when we both know secrets are even harder to keep in a place like this. However, it seems she and Norman did a pretty good job avoiding village gossip. Maggie certainly thought of everything. If either of her siblings murdered her for her money, they were in for a cruel surprise.”

Florence agreed.

“They certainly were. I guess I should call Nancy back now. Pauline is probably pestering her for the story. I’m surprised she hasn’t called us yet. They’ll both be as shocked as I was when I break the news to them.”

“No doubt about that.”

As Cathy took out her cell phone, Oliver padded into the room on his sable paws and let out a loud, “Meooow” as he looked up at the two women.

“Looks like Oliver found the news surprising, too. Either that or he wants to eat.”

Cathy laughed. “Probably both. Can you feed him, Gran? I’d like to call Nancy before Pauline comes knocking at our door.”

“Good idea, Catherine. Don’t forget your tea. I’ll bring mine upstairs. After I feed Oliver, I want to get back to crocheting that baby blanket I’m making Becky. I’m not halfway done with it, and by the looks of her, she may give birth before I’ve finished it.”

Cathy knew her grandmother found relief from stress or confusion through her needlework. She had a feeling the news about Maggie’s will had upset her. Although their pet business would soon have the money for growth, it was a sad fact that it would happen as the result of a murder.

“Come, Oliver. I’ve got some kibble waiting for you in the kitchen,” Florence said picking up one of the tea cups and carrying it as the cat followed her out of the room.

Cathy couldn’t wait to see what Nancy had to say about the happenings. Besides being the second biggest gossip in town besides Pauline, her best friend was a regular patron of the Buttercup Bend Library where she borrowed a large number of mysteries each month. Using some techniques she learned through fictional sleuths such as Miss Marple and, of course, her namesake Nancy Drew, Nancy liked to solve mysteries. Most of her cases so far had been locating missing items. She’d helped Doug find one of his missing socks one day and located Bella, one of the cats who had disappeared from Rainbow Rescues on the day of her adoption. In both cases, she’d ferreted out clues and made observations that weren’t as obvious to those searching. Cathy could only imagine what Nancy was planning to do to solve Maggie Broom’s murder. Maybe she could help her. She also liked a good mystery, although she’d never expected to encounter a real-life murder in Buttercup Bend.

CHAPTER NINE

As Cathy was about to call Nancy, her cell phone rang again. She thought it was her friend calling back. But when she saw the name on the display, she knew it was Pauline.

“Miss Carter, when were you planning to call me? Nancy said she tried to contact you, but you put her off. What are you hiding?”

Cathy didn’t like her tone, accusation, or the fact that she called her by her last name when they’d been on a first-name basis for years.

“Calm down, Pauline. I had to speak to Gran first. I was about to call Nancy back, but I might as well fill you in since you’re so impatient.”

Cathy expected Pauline to argue with that, but she replied in a less aggressive voice and apologized for her behavior. “Sorry, Cathy, but I need the facts. People are talking, and I have to print the story. I couldn’t believe Norman wouldn’t let me into the will reading and when I called him, he even refused an interview for the paper. I swear you’d think he’d be familiar with freedom of the press.”

“Don’t be angry with Mr. Dexter. He’s just doing his job. He has to protect his clients.”

“I know it’s his job to keep legal matters personal, but my job is to report the news, so please tell me what happened. What did the will say, and why were you asked to go with the Brooms instead of me?”

Cathy proceeded to tell Pauline all about Maggie’s winnings in the Publisher’s Clearinghouse contest and the distribution of her estate including the house and her cats to Rainbow Rescues. She also told her that the sheriff had instructed Gladys and Brody to stay in town until their sister’s murder investigation was complete.

Pauline was quiet a moment and then said, “That’s incredible. That phony lawyer and my weird neighbor hid all this from me. But now the whole town will know. I’m not thrilled to have the Brooms staying here in Buttercup Bend, but I’m glad at least you and your brother will get money to invest in your business. I’m sure Florence is happy about that, too. She spoke to me recently about some ideas you had about opening another rescue center to accommodate more strays. That’ll keep them off the streets and stop them from destroying people’s gardens.”

Cathy ignored Pauline’s last remark which obviously was about her ongoing battle with Maggie. “I’ll be speaking with Doug about putting the money toward the new rescue center, but we can’t make any official plans until Mr. Dexter releases it to us. In the meantime, the sheriff has allowed me and Brian to check on Maggie’s cats until the house is cleared and put up for sale.”

“That’s fine, but do me a favor. Make sure those cats stay out of my garden.”

After Cathy hung up on Pauline, she went upstairs to look in on her grandmother. Florence sat in a rocker by the fireplace in her bedroom, gently swaying as she moved the crochet needle through a multicolored skein of yarn to create a granny square. A bunch of similarly colored squares lay on the floor. Some were already sewn together.

“How many more squares do you need to make, Gran?” she asked.

“The pattern I’m using calls for forty-two squares, Catherine. I’m afraid I’ve only done ten. I need to stop watching Netflix or crochet while viewing.” She glanced at the small TV on her bureau. “I’m just not as good at multitasking as you young people are.”

Cathy laughed. “Gran, you’re doing fine. Becky isn’t due until the middle of June.”

“Your mom was a month early and you and Doug arrived two weeks before you were scheduled. I have a feeling Becky will have that baby before the end of May.”

“I wonder how she’ll be able to manage her duties at Rainbow Rescues while caring for the baby.”

“I’m sure the volunteers will help, and you can give her a hand, too – with the baby as well as the cats.”

Cathy knew her grandmother was growing impatient with her single status and was hoping for another great grandchild from her.

“I’m not that good with babies, Gran.”

Florence put down her crocheting. “You’ll learn, just like your mom and I did. It’ll be great practice for when you have your own one of these days.”

“Gran, please. I’m not even engaged yet.”

“That’s because you’re too shy to notice the guys who are interested in you. You should take some lessons from Nancy. No, forget that. Even though she knows how to get dates, she’s just as afraid of commitment as you are.”

“That’s not true.” Cathy almost blurted out what Nancy had told her earlier about her feelings for the vet.

“Well, I hope the two of you get your acts together and snag two of the eligible Buttercup Bend men before you turn thirty. I married at eighteen and, let me tell you, it was easier raising kids when I was a young woman than it would’ve been when I began to have arthritis and other aches and pains.”

“Gran, things are different today. People have careers. I’ve been thinking of going back to college. I stopped when Mom and Dad died, and Doug and I opened the pet cemetery and rescue center. Maybe that was a mistake.”

“Maybe it was, Catherine. There are some fine men attending colleges in this area.”

Cathy sighed. “There you go again, trying to hook me up with somebody. What if I don’t want to get married? I have friends here, and my work with the animals is rewarding. I may not need a man or kids to complete my life.”

Florence paused. After a moment of gazing down at the granny squares at her feet, she said, “If that’s how you feel, Catherine, then I won’t pressure you. I just don’t want you to have any regrets. Time goes quickly, and there are no do overs. I hope you enjoy your date with Steve on Friday. He’s a nice man and even if all you become are better friends, I’ll be glad because that’s all I want for you, my dear. Happiness.”

Cathy went over to her grandmother, bent down, and hugged her. “I know, Gran, and you’re right that I should be getting out there more. Thank you for the advice. It means a lot to me.” She paused and then added, “I just finished speaking with Pauline about the will. She’s writing a story about it now, and I think I should go over there to make sure she covers it properly.”

“Why am I not surprised? Even though she’s a good friend, I don’t always condone the way Pauline spreads news – or should I say “gossip” in this town. I know it’s important that she reports about the will, and I’m glad you’ll help her get the facts straight.” She smiled as Cathy let her go. “So, scoot now, dear, and let me get back to my crocheting. Doug and Becky are coming by later, but I’ll fill them in on everything. It’s not like Rainbow Rescues is getting any money right away, but you and Doug might want to meet with your accountant to start planning for the future.”

CHAPTER TEN

The Buttercup Bend’s Social took place on the third Friday of each month, but May’s dance was special because it was the town’s anniversary event. The dances were held on the wide lawn behind the Rectory. In inclement weather and during winter, they were moved inside the church’s basement. Pastor Herb Green and his wife Lorraine organized the events. Each month, they featured a different type of dance. Florence always insisted that Cathy go, but she spent most of the time watching the dancers unless Becky gave up Doug or Nancy’s date gave her a turn. This month, Doug was home with Becky who wasn’t up to dancing, and Cathy had her own date. Steve had arrived punctually at seven with a pink corsage that matched the blushing rose of her dress.

“How thoughtful of you, Steve,” she said, taking the flower he handed her. She noticed it wasn’t the traditional carnation but a peony.

“It’s fresh from my garden,” he explained. “I made it for you.”

“How handy you are, Steve,” Florence said. “Catherine, let me help you pin it on.”

When the peony was in place, the three of them walked to the dance. It was a beautiful spring night. The days had started to grow longer, so dusk had only settled in recently. The church was three blocks away, and the streets were well lit. Even had the old-fashioned lamps that Buttercup Bend prided themselves on been off, the quarter moon riding in the sky provided enough moonlight for them to see their way.

“Have you ever square danced, Cat?” Steve asked her when they were within sight of the white steepled building where most Buttercup Bend residents attended services on Sunday.

“No. Have you?”

“Never, but I’ve seen people do it on TV and in the movies.”

“Don’t worry,” Florence told them. “Pastor Green will provide instructions. He’s very good at getting everyone on the dance floor or the dance grass, you might say. I’m sure everyone will have a delightful time.”

Pauline and Leroy were already there when they arrived. So was Brian, looking a bit out of place in his street clothes of gray Dockers and a red and navy plaid shirt. Leroy had opted to wear his uniform.

Lorraine Green was flitting around in a western-style skirt and frilled tan vest over a white blouse. She liked to dress the part for each event.

“Can I give you a hand, Lorraine?” Florence asked as she watched the pastor’s wife set up a table with lemonade and punch carafes along with small bowls of chips, pretzels, and nuts. From past socials, Cathy knew that the wine coolers and beer were on ice in the barrel next to the table.

“Hello, Flo. Thanks for offering, but I have everything in hand. You just make yourself comfortable. Herb is preparing the square dance music. He’ll be out very soon.”

There were a few patio tables with umbrellas arranged in a circle, but Cathy remained standing between Steve and her grandmother who had turned to chat with Pauline. Leroy and Brian were also talking. The tea-lights strung across the area illuminated their faces.

“Why don’t we have a seat?” Steve asked. “The guests aren’t all here yet. Would you like a drink or a snack? I’d be happy to get you something.”

Cathy smiled. “No, thanks. I’m fine, but we can sit if you’d like.” It felt odd for her to be here with someone instead of her usual solo excursions to the dances. She wondered when Nancy would show up with Michael. It was common for her friend to make a last-minute entrance, and it was still early.

As more people started to show up, the pastor came outside along with a few of the town’s teenagers who helped him with the sound equipment. They arranged and tested a standing microphone and the stereo and speakers.

Nancy and Michael arrived as Pastor Green stepped up to the mike. Nancy wore a long western skirt similar to Lorraine’s that was cinched around her tiny waist with a wide brown loop belt that matched the color of her rhinestone-studded boots. Michael complimented the outfit in his gaucho pants and plaid shirt. Cathy was surprised the conservative vet had dressed up for the occasion and felt even more conspicuous in her prom-like dress.

“Howdy,” Nancy said, sliding in next to Cathy. “This is going to be so much fun.” She nodded toward Steve to include him in her greeting. Michael shook Steve’s hand as he sat next to him across from the girls. At that moment, Pastor Green cleared his throat and opened the social.

“Welcome, fellow Buttercup Bend residents, visitors, and parish members. For those who don’t know me, I’m Pastor Herb Green and that pretty lady pouring the lemonade at the table is my wife, Lorraine. Tonight, we have a treat for you for the May social and the town’s first anniversary event. I’ve been practicing some online lessons in square dance calling. But before we begin, I’d like to take a minute to share with you some interesting facts about the history of square dance.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and whispered to Cathy, “Uh, oh. Here comes a lecture. If we’re lucky, we may get a few minutes to dance.”

Cathy laughed at her friend’s joke that eased some of her anxiety even though it was partially true. The pastor, ever the preacher, had taken the opportunity to prepare a mini sermon on square and folk dancing.

“Historians disagree on how square and folk dancing started,” the pastor began. “But not to bore you with too much detail, I’m going to begin my explanation with mid-seventeenth century English country dances, the steps of which were written for the first time in 1650 by London bookseller John Playford. This manual of 104 dances was called The English Dancing Master. It became a bestseller in England and included a variety of dances from circle dances to couple dances, and longways dances for four couples. Several square dances evolved from the shortened longways dances.”

Nancy stared blankly ahead and tapped her boots on the ground. “I can’t stand it,” she whispered to Cathy. “I don’t care about the history of square dancing. I just want to dance.”

The pastor, as if hearing her, cleared his throat and said, “To save time and get right to our program, I will give a brief summary of how square dancing came to the U.S.”

“Oh, please do,” Nancy murmured.

“In 1848 when gold was discovered in the West,” Green continued, “settlers arrived bringing new dances and music with them. One such dance was the Cotillion that was done in square formation. This dance was called by a fiddler who would shout out a series of directions that he created on the spot. This type of calling was known as prompt calls and accompanied music from jigs to those by composers such as Stephen Foster. As this type of dance became popular, it was performed at all functions and events across the country.” He paused. “If you’d like to know more, I can recommend books that are available at the Buttercup Bend Library. For now, let’s begin our dance.”

“Finally!” Nancy said so loud Cathy was sure the pastor and the rest of the audience heard her. She noticed that during the pastor’s presentation, several other guests had arrived including Norman Dexter and his wife, Joan. They weren’t dressed in western wear but in casual jeans. Norman wore a long-sleeved blue and white striped shirt. Joan wore a red blouse with yellow stars. Together, they looked patriotic, but she noticed Joan’s face was slightly red, and she wasn’t smiling. Norman also seemed on edge, and she wondered if the couple had been arguing. It was rumored around town that things weren’t quite right between them. Pauline had mentioned to Cathy, after the couple moved in, that Norman had a roving eye.

As one of the teens assisted the pastor starting the music, Nancy whispered to Cathy, “Do you have your phone with you? I know you wouldn’t want to carry your camera around, but there’s going to be some great photo ops that you can add to our Instagram account.”

Cathy took her phone from her purse. “Yes. I knew you’d want those. I’ll also post a few to Facebook and Twitter. Maybe you can also use some for an article.” Cathy was in charge of Buttercup Bend’s Instagram and social media accounts.

Nancy took out her own phone from her straw tote. “I’ll be taking photos, too. We should get a selfie of us together in these outfits or ask our dates to take them.”

Because Cathy didn’t feel her dress was appropriate for the square dance, she declined but agreed to a close-up selfie with Nancy.

“Are you gals going to spend all your time with your phones instead of dancing?” Steve asked as the tune for “Comin’ Round the Mountain,” began to play, and the pastor invited couples to take the dance floor. He then began to shout out the square dance calls improvising some of the words. His wife stood by his side using hand signals and occasionally verbal cues to explain the instructions he issued.

As the couples, most of who were new to square dancing, tried to follow the steps, there were lots of chuckles, whistling, and confusion. A few people knocked into one another with no injuries, and others found it hard to keep up. Nancy, one of those laughing the loudest, reminded Cathy to get some photos of the missteps as she aimed her phone at the dancers. When Michael grabbed Nancy around the waist, almost knocking down her phone, she put it away and joined him dancing.

After the first few minutes, Cathy began to master the dances and enjoy herself. She and Steve switched partners with Nancy and Michael and some of the other couples as the dancing progressed. Nancy also seemed to be having a good time and kept her phone in her purse at the table with Cathy’s.

The only thing that put a damper on Cathy’s experience was seeing her grandmother sitting alone. A few other people without dates also stood around looking like lost sheep. One of them was Brian pretending to preside over the event while the sheriff and Pauline stole the show with some fancy routines that looked rehearsed. Cathy also noticed a lone man about Florence’s age who sat only a table away from her. With a full head of gray hair and a bushy mustache, he wore jeans and a silver shirt studded with sequins that was open at the neck to reveal a few tufts of gray hair. Cathy hadn’t seen him around town before.

“What are you looking at, Cat?” Steve asked as he pulled her close following another of the pastor’s calls.

“You see that man near Gran? It’s too bad they can’t partner up for the dance.”

But just as she mentioned her thought, the mustachioed man stood and walked toward Florence. Cathy watched as he said a few words to her grandmother, offered his hand, and the two joined the couples on the dance floor as the first set paused before the second started.

“Looks like you got your wish,” Steve said.

Cathy smiled. It was about time her grandmother met someone nice and had fun.

After several more numbers, Pastor Green called for a break. The music was switched off, and he announced, “Let’s stop for fifteen minutes, so you all can mingle. My wife will be putting out the delicious desserts that she baked.”

As the dancers returned to their seats, Lorraine and a few of her female teenage helpers carried pies to the table and set them down next to the drinks. Cathy sniffed the aroma of apples, blueberries, and cherries. It was as though Lorraine had just taken them from the oven.

“Those smell so good,” Nancy said, mimicking Cathy’s thoughts. “Shall we go up and get some?”

Cathy’s stomach gave her the answer. She joined her friend in the queue of guests already in line. Florence and her new acquaintance stood in front of them. They looked like they’d known one another for ages as they chatted. When they noticed Cathy and Nancy, who had left their dates at the table promising to bring them back slices of the pies they requested, they turned around. Florence said, “Catherine, I don’t believe you’ve met Mr. Howard Hunt. He doesn’t live in Buttercup Bend, but he saw the pastor’s notice in one of the local papers and decided to join the party. I’m so glad he did.” She smiled as she looked back at her new friend. “Howard, this is my granddaughter, Catherine. The pretty girl with her is her friend, Nancy Meyers, who works at the Buttercup Bugle newspaper.”

Howard offered his hand to Cathy and then to Nancy. “Nice to meet you ladies and your grandmother, of course.” His gray eyes twinkled as he smiled, causing his moustache to crawl up his lip.

As the four of them settled back at their table with their pie slices, a loud voice caused them all to turn to the entrance gate. Standing there was Brody Broom waving a gun and swaggering into the crowd. “Where is Norman Dexter?” he demanded.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Brian, who was unofficially stationed by the front of the dance, began to walk forward as Leroy came from the opposite side by the rectory. They converged slowly toward Brody. Norman, who had just been served a slice of apple pie with whipped cream on it, nearly dropped his plate along with his jaw. Brody spotted him and changed directions. “I see you, ya creep. How dare ya steal my money. Five grand is measly compared to what my sister won in the sweepstakes. I don’t mind some of that goin’ to the rescue place, but I should have a good part of it.”

Seeing the man’s glazed, beady eyes, Cathy thought he was high. Steve edged closer to her as if to offer protection.

Leroy and Brian were only a few feet away from the armed man. Brian hadn’t brought his gun to the party, but Leroy withdrew his. “Drop your weapon,” he demanded.

Norman stood frozen by the pie table. His wife, who had been next to him, retreated to the church. Cathy thought she wasn’t confident of her husband’s protection.

Brody turned around and pointed the gun at Leroy. “Stay outta this, Sheriff. I won’t drop my weapon, and I challenge ya to shoot me before I hit you. I doubt you’ve ever pulled a trigger. I’m a hunter and a marksman. I can put a bullet between yer eyes in a second flat.”

The hush after the festive music was like the silence following the final horn blast of a parade band. Not wanting to break the spell, Cathy’s lungs ached from holding her breath. For naught. She couldn't help gasping when Brian, his Stetson nearly toppling from his head, sprang catlike in his western boots and rammed into Brody. The gun fell to the grass. Leroy retrieved it and, while Brian controlled the man, cuffed Brody's hands behind his back. Brody was making such a fuss that Brian had to scream the Miranda warning. Leroy apologized to the partygoers for the disruption, and the two men escorted the struggling Brody to the squad car. As they ducked Brody into the back seat he shouted, “I want more money. Dexter won’t hear da last o’ me.”

When the officers had driven away, Pauline came over to Cathy’s table. “That man is crazy,” she said. “He’s obviously high on drugs. I wouldn’t put it past him if he murdered Maggie.”

Michael disagreed. “I know there’s no excuse for his actions tonight, but the man just lost his sister.”

“There was no love lost between him and Maggie,” Nancy said. “You heard what he said about wanting more money. He’ll use it to buy drugs.”

“He’ll be in jail now,” Steve said. Cathy could see the front page of the Buttercup Bugle that Pauline and Nancy would write tomorrow. Following the story about Maggie’s will, it would cause more conjectures about her murder among the town’s residents.

Even though the evening went downhill after that with the pastor appealing to all to pray for the sick man and to be sure to attend services that Sunday, Cathy had enjoyed herself with Steve and hoped they would see one another in the future.

Walking home, Steve made sure to bring Cathy and her grandmother up to their door. Nancy and Michael had parted from them in the direction of Nancy’s house. Howard, walking to his car, had promised Florence he’d call her during the week, so Cathy knew he’d asked for her phone number. Pauline got a ride home from the pastor after Norman told her he would’ve given her a lift, but his wife wasn’t feeling well, and he wanted to get her home as soon as possible. Cathy saw Joan Dexter jump into the passenger seat next to her husband after Herb drove away with Pauline. She wondered if the confrontation between Norman and Brody had caused her sudden illness.

Florence invited Steve in for some tea, but he declined saying he had an early morning landscaping job. Cathy felt disappointed. She sat with her grandmother in the kitchen after Steve said goodnight to them. Oliver came padding from his sleeping spot to ask for a midnight feeding even though it was only ten o’clock.

Cathy opened a can of prescription kidney food, but when he sniffed and walked away, she put out Fancy Feast chicken in gravy on a small paper plate. Then she went back to the table where her grandmother had placed two mugs of herbal tea. “What a night, Catherine.”

“It was nice until Brody Broom ruined it. Do you think he killed his sister?”

Florence blew her tea to cool it and took a short sip. “No. He’s a disturbed man, but he’s not a killer.”

“But he had a gun. He was planning to shoot Mr. Dexter.”

“I doubt that, and remember, Maggie was smothered. If he really was the killer, do you honestly think he’d show up in a public place and make a scene while the sheriff still considered him a suspect?”

“You’ve got a point, Gran, but I know people on drugs do strange things.”

Florence took another sip of tea. “Yes, but those actions are usually unmeditated. The person who killed Maggie planned it very well.”

Cathy still wasn’t convinced, but her grandmother changed the subject. “What about Steve? How did your date go?”

Cathy took a swig of tea. She realized she needed a bit of soothing. “I thought it went okay, but we didn’t get much time to talk. We danced a lot, but we changed partners, too.”

“Seems like you two need some alone time but going out in a group is nice at first. Maybe next time you can go to a movie with Nancy and Michael.” She smiled, her gray eyes shining with wisdom. Cathy suddenly realized they were close in shade to Howard’s.

“I like that idea. It probably would be less stressful. What about you and your mystery man?”

Florence laughed out loud. “Howard was quite the gentleman, and I enjoyed our evening, but I doubt he will call me. He doesn’t live far, but he’s just getting over the death of his wife.”

“You need to think positive, like you always tell me. Did you get his number, too? Maybe you should call him.”

“Perhaps that’s appropriate for people today, Catherine, but I’m old-fashioned and believe the man should make all the moves if he’s interested. I didn’t ask for his number.”

“Well, I hope you hear from him.” Cathy drank her tea. When she finished, she said, “I’m going to bed. I’m sure Pauline and Nancy will have a special edition paper out tomorrow, and they may need me to send them some of the photos I took at the dance, although I already posted a few to our social media accounts. I only wish I’d had my phone handy when Brody arrived with that gun. I’m sure Pauline would’ve make an exception to her desire for camera photos. I also have to check on Maggie’s cats tomorrow.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

On Saturdays, Cathy liked to sleep a little later than her regular wake-up time. Although she and Florence always rose early, they alternated on weekends who fed the animals in the rescue center. This weekend was Florence’s turn. Considering Becky’s condition and the fact that Doug could sleep through a hurricane, someone had to be there when the cats demanded their breakfasts between four and five a.m. Even Oliver woke at that hour emitting plaintive meows. Cathy was glad her grandmother fed him before she went to Rainbow Rescues.

Cathy closed her eyes again after she heard Florence pulling open the flip-top lid of a cat food can and pouring kibble and fresh water into Oliver’s bowls. As she was drifting back asleep after hearing the front door close, her cell phone rang. She could’ve screamed. Who was calling so early?

“Hello,” she answered groggily. Expecting an advertiser or automated political call, she was prepared to hang up. Instead, Nancy’s voice came across the line.

“Cathy, you have to get over here.”

She sat up in bed. “What’s wrong, Nancy? Where are you?”

“I’m at Pauline’s place. Get dressed and get over here.”

Memory from the previous night returned as Cathy tried to clear her head. “Why the hurry, and so early? Do you and Pauline need me for the photos about what happened at the square dance? I texted over what I had, and you can check the others on Instagram and Facebook. I’m sorry I didn’t get any of Brody brandishing the gun.”

“No!” Nancy’s voice was rising. “We already wrote that story. We’ve been up all night. Thank God for strong coffee. Brody’s out of jail, but I need to talk to you about something else.”

“What do you mean Brody’s out of jail? He tried to kill Mr. Dexter last night.”

“He was only threatening him. Pauline filled me in after she spoke to Leroy. It seems when Brody’s gun was confiscated, it was empty.”

“Empty? You mean there were no bullets in it?”

“Cat, are you still asleep? Yes, he hadn’t loaded it. He didn’t mean to shoot Norman, just scare him. The gun was also registered.”

Cathy tried to absorb this information, but her head was still cloudy. “But wouldn’t he be held on assault charges?”

“Yes, but he called his girlfriend, and she bailed him out.”

“Brody has a girlfriend?”

“It was a surprise to me, too, when Pauline told me. Leroy described her as tall and thin with long red hair.”

“Hmmm. What about Mr. Dexter? Is he safe?”

“The sheriff doesn’t think Brody will pull anything again. Just in case, he’s having some of his officers keep an eye on him at the inn. Some are also attending the private funeral they’re having for Maggie this afternoon.”

Cathy’s brain was finally clearing. “Private funeral? You mean none of the townspeople can attend?”

“Nope. Gladys and Brody requested family only, so it’s only the two of them and Pastor Green.”

“I’ll have to let Gran know. I think she wanted to go. So, what’s so urgent that you need to see me so early?”

“Get over here and you’ll find out.”

Cathy hated the way Nancy liked to keep her in suspense, but it helped get her moving. She showered and dressed in record time and gave Oliver a pat on his head before leaving the house. He was asleep again on her bed after Florence had sated his appetite and would likely be there until suppertime. Cathy found that a bit annoying considering she was now wide awake.

On the way out, Cathy ran into Florence who was on her way back from the rescue center. “Morning, Gran. I’m glad you’re back. I forgot to write you a note. I’m going to Pauline’s house. Nancy just called and asked me to come right over. She also told me that the Brooms are having a private service for Maggie’s funeral. Brody’s out of jail, so it’ll just be him and his sister.”

“I guess I can understand that under the circumstances. But why was Brody released?”

“It seems his gun wasn’t loaded, and he had a license for it. But Nancy said that even though he was going to be held on other charges, he was bailed out by his girlfriend.”

Florence rolled her eyes. “That man is trouble. I bet the girlfriend is a piece of work, too.”

Cathy almost laughed at her grandmother’s expression. “I’ll fill you in later, Gran. You can use the car this morning if you want to go shopping or somewhere else. It’s another nice day, so I’m walking to Pauline’s.”

As Florence headed back to the house, Cathy turned toward Lily Lane. It was in the opposite direction from where she’d walked with Steve and her grandmother the night before to the square dance. It seemed like ages ago, and she wondered if Steve would ask her for another date. She wasn’t sure how their first one had gone. She also wondered about Nancy and Michael. They looked great together, but was Michael living up to Nancy’s expectations? She knew that a fantasy could easily be broken by reality.

As she approached Pauline’s house, she had another thought. What would happen if Howard Hunt called her grandmother? What if they fell in love and got married? Would he be happy with a twenty-six-year-old granddaughter living with them, or would she finally have to find a place of her own? She pushed the thought away. As Florence would say, she was putting the cart before the horse.

Before she even got to Pauline’s door, it swung open. Nancy ran out. “Thank goodness you’re here. I’m glad you didn’t bring Florence. I should’ve told you not to.”

“Why? What are you being so secretive about?”

Nancy looked down. Cathy noticed how tired she looked. Her hair was unbrushed, and her eyes had dark circles under them. “Come in. We need to talk.”

She followed her friend into her employer’s house.

“Pauline’s at the station with Leroy,” Nancy explained before Cathy could ask.

“Are they talking about Brody?”

“I think so, among other things.” She rolled her eyes to indicate that Pauline was paying Leroy a social visit as well as a business one. “Sit down.”

Cathy was hesitant to take the chair by the computer while Nancy stood pacing by the desk. “Why don’t you sit, Nance? You look exhausted.”

“I am, but I can’t rest yet. After we talk, I may go home and take a long nap next to Hobo.”

“You should do that. What do you want to tell me?”

Nancy finally took Cathy’s advice and plopped herself down in the swivel office chair. Cathy’s heart began to beat fast. What was this leading up to?

Nancy lowered her gaze again to the desk and the draft copy of the Buttercup Bugle that featured a photo of Brody being handcuffed and taken away by Brian and Leroy. Cathy assumed Nancy had managed to take it while her eyes were glued on the scene.

“Pauline said that the money from the will can’t be given to the beneficiaries until Maggie’s murder is solved or the sheriff is satisfied that the investigation is complete. Leroy thinks Brody is the prime suspect but has to find a way to prove it.”

Cathy asked, “Why does the sheriff suspect Brody? Is it just because he threatened Maggie’s lawyer at the square dance?”

“That’s part of the reason. When someone’s addicted to drugs, they’re capable of anything. We don’t know if Maggie contacted Brody and told him what she was putting in her will.”

“That’s crazy, Nancy. They haven’t been in touch in years and, if that were so, how come Brody was so shocked by the news?”

“Anyone can put on a good act.”

“True, but you still haven’t told me why you summoned me here so early.” Cathy stifled a yawn.

“Sorry about that, but I came up with an idea and wanted to run it by you privately.” Nancy’s blue eyes shone. Her pupils widened. “I have a plan. It’s time we institute my mystery-solving sleuthing skills to find out who killed Maggie Broom.”

This was no surprise to Cathy, as she’d already seen it coming. “Nance, you’ve only solved two cases before, and they weren’t crimes. You need to leave the detecting up to the Sheriff and his officers.”

“Why? It’s so much fun.” She laughed. “I won’t be going it alone. I need a partner, and I recruit you. You’re a natural. You know how to talk to people, and you have an eye for reading them, too.”

Cathy had also seen this coming and while she’d considered it herself, she didn’t want to give in to her friend so easily. “Stop buttering me up. We both know how shy I am.”

“This will help you break out of your shell, Miss Carter.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“For starters, we need to interview the suspects.”

“There are only two suspects – Gladys and Brody.”

“That’s not true. There are several suspects.” She swung her blonde hair back. In the early sunlight, it gleamed like a beam of sunshine.

Although Cathy had a sinking suspicion she already knew, she asked, “Who are the others?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Pauline’s a suspect, too. She had an argument with Maggie the day she was killed.”

“Pauline always argued with Maggie. That doesn’t make her a suspect. For Pete’s sake, she’s your boss, Nancy.”

“We have to consider everyone. Even your grandmother’s a suspect, and don’t forget Steve. They were both with Gladys the day she died.”

“The sheriff ruled them out, and I’m surprised you’d seriously consider Steve and Gran.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Miller’s a little biased where it comes to Pauline, and he’s always had a soft touch for Florence. As for Steve, the sheriff’s always saying what a good job he does keeping up his dead wife’s flower garden.”

When Cathy had no reply to that, Nancy continued. “So, you see, we can’t rule anyone out. First, we have to plan our investigation. I’ll make up a complete list of suspects. We can split the interviews. I think it’s easier for you to interview your grandmother and Steve, and I’ll interview Pauline and Gladys. I think we should go together to interview Brody. If there’s anyone else added to the list as we investigate, we can determine who interviews them.”

“I’m not sure I want to be involved in this. Pauline and Leroy will be upset if they know what you’re planning.”

“They don’t need to know.”

“How can you hide it from them?”

“I’m a reporter, remember? My job is to ask questions. This can be done on the qt.”

“You watch too much crime TV and read too many who-dun-its. This is real life, Nancy.”

“You enjoy those books and shows, too. Just think about it. If we catch this killer, we’ll be the town’s heroes or, in our case, the heroines.”

Cathy knew her friend was determined to investigate with or without her. Even though she’d had the idea earlier, she still didn’t want to admit that to Nancy. “Okay. I’m in, but if we find out anything that incriminates anyone, we bring the information to the sheriff immediately. We don’t take any unnecessary risks. Understood?”

Nancy smiled a Cheshire-cat grin. “Understood.”

Why did Cathy imagine her friend had her fingers crossed behind her back?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nancy told Cathy she was going home to Hobo and to catch up on rest. She promised her that she would call her later, so they could discuss their investigation further.

Cathy, still feeling unsure about her friend’s plan but also a bit excited about the prospect of investigating a murder, walked home. She found her grandmother sitting in the living room holding her corsage from the dance.

“What are you doing with that, Gran?”

“I was wondering if you’d like me to preserve it and place it in a picture frame. I think it would be pretty and a nice memory of your date.”

Cathy wasn’t sure she wanted to remember the date. Steve was nice and a good dancer, but he’d acted odd when he’d seen her off as if he really hadn’t enjoyed himself. “I’m not sure. I know you’d do a great job, but …”

“I understand.” Florence looked at her knowingly. “You can also press it in a book. Do you still keep a diary?”

“Yes, but I don’t write in it that often.” Cathy had journals going back from the time she was fifteen, but lately she had very little to write. Maybe that would change if she and Nancy became amateur sleuths. The thought sent a small thrill through her body.

Florence placed the corsage next to her on the end table by the sofa. It lay there on its pink ribbon looking abandoned, the peony already beginning to wilt.

“I have something to tell you, Catherine. While you were out, Brian called. His old cat, Boots, died last night.”

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Cathy knew how close Brian was to all his pets. He kept the four of them in his small house on Hyacinth Lane.

“He’s requested a memorial service for tomorrow. I haven’t called Steve yet. I thought you might want to do that.”

Cathy hesitated. She felt uneasy calling Steve after their date that didn’t go as well as she expected. “I’d prefer if you call Steve. Have you set a time for the service?”

“It’ll be at ten. I know that’s early for a Sunday morning, but it’ll be easier for Steve to dig the grave. I’ll ask him to be here at nine.”

“Thanks, Gran. Before you call him, there’s a few things I need to ask you.” Cathy wasn’t eager to interrogate her grandmother, but she figured she could do it in a casual way.

“Sure, dear.” Florence remained seated.

“Besides going over to bring her tea, is there anything else you remember from the day Maggie was killed?”

Cathy should’ve known her grandmother was smart enough to see through her questions. “Did Nancy put you up to investigating Maggie’s murder? I don’t think that’s a wise idea. Leroy and Brian are more than competent to solve the case, and you girls sticking your nose into things could be dangerous.”

“That’s what I told Nancy, but you know how she gets when she has an idea in her head. I don’t plan to put either of us at risk.”

Florence nodded. “Good. Everything seemed normal when I brought the tea. Was there anything else you needed to ask me before I call Steve?”

Cathy shook her head. “No. Maybe later.”

As Florence left the room, Cathy picked up the corsage and brought it upstairs. She lay it on her bureau next to a framed photo of her mother and father standing with her and Doug at her high school graduation. Everyone in the picture was smiling. She felt a tug at her heart. Then she saw Oliver on the bed, curled in the cat bed she left at the foot of the blankets. He opened a blue eye when she sat on the bed, as if he was winking at her.

“Sorry to wake you, Ollie. Are you dreaming about birds or mice?” Cathy had yet to try some of those cat videos on the Siamese that featured squirrels and other wildlife that were supposed to grab a cat’s attention and keep them occupied while their owners were working or away from home.

Oliver closed his eyes, but she knew, like a typical cat, he was still alert but feigning sleep.

Florence appeared in the doorway. “I spoke to Steve. It’s all set. He sends his regards and said he’ll see you tomorrow.”

“He didn’t ask to speak with me?”

“No. I’m sorry.” It was then that Cathy noticed the blush in her grandmother’s cheeks.

“You’ve heard from Howard, haven’t you?”

Florence’s cheeks reddened brighter. “You’re very observant. Yes, he also called while you were out. He’s asked me to dinner tonight. I was hoping it would be okay with you. Now that Becky is spending time off her feet, Doug is cooking their meals. I’m sure he’d have enough for you.”

“I’m totally capable of cooking for myself. You go out and have a great time. You don’t need to worry about your twenty-six-year-old granddaughter.”

Florence laughed. “Thank you, but you still might want to look in on your brother and his wife. As the time is growing near for the baby, they’re becoming more stressed. It’s normal. I remember how your mom and dad went through it with you and Doug.”

Cathy felt a ping of pain again in her heart at the mention of her parents. “I have an idea, Gran. What if I cook for Doug and Becky tonight?”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure they’d appreciate it. Why don’t you go over there right now and let them know? It’s better you tell them in person because they’ll probably try to talk you out of it over the phone.”

“Yes, that’s what I should do.” Cathy got off the bed, lightly brushing a hand over Oliver’s back. He didn’t stir, but she knew he’d felt it. “It’ll also give me an opportunity to check how things are at Rainbow Rescues. I know Becky has the volunteers helping out on a regular schedule, but it’s one more thing I can oversee to help her out.”

Florence smiled. “You’re a good girl, Catherine. Your parents would be proud to see you now.”

Cathy felt a lump in her throat. “That means a lot. I’m going next door. I’ll see you later.”

Knocking on the door of the small cottage-like house that belonged to her brother and his wife, Cathy hoped she wasn’t waking them. It was only eight o’clock, and she knew Becky was spending more time in bed lately. Doug had always liked to sleep late on weekends. After the third knock, however, her brother answered. He was dressed in brown khakis and a plaid shirt that would’ve gone well at the square dance had he attended.

“Hi, Cat. What’s up?”

“You, apparently,” she quipped. “I hope I didn’t wake Becky. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“You could’ve called, but c’mon in. Becky’s in the baby’s room adding some things to our new bassinet. You can have a look at it while you’re here, too.”

Cathy stepped into the house. Despite its size, it was neat and tidy. Max and Millie greeted her sniffing Oliver and the cats she’d checked on at Rainbow Rescues before coming over.

“I’d better let them out,” Doug said opening the door again and gently prodding the German Shepherds into the enclosed yard. “They’re due for their walk in a little bit, anyway.”

“I can take care of that if you’d like.”

He laughed, his hazel eyes twinkling at her. “I can’t see you handling two, ninety-pound dogs.”

“You do it, and I think I weigh more than you.” She didn’t mention the fact that his pregnant wife also walked the dogs.

“Ha, ha. That was below the belt, Sis.”

“I want to give you a hand with things. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I’m cooking dinner for you and Becky tonight. Gran has a date, so you can come over, or I can cook for you here. Your choice.”

Doug waved a hand through his dark hair. “Isn’t that nice? I could use a break from the oven, and I think Becky’s sick of the TV dinners I nuke in a crunch. But when did you learn to cook?”

“Why does everyone think I can’t cook?” Cathy tossed up her hands in exasperation. “I’ll show you. I have something very nutritious and delicious in mind. I’ll pick up the ingredients this afternoon.”

“Sounds great, but what’s the story with Gran? She hasn’t dated anyone since Grandpa died.”

“She met someone last night at the dance. He seems very nice. His name is Howard Hunt.”

“What does he do? Does he live around here?”

“He’s not a Buttercup Bend resident. Gran says his home is in a neighboring town. He saw the dance advertised in one of the papers and decided to drop in. I’m glad he did. He and Gran had a good time together. She really seemed to enjoy his company.”

“Do you know where he’s taking her? You should’ve found out more about him. He could be some weird guy looking to steal money from a rich widow.”

“Doug!” Cathy exclaimed in shock. “Gran isn’t rich, and I’m surprised at you. She’s a grown woman. She can take herself. I’m sure Mr. Hunt is a fine gentleman, and he’s a widower himself.”

“That’s what he says. He may have a wife and just be looking for some hooky on the side.”

“What’s that about hooky?” Becky appeared in the doorway filling most of the space with her stomach.

“Hey, honey. Cathy dropped in to invite us to dinner, and she’ll make it here if you want.”

“What about Grandma Florence?”

“That’s what we’re talking about. Have a seat.” He got up and pulled out a chair. She nearly tumbled into it. “I have more trouble getting up than down, Doug, but thank you. So, what about Florence?”

“She’s dating a stranger. I’m not thrilled with the idea, but Cat seems to think she’s safe even though she knows nothing about the guy. He was at the dance last night, arrived there uninvited, and doesn’t even live in Buttercup Bend.”

Cathy felt her anger rise. “Doug has this all wrong. If Gran should be worried about anyone, it should be Brody Broom. Did you hear what he did last night?”

Becky’s blue eyes widened in curiosity. “No. I went to bed pretty early. I thought Brody left town after the will was read.”

Cathy relayed the events of the previous evening.

“Oh, my God!” Becky’s hand went to her stomach as if to protect her unborn baby from the mention of a weapon.

“I didn’t hear that either,” Doug said. “What happened? Was anyone hurt?”

“No, thank goodness. Leroy and Brian tackled him and then brought him to jail. His girlfriend later bailed him out, but he wouldn’t have been charged with much because his gun wasn’t loaded.”

“Strange.” Doug ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t make much sense. If he killed his sister, why would he be so upset she left him so little and why blame her lawyer?”

“That’s what I told Nancy this morning when we discussed it. She said that Leroy is assigning men to watch the inn in case Brody does anything stupid again. I personally think Nancy was wrong in believing Leroy’s actions were appropriate. I can’t believe Brody would attempt anything else.”

“I guess it’s better the sheriff is taking precautions,” Becky said.

“Yeah, but can Leroy get some officers to follow Gran on her date?”

“Doug, stop that!” Becky admonished her husband. “You’re acting like Florence’s father and not her grandson. If Cathy isn’t worried, neither am I.”

“Thanks, Becky. Now would you mind showing me your new bassinet?” Cathy changed the subject to a more pleasant one.

Becky’s face lit up, and the light freckles around her nose seemed to dance. “I would love to as soon as Doug gives me a hand up.”

As Doug helped his wife up, Cathy couldn’t help but notice the expression of concern for their grandmother still etched on his face.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cathy spent a few more minutes at her brother’s house. She was eager to shop for the groceries she needed to prepare that night’s meal. After viewing the lovely bassinet over which hung a pastel mobile of stars and included a teddy bear propped up against the rail, she bid Becky and Doug goodbye promising them she’d watch out for Florence. She imagined how comfortable the bassinet would be when Gran completed the baby afghan.

“I don’t mean to sound like an overprotective grandson,” Doug said as he led Cathy to the door. “I know Gran deserves the same type of happiness Becky and I have.”

What about me? Cathy wanted to ask, but she figured if Doug was so uncomfortable with Florence seeing someone, he’d most likely freak out if his baby sister was serious about a guy. The thought brought her mixed feelings.

On the path toward the market, it hit her. Nancy had instructed her to interview Florence and Steve. But maybe she should’ve asked her brother and Becky a few questions. They had never mingled much with Maggie, but Doug delivered mail to her every day. It was possible he could’ve seen or heard something the day she was murdered. Cathy considered inserting some topics into the conversation at dinner that might draw out Doug’s memory without being too conspicuous about her motives. The thought exhilarated her, and again she felt as though she understood Nancy’s interest in sleuthing.

As she walked up and down the aisles of the small store that was packed to the brim with vegetables, fruit, and other produce, dry goods, and bakery items, Cathy began to feel hungry. She focused on the list she’d compiled in her head for the dinner menu. Becky, although not a vegetarian, was a big salad eater and even more so since she’d been expecting. Doug didn’t care much for salad, but he liked to start dinner with a warm loaf of bread. Cathy planned the first course to be a garden salad that included romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red onion slices, and chunks of cheddar cheese to add protein to the mix. There would also be a fresh loaf of cinnamon bread that she would bake in the oven.

The main course would be a beef stew with baby carrots, celery, pearl onions, and green beans. She’d season the broth with the fresh herbs that Gran grew in her garden and cook everything in Florence’s crock pot.

Thinking about the parsley, oregano, and rosemary she would add to the meat, Cathy remembered Pauline’s upset with her old neighbor who let her cats run free over her plants. She knew her grandmother prided herself on her garden, too, but she used cat-friendly deterrents such as lavender and geraniums along with her other flowers. Those plants give off a smell that doesn’t appeal to cats. Florence also reserved a certain area in her garden for plants that attracted cats such as catnip and cat mint hoping that would keep any wandering felines away from her other plants. Cathy often brought bunches of these inside for Oliver who enjoyed eating and romping in the leaves. Also, using a trick Steve suggested, Florence sprayed citrus and a cinnamon and water concoction near the plants she wanted protected. After the rain, she promptly resprayed to refresh the scent that cats disliked. Cathy wondered why Pauline never bothered with these options and hoped to suggest them to her the next time they spoke.

After finding all the items she needed for that night’s meal, Cathy stepped in line at the checkout counter. The cashier, a chubby mother of six who worked part-time at the supermarket, greeted her. “How’s Florence?” she asked. “You doing the grocery shopping today?”

“Yes. Gran is fine. I’m cooking for my brother and his wife while she goes out tonight.”

“Nice. How is Becky holding up? Isn’t her due date around the corner?”

Cathy was glad Mrs. Popkins hadn’t asked about Florence’s date. “She’s not due until next month, but Gran thinks the baby will arrive sooner.”

Mrs. Popkins nodded her prematurely gray head of curly hair. Cathy assumed the woman was only a few years older than she but with kids from two to seven including a pair of twins in between, she could understand her aging less gracefully. The only break Mrs. Popkins had was that her husband worked nights and gave up eight hours of sleep to watch the kids who didn’t attend school yet while she made a few bucks toward their living expenses. At least costs were lower in Buttercup Bend than the city.

“Becky and Doug were in here the other day picking up a few things. We have a baby aisle, and they were stocking up on diapers. I told them to wait for the shower. Has Florence set a date yet for that?”

Cathy had nearly forgotten the baby shower her grandmother was planning. She knew Florence was hoping to finish the baby blanket by then. “Yes. I know she sent out invitations a week ago. The shower’s this Tuesday. She’s only inviting a few close girlfriends and the pastor’s wife.” Cathy hoped Mrs. Popkins hadn’t expected an invitation.

As the cashier helped bag her groceries, she added, “I heard the Cat Lady’s sister is still at the inn. I’m sure she won’t get an invite.”

Cathy figured Florence didn’t know Gladys well enough to invite her to Becky’s shower.

“Well, have a nice day, and good luck with your dinner party, Cathy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Popkins. You have a good day, too.”

As she was pushing her grocery cart out the automatic door, Cathy saw a scrawny, gray-haired man pulling up his loose pants. Brody Broom was entering the supermarket.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Cathy froze in her tracks watching Brody enter the store. She almost wanted to turn her cart around and follow him to see what he was purchasing, but she forced herself to load her packages in her car. Once inside, with the windows and doors closed, she dialed Nancy on her cell phone. When her friend answered, she said, “Nance, Brody just went into the grocery store. I saw him as I was on my out. Don’t do anything stupid like coming down here. I’m headed home to check on Gran and start cooking for Doug and Becky. I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Have you questioned your grandmother yet?”

Cathy sighed. “She figured out why I was asking her about Maggie’s murder. She said she hadn’t noticed anything odd when she brought the tea. I wanted to try to jog her memory, but I let it go because she’s so excited about her date with the man she met at the dance last night.”

“Well, I spoke to Pauline already and I got more info that she drew out of Leroy about Brody. If I was there, I’d wait for him to come out of the store and tail him.”

“I told you not to come down here. Wait …” Cathy saw Brody walk through the glass doors and head for a car a few spots down on the same side of the lot as hers.

“What’s going on? Do you see him?”

“Yes. He’s leaving.”

“Go after him.” Her friend’s voice was excited as if she was anticipating the thrill of the chase.

“I hate to do this, Nancy, but you talked me into it.” Cathy ended the call and started up the car. She waited until she saw Brody drive off. Then she followed behind keeping a car-lengths distance between them. When he turned down Juniper Lane, she realized he was headed back to the inn.

As he drove into a parking spot in front of the inn, a police car whizzed by, its siren blasting. She pulled over to the curb and rolled down her window. Leroy and Brian exited their cruiser. She watched as they approached Brody’s car. “Get out with your hands up,” the Sheriff commanded.

She strained her ears to hear Brody’s reply but couldn’t. A moment later, he opened the car door and strode out, hands over his head. Just like the police dramas Gran liked to watch on TV, he was frisked against his car. Leroy tossed a pack of tissues to the ground and a few gum wrappers. As they fell, she noted Brody’s pants were slipping, and she worried they might fall down around his knees. Only his loose belt kept that from happening.

“Just junk,” Leroy exclaimed. “Check that bag, though.”

Brian took the grocery bag that was on the passenger seat and showed Leroy the contents that included a case of unopened beer.

“What’s going on?” Brody asked. “You’ll find nothing illegal on me. I’m not drunk, and I wasn’t speeding.”

“After I released you from jail, I told you to stay at the inn until I gave you the go ahead to leave town.”

“I was only grocery shopping. Can’t a man buy himself some beer in peace? And what’s with the body check? I should press harassment charges against you.”

As Leroy and Brody argued, Sandra opened the door and stepped out on the porch. She hurried down the stairs, her brown and gray streaked ponytail swinging. “Officers, Mr. Broom is a guest at my inn. He’s been nothing but respectful to me and the other guests.”

Leroy grunted. “Put your arms down but don’t move.” He turned to Sandra. “Are you aware he threatened Norman Dexter with a gun at the church anniversary dance last night?”

“Yes, I was informed.” Sandra, in her platform wedges, was a head taller than the red-headed sheriff. She looked down at him and added, “I also heard the gun wasn’t loaded and that it was licensed to my guest.”

Cathy was surprised Sandra was defending Brody, but she knew there was always two sides to a story. It seemed the sheriff had taken an instant dislike to Maggie’s brother and was ready to pin the smallest indiscretion on him.

“Can I talk to you a minute, Sheriff?” Brian asked. The two men walked to the side to speak privately. After some whispered words and the sheriff shrugging his shoulders, Leroy went back to the car and spoke to Brody. “I’m letting you go, but I warn you, I’m keeping an eye on you.” He waved his gun at the man for emphasis.

When Leroy turned his back, Brody held up his middle finger. Brian saw it and grinned. Leroy whirled around, but Brody had already put down his hand. “Let’s get out of here.” Leroy gestured to Brian. As the two men started to leave and Sandra and Brody went into the inn, Cathy started her car.

Before she could drive away, Brian walked over to her. Had he seen her following Brody? Would he tell Leroy? Would they admonish her for playing detective? She was relieved when he smiled through her window. “Hi, Cat. Sorry about that, but Nancy called Leroy and told him Mr. Broom was at the grocery store. He figured he was headed back to the inn. I guess we blocked your way, but it gives me a chance to ask about tomorrow. Is everything set? It’s very kind of your grandmother to do the service for free. I’m planning to give her a donation, anyway.”

Cathy had forgotten all about Boots’ memorial service. “I’m sure Gran has everything under control, Brian, and don’t feel you need to compensate her. I’m sorry about your cat. It’s always hard to lose a pet, and I know she meant a lot to you.”

She saw his eyes cloud over behind his glasses. “Yes, Boots was one of my favorites, although I love all my pets. She and I had a special bond.” He nearly choked on the last word.

“Hey, Brian. You coming, or what?”

Leroy waved from behind the seat of his patrol car.

“Looks like I gotta go. Thanks again, Cat. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, but I need to give you this first.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a key. “That’s the key to Maggie Broom’s house. I’ve been using it to feed her cats but since Leroy is letting you in there to do that, I might as well give it to you. Ms. Broom also collected a lot of neat cat items. When you get the place cleaned out, you might want to check their value and sell them to raise more funds for the rescue center.”

“Good idea, Brian.” She took the key from him. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” She waited until he was seated next to the sheriff to drive back home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

When Cathy walked in the house, she didn’t see her grandmother, so she put away the groceries and went upstairs figuring Florence was working on Becky’s blanket. The door to her room was closed, so she knocked. “Gran, are you there?” For a moment, she was afraid something had happened. Her fears were alleviated when Florence answered. She was dressed in a figure-flattering lavender dress Cathy had never seen before. It was silky, hugged her curves, and accented her slim waist. The hem ended discretely an inch below the knee. Her white hair was piled up in a French knot that added glamour to her heart-shaped face. Cathy knew she’d been a knockout at her age and was still an attractive woman.

“You look gorgeous, Gran, but aren’t you dressed a bit early?”

“No. Howard’s picking me up in a half hour. I like to be prompt. Before dinner, we’re going to a Broadway Play. He’s taking me to see Beautiful about Carole King, who was one of my favorite singers. I hear it’s wonderful.”

“You’re going to the City?” Cathy was shocked. She thought Howard was taking her grandmother to a local restaurant. There were so many nice ones in the Catskills.

“Yes. I haven’t been to New York in ages, and please don’t wait up for me, honey. We’ll probably get in early tomorrow morning, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure I’m back in time for Boots’ memorial service.”

Cathy hated to make the same objections as her brother, but she couldn’t help voicing her concern. “You hardly know Howard. That’s a long trip with a stranger.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine. I’m not a teenager. I know how to protect myself and, best of all, I don’t need to worry about getting pregnant.” She laughed.

If anything, that made Cathy feel worse, but she knew there was no arguing with her grandmother. She just hoped Florence wasn’t blinded by the first man who’d shown interest in her since her grandfather’s death.

“Is everything arranged for dinner with Doug and Becky?”

Cathy was caught off guard a moment by the change of subject. “I, uh, oh, yes. I think Doug is relieved that I’m cooking for them tonight. I decided to make a stew in your crock pot and bring it over there if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. That sounds nice. I know Becky will also appreciate it.” Florence stepped back inside and grabbed her purse, a slim black evening clutch. “I better wait downstairs. Would you like me to give you a hand with the stew before I leave? Remember, it needs to be browned before being put into the pot. I usually cook the meat on the low setting for six hours, but I know Doug and Becky like to eat early, so maybe you can cook it for four on the high setting.”

“That’s what I was planning to do, but I don’t need any help. You’re all dressed, anyway. Just have a seat in the living room and relax.” Cathy had decided to let go of her apprehensions. Florence was right that she was a grown woman and knew how to handle men.

While Cathy was preparing the meat and vegetables, her grandmother came into the kitchen. “Don’t forget to add some of my fresh herbs. Parsley and oregano go well with stew meat.”

“I know. I’m going out to the garden to cut some soon, but I told you to stay in the living room. Remember the saying about too many cooks in the kitchen.”

“Sorry. I admit I’m a little nervous about this date. Not that I’m worried about Howard. It’s me I’m anxious about. What if I say the wrong thing or give him the wrong impression? I haven’t dated in fifty years.”

Cathy smiled. “Just be yourself. I know you give me that advice all the time, and I should follow it. It’s only natural to be scared in new situations or ones you haven’t been in for so long. You’ll do fine and if you don’t, it’s Howard’s loss.”

Florence smiled. “I have a wise granddaughter. Thank you, Catherine. Now get that meal going. I want to hear rave reviews from Doug and Becky when I return, and I’m sure I will.”

While Florence waited for Howard in the living room, Cathy went out the kitchen door to the back garden with the shears. The herbs growing there were tall and healthy looking. They’d make a delicious garnish and liven up the meat sauce. She bent down to start clipping when she heard the front gate creak open. Placing the shears on the ground, she hurried to the side of the fence in time to see Howard dressed in a gray suit walk up the path. He held a bunch of spring flowers in his hand, no roses but marigolds, tulips, hyacinths, and lilacs among sprigs of forget-me-nots. She must’ve made a noise because he stopped halfway to the door and turned. She tried to duck back, but it was too late. Changing direction, he strode over to her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Carter. I hope I’m not too early. Is Florence home?”

“Hello, Mr. Hunt. You can call me Cathy and, yes, my grandmother is inside waiting for you. I was just choosing some herbs from her garden to use for a dinner I’m cooking for my brother and his wife.”

“That’s nice of you. Does Florence keep a vegetable garden, too?”

“No, just herbs. She’s more a craftsperson than a gardener. Her friend Pauline, I think you met her at the dance, she’s the one seeing the sheriff. She’s the big gardener in Buttercup Bend, and she taught Gran how to plant herbs.” Cathy didn’t know why she was babbling so much. The thought crossed her mind that maybe she was postponing the time Florence would leave with her date.

Howard’s gray eyes lit up. “I have a green thumb myself. Do you mind if I come take a look at the garden? I know Florence must be waiting, but it won’t take long.”

“Sure.” Cathy unlatched the gate and beckoned Howard to enter. He followed her to the small square plot under the kitchen window where the herbs grew.

Howard crouched down but was careful to avoid getting any grass or dirt stains on his pant legs. “Very nice – parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, like that old Simon and Garfunkel song. Wait, what’s this?” He pointed to a plant with odd-shaped berries.

Cathy recalled her grandmother’s warning about that particular herb. “That’s Nightshade. It produces Belladonna, a poisonous substance, but Gran grows it because it has some medicinal properties.”

“I’ve heard of that plant. I hope none of your pets wander here and eat any.”

“Oh, no. Oliver doesn’t go out and neither do my brothers’ dogs unless they’re being walked. The rescue pets are indoors-only, too. But even if a stray came in the yard, Gran spritzes this area with citrus. Felines and other animals don’t like the smell of that and are deterred by it.”

“Interesting. Well, thanks for showing me, Cathy. I think I’ll go inside now and see Florence. I don’t want her to think I stood her up on our first date.”

“About that, Mr. Hunt …”

“Howard, please.”

“Howard. How come you’re taking Gran into the City? There are lots of local theaters up here.”

“That’s true, but Broadway is a special experience. Have you been there? Florence tells me she attended shows many years ago with your grandfather.”

“I went to Radio City once for the Christmas show but that was about it. Doug took Becky for a weekend in the City for their anniversary last year. They said they had a wonderful time.”

“Well, I’m sure someone will take you there, too. Your grandmother says you’re dating that young man, Steve, who takes care of landscaping your pet cemetery. Maybe he’ll ask you.”

Cathy was surprised Florence had shared personal information so soon with Howard, but she knew he’d seen her at the dance with the gardener.

Before she could comment, the kitchen door opened. Her grandmother stood there. “I thought I heard voices. Hello, Howard. I’m all set for our trip. Please come in.”

Cathy remembered she hadn’t cut the herbs and needed to start cooking the stew or it wouldn’t be ready in time. “I’ll be there in a minute, but don’t wait for me. I hope you both have a great time in New York.”

“Thank you.” Florence left the door open after Howard entered. As Cathy snipped the parsley and oregano, she heard Florence and Howard’s voices, low murmurs and then the smooch of a kiss. She felt embarrassed as if she was eavesdropping. Howard had presented her grandmother with the flowers he’d picked from his garden.

When she was done gathering the herbs, Cathy went inside. A note lay on the kitchen table.

Sorry we didn’t have time to say goodbye, but we don’t want to be late for the show. Thanks again for cooking for Doug and Becky. I’ve left instructions for the stew next to the crock pot. Don’t wait up for me.

Love, Gran

Cathy hadn’t even heard Howard’s car pull away. She was slightly disappointed they’d rushed off and felt unreasonably fearful for her grandmother’s safety. She took her mind off her worries by preparing the stew. After the meat had been seasoned and browned, she placed it in the crock pot along with the onions, sliced carrots, and celery. She set the dial to medium high and the timer for four hours. She checked the kitchen clock. The stew would be ready by 5 pm.

Even though the crock pot didn’t give off an aroma initially, Oliver, with his keen cat sense of smell, came padding into the kitchen. Gazing up with big blue eyes toward the kitchen counter where the crock pot brewed, he meowed, begging for some meat.

“You can’t have any of that, boy, but I promise I’ll boil chicken for you as a compromise.” Florence always kept packages of frozen chicken tenders in the refrigerator in case Oliver or any of the rescue cats were sick. She believed that, like chicken soup, fresh chicken would ail a cat’s sour stomach or entice them to eat when they were avoiding their cat food. In most cases, it did the trick. She also served chicken once in a while as a treat for all the cats.

As soon as Cathy put the small pot of water on the stove and brought out the chicken, Oliver cried louder. He hovered by her side until the chicken was cooked, and she cut it into pieces and put it down on a paper plate for him. He devoured it quickly.

“Glad you enjoyed that. I’m going out for a little bit, but I’ll be back before the stew is done.” She knew she could trust the cat, satisfied by his special dish, not to jump on the crock pot. She watched as he walked into the living room, curled up on the couch, and started grooming himself. She was accustomed to this feline behavior cats exhibited after they ate. She laughed as he licked his brown paw and wiped both sides of his face.

“See you later, Oliver. Have a nice nap with your full tummy.” She’d decided to pay Nancy a visit and fill her in on what happened earlier with Brody. She knew her friend was the one who had tipped off the sheriff, but she didn’t understand why when Nancy seemed so intent on handling the investigation into Maggie’s murder with her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cathy stood outside ringing the bell of the small house where Nancy rented an apartment from Mildred Hastings, the librarian. The bell was in the back and led to a tiny basement consisting of a kitchen, living room, and bathroom that Nancy had decorated with splashes of warm colors to help brighten the windowless area. Nancy appeared at the top of the stairs wearing jeans and a pullover sky-blue sweater. Her blonde hair was swept up in a high ponytail.

“Hey, Cat. What brings you here? Is everything okay? I meant to call you, but I heard that Leroy caught up with Brody. I figured you were safe.”

“That’s okay, Nance, and you know darn well why Leroy caught up with Brody. You called him after I told you he was at the store.”

Nancy grinned. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t resist tipping off the sheriff. I assumed you were there when he arrived at the inn. Come on in, and you can tell me about it.”

“I think you already know, but I have a few hours to kill before the stew I’m cooking is ready.”

“Great! We can discuss the investigation. I hope you don’t mind, but Mildred is here. She has today off, so I invited her downstairs. I was filling her in on everything. As the town’s librarian, she’s a good source of info.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Maggie’s murder, but I don’t mind visiting with Mildred. She always finds me the best books at the library.”

Cathy followed Nancy downstairs. Ducking her head under the eaves of the narrow stairway, she spotted Mildred on the couch. Hobo was on her lap, and she was stroking the red tabby’s head.

“Mildred loves Hobo,” Nancy said. “That’s why I rent with her. She doesn’t mind my keeping a pet. She was great about Popeye, too, even when he meowed so early in the morning for breakfast.”

“Talking about me again,” Mildred said. “Oh, hello, Cathy. How was that J.D. Robb book you took out last week? Are you enjoying it?”

Cathy was embarrassed to admit she hadn’t even opened the new installment of the “In Death” series. “Sorry, but I haven’t had a chance to start it yet. I hope to get to it soon. I’ll return it on time. I promise.”

The librarian smiled. “Don’t worry about that. I can renew it for you if you’d like. I know you have a lot of things on your plate right now.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

“Have a seat, Cat,” Nancy said. “I was just about to offer Mildred some muffins. They’re not homemade. I picked them up from the bakery section of the grocery store.”

“You were at the market?”

“Yes, I got back a short time ago. I questioned the cashier about Brody. It was part of my investigation.”

“How exciting, you girls playing detectives,” Mildred said. There was a glint in her brown eyes behind the lenses of her glasses. “I sometimes feel like a detective myself when I query patrons about what they’re searching for.”

Cathy took a seat next to Mildred as Nancy went to the kitchen only a few feet away to bring back the muffins, a teapot, and three teacups on a tray. As she lay them on the table in front of the two women, Hobo began sniffing the air and jumped off Mildred’s lap.

“Looks like he wants some of those goodies,” Mildred said.

Nancy scooped him up. “No, you don’t. Let me put some cat food out for you, so we can eat in peace.” She carried him to the kitchen and opened a can that Cathy recognized as one of the same Fancy Feast meals she fed Oliver. “While I was at the grocery store, I also stocked up on cat food. Hobo has quite a healthy appetite.”

“It’s great to see how well he’s adjusted here.” Cathy was also happy that Nancy had gotten used to having a cat after being without one for some time after Popeye passed.

When Nancy rejoined them, Mildred reached out and helped herself to a blueberry muffin. Cathy took a chocolate chip one. “These are really good, Nance. You can’t even tell they’re store bought.”

“Glad you like them. Would you want me to pour you some tea? I know the strawberry apple herbal is your favorite.”

“Yes, thank you.” Cathy was all thumbs with tea pots, often spilling more of the hot liquid than what she managed to get in her cup.

Nancy poured tea all around. “Back to our discussion, Mildred, can you repeat to Cathy what you told me about Brody?”

“I’d be glad to.” Her eyes lit up again, making them appear more hazel than brown. For a woman in her early sixties, she looked at least a decade younger. She turned to Cathy. “Nancy asked me if Brody Broom ever came to the library. He isn’t from around here, so he doesn’t have a library card. However, he showed up yesterday afternoon. He asked for some information about wills and the procedure for attesting them. Now that’s a common question from patrons, but we librarians tend not to give legal counsel. I gave him some books about wills, but mostly they only provided sample forms for living wills and trusts. He made some copies of them and thanked me. He was pleasant enough, but I didn’t appreciate his cracking gum when he spoke with me. I was glad he knew enough not to stick any on the library furniture like some of the kids do.”

“Tell her the rest,” Nancy urged.

“He also inquired about what material we had on poisons. He said he had some pests at his house and wanted to know what he could do to get rid of them when he went home.”

“What do you make of that?” Nancy asked, her blue eyes widening. “Doesn’t it sound like he’s planning to kill somebody?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Mildred said, “but, under the circumstances, it does sound a bit suspicious. I was happy to help him, though. There are too many patrons who are afraid to ask us questions and just get on one of our PCs and Google the information.”

“You have a point,” Cathy said, “but it does make him look guilty. Have you shared this with the sheriff?”

“No. I respect my patron’s privacy. The only reason I told Nancy is because she asked and promised not to tell anyone else except you. I trust you both.”

“Good to know,” Nancy said. “What about you, Cathy? Have you questioned anyone about our case?”

“Our case? I thought it was Sheriff Miller’s case.”

“It is, but I’m sure he’ll welcome our help.”

“I wouldn’t be too certain of that. And, no, I haven’t had a chance to speak to anyone but my grandmother. She had nothing to say and was excited about her date to New York City with Howard. Then I got occupied preparing dinner for Doug and Betty. It’s cooking in Gran’s crock pot right now.”

“I should get a crock pot. I often work late on stories for Pauline and, when I get home, I’m too tired to cook. It would be great to just throw some ingredients together, set a timer, and come back eight hours later to a cooked meal.”

Cathy found it interesting that Nancy skimmed over her comment about Florence’s date, but Mildred heard it. Even though she’d never been married, the spinster librarian was rumored to have had quite a few romances. “That’s great about your grandmother seeing someone, Cathy. Have they been dating long?”

“Only since last night. They met at the church social. You should attend one some time.”

“Pastor Green is always trying to talk me into going. One day I will.”

“I think your grandmother is pretty adventurous traveling all the way to the City with someone she barely knows,” Nancy said.

“Doug feels that way, too. He’s been protective of her since our grandfather died.”

There was a lull in the conversation that was broken after a few minutes by Mildred. “Girls, I need to get going now. This has been pleasant, but my book club is meeting soon.”

“You can’t stay away from the library even on your day off,” Nancy said.

Mildred smiled. “It’s like home to me. I’ve worked there for over thirty years.” As she stood, she pointed a finger at Cathy. “Now you read that book and get it back to us soon.”

Cathy knew she was joking. “Yes, Ma’am. Will do.”

Nancy walked Mildred upstairs and then sat back down in the place she’d left next to Cathy. “How much time do you have before you need to get back to your crock pot?”

Cathy checked her watch. “A few hours at least. Why?”

“I think we need to commence our team investigation. I was planning to visit the inn and talk with Sandra and Brody today. Maybe Gladys, too. Want to come with me?”

Despite wanting to help Nancy and the secret part of her that felt excited about solving a mystery, Cathy was still hesitant about becoming involved in a police investigation. “I’m not sure, Nance.”

“C’mon. It’ll be interesting. Wouldn’t it be great if we crack Maggie’s murder?”

“Not so much if the killer finds out about it.”

Nancy tapped Cathy’s arm. “You’re such a worrier. I’m a reporter, remember? I know the right questions to ask that won’t ruffle any feathers.”

“Then why do you need me?”

“You’re better at reading people. You can watch their reactions and tell me if you think they’re hiding something.”

“Okay, but only until four. I need to make sure the dinner is cooking well, and I’d also like to check on Maggie’s cats before I go home. I’ve got the key to the house now.”

Nancy smiled. “That’s even better. Maybe we can have a look in there for clues. Now let’s get going before you change your mind.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

They took Nancy’s car since Cathy had walked. It wasn’t far to the inn, but Nancy said they needed a getaway car just in case. Cathy hoped she was kidding.

When they pulled up to the Buttercup Inn, Cathy had a flashback of what had transpired there that morning. The place now seemed peaceful and welcoming. The baskets of pansies and geraniums that hung from the patio eaves swayed slightly in the spring breeze. Other than that, the place was quiet.

“Brody may have gone out again. I don’t think he’s going to heed the sheriff’s warning about staying put.”

“I doubt that,” Nancy said, “but let’s see.” She tapped lightly at the freshly painted white door. Sandra’s grown son, Paul, who attended college nearby often came to visit and help his mother spiff up the place. It was obvious to Cathy that he’d been by recently. His father, Sandra’s ex, wasn’t very handy, and Sandra and Paul didn’t keep in contact with him after the bitter divorce. In fact, Sandra had once placed an order of protection against Paul, Sr. When Sandra moved to Buttercup Bend, she told Florence she’d escaped an abusive marriage and should’ve done it sooner but was waiting until Paul was grown. Opening the inn had paved the road to her emotional recovery.

Sandra came to the door in the same outfit she’d worn earlier when she’d stood up for Brody. “Hello, Nancy, Cathy. What are you gals dropping by here for?”

“I understand Brody Broom is one of your guests. Is he here right now?”

Sandra’s expression changed at Nancy’s question. It became guarded as her smile faded. “I know you work with Pauline, Nancy, but I don’t appreciate reporters coming to my door. Brody’s gone on a walk, and I hope Sheriff Miller doesn’t give him any grief about that like he did about his shopping at the grocery store earlier. Despite what the sheriff contends, Brody is an innocent man. Believe me, I can tell when someone’s violent. I learned that lesson the hard way. Now if that’s all you came for, have a nice day.” She was about to close the door when Nancy stepped forward. “No, wait. Is Gladys Broom around? I know she’s staying here, too.”

“She’s out, as well, but if you really need to talk to someone, I have a few minutes. However, I have nothing to say about Maggie’s murder.”

Cathy expected Nancy to back down, but her journalism training had instilled persistence in her. “Although we’re interested in what thoughts you might have about the murder, we have some other questions for you. It won’t take much of your time.”

“Very well. Come on in. Most of the other guests besides the Brooms are out, too, and I have some time before I start dinner.” She opened the door and led them into the entryway of the inn. The tiled floors sparkled without a trace of scuff marks that some guests’ shoes might leave. Cathy wondered if Sandra made a habit of polishing her floors. When she visited previously, she had been directed to the breakfast nook and hadn’t paid much attention to the other rooms.

Off the entryway was the parlor. The tiles in that room were covered with throw rugs. An overstuffed brown couch with Aztec-designed pillows that complimented Sandra’s skirt were piled together at opposite ends. A few magazines were scattered on the glass table in front of it.

“Have a seat, Ladies,” Sandra invited.

Cathy noted a small bar with a few glasses atop it that were filled with smoothies and a platter of fresh cut fruit and cheese with colored toothpicks for serving. Next to them were a few small China plates.

“You can help yourselves to the snack bar. That’s the leftover from the afternoon treats I put out for guests. Instead of the traditional tea and sugar-laden pastries or muffins, I try to keep a health-conscious menu here, even though some healthy treats are still high in calories.”

Neither Cathy nor Nancy took any fruit, but Cathy’s throat felt parched despite the tea at Nancy’s place. She wondered if it was nerves and took a strawberry smoothie to soothe it.

“This is very good, thanks,” she said. “Do you make these yourself?”

“Indeed. I have a smoothie maker. I can tell you where to buy one if you’re interested, and I also have some recipes to share.”

Nancy gave Cathy a glance that told her she wanted to get down to business. “Not right now. I’ll check with my grandmother first and let you know if she might want some.”

“Excellent.” Sandra took a seat across from the couch. “So, what would you like to ask me?”

“We’re interested in what you may have noticed the day they found Maggie dead in her house. Did you have any guests here at that time? Anybody suspicious?”

“I thought you weren’t grilling me on suspects, Nancy. The sheriff already did that, and I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. I had a few guests. No one stands out. They’re all gone now. Brody and Gladys checked in after they received word of the will reading and are staying here until Sheriff Miller tells them they’re free to go.”

Sandra paused and then continued. “If you ask me, the person who killed Maggie is a resident of this town. I know Leroy hates to admit that because there’s such a dearth of crime here, but I fear things are changing.”

“Are you saying you think someone else may be next?”

Sandra looked across at Nancy. “It’s possible, but I think Sheriff Miller should start searching for other suspects and not jump to the conclusion that Brody is responsible because he threatened Norman Dexter.”

Sandra’s words hung on the air as Cathy sipped her smoothie. The sound of the straw gliding through the thick mixture was the only noise in the room besides the ticking of the inn’s grandfather clock in the corner.

“Thank you for that information,” Nancy said standing up. “We won’t take any more of your time.”

As Cathy got off the sofa, Sandra stood, too. “I didn’t give you any information except my opinion for what it’s worth. But I do have one other thing to share.”

“Yes?” Nancy’s eyebrows rose in expectation. Cathy got the impression she was hoping for a solid lead that Sandra had thus far kept quiet about. Instead, the innkeeper said, as if reading her mind, “This isn’t a tip, ladies. It’s advice. People who play detectives often get in the line of fire. For your own safety, I would leave this investigation up to the sheriff and his men.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

After leaving the inn, Nancy drove to the Buttercup Bugle’s office and parked on the street. She hadn’t said a word to Cathy on the short, three-block drive to Lily Lane.

“Didn’t you want to come in when I feed Maggie’s cats?” Cathy asked even though she knew that might not be a good idea because Nancy would be more interested in snooping around the place.

“Yes, but I want to check the office first to see if Pauline’s around or left any notes for me about stories she needs me to cover. I think she went over to the station to speak with Leroy. She often brings donuts for him and his men around this time, and I think she sneaks off with him into one of the interrogation rooms for some hanky panky.”

“Nancy! What are you saying? Those rooms have cameras.”

“I’m sure he can turn them off. It would be Pauline’s idea, not his. I know her long enough that she would convince him to do something like that. And don’t look so shocked, Cathy. Your grandmother is dating now, too. It looks like the older citizens of this community see more action than some of the younger ones like us.”

“Are you talking about the square dance, Nancy? I meant to ask you how it went afterwards. Has Michael asked you out again?”

Nancy frowned. “Nope. How about you? Did Steve kiss you goodnight or anything?”

“With my grandmother around? No, but I’m seeing him tomorrow at the memorial service for Brian’s cat.”

“Dress nice. I know this is terrible, but I almost wish Hobo would get sick, so I could take him to the vet.”

“Why don’t you just call Michael and ask him to dinner? Wait, I have an idea.” A lightbulb went off in Cathy’s head. “Why don’t I invite you and him to dinner with me, Becky, and Doug tonight? There’s plenty of stew.”

“That sounds like a plan, Cat, but also invite Steve. You don’t want an odd seat at the table, do you?”

“Good point. I think I’ll do that. Becky’s table seats eight. She and Doug are planning a large family.”

“All right. Keep me posted about the time and if everyone can make it. I’m running into the office now. Do you want to wait in the car or come in with me? I won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait. While you’re in there, I’ll make the calls from my cell.”

“Perfect. See you in a jiffy.” Nancy was out of the car and strolling down Pauline’s path. Cathy noticed her step was lively as if she was excited about the evening’s plans.

A little while later, after Cathy had gotten positive confirmations from Steve and Michael, Nancy came out of the house and opened the driver’s side door. “No Pauline or any messages from her. Let’s go next door.”

As they approached Maggie’s house, Cathy noticed a few cats had gathered in the front yard and one lay on the porch cleaning herself in a sunny spot. The calico looked well fed, and Cathy figured Brian had made a recent trip there with cat food before he’d given Cathy the house key. She ignored the bronze knocker in the shape of a cat’s head and unlocked the door. As Brian had mentioned, not only had Maggie collected cats, but she’d also collected cat items. When she’d first moved to the neighborhood, Florence had baked Maggie a welcome cake that she’d brought over with Cathy. They’d both found the inside of the house crammed with kitty knickknacks and collectibles of all types. A rack in the kitchen had held cat plates and a bookshelf in the den had been packed with cat mysteries.

As they stepped into the house, Cathy saw even more cat items than she remembered from the past and from the last time she’d been there with Pauline and the sheriff after Maggie had been found dead. Cats were lounging, sitting, or hanging around every available spot. When Cathy and Nancy maneuvered around the clutter, a black paw swatted Cathy’s leg.

“Be careful,” Nancy warned. “You might step on a tail or some valuable cat collectible. Maybe you want to take some photos?”

“Not now,” Cathy said. “I’m just here to check on the cats. Once I start clearing out the place, maybe you can help me catalog some of the stuff. I’m sure Pauline would be interested in a story on the Cat Crazy Lady’s collectibles, and it might help us advertise the pieces that Brian suggested we put up for sale with the proceeds going to Rainbow Rescues.”

“I’d love that, Cat. I’m a real eBay fanatic, so I can get you some accurate sales prices. You know, despite her feline fetish, it looks like Maggie kept a clean house. There’s hardly any dust anywhere, and there’s only a faint odor of litter box smell.”

“I assume Brian took care of the scooping when he was here, and Maggie probably kept her collectibles polished.”

“Well, we haven’t seen the rest of the house. For all we know, there could be a few back rooms full of garbage.”

“I don’t think so, but I know you’re dying to see the rest of the place, so come with me.”

When they walked down the hall, a plump gray cat jumped up next to Nancy who let out a cry.

“What’s the matter, Nance? Are you afraid Maggie’s ghost is haunting her house?”

“I wish because then we could ask who killed her.”

While Nancy was wrong about the back rooms being full of garbage, one of them contained several bowls full of kibble, canned cat food, and water. Bags and boxes of cat supplies were stacked against a wall. Another room was crammed with litter boxes, scoopers, and litter, and a third housed cat trees and toys. There were two other rooms that were closed, and Cathy recalled that one was Maggie’s bedroom. The other was probably a bathroom.

Cathy and Nancy walked into the cat playroom where more of Maggie’s cats hung out. Several sat atop built-in window perches, and a few rolled around on the floor amid what looked like a sprinkling of catnip that Cathy thought had been poured from one of the assorted catnip containers by the door including a tall bottle claiming it was Catnip Champagne. Other cats batted around toys ranging from balls with bells in them, squeaking toy mice, and circular and square mazes with objects inside and holes to allow paws to “catch” them.

“Maggie sure knew how to keep her kitties happy,” Cathy said to Nancy who’d walked over to one of the windows on which a striped tabby lay sunning itself. Peering outside, she let out a cry like the one in the hall when she hadn’t expected a cat to jump out at her.

“What’s the matter?” Cathy joined her at the window.

“There’s someone out there looking at us,” she whispered pointing at the glass.

Cathy recognized Gladys Broom’s beady black eyes staring back at them. The pudgy woman knocked on the window and called, “Hi, there. I didn’t know anyone was inside. Can you please let me in for a minute?”

“Who is that?” Nancy asked.

“It’s Gladys Broom. Should we let her in?”

“That’s your decision, Cat, but I think this would be an opportune moment for us to question her.”

When Cathy opened the door, Gladys wobbled in. “Sorry to disturb you ladies, but I couldn’t resist taking a look at my sister’s house. I’ve never been here before. Mrs. Barry gave me directions. I had no idea I could get in. I thought I’d just glance through some of the windows.”

“We came to check on the cats,” Cathy said, “but since you’re here, you can look around if you like.” She was surprised the younger Broom sister was interested in seeing the place after what she’d said at the inn when they’d first met about not caring who got Maggie’s house and how she didn’t like cats.

“Before you do that,” Nancy said, “Why don’t you have a seat, and we can talk for a few minutes.” She put out her hand. “I’m Nancy Meyers, Cathy’s friend and a reporter for the Buttercup Bugle.”

Gladys’ face changed. Her fat cheeks bunched together as her thin lips turned down. “I’d rather not speak to a reporter.”

“This won’t be on record. I promise. I’m curious about a few things and wonder if you might be able to fill me in about them.”

Cathy knew this wasn’t the right approach. Gladys stepped back. “No. Sorry.”

Nancy held her head up high, looked directly into Gladys’ eyes, and said, “I didn’t mean to be deceptive. The true reason we want to talk with you,” she glanced over at Cathy, “Is because we’re concerned residents of Buttercup Bend, and we’re launching an unofficial investigation into your sister’s murder.”

Gladys shrugged, relaxing her thick shoulders. “That’s fine with me, but I doubt I can help you. I answered all of the sheriff’s questions, so I can’t see what else you can ask me.”

“Well, for starters …” Nancy cleared her throat. “What caused the rift between you and your sister? Obviously, Maggie cared enough for you to leave you some money, more than she left your brother in fact.”

Gladys took a seat on the couch. The tortoiseshell cat that was there jumped off, barely surviving being squashed by her bulk as the cushions sank in. “You think ten-thousand dollars is a lot? It’s peanuts compared to what my sister won in that magazine contest.”

Cathy had the irrational thought that Gladys Broom would’ve liked ten-thousand peanuts even more.

“If Maggie wanted to donate money to your rescue center, that’s fine, although I think she could’ve contributed to a more charitable cause.” Gladys looked toward Cathy who had taken a seat in the chair across from the couch. “But why I didn’t at least get this house is an insult. I would never have lived in it, of course, and I don’t know how much it would sell for on the market once it was cleared of all the cat litter and fur. Still …” She waved a chubby hand in the air.

Nancy pretended to sympathize with her. “I know that’s rough, Ms. Broom, but your brother Brody wasn’t left the house either.”

“That was no surprise to me. Maggie never got along with him. Neither did I. He was the youngest, the baby. Our parents gave him everything and what did he do, he squandered every penny they gave him on drugs and booze. He’s a loser.”

Cathy knew Nancy, who was still standing but leaning on the arm of Cathy’s chair, had to draw Gladys back to her question. She did so like a seasoned reporter. “It’s a shame when siblings don’t get along. I have a younger sister in college in Florida where my parents live now, and we always manage to stay in touch. Did you and Maggie always not get along, or did something happen that split you two up?”

“We never got along.” Gladys stared ahead at the blank TV screen. “Maggie was always the pretty one. All the boys flocked to her. I was the chubby baby sister and then the fat teenager and, finally, the obese adult. She knew she had her choice of men and, even when she dropped them, they weren’t interested in me. I never went to my high school prom. I never had a date for any social occasions. The more I thought about how unfair it was that she got the beautiful genes, and I got the ugly ones, the more I stuffed my face with food.”

“Did you ever seek counseling to help you?” Nancy asked. “You know there are men who would like you. Not all men are after looks.”

Gladys laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I spent ten years in therapy, but it made no difference. Do you pick up a book with a lousy cover or one that is gorgeously illustrated?”

When Nancy seemed to have trouble replying to that, Cathy decided to chime in. “Ms. Broom, it sounds like you had a hard time standing in your sister’s shadow. Was there any particular man you wanted who Maggie got instead?”

“Taylor Briggs,” Gladys said without hesitation. “The man who Maggie married.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“What?” Nancy’s mouth widened in surprise like Cathy’s. Neither of them knew that Maggie had ever been married.

Gladys laughed that strange mirthless cackle again. “Yes, it’s true. She wasn’t married long and never had any kids, but she wed Taylor back when we lived in Connecticut. When they broke up, Maggie started obsessing about cats. She became as crazy about them as I am about food. Your sheriff tells me that when she moved here, people nicknamed her the Cat Crazy Lady.”

“Did you tell Leroy about this Taylor Briggs?” Nancy asked. “If he knew about your sister’s inheritance, he might be her killer. The husband is always the first suspect.”

Gladys waved away the cat that was trying to jump up on the couch again. “I doubt that. I told the sheriff that Maggie and Taylor split on good terms but agreed to go their separate ways. That was over forty years ago. For all I know, he may be married with a family now.”

Cathy had a follow-up question of her own. “Why did they break up in the first place? You said your sister was so depressed afterwards that she began hoarding cats and never married anyone else. She must’ve still been in love with him.”

“I can’t answer that. I hadn’t been in touch with Maggie in a long time either. All I know is that her cat obsession began before the breakup. She took strays in even when we were young. Taylor said they could only have two cats. She wanted five or six, so she dumped him. Then she decided to add twenty.”

“So, she broke it off?” Cathy could see the wheels turning in Nancy’s mind.

“That’s right. When I found out, I tried to comfort Taylor, but he ignored me like all the rest of Maggie’s discarded men.”

“That’s quite a story,” Nancy said. An orange cat like Hobo had walked up next to her, and she bent down to stroke him along the neck. “Do you have any idea where Taylor might be now?”

“Nope, and I don’t care. The police asked for his last address which I gave them. According to the landlord, he moved away about a year ago and left no forwarding address. That’s what the sheriff told me when he called me back for further questioning, but I had nothing else to tell him.”

Nancy gave a last pet to the orange cat and glanced at Cathy. “I guess you can check the cats now and leave out more food if you want. You can look around the house with me while she does that, Ms. Broom. Thank you for your time.”

Cathy was surprised Nancy wasn’t asking more questions, but she did as she suggested, leaving her to give Gladys a tour of her sister’s house.

When Cathy was satisfied all the cats had enough fresh water and food, she joined Nancy and Gladys back in the living room.

“We should be going now, Ms. Broom,” she said. “I hope you got to see what you wanted.”

“Yes. Thank you. Even though I’m not keen on cats, it looks like Maggie took good care of her pets and this house. I’m sorry we never made up.”

Cathy locked up and walked to Nancy’s car as Gladys got behind the wheel of her convertible that had been parked outside. As she drove off, Nancy said, “I’m not sure it was a wise idea to show that woman the house. I was with her to make sure she didn’t touch anything.”

“What are you saying, Nance? Do you think she came looking for evidence of her sister’s killer?”

“That or maybe something that would prove her guilt in the murder.”

“But she said she’d never been in the house before.”

“That’s what I found funny, Cat. While I was taking her around, she seemed familiar with the place.”

Cathy laughed. “That wouldn’t be hard. It’s not a big house. In fact, I considered using it as another rescue center instead of selling it, but there really isn’t that much room.”

Nancy still seemed to have her thoughts on Gladys’ interest in seeing Maggie’s house. “Do you think we should tell Brian that Maggie’s sister came by while we were here?”

“I wouldn’t. He has his mind on other things right now. The service for Boots is tomorrow. Are you coming?”

“Pauline wants me to cover it for the Buttercup Bugle. What did you make of the revelation that Maggie was married?”

Cathy put on her seat belt as Nancy started the car. “It may not be important, or it could be a significant clue. Either way, we should check it out.”

“I agree.” Nancy was driving toward Cathy’s house. “I need to speak with Pauline, so she can get some info from Leroy that will help us. In the meantime, I’ll drop you off so you can get back to your crock pot. What time should I be over for dinner?”

“I thought I told you I’m bringing the food to Doug and Becky’s because they have more room. I expect to be there by six.”

“Sounds good. I think I need a break from all this detecting work. By the way, thanks for that great question you asked Gladys back there.”

“I didn’t mean to overstep you.”

Nancy laughed. “We’re partners in this, Cat. That’s why I asked you to come in the first place.”

“But how come you stopped questioning Gladys after she told you about Taylor Briggs? I expected you to ask her other things about Maggie and anyone else she might suspect of killing her.”

Nancy pulled into Cathy’s driveway and put the car in park. “A good reporter knows the difference between pumping a source and grilling one. I didn’t want to throw all my questions at her at once. This way, she’ll be more open to speak with me again.”

Cathy found that an interesting technique. She wondered if Nancy might take this amateur investigation to another level by asking her to be the good cop while she played the role of the bad one or vice versa. She didn’t think she was prepared to act out that scenario.

“All right. See you at six at your brother’s house.” Nancy nodded toward Doug’s gate.

Back inside, Cathy checked the crock pot. The chunks of meat and vegetables were simmering in an herb-scented sauce that attracted Oliver who came running into the kitchen. He stationed himself on the floor directly below the pot and looked up at her imploringly with his blue eyes.

Although Florence frowned on giving Oliver scraps, Cathy was a softie when it came to the Siamese. She spooned some of the sauce on top of the meat but, before placing the lid back on the pot, she scooped out a small piece of beef, put it on a plate for the cat, and let it sit to cool while he paced impatiently. After testing the meat to see if it wasn’t too hot and cutting it into even smaller pieces, she lowered the plate to the floor in front of Oliver. “There you go, but that’s all you’re getting. It’s hard enough that we’ve added three people to dinner.”

After feeding the cat, she glanced at the crock pot timer. Another two hours to go. What could she do in that time? The house was empty without Florence. She considered making a special dessert. Even though she’d purchased several pounds of stew meat, she was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. Doug, despite being so skinny, ate like a lumberjack. Becky was eating for two, and she was sure Steve and Michael had decent appetites. Nancy was no picky eater either.

Cathy walked to the small pine bookshelf hanging over the counter that her grandfather had built for Florence to store cookbooks. She pulled out the one that her grandmother used to record her homemade recipes. Florence used dividers to label the types of food – appetizers, main courses, desserts, snacks. She paged to the red tag labeled desserts and read through the neatly printed index-cards that even included photos her grandmother had taken of the finished products. One dessert caught her eye. The lemon meringue pie. The airy peaks of white seemed to float off the page. Underneath the photo, the pie was labeled, “Light and Luscious Lemon Pie.” She’d never made a lemon meringue pie before, but she knew her grandmother altered ingredients in the original recipes for every dish she cooked. Scanning the ingredients, she searched the cupboard to see what was available. Florence, an expert organizer, always restocked any item after it was used, so Cathy was relieved that she was able to round up all the fixings for the pie.

At a quarter to six, when the crock pot timer rang and Cathy had finished preparing the pie and salad, there was a knock at the door. When she answered it, she was surprised to see Steve standing on the doorstep. Instead of his gardener’s outfits of old jeans and t-shirts, he wore a white linen shirt and black slacks. His blond hair was neatly brushed, and his blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at her, exposing his dimple. Her heart skipped a beat at how handsome he looked.

“Hi, Cat. I know I’m early and you told me to meet you next door, but I thought you could use a hand with the food.”

Cathy was glad for the help. She’d anticipated having to make more than one trip or calling Doug to come by first. Taking a breath and swallowing to control her beating heart, she said, “Thanks, Steve. Come on in. I’ll show you what I’m bringing.”

He followed her to the table where she’d placed the salad bowl, unplugged crock pot, and pie plate. He had to duck his head under the low archway to get through.

“Wow! This looks delicious and smells it, too.” He whiffed the air, his blue eyes shining in approval.

Cathy felt herself blushing at the compliment. “It was fun. I used Gran’s recipe for the lemon meringue and some of her fresh herbs in the meat sauce.”

“I can’t wait to eat it. I think I can handle the crock pot and the salad if you can manage the pie.”

“Are you sure? We could make another trip, or I could get Doug.” Cathy couldn’t imagine her brother carrying a heavy crock pot full of stew and vegetables, but she knew he was stronger than he looked. Steve, on the other hand, had developed muscles from his gardening work. His upper arms rivalled weightlifters.

“I’m fine.” He looked toward the crock pot. “Is that still hot?”

“No. The heating element is inside. Just to be safe, you can use these potholders.” Cathy passed him a set of her grandmother’s Mary Engelbreit oven mitts. Her heartbeat that had settled down, quickened as they touched hands. He slipped on the mitts that were snug around his large fingers.

She controlled her voice, but it still came out a bit squeaky. She hoped he didn’t notice. “Sorry, those are tight.”

“No worries. I’m only wearing them for five minutes.” He picked up the crock pot and then balanced the covered salad bowl on top. Cathy grabbed the pie, and they headed to Doug’s house.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Doug answered the door at Cathy’s knock. “Hey, Sis. Becky’s just finishing her nap, but she should be up soon. Let me help you with that.” As he took the pie, he noticed Steve standing behind her. “Hello, Steve. You can bring that into the kitchen.”

Cathy wondered why Max and Millie hadn’t greeted her along with her brother as they usually did. When she asked where they were, Doug explained they were confined to a back room because they got too excited by company.

As Doug put the pie in the refrigerator, Steve placed the crock pot and salad bowl down in the places he indicated. The table was already set with the China and silverware Becky’s mother had left her. There were also two lit candle tapers on either side of the long rectangular table. The gold tablecloth featured a spring pattern of tulips and pansies along its sides.

“This is very nice,” Steve said. Thanks for having us and thank you, Cat, for cooking the dinner.”

Cathy smiled as Doug placed a ladle next to the crock pot and servers by the salad bowl. She was glad he had these items on hand because she’d forgotten them. There were also six glasses on the table and pitchers of soda and water.

“Have a seat. I’m going to check on Becky. Nancy and Michael should be here soon.”

“Don’t wake Becky yet,” Cathy said. “We can wait until she’s up.” She knew that Nancy, as usual, would make her late entrance.

When Doug left the room and Cathy and Steve were seated next to each other, Steve said, “I don’t get many opportunities to eat a home-cooked meal, so this is a treat for me.”

“I’m glad.” Cathy recalled their date the night before and how things hadn’t ended as she’d hoped. She found herself at a loss of words while they waited for the other guests. Luckily, Nancy arrived at that moment. Since Doug was still checking on Becky, Cathy opened the door to them. She was surprised to see that it wasn’t Michael accompanying Nancy but Brian.

“Michael got tied up at the animal hospital, so I asked Brian to come,” Nancy explained, stepping into the house.

“That was nice of you. I’m glad he could make it.”

Brian smiled at Cathy. “I’m still depressed over Boots, so I’m glad to get to out of the house. It seems so empty without her even though I have other pets.”

“It takes time to get over the loss of a pet,” Nancy said. “It took me two years before I was over Popeye, and now I have Hobo.”

They followed Cathy into the kitchen and took the empty seats across from her and Steve. Doug returned then with Becky at his side. She still looked tired despite her nap, but her green eyes glowed as a smile swept across her face. “This looks wonderful. Thank you so much, Cathy, and all of you for coming. It’s like we’re having a family gathering.”

Doug pulled out a chair for his wife. “Pretty soon, we will be, honey. Us and our four kids.”

Becky laughed. “Let’s take one baby at a time, please.”

Nancy who’d taken the seat closest to the crock pot, helped pass it around along with its serving spoon. The salad was passed in the opposite direction. Doug, as Cathy had anticipated, took heaping portions of both. Becky took a larger serving of salad and vegetables and only a few small pieces of meat.

“Aren’t you going to have more stew than that?” Cathy asked. “You’re eating for two.”

Becky rubbed her tummy. “If baby wants more, I’ll take another serving later.”

Doug passed the pitcher of Coke around and then the one of water. He also passed around a bucket of ice. The ladies all chose water, and the men soda. Cathy knew Doug kept some wine and beer in the refrigerator, too, although Becky couldn’t drink.

The conversation around the dinner table included the usual topics – the beautiful springtime weather in Buttercup Bend, the new clothing shop that opened downtown that Nancy said had lovely fashions at a decent price, and the current showings at the Buttercup Theater. When those subjects were exhausted, Nancy asked Brian how the investigation was proceeding into Maggie’s murder. Cathy imagined her friend and fellow sleuth had planned to broach this topic from the start. She had considered bringing it up in a discrete way.

“The only lead we have so far is Brody. Leroy would arrest him immediately if he had any evidence but, personally, I don’t think he did it.”

“What about Taylor Briggs?”

Cathy found herself drawing in a breath at Nancy’s question, but Brian didn’t look surprised. “How did you find out about him? Pauline, right?”

Nancy nodded, giving him the impression that was the case. Cathy was glad she didn’t mention their run-in with Gladys at Maggie’s house.

“Maggie’s ex is a ghost,” Brian continued. “It’s like the guy dropped off the Earth.”

“Do you have a photo of him?” Doug asked. “If he’s involved, maybe someone’s seen him in the area.”

Brian shook his head. “Taylor seems to have shunned cameras. He eloped with Maggie, so there were no wedding photos, and his Facebook photo is a cartoon caricature.”

“What about his driver’s license photo?” Steve asked.

“Leroy was able to get a copy of that from the DMV, but it was taken years ago and is a poor image. It may not resemble him much. My driver’s license looks nothing like me.”

“Can I see it?” Nancy asked. “Would you be able to get it from Leroy to show me?”

Cathy expected Brian to deny the request because police evidence had to be kept confidential. Instead, he replied, “I’ll try. Maybe tomorrow after Boots’ service. Leroy has a few hours off when he goes to church with Pauline. I know where he keeps the picture. I can borrow it for a few minutes and bring it to your house, but I’ll have to make sure to get it right back to the evidence drawer. On the other hand, it might be easier for me to take a photo of it with my phone and text it to you.”

“I’d rather come with you,” Nancy said. “Would that be okay?”

Brian considered. “I guess so if you’re that eager. I just have to make sure none of the other officers are around when you come by.”

“Are the sheriff’s men still providing security around the inn?” Cathy asked. She hadn’t seen any Buttercup Bend police cars or what might be unmarked cars in the neighborhood lately.

“Leroy’s given up on that,” Brian explained. “Even though he’s still concerned about Brody, he can’t afford to keep men on a lookout 24/7. He does send someone on a quick patrol near the inn once a day.’”

Becky put an end to the conversation by saying, “I think that’s enough talk about murder. Let’s finish this delicious dinner and return to more pleasant topics.”

After they ate and finished dessert, Doug took out a Monopoly game, set himself up as banker, and challenged them to a match. Cathy hadn’t played Monopoly since she was a kid, and she found herself losing after landing in jail several times. Nancy laughed. She’d bought up all the railroads and also owned Park Place. Brian took Boardwalk and the electric and water companies. Steve managed to secure several key properties and even built hotels on them. Becky was doing almost as poorly as Cathy as she kept landing on Chance and Community Chest and being sent to other player’s properties where she had to pay rent. Doug kept rolling doubles, passing Go, and collecting two-hundred dollars until he had a wad of play money cash.

The game continued for several hours. The last two players with money and property were Nancy and Brian. Doug suggested they call it a tie when Becky began yawning, but Nancy insisted that she would be the winner if they finished the game. Brian, seeing that they’d overstayed their welcome, told Nancy that she had more money and valuable properties than he did and that he was conceding his defeat.

Nancy smiled. “Such a gentleman. Thank you, Brian. Good game.” They shook hands, and everyone began packing up to go.

At the door, Doug thanked Cathy again for all her work. Steve helped her carry out the empty crock pot and salad bowl. Even though there’d been more stew left, Cathy had insisted that Becky and Doug keep the leftovers, although she took a goodie bag for Oliver. There was not even a crumb left of the pie.

Next door, Steve brought the dishes in, and Cathy directed him to leave them in her sink so she could wash them. It was already eleven o’clock, but she wanted to tidy up before her grandmother came home. She wondered how the date had gone and what time Florence would be back.

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll see you tomorrow. Gran said you’re coming at nine. Is that right?”

“I’ll need to start a little early. I’ll probably be over around eight, but don’t worry about waking up. I’ll just let myself into the cemetery and dig Boots’ spot. Brian already told me he wanted her under the willow tree.”

“It’s so sad. I know Brian was closer to Boots than his other pets. She gave him many happy years.”

Steve nodded. “I had a cat like that when I was a kid. He ran out in the street and was hit by a car. I never got over that and that’s why I don’t have any pets today.”

“I know how you feel, but there are so many animals that need good homes. Just like your friends and relatives, you have to treasure the time you have with them. They have so much to give us. One day, when you’re ready, you need to pick up a kitten or puppy from Rainbow Rescues. Look at Nancy. She never thought she’d have another cat after Popeye.”

Steve changed the subject. Cathy knew she’d touched upon his sore spot. “Can I help you with the dishes?” he asked.

Cathy was surprised at the offer. She was about to decline, but he walked over to the sink and turned on the water. “I’ll rinse, and you dry. I’m a bachelor, Cat. I’m used to doing housework.”

She joined him with a dishrag and watched while he ran water and dish detergent over the crock pot lid and base and then scrubbed it with the brush in the tulip-shaped holder on the counter. There were also some plastic gloves there. She thought about asking him to put them on but then noticed how calloused his hands already were from gardening.

“You know, I meant to apologize about last night.” He was concentrating on cleaning the crock pot and wasn’t looking at her.

“Apologize for what?”

He passed her the clean parts of the pot and then started on the salad bowl. “There was something I wanted to tell you after the dance, but your grandmother was there.”

Cathy felt her heart begin to race again. She glided the dish towel over the crock pot. “You can tell me now. We’re alone. Gran said she’d be late tonight.”

Steve turned off the faucet and passed the salad bowl to her. When their hands touched, she felt a jolt of electricity. She saw him jerk as if he’d felt it, too, and then his face was lowering toward hers. Their noses touched, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. But just as his lips were about to meet hers, she heard Nancy call out, “Cat, are you there? I need to speak with you.”

She and Steve jumped. Cathy nearly dropped the salad bowl on the floor as Nancy stepped through the door that had been left open. “Sorry, did I interrupt anything?”

“No. I was just helping Cathy with the dishes,” Steve said, turning from the sink. “I was about to leave, but I’ll be back early for Brian’s cat’s memorial service.” He smiled at Cathy. “I had a nice night. Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

When he left, Cathy sighed. “You really need to improve your timing, Nancy. I think he was going to kiss me.”

“So sorry, Cat, but this is important. After Brian took me home, I drove back here on my own because I have a big problem.”

Cathy became concerned at her friend’s worried expression. “Come sit in the living room with me and tell me all about it. I’ll try to help if I can.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

When the two women were seated on the couch, Oliver came over. Cathy thought he may have been upstairs sleeping in his usual spot on her bed because he hadn’t come into the kitchen when she’d brought in his bag of stew meat.

“Now you show up, Oliver. You’ll have to wait for your snack while I talk with my friend. If you’re patient, you’ll get the meat right after I speak with Nancy.”

Oliver looked at her through his big blue eyes, but she was determined to ignore him. Turning her back on the cat, she went back to Nancy. “Are you okay? Tell me what’s bothering you? Was it something that happened at Doug’s house? You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I had a great time. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s Brian. Do you recall that I dated him a few years ago?”

Cathy had nearly forgotten that Brian was one of the men Nancy had discarded when he’d begun getting serious about her, but they’d remained friends after the breakup. “Yes, I remember, Nance. Did he say something that upset you when he took you home?”

“No. He was very nice.” Nancy placed her face in her hands. “Cathy, I thought I was in love with Michael, but now it’s like I still have feelings for Brian. I’m going to see them both tomorrow. What do I do?”

“There’s nothing to do, Nance. Just act your regular self. You aren’t engaged to either of them. Why not play the field like you used to? I remember you were quite the flirt. What’s changed?”

Nancy laughed, but Cathy could tell she was still upset. “I think I’m beginning to grow up. I’m looking for someone I could be happy with and whom I can make happy. What about you? How do you feel about Steve?”

“Well, if you hadn’t walked in on us.” She rolled her eyes mimicking her friend’s favorite gesture. “Actually, I’m not sure. I like him. I think he likes me. We both need to give it time.”

“You’re right. I’m just afraid Michael will ask me out again, but Brian won’t. I mean I burned the guy. Why would he play with my matches again?”

Now Cathy had to laugh. “Don’t be silly. If Michael asks you out, go. If you want to see Brian, you ask him out. Test them each. See which one works best for you.”

“You sound like I’m trying out a car. It’s not that simple, Cathy.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. Look at Gran. She went all the way to New York City with a man she hardly knows. Doug was upset over that, but I figure she should know what she’s doing at her age. Howard seems like a nice enough guy, but they may not hit it off. At least she’s giving it a shot instead of staying home and mourning my grandfather. You have no excuse. You’re young, beautiful, and unattached except for Hobo.”

“Sounds like you’re talking about yourself and Oliver.”

“Hmm. That’s true. Hey, you want to sleep over tonight? Gran said she’d be late, and even with my brother next door and Oliver in my bed, I’m a little nervous about being alone in this house at night.”

Nancy considered the offer. “Sounds like fun. We could have a pajama party. Got any popcorn we could pop and a dirty movie for your DVD player?”

“Yes to the popcorn. No to the movie. We could move the extra twin bed from the guest room into mine. Will Hobo be okay alone tonight?”

“I left plenty of dry food out for him, and I’ll head back early so I can change clothes and be ready in time for Boots’ memorial service. Do you have any pajamas I can borrow? I think we’re about the same size.”

“I’m sure I do.”

After Cathy fed Oliver the stew meat and he was in her good graces once again, Nancy helped Cathy move the guest cot into her bedroom. The women sat munching popcorn and chatting like two teenagers.

“Why don’t we make a real party out of this and do our nails or something,” Nancy suggested.

“I don’t have any polish, and I think we’ve made enough mess with the popcorn. Although Gran doesn’t care what I do, I like to keep my room neat.”

Nancy screwed up her face, but she checked around the cot for any popcorn kernels that may have fallen from her bowl. “Party pooper. I have another idea. Do you have a pad and pen?”

“On my desk.” Cathy started to retrieve the items, but Nancy jumped up and grabbed the small notepad on the desk under the window and a pen from the Cathy cartoon mug that housed a few. The mug had been a birthday gift from her a few years ago. She sat back down on the cot facing Cathy. “Okay. These are the rules for the Rating Game. We rate the three fellows – Michael, Brian, and Steve in a few categories from one to ten. Then we tally up the scores to see which one scores the highest.”

Cathy shook her head. “That sounds crazy, Nance. I’m tired. Why don’t we just shut off the lights and go to sleep?”

“Are you afraid to try it? I dare you to play.”

Cathy thought Nancy was acting childish, but she knew how stubborn her friend could be. “Okay, but after this, lights off. Agreed?”

“Sure.” Nancy placed the nearly empty popcorn bowl on the floor, picked up the pad and pen, and jotted something. “Let’s start with looks. How do you rate Michael, Steve, and Brian? I’ll start.” She smiled. “Michael wears glasses, but they give him that smart, sexy look. I picture myself running my fingers through his wavy hair, and those blue eyes are to die for.”

“Nancy, I thought you were only rating them. Why all the commentary?”

“It helps me validate the score. All right, let’s see. Considering those factors, I’d give Michael an eight. That’s a pretty good score considering I almost never give a ten. Your turn, Cat. How do you rate Michael on his appearance?”

Cathy sighed. She was growing bored as well as tired. “If you insist, I think he’s nice looking. I’d probably give him an eight, too.”

“Don’t copy me.”

“I’m not. Who’s next?”

“Brian. You rate him first.”

“Geez, you’re making this hard. Brian’s cute, too.”

“Ah, cute, but not handsome. Do you like men with mustaches?”

“Stop it! I don’t want to give him a lower score than Michael.”

“But you have to be fair. Remember, there are two other categories.”

“Very well. I’ll give him a seven.”

“Excellent. Brian wears glasses, too, but they make him look nerdier than the ones Michael wears, and his brown eyes are tiny behind them. I’d rate him a six. Now on to Steve.”

“Wait a minute. Wouldn’t I be biased if I rate Steve?”

“No, but I go first this time. I don’t happen to care for blond men, but he pulls that look off nicely. I also love his height. I’m very attracted to tall men. That dimple of his is awesome.” Nancy sounded as though she was swooning. “A nine and a half definitely.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Sorry, I got carried away. Go on. Rate Steve.”

“I wouldn’t say Steve is handsomer than Michael. I’d give him an eight, too.”

“Very good. You were honest.” Nancy wrote the scores on the pad. “Now we move on to brains. How smart do you think these guys are?”

“Nancy, I’m really getting tired. Do we have to keep playing this crazy game?”

“It’s almost over. You don’t have to explain your scores if you don’t want to. Start with Michael again.”

“Michael’s a vet. He has to be a ten.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t have as much street smarts as Brian or Steve. I would give him a seven. What do you give Brian?”

Cathy hated to admit Nancy was right. In her opinion, Brian, who was second in command under the Sheriff, was more street smart than any of the three men. “I’d give Brian an eight.”

“I’d give him an eight, too, and I’d give Steve a seven. What about you?”

“Gardeners aren’t dumb, Nancy. Steve majored in horticultural science at the university. He should be at least an eight like Brian.”

“If that’s what you think. Our last category is personality. How friendly and nice are the three men? I go first with Michael. He’s a nice guy but a bit aloof. Sort of like Hobo. I’d say he’s a six.”

“Hmmm.” Cathy considered that was the lowest score Nancy had given anyone. “I’d rate him higher. He knows exactly what to say in some tough situations, like when he has to advise us to euthanize one of the pets at Rainbow Rescues. I’d give him an eight.”

“Fine. What do you rate Brian?”

“Brian is a friendly guy, but he can be somewhat shy. I’d rate him an eight, too.”

“I’d give Brian a nine. I like his sense of humor. I’d rate Steve a seven. He’s shier than Brian and, no offense, but he comes across stuffy and a bit boring at times.”

“Not to me,” Cathy said. “I’d give Steve a nine and a half. He has a better sense of humor than Brian in my opinion.”

Nancy jotted down the final scores. “Now let me tally these up.” As Nancy calculated, Cathy lay back against her pillow and began to close her eyes.

“Wow, these scores are sure close. Wake up, Cat.”

“I’m up, but I’m about to fall asleep, so make it quick.”

“Steve is the winner with forty-nine points; Michael is next scoring forty-seven, and Brian is just a tad behind the two with forty-six. But wait. Those are our combined scores. Do you want to know how we rated them individually?”

“Not really, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Of course, I will. Hold on.” Nancy went back to her notes. “Wow! These are even more revealing. Listen to this. Your highest score went to Michael at twenty-six. My highest score went to Steve at twenty-three and a half. Your lowest score went to Brian at twenty-three, and my lowest score went to Michael at twenty-one. We both scored Brian twenty-three. What do you think that means? Am I more attracted to Steve than Michael or Brian? Do you like Michael more than Steve?”

“Those scores mean nothing.” Cathy got up and went to the switch by the door. “I’m turning off the lights. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Sorry I upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me. Now go to bed.”

Cathy turned away from Nancy toward Oliver who had quietly sneaked in and hopped up next to her pillow. “I’d score you a ten,” she whispered into his soft fur.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Cathy awoke to the sound of rain tapping at the window. Oliver was no longer at her side, but when she turned over, she saw a form under the covers on the cot across from her. She’d almost forgotten Nancy had stayed the night.

“Nancy, wake up,” she whispered, checking her alarm clock. It was almost seven, and Steve would be there soon. She hoped the rain wouldn’t get too heavy. The only pet memorial service her grandmother had ever cancelled for weather-related issues was when a winter storm brought two feet of snow to Buttercup Bend the day before Mrs. Baxter’s poodle was scheduled to be buried. Her grandmother now advised those who lost pets in the winter to make use of their cremation vault. Thinking of her grandmother, Cathy realized she must’ve come in during the early morning hours and was probably in bed next door. “Get up, Nancy” she repeated to the sleeping form. “I think Gran is home.”

Nancy stirred, opening one eye a slit like Oliver often did when he was awake but too lazy to rise.

“Nancy!” Cathy said a little louder.

Her friend tumbled out of bed right over her popcorn bowl.

“Oh, no.” Cathy got up, wrapped a robe around herself and began cleaning up the mess. “Look at all these kernels. I don’t want Gran seeing my room like this.”

“Don’t get so excited,” Nancy said, yawning. She wore the hooded pink cat onesie she’d borrowed from Cathy. “I didn’t even hear your grandmother come in last night, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind us having had our girl party. You said she doesn’t care what you do in your own room.”

“She doesn’t, but I care.”

“I’m glad you do. Your parents taught you the value of keeping a clean room.” They both stared at the doorway where Florence stood. She was still wearing her date dress.

“Gran, did you just come in now?” Cathy was shocked.

“No. I’ve been home several hours but didn’t get much sleep. I was going over all the details of the memorial service to make sure it was all set, and I heard you two chatting late into the night. Whose idea was the popcorn?”

Nancy gulped. “Sorry about that, Mrs. Wilson. I was just about to help Cathy clean it up.”

“It looks like she’s already done that. I’m going to change and meet Steve outside. It’s drizzling but that will make his digging easier. I’m also putting on some coffee and making breakfast if the two of you want to join us. The least I can do is feed the man since he never charges us for the cemetery work, only the caretaking of the plots.”

Cathy felt a bit awkward thinking of having breakfast with Steve after what had almost happened between them the previous night and the scores she and Nancy had given him. “Thanks, Gran, but Nancy has to go home to feed Hobo and change. She’ll be back later for the service.”

“I think Hobo will be fine for a few more hours,” Nancy said, “If you have something else I can borrow, Cat, I’d be happy to have some breakfast with you. Thank you.”

After Florence went downstairs, the two women took turns showering. Nancy changed into a dark blue dress that fit her better than it did Cathy, and Cathy wore her black pants set with a white scarf decorated with dark pawprints. It was the one accessory she wore regularly to pet memorial services.

Downstairs, Gran and Steve were sitting at the kitchen table. Scrambled eggs and Florence’s version of home fries with fresh pepper slices and onions were arranged on plates in front of them. Breakfast plates were waiting for Cathy and Nancy.

Steve smiled when he saw them, and Cathy imagined it was directed at her. Despite her inadvertently scoring him lower than the vet in Nancy’s game last night, she felt a flutter in her stomach when he glanced at her over his coffee cup.

“Good morning, Steve,” Nancy said, taking the seat across from him.

“Hi, Nancy. I guess you stayed over last night.”

“Yes. Cathy and I had a sleepover party.”

Steve scooped a few of the eggs and hash browns onto his fork and wiped his face with the napkin next to his plate. Checking his watch, he said, “Sorry to rush out on you ladies, but I need to start working on Boots’ grave. The pastor will be here soon.”

Cathy knew that Pastor Green liked to arrive early for the memorials. He had assigned an assistant pastor to handle the normal church services that Sunday.

“Well, don’t be shy about asking for seconds later,” Florence said as Steve headed for the back door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“That’s the least I can do, Steve, and don’t be so formal. You know I don’t mind you calling me Florence.”

Gran cleared Steve’s plate and then took the seat he left. The three women sat talking about trivial things as they watched Steve digging the grave under the willow tree that was visible from the kitchen window. The light drizzle hadn’t stopped, but Steve had donned the yellow rain poncho he’d brought with him in case the rain increased.

“How is Brian holding up?” Nancy asked broaching the subject of the burial.

“As good as can be, I guess,” Florence said. “It’s always hard to say goodbye to a beloved pet, and he and Boots were very close. I’m glad Michael is driving him here. He’s going to need a lot of support today. Although he requested a small group for the service, Pauline and Leroy will be joining us, and I invited Howard to come by later, too. Becky and Doug have donated some flowers for the memorial, but they won’t be able to make it.”

Cathy wasn’t surprised that Brian’s boss and his girlfriend would be at the service, but she didn’t understand why Howard would attend unless things between him and her grandmother were moving faster than she imagined. “How did it go last night, Gran? How was the play?”

Florence’s gray eyes lit up, but Cathy wasn’t sure it was from the memory of the Broadway show or what had happened between her and Howard. “It was wonderful, Catherine. You should go some time with Steve. Make a day of it and visit some of the sights in the City. Maybe Nancy and Michael can go with you, too.”

“Sounds like a double date,” Nancy said. “That would be fun. We should ask them. What do you think, Cathy?”

“I don’t know. It’s a long drive, and they’re pretty busy.”

“We could take the train,” Nancy suggested, “and although they work weekends, I’m sure they can fit in some time for entertainment.”

Cathy was glad this topic of conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. Florence went to answer it and led Pastor Green into the house.

“Good day, Herb. Steve is outside digging the grave. Please come in for coffee. My granddaughter and her friend are in the kitchen having breakfast. I can put on more eggs for you if you’d like.”

“No, thanks, Flo. I’ve been up since five, and Lorraine made me a huge meal. She always says breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

As he entered the kitchen, he nodded to Cathy and Nancy. “Good morning, ladies. I have a job for you two if you can help.”

Cathy had brought her nearly empty plate to the sink along with Nancy’s. She turned around. “Sure, Pastor. What do you need?”

“I need two readers for prayers after I deliver my short sermon before Brian says a few words about Boots.”

“We’ll be glad to help,” Nancy said. The pastor handed them each folded papers he took from his suit jacket pocket.

The bell rang again, and Florence let in Michael and Brian. The vet held the hook of a closed black umbrella while Brian carried the small gold pet casket he’d selected from the stock at the pet cemetery. Cathy knew that the inside was lined in velvet with a blue satin pillow. A wave of sympathy flashed through her at the sight of Brian’s pained expression.

The Pastor took the two men aside while Florence suggested Cathy and Nancy check on Steve.

As they walked toward the Willow, Nancy said, “This is very hard on Brian. Did you notice how sad he looked?”

“How could I miss it? He loved Boots very much, and he has to say goodbye to her. At least until they’re reunited on Rainbow Bridge.”

“Do you really believe that poem? I hope it’s true because I’d love to see Popeye again.”

“You will, and I’ll see Floppy, too, and all the cats I’ve had since childhood.”

Steve was standing by the rectangular hole, his shovel at his side. “I think that should do it. Does it look deep enough?”

Cathy nodded even though she found it hard to look too long at the plot. After five years of working with her brother and grandmother and observing dozens of pet burials, she still wasn’t used to seeing the final resting place of the animals. “Yes. Good job, as usual.” She wiped a strand of wet hair from her face. The drizzle was becoming stronger.

“I think your grandmother better get a start on the ceremony,” Nancy said, “or we’ll all be drenched.”

Cathy didn’t think Brian would mind getting drenched. As he approached with Florence and Michael, she watched him wipe his eyes and knew he was clearing his tears and not the raindrops.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

They gathered in a circle, a small group of friends, to pay tribute to Boots, the black and white female cat that Brian had adopted from Rainbow Rescues four years ago as a senior cat of twelve. While older pets were hard to place in homes because people knew they wouldn’t have them long or be saddled with vet bills as the animals aged, Brian had fallen in love with Boots the second he saw her. She had become his sweet little girl. When she’d developed cancer, he’d spent the bulk of his assistant deputy’s salary on the surgery Dr. Graham had advised against. As predicted, the tumor in her stomach grew back in less than a year and spread to her chest. But at least Brian had tried. Realizing he could do nothing to stop her suffering but euthanize her, he had made that tough decision that pet owners dread.

As the raindrops increased in number and size, the sheriff and Pauline pulled up in Leroy’s cruiser. They joined the group. Florence, who usually opened the memorial services, hesitated even though Pastor Green was giving her the cue. Cathy realized she was waiting for Howard.

After a few minutes, Leroy said, “What are you waiting for, Flo? I need to get back to the station. I don’t trust Joe to be there alone for long. He has a habit of digging in my drawers for my chocolate stash.”

“Don’t worry, Leroy. I’m just waiting for Howard. He should be here soon.”

“Who’s Howard?”

Pauline replied for Florence. “Don’t you remember? He’s the nice man who Flo met at the dance Friday night. He certainly knew how to square dance.” She winked.

“Oh, that guy.” Leroy placed a hand on his head and pushed back a strand of his red spikey hair that had flattened in the rain. “Now I recall. He looked familiar to me, and I was trying to place him. Is he from around here?”

“No,” Florence said. “He lives in a neighboring town. I saw him last night, and he promised he’d be here today, but maybe you’re right and we should get started.” She released the pastor’s hand and walked to the front of the group. “Thank you all for coming today to put Brian’s beloved Boots to rest at Rainbow Gardens.” She glanced toward Brian who was sniffling quietly. “Pastor Green is here to say a few words.”

After the Pastor spoke and Cathy had taken a quick photo of him by the pet casket for Nancy’s article, she and Nancy read the prayers they were given. Steve helped Brian lower the casket into the ground and cover it with dirt. Florence placed the lilies that Doug and Becky donated on top of the grave and called for a moment of silence as the rain suddenly stopped. Pastor Green distributed candles to each member of the group and Pauline who’d volunteered to light them, used a long torch lighter to do so. Cathy thought it was a sign from heaven as a ray of sunshine fell across the grave and a rainbow appeared in the sky. As each person blew out their candle, Brian walked to the willow. He had prepared a poem in memory of Boots and recited it with choking words as tears fell down his cheeks.

There’s a spot next to my pillow that's bare.

Boots always used to sleep there.

She loved me to stroke her chest.

Of all my cats, she was one of the best.

She was a pretty tuxedo cat.

There was no doubt about that.

Although I only had her four years,

I can’t help shedding so many tears.

But she’s out of pain now on Rainbow Bridge waiting

for me

with my other special cats who one day I’ll see.

“That was beautiful, Brian,” Florence said, hugging him.

“So sorry for your loss,” Pauline said, hugging him as Florence stepped away.

Cathy and Nancy hugged him next. Pastor Green and Steve shook his hand in turn. He thanked them all.

Florence invited everyone back to the house for coffee and muffins. Leroy declined, saying he had to get back to the station and that Brian should take the day off. Pauline said she had some things to do after Leroy dropped her home. Steve had a gardening job.

So, it was just Cathy, Nancy, and Brian who went back with Florence. Brian had at first said he needed time to be alone, but Florence convinced him to join them. “Misery loves company,” she said. “Boots wouldn’t want you to mourn alone without your friends. Did you see that rainbow? It was a sign from her. There’ll be others in the days to come if you watch for them.”

Cathy wondered why Howard hadn’t shown up as he’d promised. She worried that the date that Florence had enjoyed so much had not been as enjoyable to him. As Florence brewed the coffee and placed a tray of muffins on the table, Cathy saw the same concern in her eyes.

They sat awhile and talked about Boots. Brian shared some happy memories, and Florence gave him a photo she’d taken the day he’d adopted her. She’d found it in the album she kept of all Rainbow Rescue adoptions.

“Thank you so much,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

Florence passed him a small cloth to clear his glasses. “Don’t hesitate to come by and visit Boots any time you want. I’ve asked Steve to place new flowers there after the lilies die, and you can bring others, too, if you’d like.”

Brian stood up. “Your kindness means so much, Mrs. Wilson, but I’d like to leave now.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Nancy offered. Cathy recalled that she’d asked Brian last night to show her the photo of Taylor Briggs after the memorial service. She had hoped her friend would not pursue this, but it looked like Nancy was being her stubborn self.

“You take care,” Florence said to Brian as he walked off with Nancy.

“Excuse me, Gran. I’ll be right back.” Cathy met them outside. “Are you still going to the station?” she asked Nancy.

“Yes. We need to identify Maggie’s husband as soon as possible.”

“But Leroy said Brian should take the day off. He’ll be suspicious if he sees him come in, and I think Brian needs to be alone right now.”

“That’s okay.” Brian said. “I promised Nancy. Leroy may have left for church with Pauline. If not, I can always tell him I forgot something there and asked Nancy to drop me off since I had ridden to your grandmother’s with Steve. It might be a bit tricky getting her into his office, but I’ll find a way to distract him.”

Cathy sighed. Maybe helping Nancy play detective would take Brian’s mind off Boots for a few minutes, she thought. “Well, good luck.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Nancy said as she opened her car door for Brian.

As they drove away, Cathy couldn’t help but think that even though Nancy’s matchup game showed a different result, her friend and Brian made a nice couple.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

When Cathy went back in the house, Florence was putting out food for Oliver. As was his custom, the Siamese was splashing his paws around in his water fountain.

“Oliver, you’re making a mess,” Florence said.

Cathy laughed. “I’ll clean it up, Gran, and take care of the dishes, too. You had a busy morning.”

“Thanks, Catherine. I should get back to crocheting Becky’s baby blanket. The shower is Tuesday.” That was only two days away.

“Who are you inviting, Gran?”

Florence smiled. “I’m inviting most of the Buttercup Bend ladies – Pauline, of course, you and Nancy, Lorraine Green, Joan Dexter, Sandra Barry, Phyllis from the baby store, and Mildred Hastings. The only person I didn’t send an invitation to is Gladys Broom, but I’m thinking of hand delivering one to her tomorrow.”

Cathy was shocked. “Why would you invite Gladys? She won’t be in town long, and she hasn’t made any friends here. She probably won’t come.”

“We can still ask. She may be around longer than you think, and there’s no reason we should exclude her.”

Even though Cathy doubted Gladys would accept her grandmother’s invitation, she knew she couldn’t talk Florence out of making the gesture. She smiled her agreement as her grandmother went upstairs to crochet. She began cleaning up the dishes from breakfast and the ones left from the memorial. As she ran water over the plates and scrubbed off some egg, she couldn’t help thinking of Steve’s rough hand touching hers as they worked together at the sink and what might have happened if Nancy hadn’t walked in on them the night before.

Cathy was so wrapped up in her imaginings that she hardly heard the house phone ring. By the time she got to it, it stopped. She assumed her grandmother had picked it up upstairs. She hoped it wasn’t news of another grieving town resident requesting a memorial service for their deceased pet because often these requests came close together. It could also be someone who wanted to bring a stray to Rainbow Rescues, but those calls usually went to Doug and Becky’s phone.

A few minutes later, Cathy learned who the caller had been as her grandmother joined her in the kitchen, a wide smile lighting up her face. “Howard just called, Catherine. He apologized for not making the service, but he woke up with a bad headache. He’s feeling better now and asked me to go shopping and to lunch with him at Woodbury Commons. I may not finish Becky’s blanket in time. Even if I do, it would be nice to get her a few other things for the baby.”

“But what about Little Darlins, Phyllis’ store on Main Street? They have beautiful baby items at great prices. Why do you have to go all the way to Woodbury Commons?” The outlet center was about an hour’s drive away.

“I’m sure they have more of a selection, and the sun’s out now. It’s a nice day for a drive.”

She couldn’t argue with her grandmother’s enthusiasm despite the fact she found it strange that all her dates with Howard were out of town.

It wasn’t long before Howard pulled up in his car and Florence, waiting for him on the porch, practically ran to greet him. Cathy waved as they took off, still not feeling good about the situation. It was then that her cell phone rang. Checking the caller, she saw it was Nancy. She’d nearly forgotten that her friend had gone to the police station with Brian after Boots’ memorial service.

“Hi, Nance. What’s up?”

“Cathy, are you sitting down?”

“What? Why?” Cathy had not yet gone back inside and was still standing on the porch.

“If you’re not, have a seat. I have something shocking to tell you.”

Even though Cathy knew how dramatic her friend could be, she complied by sitting on the porch rocker. “Okay. I’m sitting. Now what happened? Did Brian kiss you?”

“This is serious, Cat. I managed to get a glimpse of the photo of Taylor Briggs. I’m texting it to you now. Tell me who it looks like.”

Cathy waited a second while the image came through. It was a DMV photo and wasn’t the clearest shot, but she recognized the man immediately. “Oh, no. It can’t be, Nancy.”

“I’m afraid it is, Cat. Howard Hunt is Taylor Briggs.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Cathy couldn’t believe it. Her grandmother was dating Maggie Broom’s ex-husband.

“Does the sheriff know about this?” she asked when she’d digested the information.

“Yes. We had to tell him. They have an APB out on Howard. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“He was just here. He took my grandmother to Woodbury Commons. Is she in danger?”

“She could be. I’ll tell Leroy, and he’ll send some men out there. Why don’t you come here, and we can ride with him? I’m sure Florence isn’t going to take this well.”

Cathy was already running inside and grabbing her purse. “I’ll be right there. Don’t leave without me.”

When Cathy pulled up at the police station, Leroy and Pauline who’d been there when Nancy ID’d the photo, had already left, but Brian and Nancy were waiting for her in a second police car.

“I’m so sorry,” Nancy said as Cathy ran to the car where she stood signaling to her.

“It’s not your fault. I knew something was wrong when Howard, I mean Taylor, kept asking Gran to go out of town on dates.”

“He must’ve been afraid Gladys would recognize him and spread the word,” Brian said opening the back door of the cruiser for Cathy. Then he went around to the passenger side and opened the door for Nancy before he got behind the wheel and started the car.

“I still don’t understand it,” Cathy said as they drove away. “What does Howard want with my grandmother? If he killed his ex-wife, why would he bother coming back here?”

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Nancy said, “but there must be a reason.”

They sped away. Nancy insisted Brian put his pedal to the metal and turn on his siren to catch up to Leroy. Cathy noticed how excited her friend appeared. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright. She looked like she was enjoying this adventure, while it seemed unreal to Cathy who yet also felt thrilled by the chase.

“Does Florence have her cell phone with her?” Nancy asked over the whirring of the siren.

“Yes. Gran always carries her cell in case of an emergency.”

“Good. I think you should warn her. Leroy said he was calling ahead to the authorities in Woodbury. They may have already gotten there.”

Cathy took her cell from her purse. “What do I say? Your boyfriend is an imposter, and he may be a murderer?”

“That’s not a good idea. Let’s just try to get there as soon as possible.”

“I’m driving as fast as I can, woman.”

Nancy laughed. “Have you ever been in a car chase, Brian?”

“No, and I don’t regret it. Now sit still, and we’ll get there when we get there. By the way, do you know where in the Commons they might be?”

“Gran said she was hoping to buy some baby gifts for Becky’s shower next week, so I guess they’d be headed for one of the baby stores.” Cathy did a Google search on her phone for the Woodbury Commons store directory. “She may have gone to Carter’s.”

“Good detecting, Cat. That may give us an advantage over Leroy.”

Cathy hoped Nancy was right. She knew the sheriff wouldn’t handle matters as delicately as Brian.

When they turned into Woodbury Commons, Brian shut the sirens. The parking lot was extensive, but he followed the signs directing them to Carter’s and a few other stores. Cathy was relieved to see no police cars by the entrance they entered.

“We may be in luck,” Nancy said as the three of them scurried from the car. “That is if Howard, I mean Taylor, actually brought Florence here.”

Cathy didn’t want to consider another possibility. She strode to keep up with Nancy and Brian who were a yard ahead of her. Nancy’s long legs helped her match Brian’s brisk strides. For an officer, he had to keep fit, and it showed by how quickly he reached the mall door. He held it open for Nancy and waited until Cathy rushed in catching her breath.

“This way,” Nancy called directing them to the right and the huge teddy bear that stood in the window of Carter’s baby store.

Cathy couldn’t help but notice the stares of the shoppers they passed on their way as they observed Brian’s uniform. She tried to ignore those thoughts as they entered Carter’s. The front of the store was clogged with baby strollers and pregnant women. Brian politely edged his way through the maze of crying infants and toddlers. Nancy was at his back, and Cathy was two baby strollers behind.

When they finally reached the rear of the store, Cathy was relieved to see her grandmother browsing through a rack of infant onesies. Howard was looking on in boredom. Cathy saw Brian touch the gun at his side, but she knew it was only a safety measure. As he stepped forward to confront her grandmother’s imposter boyfriend, Florence looked away from the baby clothes and spotted them. She smiled. “Cathy, Nancy, what are you doing here? Brian, is there some trouble?”

Brian nodded at Cathy, and she thanked him with her eyes as she answered her grandmother. “Gran, there’s something you need to know. Can you please come with us? You, too, Mr. Hunt.”

Florence raised her eyebrows in puzzlement, but Howard complied immediately. “Come, dear. It looks like we’re in big trouble. Did you leave the toaster on when you left the house?” He joked.

The mothers were too absorbed in their shopping and infants to notice them exit the store. They walked in single file. Nancy led the entourage. Brian took a place behind Howard, and Cathy walked behind her grandmother.

When they were out in the mall, Brian took control of the situation. “Mr. Hunt, there are some questions we need to ask you back at the station.”

“What is this all about?” Florence asked.

Howard remained calm. “I have no objection to answering any questions you might have.”

Cathy put a hand on her grandmother’s arm. “It’s okay, Gran. Let’s go. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Uh, oh,” Nancy exclaimed as they were about to head to the car. Approaching them from the other side of the mall was Leroy and three police officers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Leroy rushed up to them. “Good going, Brian. Have you made the arrest?”

“Arrest? Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Florence asked breaking away from Cathy and standing by Howard. “We were just shopping. Brian pulled us out of the store and said he had some questions for Howard.”

Leroy ignored her. “Put your hands behind your back, Mr. Briggs,” he instructed, taking out his handcuffs and standing behind Howard.

“Mr. Briggs? You have the wrong man, Leroy. This is Howard Hunt. Howard, tell him who you are.” Florence’s voice rose.

“Gran, calm down.” Cathy tried to get close to her again, but she shrugged her off. “Tell me, Howard. Who is Mr. Briggs?”

As Leroy cuffed him and began reading him his Miranda rights, Howard lowered his head and said, “I’m afraid that’s me.”

Brian was miffed at Leroy. After the sheriff led Taylor alongside the three other officers from the mall to his squad car, Brian murmured under his breath, “There was no reason to cuff him. He was going along willingly.”

Florence, still in a state of shock, followed Cathy to Brian’s car. Nancy and Brian sat up front while Cathy helped her grandmother into the back.

“I can’t believe it,” Florence said as they drove to Buttercup Bend and Brian filled her in on Taylor Briggs. “Do you really think Taylor killed Maggie? He wasn’t mentioned in her will. No one in town even knew she’d been married before. What makes even less sense is why he would come back under a false name and show an interest in me.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilson,” Nancy said. “We don’t know what Taylor planned to do, and we’re sorry that you got involved with him.”

“I hate to admit it, but Leroy may have been right,” Brian said, “about the killer’s motive, not his identity. If Taylor’s guilty, then Brody’s innocent.”

“I doubted Brody killed Maggie,” Cathy said. “Mrs. Barry at the inn was convinced he didn’t do it, either.”

“Wait until Pauline hears about this,” Nancy said. “It’ll be on the front page of the Buttercup Bugle.”

Cathy thought that comment was unnecessary and was glad her friend hadn’t asked her to snap a photo of Taylor being led away by Leroy. She watched as her grandmother winced, squeezing her hands tight. The rest of the drive home was quiet.

After Brian let Cathy and Florence out at their house and said he’d drop Nancy on his way back to the station to report in with Leroy, Gran busied herself with household tasks. She fed Oliver and finished cleaning up the dishes Cathy had left after rushing out.

“You didn’t have to do those. I would’ve taken care of them.”

“I’m sure you would’ve, Catherine, but I need to do things right now to take my mind off Howard. I’m going upstairs to finish Becky’s blanket and then I’ll do a load of wash.”

Cathy didn’t miss the fact that Florence referred to Taylor using his false name. “Okay, Gran. I’ll find something to do, too. I have a book I’ve been meaning to read. I’ll probably go sit out on the patio with it.”

A few minutes later, Cathy tried to absorb herself in a Nora Roberts romantic suspense novel as she sat on the porch swing, but concern over her grandmother made it difficult for her to concentrate. The buzz of her cell phone was a welcome distraction. As she glanced at it, she saw Nancy’s name on the display.

“Yes, Nance. What’s up?”

“Reporting here from the Buttercup Bend Police Station.”

“I thought you went home.”

“No way. If I did that, Pauline would never forgive me. I had to cover the story for her and get the full scoop on Taylor.”

“Did he confess? Did he kill his ex-wife?” Cathy’s heart hammered in her chest waiting for her friend’s reply. She prepared herself for the worst. If Taylor had killed Maggie, it would be a terrible blow to Florence knowing she’d dated a killer.

She could’ve screamed at the silence as Nancy pulled one of her dramatic pauses. Finally, her friend said, “He’s been released, Cat. He has an alibi.”

“What?”

“Taylor told Leroy and Brian that the reason Maggie left him was not only because of his limit on cats but because he was an alcoholic. He straightened himself out a few years ago and had attended one of his regular AA meetings the night of Maggie’s death.”

Cathy tried to process this new information. “Then why did he lie to Gran? Why did he use a false name?”

“He didn’t explain that, although there’s no law against using a pen name which he said it was. It turns out his middle name is Howard, and Hunt was his mother’s maiden name.”

“That’s strange. What else did he say? It’s hard to believe his meeting with my grandmother was coincidental.”

“That’s about it. He threatened to press charges against the police department if they pursued the allegations against him regarding Maggie’s murder. I have no idea what he intends to do about Florence. If I were to make a guess, I’d say she won’t be hearing from him. He’s probably left town for good.”

Cathy sighed. “I don’t know if I should tell Gran about this. She’s very upset.”

“Pauline will probably call her. Leroy cautioned her not to print this in the paper. An arrest without any evidence wouldn’t make him look good.”

“I think it would be better for me to break the news.” Cathy stood up from the swing and lay her book down open to the pages she was up to. Mildred would reprimand her for bending the spine of the paperback, but the bookmark had fallen out somewhere and this was a book from her own collection. “I’ll talk to you later, Nance. Thanks for the update.”

“No problem. Remember, we’re still investigating. I’m not ruling Howard out. He was pretty sleazy to lie to your grandmother. Even though he has an alibi, he could’ve hired someone to snuff out Maggie.”

“Goodbye, Nancy.” Cathy disconnected the call before her friend could continue. She hurried inside and up the stairs, hoping she’d get to Florence before Pauline.

The door to her grandmother’s bedroom was open. Florence sat in her rocker, but she wasn’t crocheting. She held a burnt orange skein of yarn in one hand and a handkerchief in the other.

“Gran,” Cathy said softly as she entered.

Florence wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “I can’t seem to finish this.”

Cathy knew that wasn’t why she was crying. “Maybe you need to give it a rest. Why don’t we go out somewhere? It’s turned into a nice day. We could walk to the park and feed the ducks in the lake.” When Cathy visited Florence as a child, that was one of her favorite things to do with her grandmother. She hoped, by getting Florence to leave the house, she’d miss Pauline’s call and would cheer up a bit.

Florence smiled through her tears. “You’re absolutely right, Catherine. I can’t sit around here feeling sorry for myself.” She placed the yarn back in the basket by the foot of the rocker and stood up. “Let’s get out in the sunshine. We can talk as we walk.”

On the way out, Cathy quickly put together a bag of breadcrumbs for the ducks. Buttercup Park was only a few blocks from their house. Cathy noticed her grandmother perking up as she breathed in the fresh air. Her tears had dried, and only a slight redness around her eyes hinted at her prior sadness.

“Did you have something to tell me, dear?” Florence asked as they strolled down Main Street in the direction of the park.

Cathy didn’t want to break her grandmother’s improved mood, so she said, “You first, Gran.” When Florence hesitated, she added, “Age before beauty.” That made her grandmother’s smile grow wider.

“This brings back memories, Catherine. Janet would take you and Douglas over and leave you for the weekend so she and Philip could have some time to themselves, and she knew I loved having you both here. William liked to play baseball with Douglas in the park while you and I fed the ducks.”

They’d arrived at the entrance to the park and walked through to the benches that lined the lake. “Shall we?” Florence asked, taking a seat on one that faced the clear water. A few ducks with their ducklings and one white swan swam close to the edge.

Cathy joined her and opened the bag of bread. Tossing a few crumbs into the water, she watched the ducks and swan dive to retrieve them. Her grandmother laughed. “Sometimes I wish you were five again and I was still a young woman. I wish your grandfather was over there tossing balls for Douglas to hit.” She gazed toward the batting cage in the distance. “But those days are gone, dear. We have to make the most of today. I made a mistake by trusting Howard. I guess I should call him Taylor now. I wanted to believe he might be the one who could make me happy again, but I knew in my heart he could never replace William.”

Cathy reached out and touched her grandmother’s wrinkled hand. “It wasn’t your fault, Gran. He tricked you, but not because he killed Maggie. He had an alibi for that. He was attending an AA meeting the night Maggie was killed. Nancy called and told me they released him without charges. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from Pauline soon with all the details. It seems he was using his pen name in Buttercup Bend. He may have taken up writing to help him overcome his alcoholism and chose his middle name and mother’s maiden name for the alias he used here.”

Florence looked at Cathy with hope in her eyes, but then the light there dimmed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure he’s gone, and it’s for the best.”

They sat awhile in silence after that as Cathy tossed more crumbs to the ducks and swan, until a man entered the park and took a seat on the bench on the other side of the lake.

“That’s Brody Broom, isn’t it?” Florence asked looking across the water.

“Yes, Gran. I wonder what he’s doing here. He looks upset.” Brody had slouched back on the bench and covered his face with his hands.

“Why don’t you go over and talk with him, Catherine? I’d like some time to myself right now.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? Remember he pulled a gun on Norman Dexter at the square dance.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t loaded. I’ve changed my mind about him. I think he’s a troubled man but not a dangerous one. Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Cathy hesitantly slid off the bench and walked around the lake towards Brody. When she was within a few feet of him, he took a pack of gum from his pocket, opened one of the wrappers, and popped a piece in his mouth. Chewing, he turned to her.

“Cathy Carter, long time no see.”

“Mr. Broom. I’m here with my grandmother enjoying this nice weather. I saw you and thought I’d stop by to say hello.”

He rolled the gum wrapper into a ball and threw it in a nearby green trash bin. “I don’t litta,” he said. “It’s nice o’ you to come by. Wanna sit a minute?”

She was surprised by the invitation. Taking a quick glance across at her grandmother, she saw Florence was still looking in her direction. She sat on the bench leaving as much space as possible between her and Brody.

“I guess you’re wonderin’ why I’m here? I just needed some time to think. I sent Abby home after she bailed me outta jail. I think we’re gonna break up, anyways. No one stays long with a loser like me.”

Cathy didn’t know how to reply to that. She didn’t have to because Brody went on, “I grew up in, whaddya call, an unfunctional home.”

“Dysfunctional,” Cathy corrected.

He nodded. “Yep. Dat’s da word. Sorry, my vocaballery ain’t the best. Anyhow, as I was sayin’, I had a bad home life. Ma and Pa were always drunk. Maggie and Gladys fought like cats and dogs and both of ‘em picked on me. Maggie teased me all the time that I was a worthless piece o’ you know what, and Gladys beat me worse than Pa if I talked back to her and sometimes just because she liked it. I started robbin’ stuff and got high a lot. It was easier than facin’ my family. Then, one day, Maggie ran off with this guy, Taylor. I was twelve at da time. Gladys started beatin’ up on me worse than ever ‘cause she was so mad about dat. Believe me, her punches were tough. She weighed 300 pounds by then, and ya see I’m not a big guy.”

Cathy observed Brody’s thin bone structure, not unlike her brother’s. His pants looked even baggier than the ones he wore the first time she saw him, and she wondered if he’d lost weight since then.

“Anyways, it was hard. Ma and Pa was dead by then, so I was at Gladys’ mercy. I couldn’t take it. When I was fifteen, I ran away to da City. I got into drug dealin’. I ended up in jail a bunch a times. I finally landed some, what ya call menial jobs cleanin’ toilets at jails and hospitals, but I was fired a lot for my absences. I was on unemployment most o’ the time and never even earned a pension. I was thinkin’ about makin’ a new start if it wasn’t too late when I heard about Maggie’s murder. Don’t blame me for goin’ a bit crazy when I learned she didn’t leave me much. I coulda used that money to better myself, go back to school, learn a profeshun. But most of it was left to your rescue place, although I’m glad it’ll help some pets. Maggie wasn’t the only one in our house who liked animals, although I wasn’t crazy over ‘em like her.”

This was a side of Brody Cathy had no idea existed. If what he said was true, he’d been bullied and emotionally and physically abused by his sisters. “I can see why you were so upset when the will was read, but if you’re innocent, the sheriff will let you go home.”

Brody sighed and reached in his pocket for another stick of gum. Holding the wrapper without opening it, he said, “I don’t wanna go home. I wanna stay here. I like this town. It’s not like the City. It’s quiet and laid back and the people are mostly good ‘cept that sheriff who hates me. This is a place I think I can turn my life around, but I’d hafta find a job here. That won’t be easy wit my record and the fact I ain’t got any sperience doin nothin’ but cleanin’. I’m also no young chicken if ya know what I mean.”

“I don’t believe that, Mr. Broom. There must be a job you can do that you’re good at and enjoy. Everyone has a special talent.” Cathy realized she sounded like her grandmother. Too bad she had yet to find her own spot in life, but Brody was old enough to be her father, and he should’ve found his place by now. When he didn’t comment, she added, “What’s your dream? If you could do anything, what type of work would you pursue?”

Still seated, he opened the gum wrapper and put another piece in his mouth as he tossed the wrapper in the trash bin, nailing it dead center. He tugged his goatee as he turned back to Cathy. “Ya really wanna know?”

“Sure.”

He lay back on the bench staring forward at the lake. “Like I said before, I don’t hate cats or dogs or any animals for dat matter. I’m not wild about ‘em like Maggie was, but I like ‘em more than Gladys does.”

“What does that have to do with your dream, Mr. Brody?”

He turned back to her, his watery blue eyes intense. “Everythin’, Miss Carter ‘cause I wanna be a vet.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Cathy didn’t know how to reply. She doubted Brody had even finished high school, and she was well aware of the amount of education and training required of a veterinarian because she, herself, had entertained the idea of becoming one once. That was before the accident that took her parents, her spirit, and part of her face. All that was left was her compassion for animals — the weak and injured ones, the abandoned strays, and those like Hobo who only needed a special person’s love to survive and thrive. Cathy felt that Brody fell into those same categories. He seemed to be hurting and in need of a caring friend.

“I know it’s not possible. Looka me. I’m almost sixty. I should be thinkin’ of retirin’ soon, but I got no money and never worked a job fer more dan a month or two.”

Cathy suddenly came up with an idea. “Mr. Broom, you know you don’t have to be a vet to work with animals. Dr. Graham, our town vet, hires assistants at his clinic. I could ask if he needs help. If you’d like, I’d be happy to bring you there tomorrow and introduce you.”

Brody’s eyes lit up again. “Would ya? Thank ya, Miss Carter. What time should I meet ya?”

“How about I pick you up at the inn at ten o’clock?”

“It’s a date. I mean, dat’s good. I’ll be waitin’ fer ya.”

Cathy smiled. “It was nice talking with you, Mr. Broom. Now I need to get back to my grandmother. See you tomorrow.”

“Stop dat Mr. Broom stuff. Call me Brody. Can I call ya Cathy?”

“Sure, Brody.”

As she walked away, he waved at her, chewing.

Cathy went back to her grandmother who had taken over feeding the ducks and swan. She handed Cathy the bag with the remainder of the crumbs. “Did you have a nice conversation with Mr. Broom?” she asked. “You two were talking awhile.”

Cathy took the bag and sat down. “Sorry that took so long. I found out some interesting things about him, and I’ll be taking him to meet Michael tomorrow.”

Florence raised a gray eyebrow, and Cathy proceeded to tell her what she’d learned about Brody including the abuse by his sisters.

“That’s awful. The poor man. No wonder he’s so mixed up. I hope Michael can offer him a position.”

“I hope so, too, Gran. Should we head home now?” Cathy noticed a few clouds gathering in the sky and worried it might start to rain again.

“Yes, I think we shall.” The two women got off the bench and headed to the park exit. Cathy glanced back to see if Brody was still on the bench, but he was gone.

Back home, Florence told Cathy that while she’d been talking with Brody, Pauline had called her on her cell. She’d invited her to go shopping the next day. “I’m sure she plans to update me about Howard, although you’ve told me all I need to know.” Cathy was glad her grandmother seemed more composed. The day out had done her good.

“It’ll give you an opportunity to finish shopping for Becky’s baby gifts.”

“Yes. Pauline still hasn’t gotten anything for the shower either, and it’s only a few days away. I’m meeting her right after I drop by the inn to invite Gladys. I’m bringing her a pie. Would you want to help me make it?”

Cathy had no other plans the rest of the afternoon, so she agreed to lend a hand. It was like old times again as she assisted her grandmother in the kitchen. As a child, she’d always loved baking with Florence.

When the apple pie was done and they’d cleaned up, Cathy asked her why she was still inviting Gladys and even bringing her a pie after what she learned about her from Brody.

“That was a long time ago, Catherine. People change. I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and I believe Gladys can use a friend. I only regret that I never persisted in making one of Maggie.”

Cathy wasn’t as trusting as her grandmother, but she nodded at her explanation. Florence then went upstairs to finish the baby blanket. She seemed to have a new resolve. Cathy was glad to see it. She wasn’t sure how things would go with Gladys, although she knew the food offering would definitely be a hit with her.

Cathy was about to pick up her novel again when her cell phone buzzed. The caller was Nancy. “Hey, Cat. I called to see what’s going on. How did Florence take the news?”

“Hi, Nancy. She was upset at first which is only natural. We went out, and she seems okay with it now.”

“Did Pauline call her?”

“Yes. They’re going shopping for Becky’s baby shower gifts tomorrow.”

“Oh, right. That’s Tuesday, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Have you gotten a gift?”

“I’m giving her a gift certificate to Little Darlins.”

Cathy figured that’s where Pauline and Florence would go the next day. “That’s very nice of you. I’m giving her some baby toys and a bunch of diapers. I think Gran is looking for a baby stroller as well as some baby clothes. She’s almost finished a granny square baby blanket, too.”

“I’m sure Becky will get plenty of nice things. Your grandmother practically invited all the women in Buttercup Bend.”

Cathy laughed. “Not quite, but she is inviting Gladys Broom. She’s going to the inn tomorrow to personally ask her, and she’s bringing an apple pie with her.”

“Yum. How come I didn’t get a pie with my invite?”

“It’s a peace offering to show that Gran wants to make her comfortable in town while she’s waiting for the sheriff to give her the go ahead to leave.”

“Well, as long as it’s food, I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“My thoughts exactly. Thanks for calling, Nancy.”

“Wait a minute. I called for another reason. Have you done any further investigating on our case?”

Cathy sighed. “I’ve been a bit busy and haven’t given it much thought.” She suddenly remembered her talk with Brody. “I did, however, chat with one of the suspects a little while ago.”

Nancy’s voice raised an octave, and Cathy could almost see her friend’s eager expression over the wireless connection. “Do tell. Who, what, where, when, and why?”

“Gran and I were at the park feeding the ducks, and we noticed a man sitting on the other side of the lake. It turned out to be Brody.” Cathy paused for emphasis.

“Oh, my gosh. Was he with anyone?”

“He was by himself, and he looked sad. Gran suggested I go speak with him. I have to admit I was a bit nervous at first. I kept picturing him pulling a gun on me.”

“Did he?”

“Of course not. In fact, he was very polite. I found out some things that changed my opinion of him.”

“Does that mean you think we can rule him out?”

“I don’t know, but I understand his anger at Norman now, and the fact that his parents were alcoholics may also explain why his sister married one.”

“Maybe he was giving you a hard luck story. Even if his parents drank, why would the three siblings hate one another? You’d think they would stick together.”

“In dysfunctional families that isn’t always the case.” Cathy didn’t know much psychology, but she thought that made sense. “From what I’ve gathered so far, Gladys was jealous of Maggie because she attracted men, and the two of them fought about it all the time. Brody was the little annoying brother whom they abused – Maggie with cruel words, Gladys with punches.”

“Ouch!” Nancy said. “Considering her size, that must’ve hurt.”

“I bet it did. Poor Brody.”

“Sorry, but I still don’t think that makes him innocent.”

“Well, I believe him,” Cathy said and told her how Brody was hoping to make a new life in Buttercup Bend and that she was planning to introduce him to Michael to find out if there was any work for him available at the veterinary clinic.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Think about it. The man took drugs. He’ll be around plenty of them if he works at the animal hospital. Also, the sheriff has a vendetta against him. I almost think Leroy is happy that Howard had an alibi for the murder, so he can put together more evidence to nail Brody.”

“You’re right, but if Michael hires Brody that might make Leroy see him in another light.”

Nancy chuckled. “I doubt that, but I know something we can do to convince Leroy that Brody is innocent.”

Knowing the way her friend’s mind worked, Cathy said, “Sorry, Nance. I won’t flirt with the sheriff.”

“Catherine Lynn Carter, you’re crazy. Pauline would kill us if we even thought about that.”

“Then what are you suggesting? How can we persuade Leroy that Brody didn’t kill Maggie?”

“Simple. We solve the murder ourselves.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Agreeing to discuss their private investigation the next day over lunch after she brings Brody to meet Michael, Cathy said goodbye to Nancy and ended the call. She was about to go back in the house when she saw Florence at the door. She must’ve been standing there a few minutes while Cathy was on the phone.

“Gran, is something wrong?”

“No, dear. It’s getting close to dinner time, and I was wondering what you’d like to eat tonight?”

“I don’t know. We can keep it simple. I wish there’d been some crock pot leftovers, but we all wiped our plates and Doug took seconds, as usual.”

Florence laughed, but a sadness still shadowed her eyes. Cathy knew her grandmother was still upset over Howard. As she entered the house, she said, “I’m sorry about Howard. I know you must feel bad about how things turned out.”

“That’s water under the bridge, as they say. I’m fine. But if you must know, there’s something else worrying me.”

Cathy followed Florence into the kitchen. They sat at the table looking out toward Boots’ plot under the willow. Florence lowered her head as if studying the tablecloth. “When you and Douglas first opened Rainbow Gardens and Rainbow Rescues with the money you were left by your parents, I thought it was a great idea and was happy to lend a hand and have you live here with me especially since your grandpa was gone by that time.”

“What are you trying to say, Gran?” Cathy was afraid she was going to ask her to move out.

Florence lifted her head and directed her gaze toward her granddaughter. “Although I know you’ve done a great job with your business, before I learned that Maggie Broom had left money to it, I was starting to worry that Rainbow Rescues was getting too crowded and that there were very few plots left in Rainbow Gardens. I’m glad you now have the opportunity to expand, and I think the MaGregor Farm down the road that just came on the market would be an ideal location to do that. I know it’s your and Doug’s decision and that the inheritance money is still tied up pending the murder investigation, but I was hoping you could find a way to make a down payment before the place is snatched up. Perhaps Norman can release some of the money to you if you explain the situation to him.”

“Even if Mr. Dexter doesn’t agree to release anything to us yet, I’m sure we can dig up enough to put down on the farm. It sounds perfect and, don’t forget, we’ll also be selling Maggie’s house. I’ve asked Nancy to help me price some of her cat collectibles, and we could get a sizable amount from selling them on our website or maybe even open a gift shop at Rainbow Rescues. Becky had mentioned that idea to Doug last year, but now we have merchandise to sell.”

Florence smiled. “That makes me feel better. You’re so resourceful, Catherine. I wish your grandfather were alive. He’d be so proud of you, as would your mother and father.” She sighed wistfully.

Cathy felt a blush touch her cheeks. She wasn’t good at receiving compliments, so she changed the subject.

“How are the plans going for Becky’s shower? You haven’t told me what you’re putting on the menu. Maybe I can help you cook.”

“That won’t be necessary, dear. I’ve asked everyone to bring a dish.”

“Nice idea. It’ll free you up to decorate and host and is more personal than catering. What about the gifts? What are you planning to pick up at Little Darlins?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure Phyllis will point me in the right direction. She has wonderful items.”

Phyllis Darlin, the owner of the baby store, was a good friend of Florence’s.

“I also just finished the baby blanket, Catherine. Come upstairs, and I’ll show you.”

A little later, Cathy and Florence sat down to a dinner of salad and sandwiches. Cathy had been impressed by the lovely blanket her grandmother had crocheted and was sure Becky would love it. The meal was a quiet one as they both seemed lost in their own thoughts. Cathy was wondering whether Michael would have any work for Brody. She was sure her grandmother, despite her protests about not being upset anymore about Howard, still mourned the broken relationship. Cathy also knew she had to speak with Doug and then, if he agreed with her idea about placing the deposit for the MaGregor Farm, she might need to speak to Mr. Dexter, too. She considered dropping by the post office to talk with Doug after her other appointments the following day.

Cathy helped Florence clear the table of their half-eaten sandwiches. It seemed neither of them had much of an appetite that night.

“I’m going upstairs to watch TV before bed,” Florence said. “Want to join me?”

Cathy sensed the invitation wasn’t heartfelt. Her grandmother seemed to want some time alone. “No. I want to finish my book, Gran. I still have one from the library that I need to return soon.”

“Very well, dear. Enjoy your reading.” She kissed Cathy’s cheek on her way out of the kitchen.

Cathy sat there a few more minutes staring out at the darkening sky. Her thoughts were scattered, like random stars, among the various things she hoped to accomplish the next day. She was also still thinking of her parents and, as she lay down in bed, she hugged her pillow to her, remembering her mother’s voice over the phone that last day and how excited she’d sounded anticipating picking Cathy up from college for the winter break. She’d insisted on going along with Cathy’s father because she couldn’t wait a few more hours to see her only daughter after she’d been away from home for three months. Cathy’s father had also been impatient to see her, tossing her bags into the trunk and giving her a tight hug that nearly suffocated her. Only a few hours later, he’d lost control of the car and slid on the icy roads, hitting a tree, and crashing off the embankment. Cathy recalled very little of what happened after that until she woke up in the hospital, the right side of her face bandaged and throbbing, her brother Doug in the chair beside her, his tired eyes red with dried tears.

Cathy began to cry as Oliver joined her on the bed. As her tears fell on his fur, she whispered, “It was all my fault, Ollie. They died because of me. I could’ve taken a cab home or even a bus.” Seeking to comfort her, as pets are prone to do when they sense their person is upset, Oliver snuggled closer to her and began to purr. As her tears subsided, she fell asleep with her arm around him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Cathy woke to Oliver’s hungry cries for breakfast. At some time during the night or early morning, he’d moved from next to her pillow to a spot on the other side of the bed. Cathy glanced at her alarm clock with bleary eyes. It was five o’clock on Monday morning.

“Okay, Ollie. Give me a minute,” she said as she struggled off the bed wrapping a plaid robe around herself and sliding into her fuzzy pink slippers. The cat followed her down the stairs to his feeding area. Cathy changed his water and opened a can of Fancy Feast that he gobbled up as soon as she’d dumped it in his food bowl.

As Oliver ate noisily, slurping up the food and then dipping his paws in his fountain and splashing some of it over the floor, Florence came into the house. She was already dressed. She jumped at the sight of Cathy sitting at the kitchen table. “Oh, you gave me a scare, dear. I was checking on the pets at Rainbow Rescues. It’s important that Becky gets her sleep now, and it’s hard to get a volunteer over there so early.”

“Oliver woke me. He was looking for his breakfast.”

“Sorry. I would’ve fed him, but he was still in your room when I left.”

“Gran, you really don’t need to get up at the crack of dawn to feed the rescues.” She noted the black circles around her grandmother’s eyes.

“I don’t mind. I couldn’t sleep well last night, anyway.”

Despite her churning thoughts and crying bout, Cathy had managed a full-night’s sleep. “Well, maybe you want to go back to bed now,” she suggested. “I might do that myself. I’m not in the mood for my morning walk today.”

“You go ahead. I have some things to take care of. I need to check the party plans and make sure I have everything I need. I can pick up anything I’m missing on my way back from Pauline’s today.” She opened the drawer under the cabinets and took out a piece of loose-leaf paper on which Cathy assumed she’d written her shopping list.

“I can help with that, too, if you’d like,” Cathy offered.

“That’s okay. I need to stay busy. It keeps my mind off other things.”

Cathy understood her grandmother’s method of distracting herself, so she nodded and headed back to her room after cleaning up Oliver’s mess. The cat, content with his breakfast, followed her upstairs to her room and snuggled with her as she fell asleep again.

A few hours later, Cathy awoke. Oliver was gone, and the sun was shining through her window. She showered, dressed, and went downstairs where she ate a quick breakfast with her grandmother.

“You look much more rested, dear,” Florence said as Cathy poured Cheerios into her cereal bowl along with milk and a sliced banana. She wished she could say the same of her grandmother who still had shadows under her eyes.

“I didn’t have any trouble going back to sleep. Where’s Oliver?”

“He came down a little while ago and is sleeping in his cat bed on the couch.”

When they’d first gotten Oliver, Cathy had chosen a round, beige pet bed that matched his fur color. When he was curled up in it, you sometimes couldn’t tell he was there.

Cathy glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty, and she had to be at the inn to meet Brody by ten. She gulped up the rest of her cereal and drank a last sip of coffee. “I’ll be going, Gran. What time are you headed to Gladys’ house?”

“I’m leaving soon. I have to wrap up the pie and then I’ll be on my way. Good luck with Brody and Michael.”

“Thanks, Gran. Good luck with Gladys and Pauline.” Cathy slipped on her light spring jacket and left the house. It was cool but a nice morning for a walk. She regretted she hadn’t taken the one she usually did at dawn.

Arriving at the Buttercup Inn a few minutes early, she saw Sandra sitting on the porch sipping a cup of tea.

“Hi, Cathy,” she waved as Cathy approached.

“Good morning. I’m meeting Brody. Is he up yet?”

Sandra smiled. “Of course. He keeps late hours, but he’s already had breakfast and is waiting for you in the parlor. Come on in.” She led Cathy into the inn and through the vestibule. Brody was seated on the couch reading the Buttercup Bugle. He put it down as soon as she entered.

“Miss Carter. I’m all set fer my interview.”

Cathy was taken aback by the change in his appearance. The baggy pants had been replaced by suit slacks and a jacket. He wore a striped tie over a crisp white shirt. Even his shoes were new. She didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a meeting, not an interview.

“Doesn’t Brody look spiffy?” Sandra asked. “I helped him choose that outfit. We went shopping yesterday after he told me you were helping him get a job at the animal hospital.”

“That was very nice of you.” Cathy glanced at her watch and then at Brody. “We better be going.” She regretted not having called ahead but thought that it would be harder for Michael to turn Brody down in person than over the phone. Now that he looked presentable, she was cautiously optimistic he would be offered a job.

As they walked down the inn steps, Cathy realized that, in her haste to meet Brody and her desire for a nice walk, she’d forgotten that the animal hospital was on the farther part of town. “Brody, do you mind if we use your car? I’m afraid I walked here.”

Brody smiled his crooked smile, and she noticed he’d trimmed his goatee. Gone was the scraggly graying tuft of hair in the middle of his chin. It was replaced with a dignified salt and pepper partial beard. “Sure thing, Miss Carter. That one’s mine.”

She glanced at the small red convertible. What had happened to his old beat-up car and was she imagining it, or was his English improved?

He took a ring of keys from his pants pocket and unlocked the passenger side letting her in first and then sat behind the wheel. “I traded in my old junk box for this. Mrs. Barry gave me a great deal.”

“This is Mrs. Barry’s car?”

“One of ‘em.” He lapsed back into his poor speech but then caught himself and corrected it. “I mean, one of them. You see, her son Paul got a new car and gave her this one awhile back, but she’s attached to her station wagon.”

“Paul lives in New Jersey, doesn’t he?” Cathy vaguely remembered Florence telling her Sandra had a son from her disastrous marriage who now lived and worked in Newark.

“That’s right. He’s a car salesman believe it or not, so that’s why she was able to give this one to me at such a break. We’re bartering for it. Until I get employment, which I hope is today, I’m working it off doing chores around the inn. When we get back, I’m freshening up some of the paint.” He started the car, and the engine revved. “Can you give me directions, please?”

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Buttercup Bend Animal Hospital. Cathy directed Brody into the parking lot. Her heart sank when they pulled into the only vacant spot left. She had hoped the place wouldn’t be busy, but she should’ve known that after being closed on Sunday, pet emergencies would show up the next day.

“Wish me luck,” Brody said as he held open the glass door for Cathy. Inside the waiting room, a cacophony of barks and meows greeted them. Every seat was taken with worried-looking people, some with pet carriers at their feet, others holding tight to dog leashes. Two women stood at the desk signing people in and out. They looked harried and exhausted. Cathy recognized Christine Phillips and Diane Warren. Christine was around her age and worked at the animal hospital part-time while she attended veterinary school hoping to work alongside Michael when she graduated. Diane was older, a widow in her mid-fifties who’d never had children but had compensated with a houseful of felines that almost rivalled Maggie’s, although she’d never earned the title of Cat Crazy Lady.

Cathy and Brody waited in line. There was no sight of Michael, but she assumed he was in one of the exam rooms with a patient.

When they finally reached the desk, Diane looked up from her check-in book and said, “Hi, Cathy. I don’t see you down for an appointment this morning. I hope Oliver is okay.”

“He’s fine, Diane. I don’t have an appointment, but I’d like to speak with Dr. Graham when he has a moment.”

Diane brushed back a strand of her reddish gray hair that had fallen across her face. “I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time, but I can ask him to drop by Rainbow Rescues later today.”

Cathy looked over at Brody. “Sorry. That won’t work. We don’t mind waiting.”

Diane noticed Brody. “Oh, I didn’t realize you two were together. Okay then. Have a seat if you can find one. I’ll let Dr. Graham know you’re here when he finishes with his next patient.”

“Thank you.” Cathy nodded to Brody. Since there were no seats, they found a place to stand by the door. A few minutes later, Diane waved to them. Cathy was relieved that she’d managed to get them a minute with Michael.

Christine was the one who led them into Exam Room 1. “Dr. Graham will be with you in a moment,” she said rushing back to the front desk and leaving them in the room decorated with photos of cats and dogs and Michael’s veterinary school diploma from the same school Christine was now attending.

Cathy noticed Brody was nervous. He kept stepping from foot to foot as they waited. In what seemed like hours but was in fact only a few minutes, Michael walked through the back door of the room where the offices and lab were located. Unlike the casual clothes he wore when visiting Rainbow Rescues, he was dressed in a white lab coat. A stethoscope hung from his neck.

“Hello, Cathy,” he said. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but it’s very busy this morning.”

“No worries. I’m glad you could find time to see us. I should’ve called first.”

“That’s all right. How may I help you?”

Before Cathy could reply, Brody, who was standing behind her, stepped forward and extended his hand to Michael. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Graham. I’m Brody Broom, and I’d like ta apply fer a job here.” In his nervousness, he fell back on his poor English.

Michael shook Brody’s hand quickly, but Cathy saw his face change. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes flashed a warning signal. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the guy who? …”

Brody lowered his head. “Yes, Sir, but I’m changin’ my ways. I’m lookin’ to start a new life in Buttercup Bend.”

Michael gazed at him as if examining a patient for signs of illness. Then he glanced at Cathy. “Miss Carter, would you mind coming into my office a moment? Mr. Broom, please wait here.” His use of her last name made Cathy aware he wanted to speak to her about something serious out of Brody’s presence.

She followed Michael to the small, cubby-like room adjacent to the lab where he kept a desk on which stood a computer and several file folders labeled with pet names. He pulled out a chair for her but remained standing next to the desk. “I know you mean well, Cathy, but that man out there is wanted for murder, and he pulled a gun on Norman Dexter the other night.”

“Dr. Graham …” She decided to use his full name to make her case. “I found out some things about Mr. Broom. He’s a victim of a dysfunctional family where he was neglected and abused by his parents and sisters. In my opinion and Sandra Barry’s, the owner of the inn where he’s staying, he’s a decent, innocent man who just needs a break. I know you’re shorthanded here. Is there any job you can give him?”

Michael brushed a hand through his wavy hair as he considered her request. “I’ll tell you what,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “My receptionist, Christine, is studying to be a vet tech. I’d like to give her some hours in the lab. If Mr. Broom can man the desk a few hours a day, I could give her time in the back.”

“That’s wonderful. Thank you.”

He waved a finger at her from the hand that had fluffed his hair. “We can try it for a week. I’ll speak to Christine, and we can arrange for him to start tomorrow.”

“You won’t regret this.” Cathy exhaled a breath she was holding in relief.

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“How is Nancy doing? Since the dance, I’ve been too busy to call her.”

“I’m meeting her for lunch today. Would you want to join us?”

“Sorry, but I’m swamped. Mondays are tough. I’ll probably grab a bite of a sandwich at my desk in between patients. But please tell her I’ll be in touch with her soon.”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear from you.” Even as she spoke the words, Cathy wasn’t convinced Nancy would be pleased at the news. She seemed to be more interested in Brian these days. Cathy also thought of the crazy game they’d played and how Michael had turned up her number one in the match between the three eligible men in Buttercup Bend. It made her a bit uncomfortable around him.

When Michael filled Brody in on the arrangement he’d explained to Cathy, Brody shook his hand again. “Thank you, Dr. Graham. I’ll be here tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. sharp.”

“Christine will train you, and Diane will be working with you also if you have any questions, Mr. Broom. Your hours this week will be 9-12. If everything goes well, we can give you additional time.”

Brody smiled his toothless grin. “You won’t regret this, Doc.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Cathy asked Brody to drop her at Nancy’s house which was on the way back to the inn. He whistled as he drove, still riding high on his achieving his goal of employment. “Now I may even be able to give Mrs. Barry some money fer my stay,” he said when they were stopped at a red light on Main Street.

“You haven’t been paying her?”

“No. I’m bartering fer my rent and the car payment, too.”

Cathy found it amazing how Sandra had such faith in Brody after her own trust in men had been betrayed by an abusive husband. She concluded that Sandra must’ve seen something special in Maggie’s brother that others had been blind to.

“Just follow directions, and you’ll be fine, Brody. Dr. Graham is a very understanding and patient man.”

“He must be to work wit animals and even more wit their owners.” He grinned again. “I hope I get ta work wit da pets, too, one day.”

They had pulled up to Mildred’s house. The side door to the basement was open. Cathy had texted Nancy that she was on her way. “You may, Brody, but even working at the desk you get to see all the pets.”

He nodded as she got out of the car. “Have a good day, and thanks again, Cathy.”

She waved as he drove off, feeling happy she’d done a good deed but hoping it would work out for the best.

Nancy was waiting at the door when she got there.

“Hey, Nance.”

“Hi, Cathy. That’s a nice car you were dropped off in. Is something wrong with yours?”

“No. I walked to the inn and then Brody drove me to the animal hospital and dropped me off here after our meeting with Michael.”

“How did that go? Come on in, and we can talk about it.” She opened the door, and Cathy followed her downstairs. “Mildred’s working today, so I have the whole place to myself. I can even use the upstairs, but I don’t usually do that.”

Cathy took a seat on the couch. Hobo was there curled up napping. When he saw her, he opened one eye and then went back to sleep or pretended to. Nancy sat next to him and patted his head. “Hobo just went off for a nap. He recognized you, so he was comfortable enough to nod off again.”

Cathy laughed. “You asked about what happened with Brody. He got the job.”

“Really? Michael hired him? But what experience does he have?”

“None, but he’ll be working at the front desk relieving Christine who can put in some hours in the lab to help her study for her vet tech training. It also gives Michael an extra hand.”

“Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

“It depends.” Cathy heard Hobo begin to purr at Nancy’s touch, although he kept his eyes closed. “Michael’s trying it out for a week. He was a bit reluctant to hire Brody.”

“I don’t blame him. I guess your charms did the trick.” She smiled.

“I don’t think so, but he did ask about you.”

Nancy avoided Cathy’s gaze and kept her eyes on Hobo. “Did he? I’d say it’s a little late for that. He never texted me after the dance, and he rushed right off after the memorial.”

“It’s only been three days, and he’s a very busy man.”

“Texting doesn’t take a lot of time or effort.” Her voice sounded strained. “Anyway, we need to get back on the case. I have a plan. We can discuss it over lunch. I made reservations at the Kafe.”

Cathy always enjoyed eating at the Kafe. The reason the restaurant was so named was because it was owned by the Swenson sisters, Olivia and Hilda, who immigrated from Sweden to New York City when the twins were twenty years old. They later moved to Buttercup Bend and opened the sandwich shop which became the best lunch spot on Main Street. They were single ladies now in their forties. Olivia was divorced; Hilda had never married.

Cathy and Nancy arrived at the Kafe before the lunch crowd, but there were still several people seated inside and a few at the outside tables shaded by pink and white umbrellas that matched the Kafe’s interior décor. Cathy considered the place somewhat of a retro diner. The menu items were eclectic with sandwich fillings that seemed odd but added a unique touch to the flavorings.

When they walked in, Olivia greeted them. The only way they could tell her from her sister was the fact that she wore a name pin on her pink blouse. “Good day, ladies,” she greeted them. “I haven’t seen you two in a while. Where would you like to sit?”

Nancy glanced toward the patio that could be seen through the glass windows at the far side of the Kafe. She turned to Cathy. “It’s a nice day. Would you like to eat outside?”

Cathy nodded, and Olivia led them to a table shaded by one of the old Oak trees that were common in Buttercup Bend. She handed them menus and said, “Hilda will be out shortly to take your orders. The special today is the Kyckling Salad.” She smiled and went back inside.

Cathy glanced at the menu, a plastic board with photos of the items along with the Swedish and English names. Kyckling Salad was identified as chicken salad with cranberries, pistachio nuts, and pickles.

“The special sounds interesting. I think I’ll have that.”

Nancy was scanning the menu. “I think I’ll have the ostburgare. I’m in the mood for a cheeseburger. It also comes with pommes frites.”

“A cheeseburger and fries, Nance? Where’s your sense of exploration?”

“The only exploring I’m in the mood for today is figuring out who killed Maggie Broom.”

“Shhh!” Cathy glanced around at the other diners. Although the tables weren’t close, she was sure they were within earshot.

Nancy lowered her voice. “Sorry, but Pauline tells me that Leroy is on a manhunt for Brody. I may have originally considered him guilty, but now that you’ve told me his story, I’m convinced he’s innocent.”

Before Cathy could comment, Hilda appeared at the table in the same outfit as Olivia, a pencil stuck behind her ear through a strand of her curly blonde hair. She removed it and a pad from the white apron she wore over her pink top. “Are you ready to order, ladies, or do you need more time?”

“We’re all set,” Nancy said trying to pronounce the dish she wanted in Swedish. Cathy had a feeling she’d been unsuccessful, but Hilda simply jotted on her pad and said in the slight Swedish accent both sisters still retained, “Bery gud. Be right out with your food.” She stepped away, and Cathy picked up the conversation.

“So, who do you think did it? Howard?”

Nancy placed her napkin in her lap. “Although it’s true the husband is usually the killer, something tells me it’s not him in this case. My money’s on Gladys. She obviously hated her sister for stealing all her boyfriends. Revenge is a powerful motive.”

“But they were never her boyfriends, and I think she actually regrets having held a grudge against Maggie all these years.”

“Then who do you suspect?”

Cathy looked out toward the street as more people hurried into the Kafe. “Looks like the lunch crowd is starting. We got here just in time.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Cathy turned back to her friend. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue and that’s the problem.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

After Cathy and Nancy’s meals arrived, Cathy wasn’t surprised when Nancy asked for a sample of her chicken salad. She was used to Nancy ordering simple things and then hoping to barter bites from her of more interesting food. “Cat, would you like a piece of burger? I’d love to try some of that salad.”

Cathy smiled. “Of course, you would. I don’t want the burger, but you can have this.” Using a knife to cut part of the sandwich, she placed a portion in the basket that came with their lunches.

“Thank you. If you don’t want the burger, please have a fry.”

“My sandwich came with fries, too, but not the ones you ordered. These are the Swedish equivalent of sweet potato fries.”

“Oooh, can I have one?”

Cathy rolled her eyes as Nancy reached into her basket and helped herself to three of the sötpotatisfries.

They were both too full for dessert, as the portions had been large. Cathy was glad because she could only imagine what Nancy would ask for in exchange for a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a slice of pound cake. At least she picked up the bill but allowed Cathy to leave the tip. When Nancy paid Hilda, the Swedish sister said, “Tank you.” Including Cathy, she added. “Have a gud day, ladies, but be caful. Tere’s a murderer about.”

When they were back in Nancy’s car, she said, “I’m scheduled to work at the paper this afternoon, Cat. Should I drop you home?”

“No. I need to go to the post office. I can walk home from there.”

“Why are you going to the post office? Can’t Doug mail anything for you?”

“That’s not why I’m going. I need to speak to Doug away from Becky.”

Cathy hadn’t told her friend that she’d found out that the MaGregor Farm was for sale and that her grandmother had suggested they purchase it for additional space for their rescue center and pet cemetery.

“I know. It’s about the shower. Men aren’t allowed there, but I guess Doug will be an exception.”

Cathy was glad Nancy had jumped to the conclusion her meeting with her brother was about the baby shower. She preferred Nancy believe that because she didn’t feel comfortable taking about their business venture before she’d worked out the details with Doug. “Yes, fathers are allowed to attend.”

Nancy pulled into the post office parking lot and waited while Cathy got out. A few people with packages were entering the brick building through its glass doors. Cathy got in line behind them as they waited to be helped. It was one o’clock on a Monday and was busy with workers at lunch seeking postage for their letters and parcels. Three postal employees were waiting on customers. Doug stood at the center counter. When he saw her, he placed a sign at the window that it was closed and signaled for Cathy to meet him in the rear offices. Cathy backed out of the queue excusing herself as she bumped boxes and shoulders. When she met up with Doug, he said, “What’s going on, Cat? Is Becky okay? Gran?”

“They’re both fine, Doug.” She was sorry to worry him. “I just needed to talk with you away from them.”

Concern lifted from his face. “Oh, it’s about the party tomorrow, right? I have that all under control. I’m making sure it’s a surprise. I told Becky that Gran invited us to dinner. She doesn’t suspect a thing.”

“That’s not why I’m here. I think you should take a seat.”

Worry returned behind his eyes, darkening them. “I’m fine standing. I have to get back to work soon, so please tell me what this is all about.”

Cathy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I found out that the MaGregor Farm is available, and Gran suggested we put down a deposit for it because it would be a great place to expand Rainbow Gardens and Rainbow Rescues. We don’t have the money Maggie left to our business yet, but I could ask Mr. Dexter to consider releasing some of it. There might even be enough in our savings to cover the down payment cost. I’d need to check with the farm’s realtor to see what they’re asking, but I wanted your okay first.”

“I don’t know why you thought you needed my permission. That sounds like a wonderful idea to me.”

She smiled. “I had a feeling you would agree, but I wanted to be sure. I know you have a lot of things on your mind with the baby coming soon. I’d be happy to help with all the arrangements, but you’ll be needed to sign the papers with me once they’re drawn up.”

Despite Doug’s eagerness to get back to work, he lowered himself to the seat behind the desk that was filled with stamps and postage paraphernalia. “I don’t have any problem with that, but have you considered the other expenses that will be involved in opening another rescue center and adding more cemetery space? We’ll need to hire additional help. The volunteers are spread pretty thin right now. We’ll also need more supplies for the pets — cages, bedding, food. Michael is on a retainer, but we should increase his annual fee, and we’ll also need to pay Steve more for his landscaping services.”

“I’m aware of that. I’ll consult with our accountant about all the financial details. I already spoke with him about the money we were bequeathed.”

Doug looked down at the desk and began thumbing a roll of stamps. “Sounds good to me, Sis. You’ve always been a great organizer.”

Cathy stood up. “Thanks, Doug. I’ll keep you posted on what Mr. Burger advises after I contact the MaGregor’s realtor and see what they’re asking for the farm.” She knew it was prudent to speak with the accountant before approaching the lawyer.

“Great! I appreciate your letting me in on this. I’m not saying a word to Becky about it yet, and I’m sure Gran will keep it quiet.”

As Doug went back to work, Cathy walked home feeling excited about the plans they’d discussed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

When Cathy arrived home, she was shocked when she walked through the door. The living room had been transformed into a baby shower party venue. Pink and blue balloons hung from the ceiling. A banner was strung across the back door with pastel lettering exclaiming “Happy Baby Shower,” and the long buffet table Gran had stored in the garage had been brought out along with fold-up guest chairs.

“Gran, how did you manage all this? I thought I was going to help you set up tomorrow,” Cathy said as she stepped into the room. Florence was in the middle of placing a white tablecloth over the buffet table.

“Sorry, Catherine. I couldn’t wait. There were so many lovely decorations at Little Darlins. Pauline helped me choose these. Can you help me put the other end over?”

Cathy pulled the tablecloth to cover the opposite side. “How did you get this table out of the garage? It’s too heavy for you to lift with your bad back, and I can’t figure out how you hung the banner and balloons by yourself. Did Pauline help?”

Florence smiled. “No. She had to run to work on the paper, but Steve dropped by. He was looking for you. I decided to put him to work.”

“What did he want?” Cathy felt a slight thrill as she remembered their almost kiss Friday night.

“I don’t know, dear. He said he’ll call you. By the way, Gladys loved the pie and accepted my invitation.”

Cathy didn’t know if she should be happy about that. “Did you ask her to bring something like the other guests?”

Florence walked away from the table. “Of course. She had no problem with that. But after I visited her, a strange thing happened. Do you notice anything different about me?”

Cathy hadn’t really looked too closely at her grandmother because her eyes had focused on the changes in the house. Now she saw that Florence’s white hair was pushed back into a different style and her hands on the tabletop displayed neatly buffed and polished nails.

“You went to the beauty parlor!”

Florence grinned like a kid caught with a candy bar. “I hadn’t been there in years, but I thought it would be nice to splurge on myself before the party. After Pauline and I went shopping, I dropped the decorations home and drove to the salon. It really didn’t cost much. Barbara gave me a great deal on a manicure and a cut and style. While I was there, you’ll never guess who I ran into. She came in right after me.”

Cathy didn’t like her grandmother’s guessing games that were as frustrating as Nancy’s. “I have no idea, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

Florence’s eyes twinkled. “Joan Dexter, Norman’s wife. She was having her hair and nails done, too, and was seated next to me. She said she had a day off and decided to splurge on herself. We chatted a bit about the baby shower. She wanted to know what I thought Becky could use. I guess she hasn’t gotten the gift yet. While we were talking, I mentioned that I’d just invited Gladys. She seemed surprised at that and then she told me something very odd.”

Catherine was losing patience with her grandmother. “Go on. What did Mrs. Dexter say?”

Florence gestured to the couch across from them which had been moved to make room for the buffet table. She sat down and waited for Cathy to join her. Then she continued her story in a whisper as if someone else was listening. “Joan said that Norman received an anonymous call at work telling him that Maggie’s will is a fake and that a real one exists naming a different beneficiary.”

“Oh, my gosh! Did Norman report this to Leroy?”

“He has, but they haven’t been able to identify the caller. They think he used a burner phone which is a disposable cell phone.”

Cathy knew all about burner phones from the mysteries she read and saw on TV. “Did Norman know if the caller was a man or a woman?”

“Could’ve been either. The voice was muffled, but Joan said the sheriff suspects it was Brody.”

“When did this all happen?”

“Joan said the call came to Norman’s law office around ten-thirty this morning. He notified her right after contacting Leroy. I was delivering Gladys’ pie around that time, so the caller couldn’t have been her.”

“It couldn’t have been Brody either. He was at the animal hospital starting his job. Michael asked him to come in at nine this morning.”

“Maybe you should confirm he went and then tell Leroy. He’s now even more convinced that Brody killed Maggie.”

Cathy took her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the animal hospital. She was relieved when Brody answered the call. “Good morning, Buttercup Bend Animal Hospital,” he said in cheerful voice.

“Hi, Brody. I’m glad I got you. How are things going? Did you get in on time today?”

“Yes indeed, Cathy. In fact, I was early. I wanted to make a good impression by being prompt. They had to open the doors for me. Dr. Graham said that, if things go well, he’ll give me a key next week.”

Cathy was happy to hear that Brody had begun to earn Michael’s trust. “Well, have a nice day, Brody.”

As soon as she hung up, she dialed the police station, not the 911 emergency number but the direct line that Nancy had given her when she was taking photos for a profile on the town’s police force.

“Buttercup Bend Police Department,” Brian answered.

“Brian, it’s Cathy. Is Leroy there?”

“Hi, Cat. No, I’m afraid he’s on patrol right now. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes. Please leave a message for him or tell him directly when he returns that I’ve spoken with my grandmother about the call Norman Dexter received this morning, and I know that it wasn’t made by Brody Broom.”

“What? No one is supposed to know about that. How did your grandmother find out?”

“She was at the beauty parlor and ran into Norman’s wife.”

Brian sighed. “I hate when people in this town gossip, but if you have an alibi for Brody, I’m sure Leroy should know it.”

“Thanks. Brody was working at the animal hospital at the time.”

“That’s interesting. Why would that guy want to work here after what he did to Norman at the square dance?”

“It’s not what you think. He didn’t mean any harm. He was very upset, and he had his reasons. I can’t go into the story now, but I believe he’s innocent of his sister’s murder.”

“Okay. I’ll tell Leroy. But if the caller wasn’t Brody, then who else could it be?” He paused a second as if thinking and then added, “Whatever you do, don’t mention this to Nancy. We don’t need this getting around town, and it’s our job to solve this case – not you and Nancy Drew.”

Cathy laughed at his nickname for her inquisitive friend.

“I’m serious, Cat. You two shouldn’t stick your noses into this. I don’t want either of you hurt. If the person who made the call really is the one who smothered Maggie, then he or she would have no qualms about killing anyone who gets in their way. Understood?”

“Yes, Brian, but I can’t promise Nancy won’t find out another way.” She was thinking of Leroy speaking to Pauline, the one woman in Buttercup Bend who spread the news faster than the paper she published.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

After Cathy hung up with Brian, Florence said, “I heard part of that conversation, and I agree that you shouldn’t mention this to Nancy. I’m sorry I even told you about it. I’m sure Leroy and Brian are making every effort to get to the bottom of this. You have to trust them.”

“But I’m confused, Gran. If there really is another will, and Brody and Gladys aren’t named in it, then who else would be? Maggie only had two siblings.” As she thought about the Broom family, it suddenly dawned on her. “Wait. Maggie was once married to Howard. Gran, you don’t think … He had an alibi, but maybe he was working with someone.”

She was sorry she’d mentioned Howard by the sadness that touched Florence’s eyes. “That’s certainly possible, Catherine. Even though I thought I was attracted to that man, I’m glad I found out he was dishonest before I became further involved with him.”

“I guess once Leroy learns that Brody was working at the time of that call, he’ll direct his manhunt toward Howard if he can locate him.”

“I suppose so.” Florence stood up. “I’m a bit tired, dear, and we have a big day tomorrow. I’m going upstairs to watch television. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

Cathy knew her grandmother could use the company, so she agreed to binge watch some Netflix shows with her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She was sure Florence’s were as well.

When they’d had enough of silly sitcom, they ate a light dinner of sandwiches again, this time with some homemade vegetable soup Florence had prepared earlier. A second large bowl of it sat in the refrigerator for the dish she was serving at the shower. She told Cathy that Lorraine Green was bringing the main course – her hearty lasagna, while Pauline was baking Cathy’s favorite chocolate mousse cake.

“I have a list of what everyone else is bringing,” Florence said as they sat in the kitchen finishing dinner. “I made sure everything’s included from appetizers to desserts.”

“You’ve done a lot of work on this, Gran, and I’m sure Becky will appreciate it.”

Florence smiled, but it seemed bittersweet. Cathy knew her grandmother was still upset over her supposition about Howard.

That night, snuggled next to Oliver in bed, Cathy couldn’t help thinking about the phone call Maggie’s lawyer had. She’d forgotten to contact the MaGregor’s realtor to ask about the down payment for the farm, but now she thought she should hold off. Was there another will? If so, what would that mean for her pet business’s prospects for expansion? Was Howard now the main suspect? Could she keep this information from Nancy?

She tossed and turned until Oliver got upset and moved to the other side of the bed. She missed stroking his soft fur and relaxing to his purrs, but she couldn’t keep her mind off the current situation. She finally fell asleep and had a strange dream.

She was doing dishes in the kitchen, and Steve was helping her. It was a memory from the night after their dinner at Doug and Becky’s house up to the part where Steve leaned over and was about to kiss her. Then the door to the kitchen flew open. Instead of Nancy interrupting as she had before, Michael rushed through the door. He was wearing his lab coat, and his stethoscope swung as he approached them. “I can’t hire you,” he said to Steve. “You scored lower than me on Cathy’s perfect man quiz.”

Cathy woke up at that point, disoriented and dazed. It was then she remembered that her grandmother said Steve had been by looking for her. Maybe that’s what had triggered the odd dream. That and her visit to the animal clinic with Brody. The subconscious was very good at mixing up details.

She slept soundly the rest of the night without any further dreams and woke with Oliver mewing by her head, begging for breakfast. She assumed Gran was at Rainbow Rescues tending to the pets. She dressed and showered quickly and went downstairs to feed Oliver. She decided to surprise Florence by making eggs and toast for breakfast, but as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, there was a knock at the back door. She thought her grandmother had run out without her keys because, since Maggie’s murder, they were now locking their doors. But when she went to answer it, she saw Steve’s large frame standing on the porch.

“Steve. Hi. I thought it was Gran coming back from the rescue center.”

“Sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you. I came by to check on Boots’ plot and do some weeding. I also helped your grandmother with the party decorations yesterday. I don’t know if she told you.”

“She did, and they look great. Come in. I was about to put eggs on for breakfast. I can make some for you, too. Gran said you wanted to talk to me about something.”

A light red flush appeared on Steve’s tanned cheeks. “Yes. Sorry I didn’t call or come back last night. It’s not super important.” He was beginning to fumble on his words and step from foot to foot.

Cathy led him to the table. “Let me start the coffee. You like it with just a bit of milk, right?”

Steve still looked uncomfortable as he sat in Florence’s chair. When the coffee had finished perking, Cathy brought them both a cup and sat down across from him. “What did you want to tell me?”

The red flush returned as he looked across the table toward her. “We haven’t had much time to talk alone, but I meant to tell you I had a great time at the square dance with you and also at your brother’s dinner. I’d like to spend more time with you if you’re interested.”

Cathy was about to answer when the back door that she’d left unlocked opened, and her grandmother strode in. “Oh, Steven. I thought I saw your truck outside. I see Catherine has made coffee. Thank you, dear.”

“I’ll be making eggs and toast, too, Gran.”

“How sweet, but I can take care of that. You and Steven keep chatting.” Cathy was surprised Florence hadn’t asked him to move from her seat. As her grandmother went to the refrigerator to take out the carton of eggs, Cathy found it hard to resume their conversation. She had a strange, fleeting thought that the reason she and Steve were constantly being interrupted from their discussion of their relationship wasn’t a good sign. She tried to ignore the tiny voice of her subconscious that also reminded her of her dream the night before and was relieved when Steve said, “Is everything set for tonight, Mrs. Wilson? Do you need me to help with anything else for the shower?”

Florence was frying eggs in a pan and had just slipped some slices of toast in their four-slot toaster. “I think we’re good. Thanks for asking, though. You were a great help yesterday.”

Steve glanced back at Cathy as he got to his feet. “I’ll be on my way then. I’m sorry I can’t stay, but I have a few jobs to get to and wanted to check out Boots’ plot.”

“Are you sure, Steven? There’s plenty of food. You need nourishment to garden. It’s tough work.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson, but I had breakfast already.” As he stepped toward the back door, he turned back to Cathy with a short smile. “Thanks for the coffee, Cat. I’ll be in touch.”

Cathy didn’t know whether she felt disappointed or relieved as she watched him leave.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Florence was in a tizzy the rest of the morning cleaning the house again even though it was spotless. She told Cathy that the main rooms that needed to be double checked were the living room where the party would be held, the kitchen where those bringing frozen and refrigerated food would need to store them, and the bathroom where many of the guests would eventually go. As usual, she hadn’t overlooked the tiniest detail. She’d even prepared name tags for people’s glasses which she assigned Cathy to distribute. “One thing I can’t stand, Catherine, is when someone picks up another person’s drink at a party.”

“Have you also created seating charts?” Cathy teased.

“Of course not, dear. People can sit wherever they like. The idea of a party is for guests to walk around and mingle. In fact, I even swept the patio yesterday in case it was a nice evening and people wanted to sit out there for dessert.”

“Stop worrying, Gran. It’s going to be a great baby shower. Don’t drive yourself crazy with planning.”

Florence smiled. “I know you’re right. I just want to make sure the party runs smoothly.”

Gran seemed to have everything well in hand, but Cathy was glad she’d be around in case of any last-minute emergencies.

The shower was scheduled for six o’clock with Doug bringing Becky over at six-thirty, so she’d be surprised. Florence had instructed those driving to park their cars on another block. People started arriving at a quarter to six. The first one there, of course, was Pauline. She looked as though she’d also visited the beauty parlor or styled her white hair herself into an attractive upsweep. She wore a lavender pantsuit and carried a large gift box in one hand that was wrapped in smiling babies and toted a cake carrier in the other. Cathy could hardly see her face when she walked in. “Hi, Pauline. Let me give you a hand with that. I hope you didn’t have to walk far.”

Pauline nearly dropped the box to the ground but kept a firm grip on the cake. “I’m only a block over, Cathy. Does Florence have a place for the gifts?”

“Yes. There’s a gift table next to the buffet table. I’ll put it there. Gran is in the kitchen heating up the soup she made if you’d like to go see her.”

Pauline handed Cathy the large box. “Thank you. I’ll bring the cake in there. I hope there’s room in the refrigerator.”

“Gran made sure there was.”

As Pauline headed for the kitchen, the doorbell rang again. Cathy answered it to find Mildred and Nancy on the doorstep. Mildred was carrying a fruit basket and pulling a rolling suitcase. Nancy held a covered bowl which Cathy assumed was the salad she’d promised to make. When Cathy helped Mildred place the wrapped gifts that were inside the suitcase on the gift table and the fruit and salad on the buffet table, Nancy handed her an envelope. “This is the gift card I told you I was giving Becky,” she said. “I’m sure you figured out those are books.” She glanced at the stack of Mildred’s packages.

Mildred said, “Even though I work in a library, I know the value of having your own books. Those feature nursery rhymes and finger plays.”

“Thank you.” Cathy placed Nancy’s envelope by the gifts. Two more guests arrived — Phyllis from Little Darlins bearing a gift card from her shop and a bunch of Hors d’oeuvres on a silver tray and Joan Dexter with a four-foot Teddy bear and a box of pastries. Next came Lorraine Green with a large pan of lasagna that Florence said she could reheat in the oven. The pastor’s wife gave Nancy a small, wrapped box and a long envelope. “Herb and I gave Becky a gold cross she can wear to the baby’s christening and a fifty-dollar bond.”

“How thoughtful,” Cathy said.

Gladys walked in a few minutes later, crumbs all over her plus-sized dark pants set and plopped a family-sized bag of potato chips on the buffet table. While Cathy greeted her, she opened the bag and began munching from it. She didn’t seem to have brought a gift for Becky. Nancy, noticing, whispered in Cathy’s ear, “See, I knew she only came for the food.”

Cathy shrugged. “It’s no big deal, Nance, but I hope she and Joan Dexter don’t get into an argument. I’m sure she still holds a grudge from the will reading.”

“Don’t worry. She shouldn’t blame Joan for what her husband did. He was only doing his job. Besides, if Gladys should be mad at anyone, it should be Maggie.”

Cathy wasn’t so sure of that when she noticed the expressions Gladys and Joan gave one another and how Joan reacted by moving a few seats away from where Gladys sat.

Florence and Pauline walked in the room at that point. Florence looked around as if doing a head count. “Has Sandra arrived yet?” she asked Cathy.

“No, but it’s only six-fifteen. Maybe she’s running a little late, Gran.”

“I hope she gets here before Becky does. She’s bringing the drinks I plan to use for the toast.”

“Toast? I thought you didn’t want any alcohol at the party considering you don’t drink, and Becky can’t during her pregnancy.”

“Sandra’s not bringing alcoholic beverages. She told me she’d be preparing one of her special healthy smoothies.”

The doorbell rang again, and Cathy went to answer it saying, “That must be her now.” However, when she answered the door, Brody stood there holding a large pitcher of a strawberry-colored liquid and a small, wrapped package.

“Brody, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Cathy. I’m just leaving these off for Sandra. She’s not feeling well and couldn’t make it tonight.”

At first, Cathy was surprised that Sandra hadn’t asked Gladys to bring the smoothie mix. Then she realized that the innkeeper trusted Brody more with delivering the refreshments intact. Before she could take the drinks and gift from him, Florence walked over. “Brody, please come in. We don’t usually allow men at baby showers, but Doug will be here with Becky soon, and you’re welcome to stay.”

Brody hesitated. “I really don’t think …”

Gladys, seeing her brother in the doorway, said, “Look who’s here. Dear brother, come sit with me. Even though you’re staying at the inn, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk with you.”

Cathy felt a rising sense of panic. The last thing she wanted to happen at the party was for these two to get into an argument. Florence just smiled as she took the smoothie pitcher from Brody. “Go on, Brody. There’s plenty of food to go around.”

Brody still hesitated, but Gladys wobbled over to him carrying the half-eaten bag of chips with her. “No hard feelings, brother. I mean it. There’s no reason we can’t mend our bridges.”

Cathy thought she sounded sincere and was relieved when Brody went and sat next to her. The two began chatting.

“Cat, did you see that?” Nancy whispered walking over to her. “What’s up with Gladys and Brody? They’re acting like friends.”

“I have no idea, Nancy. People are strange.” Cathy hoped they would reconcile. Thinking of the will and how Maggie hadn’t left either of them much, she knew she had to be careful around Nancy so that she didn’t let anything slip out about the phone call that alleged another version was in existence.

Florence interrupted her thoughts. “Catherine, please do me a favor and pour this into glasses for each guest, and don’t forget to add the name tags when you pass them around.”

Cathy took the pitcher and went to the kitchen to fill the glasses her grandmother had arranged on the table along with the name stickers. Nancy followed her in. They almost bumped into Joan Dexter. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just putting my pastries in the refrigerator. Do you need a hand with that? I’d be happy to fill the glasses and add those cute labels to them. That was such a great idea.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Dexter,” Cathy said. “I’d like to get back to the party and see if Gran needs anything else.”

“I’ll help Mrs. Dexter,” Nancy offered, picking up the name tags as Cathy placed the smoothie pitcher on the table.

A few minutes later, Nancy carried the drink tray to the buffet table, and Joan helped her place each glass next to the person whose name was written on it.

Cathy was at Florence’s side when she thanked them and announced her plans to surprise. “Now we wait for Doug and Becky. I’m going to turn off the lights and draw the blinds. When Doug knocks, you can answer it, Cathy, and we’ll all shout, ‘surprise.’ Nancy, who is closest to the light switch, can turn it back on.”

Cathy helped her grandmother draw the blinds across the French doors. The window shades were already down. Florence then switched off the lights and everyone became so quiet that the ticking of the living room clock could be heard. Cathy checked the time on her cell phone and looked for messages. It was exactly 6:30 when a tapping sounded at the door.

Cathy hurried to answer it as Florence signaled for everyone to sit. But when Cathy opened the door, Doug and Becky weren’t there. Instead, Howard Hunt stood on the step holding a bouquet of roses.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Am I interrupting something?” Howard fumbled as he looked beyond Cathy to the darkened living room.

“What are you doing here? We’re having a party and waiting for the guests of honor to arrive.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know. Is Florence here? I just want to talk to her for a minute.”

Cathy was ready to slam the door in his face. “You have some nerve, Mr. Hunt, coming back like this at the worst possible time. Go away.”

“Cathy, who is that?” Florence, realizing Becky and Doug weren’t there, had come to see what was keeping her granddaughter. When she caught sight of Howard, she stopped.

“Howard. It’s you.”

“Hello, Florence. I came to apologize for lying to you and to explain my deception, but I see that I’ve come at a bad time. Please take the flowers. I’ll call again.”

“No. Come in, Howard. Thank you for the flowers. We’re waiting for my grandson and his wife. As soon as they arrive, we’re starting the party with a toast to the upcoming birth of their baby. I’d like you to join us and, as soon as everything is underway, we can go outside and talk.” She turned to Cathy. “Catherine, please put these in a vase with water and fill a glass for Howard. I’m sure there’s plenty of smoothie drink left in the kitchen.”

Cathy couldn’t believe her grandmother was willing to listen to a word the man had to say. She felt like screaming, but she took two deep breaths, grabbed the flowers, and followed her grandmother’s requests. With Becky and Doug on their way, this wasn’t the time to start an argument.

When Cathy returned to the living room with Howard’s glass, she noted her grandmother had created another place setting next to hers. She slammed the drink down in front of Howard, nearly splashing some of it on the tablecloth.

“Be careful, Catherine,” Florence admonished. “Where have you put the flowers?”

“They’re in the kitchen. You can place them where you want.” Cathy tried to keep her voice from betraying her upset. She was aware some of the others were eyeing Howard with concealed dislike, particularly Brody and Gladys.

“Are you okay, dear? Your face looks a bit flushed?”

Cathy gritted her teeth. She was saved from a reply when another knock sounded at the door.

“Shhh, everyone. That must be them. Stay still. I’ll answer it this time.” Florence signaled Nancy to get the lights again as she went to open the door.

“Thank you for inviting us to dinner,” Doug said as he entered with Becky. As the couple walked in, Nancy, at her post by the light switch, flicked it on, and the guests all jumped up and screamed, “Surprise!”

Judging by the shocked expression on Becky’s face, Cathy believed that Doug had kept the baby shower a secret from her.

“Oh, my gosh!” Becky looked around the room, her hazel eyes widened in awe as she took in the banner, balloons, and other decorations as well as all the people seated around the party table. Florence led her to the spot reserved for her at the head of the table. A special chair had been chosen with a cushioned back to help support her. Becky flopped down into it as Doug sat next to her on one of the fold-up chairs. As directed by Florence, Nancy had placed two drinks there.

“I don’t know what to say,” Becky exclaimed. “You certainly tricked me, Douglas.” She tapped his arm lightly.

“Good job, Grandson.” Florence smiled from the other end of the table as she stood to make an announcement. Clearing her throat, she said, “Thank you all for coming tonight. In a few weeks, there will be a new member of the Carter family. This shower is in honor of the mother-to-be, my dear granddaughter, Becky.” She glanced toward the other side of the table. Raising her glass, she continued, “Before we have dinner and give Becky our gifts, I’d like to propose a toast to Becky, Doug, and their baby.”

Cathy cringed as Florence clinked her glass with Howard and then with her. She turned to her side and clinked her glass with Nancy. As she did, she noticed that Gladys and Brody had clinked glasses and mused how the siblings finally seemed to be getting along.

After the toast, Gladys got up and headed toward the kitchen. Cathy noted that she carried her half-eaten bag of potato chips that she hadn’t shared with anyone else and held her smoothie glass from which she was still sipping.

As people started filling their plates, Cathy was surprised Gladys hadn’t returned. She would’ve expected her to be first in line to the buffet table. A while later, Brody offered to bring some of the empty dishes into the kitchen. Cathy stood to give him a hand, but Nancy already carried some of the plates and told her to stay and help her grandmother entertain the guests. Cathy almost laughed at the suggestion because the only guest her grandmother seemed to be entertaining was Howard.

Nancy’s scream from the kitchen a minute later was followed by Brody rushing into the room. His eyes were wide in his pale face. “It’s G…G…Gladys,” he stammered. “She was on da floor when Miss Meyers and me came in to put away da dishes.” Tears ran down his cheeks. “She’s dead.”

Everyone looked on in horror, but Pauline pushed Brody aside to get to the kitchen. She told the others to stay back and for someone to call 911. Cathy took out her cell and made the call.

As sirens blared in the distance, Pauline returned, a shaking Nancy at her side. Pauline’s face was grim. “I’m afraid Mr. Broom is right. She’s dead.”

Nancy screamed again, and Florence, who looked as if she was in shock, fainted against Howard.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Everything that happened later was a blur to Cathy. She recalled the EMT’s rushing in and confirming Pauline’s diagnosis and then placing a blanket that barely covered Gladys’ large form over her body as they carried it out on a stretcher. She remembered how Becky collapsed in tears, Doug telling her it wasn’t her fault. Howard had walked Florence to the couch and gotten her a glass of water. And then Leroy and Brian were barging in, ordering everyone to stay where they were because this was a crime scene. Gladys had not had a heart attack. She’d been poisoned.

Questions followed. The first thing Leroy asked was what were Brody and Howard doing at the shower. His beady eyes narrowed on the two men. Brody explained he’d brought the gift and drinks that Sandra had prepared but was too ill to deliver. Howard said he’d come by to see Florence and had no idea a party was taking place.

Leroy whispered something to Brian after hearing these explanations and then asked him to bag all the food that Gladys had consumed and the containers from which they’d come. Brian took her glass and the potato chip bag that was on the floor next to her when she was found. It also looked as though Gladys had snuck some sandwiches and a piece of cake from the kitchen, so Leroy ordered all the food to be confiscated as evidence because who knew what else she’d eaten. In addition, he even asked Brian to take the gifts, promising that they’d be returned as soon as they were checked for tampering.

When Lorraine, Joan, and Phyllis asked to call their husbands to tell them what happened and that they’d be delayed, Leroy told them to wait until he’d questioned them. He asked Florence, who was still in a daze, if he and Officer Fitzcullins could use a room upstairs to speak with each person individually. He assured them it wouldn’t take long.

When Florence agreed to the sheriff’s request, Cathy offered to take the policemen upstairs and find a room suitable for the questioning. As she did so, she remembered she’d left Oliver in her bedroom behind a closed door with his litterbox and food bowls because her grandmother thought it would be too stressful for him downstairs during the shower with so many people around. She was also worried that some of the guests might be allergic or not particularly fond of cats and afraid Oliver would beg for food because he was accustomed to having scraps fall on the floor “accidentally” during mealtimes.

Cathy decided to keep her room closed, hoping Oliver was asleep on her bed which was his normal routine at that hour. She led Leroy and Brian to her grandmother’s room that was neater than hers.

Leroy surveyed the room through his dark eyes. “I guess this will do. Officer Fitzcullins, we can sit on the bed during the interview or maybe one of us should stand. The person we question can sit in the rocker by the fireplace.”

Brian nodded. “Who would you like to see first? Brody?”

“Nah. I’m saving him for last. I need to speak with Mrs. Wilson. She organized all of this, and I need some further details from her.”

“Do you mind if I stay while you talk with my grandmother?” Cathy asked. She was worried about Florence’s condition. Not only had she fainted after Gladys was announced dead, but her face had turned ashen.

Leroy raised a red eyebrow, and she was almost sure he’d dismiss her request, but Brian said, “I don’t see that will do any harm, Sheriff Miller.”

Cathy found it interesting how the two men were using their professional titles when they usually addressed each other less formally.

“All right,” Leroy said, “We can question the two of them.” He turned to Cathy. “Go bring up your grandmother.”

Downstairs, Pauline had taken command as Florence sat on the couch with her glass of water, Howard by her side, looking concerned.

Cathy walked over to the couch. “They want to speak to you first, Gran. Are you up to that?”

Florence nodded. “Yes. I’m feeling a little better, dear.”

“What about Becky?” Doug asked. She was still seated in the guest of honor seat, her head in her hands sniffling short sobs as he handed her tissues. “I don’t see why she has to stay. We didn’t touch a thing when we came, and they can’t seriously suspect either of us. This is so upsetting that it could cause her to go into premature labor. Can’t you ask them to release her, Cat?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Cathy promised. She looked around the room at the others who turned glaring glances at her as if they, too, wanted to be excused.

As she and Florence walked to the stairs, Nancy took Cathy aside and said, “I’m helping Pauline keep everyone calm. Brian asked me to make sure no one left or used their cell phones.”

When they were back in Florence’s room, Leroy asked her to have a seat in the rocker. Cathy sat on the bed while the two officers stood one on each side of the fireplace. She already knew who would be playing the bad cop and who the good in this scenario.

Leroy waved a hand through his hair, in an effort to flatten the flaming spikes. He then cleared his throat and stepped forward two paces. “Mrs. Wilson, I’m going to need a list of what each guest brought tonight.”

“That won’t be difficult. I prepared one in advance and can get you a copy when I go back downstairs. The only change was that Brody brought the drinks in place of Sandra because she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t attend.”

“We’ll need to speak with Ms. Barry, too. Make a note of that, Fitzcullins.” Brian jotted in his pad as the sheriff continued. “We’ll also need the seating chart. In particular, who sat on either side of Ms. Broom.”

“There was no seating chart,” Florence explained. “I didn’t make one because I thought it was better for people to sit where they wanted.” She paused, as if thinking back, and then added, “I know that Brody was seated at Gladys’ right. I believe Phyllis from the baby store was on his left, but people were walking around chatting with one another.”

Leroy glanced at Brian, and he jotted that down.

“Excuse me, Sheriff, but can I ask a question?” Cathy inquired.

Leroy nodded. “Go ahead, Miss Carter.”

“How can you be positive Gladys was poisoned?”

“It’s true the body needs to be examined by the M.E. before we can determine an exact cause of death,” Leroy said, “but the signs point toward poisoning. If any toxic substances turn up in Ms. Broom’s system, we’ll send the food and her drink glass out to the forensic lab for testing. This may take some time. We have to consider this a suspicious death until we know otherwise especially considering the fact that Ms. Broom’s sister’s murder is still unsolved, and we received some recent information from an anonymous source that may shed some light on that case.”

Cathy knew he was referring to the phone call the lawyer received about another copy of Maggie’s will but couldn’t directly tell them that.

Leroy questioned Florence a few minutes longer and then asked Cathy some general questions. Then he requested that she bring her grandmother downstairs and ask Taylor Briggs, aka Howard Hunt, to come up to the room.

“I can make it downstairs myself,” Florence said, “and I’ll tell Howard to come up.” Cathy was relieved that her grandmother’s color had returned and that she seemed steadier on her feet.

While they were waiting, Cathy put in the request for Becky and Doug to be excused.

Leroy conferred with Brian in a hushed voice and then said, “I don’t think we’ll be keeping people much longer. Have them sit tight. I want to speak with Howard and Brody, but the others will be free to go when I’m done. Until we have all the evidence verified and know the cause of death, I can’t hold anyone here. However, they’ll all need to stay in town during our investigation.”

“Can I go down and tell them? Mr. Hunt should be up shortly.”

“Yes, you can go.”

As Cathy stepped out into the hall, she nearly bumped into Florence who was rushing into the room, her face flushed.

“Gran, what’s wrong?” Cathy’s heart raced, wondering what could’ve happened that had caused her grandmother such agitation.

“It’s Howard,” Florence said. “He’s gone.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“What do you mean ‘gone,’” Leroy shouted. “I thought someone was in charge of watching everyone.”

“Pauline and Nancy were doing that, but he must’ve slipped out the back door while they weren’t looking.”

Leroy’s face became as red as Florence’s as he commanded, “Fitzcullins, search outside right now in case he left. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

Brian took off in a flash, leaving Cathy and her grandmother with Leroy.

“We need to search the house, also. He might be hiding inside somewhere. You two look up here. I’m going downstairs.”

“Why is it so important to find him?” Florence asked. “He obviously had nothing to do with Gladys’ death. He arrived right before Doug and Becky and spent the whole time sitting next to me.”

“Then why did he run away?” Leroy persisted. “An innocent man doesn’t flee. Although I still suspect Mr. Broom, I can’t rule anyone out right now.”

Florence frowned as she watched Leroy head downstairs. “We would’ve heard someone come up here,” she said. “You can take a quick look around, but I want to see what’s going on with the others. I’m worried about Becky. This stress can’t do any good to her unborn baby.”

“It’ll be okay, Gran. I’m sure Doug is comforting her.”

Cathy spent five minutes going through the upstairs rooms before joining Florence and everyone in the living room. Before she went down, she checked on Oliver who was asleep on her bed and oblivious to everything going on.

When she arrived downstairs, she was relieved to learn that Leroy had excused Doug and Becky who’d gone home and that the women who’d wanted to call their husbands had been allowed to do so with Nancy making sure no one else slipped out. Brody, however, had been sequestered in the kitchen with Pauline and Brian who’d finished checking the outside of the house.

“There was no sign of Howard,” Brian said as Cathy walked through the kitchen on the way to the living room. “He must’ve had his car parked nearby and drove away in it. Leroy is posting an APB out on him.”

“Is that really necessary? I think he was just spooked. He couldn’t have done anything to harm Gladys.”

Brian shook his head. “It looks that way, but we already know the guy is a liar. He needs to answer some important questions to satisfy Leroy that he’s innocent.”

Cathy nodded. “What about Brody?”

Brody, seated in the chair with his head down, looked up at the mention of his name. Cathy saw tears shining in his eyes. “I can’t believe Gladys is dead. Even though she weren’t da greatest sister, we was finally startin ta get ta know one another. Now I’m the only Broom left.”

“That’s motive enough for the Sheriff,” Brian pointed out. “Although you didn’t inherit much in the will, there’s been a tip that there’s another will somewhere that differs from the one Norman Dexter drew up with your sister.”

“How can dat be?” Cathy saw genuine surprise on Brody’s face. She hadn’t expected Brian to mention the suspected false will.

“An anonymous phone call was made to Mr. Dexter yesterday. He contacted us, but we couldn’t identify the caller. Leroy was pretty convinced it was you until Cathy told him you were working at the animal clinic when the call was made.”

Before Brody or Cathy could comment, Leroy stormed into the kitchen, his cell phone in his hand. “Fitzcullins, I just had a call from the M.E. They’ve already examined the body and have a preliminary cause of death. Visual signs show it was murder. They suspect that traces of poison in Ms. Broom’s system will show up after the autopsy and tox screen.” He glared at Brody. “Even though the lab will be testing all the food, I have my bets something was in that smoothie drink you brought over.”

“That’s not possible, Sheriff,” Cathy said. “My friend and Mrs. Dexter worked together preparing the drinks.”

Leroy turned toward her, his face still accusatory. “Even if the drink mix wasn’t tampered with prior to the toast, someone may have added the poison to Gladys’ glass before she drank it.”

“Do they know what type of poison it was?” Brian inquired.

“It’ll take about a week for them to know that. However, the M.E. thinks the poison was plant based.” Leroy ran his fingers through his hair. The red spikes refused to lie down.

Cathy took in a breath. She thought of the Nightshade grown in her grandmother’s garden and recalled showing it to Howard the day he came by to bring Florence to the play in New York City.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Cathy knew Florence wouldn’t harm a fly, yet how would it look to the police if the plant she grew in her garden was the one that killed Gladys?

“First thing we do,” Leroy said to Brian, “is speak with Sandra Barry at the inn and then go through Mr. Broom’s room with a fine-tooth comb for any clues.”

“What about the guests still in the living room?” Brian asked.

“You can tell them they can leave but must stay in town. We have no evidence yet to keep them.”

As Brody rose from his seat, Leroy put out his arm. “Not you. I want you to come with us to the station. You’re under suspicion because not only did you bring the drink, but you were seated right next to your sister during the toast. With the lights off, that gave you ample opportunity to slip something in her glass.”

“You don’t even know fer sure the poison was in da smoothie, and what about dat guy, Hunt?” Brody asked. “Aren’t ya searching fer him?”

“We are and will continue to do so. It’s even possible the two of you were in cahoots.” He turned to Brian again. “Fitzcullins, tell everyone they can go. I’ll escort Mr. Broom out to our car and wait for you.”

As people left, they all gave their regards to Florence. Pauline and Nancy left last. Pauline hugged Florence and told her not to worry and to call if she needed anything. Nancy took Cathy aside and said, “We need to talk. Call me later tonight.”

When the house was finally empty, Cathy filled Florence in on what Leroy had told her.

“Oh, dear. We have to tell him that I have Nightshade in the garden. We can’t withhold information from the police.”

“But, Gran, it will make you look guilty. Someone must be trying to throw suspicion on you.”

“Just because I grow that plant, doesn’t mean it was used to kill Gladys.”

“I know that, but the police will question it because the murder took place here. If Nightshade is found in Gladys’ system, someone probably placed some of the plant in Gladys’ glass while the lights were off. It would’ve been harder to mix it in her food that quickly.”

“I didn’t see anyone go outside.”

“They may have done that before they came to the door.” Cathy was thinking of Howard, but she was afraid to voice that suggestion.

“Or they may have gotten it elsewhere.”

“Where else, Gran? I assume you could find it in a nursery or gardening store. I could ask Steve.”

“No need to do that, Catherine. I wasn’t talking about a place that sold it. I’m not the only Buttercup Bend resident who grows it, you know.”

“What do you mean? Who else grows Nightshade? It’s not a common garden plant.”

“Don’t you remember that I used to belong to the town’s gardening club? Steve did a presentation for us once about it and that’s what convinced me to plant it.”

Cathy vaguely recalled her grandmother attending the Buttercup Bend Gardening Club a few years back. The members alternated at which house they met. “Where was that presentation, Gran, and who attended?”

“Every lady who was at the shower, Catherine, including Becky. You know she enjoys gardening although she hasn’t been able to do much of it lately because of the bending required. The presentation was at Pauline’s house, although she was the only member who never planted it.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Cathy convinced her grandmother not to call the sheriff about the Nightshade. “Let’s just wait until we know for sure what killed Gladys. Leroy and Brian will be paying us a visit with more information soon and then you can tell them.”

“Very well, Catherine. Can you please lend me a hand and help me clean up this mess they left?”

The two women busied themselves clearing off the remainder of the buffet table and then folded it up against the wall. Cathy said she’d return it to the garage the next day. Florence called Doug to see how Becky was holding up and was told she was napping.

When Florence went to her room in the pretense of wanting to rest, Cathy knew she needed to be alone with her thoughts. She took the opportunity to release Oliver from her bedroom. The Siamese was waiting at the door and let out a meow when she opened it.

“Sorry, Oliver, but the party turned into a police investigation, and I knew you wouldn’t appreciate being part of that.”

As if he understood, he looked up at her with his big blue eyes. As she moved his water fountain and food bowls back downstairs and threw out the cardboard box she’d used as his temporary litterbox, he followed her to the kitchen. She opened a can of cat food, and he dug in. After practically wiping the dish, despite the fact that she’d left out dry food for him in the bedroom, he pawed his water in his usual manner and then dipped in his face to lick up the liquid.

She laughed at his silly habit. “Thank goodness for you, Oliver. You keep me smiling.”

It was then that her cell phone rang. She saw Nancy’s name on the screen. Even though she should’ve expected the call, she was surprised at the excitement in her friend’s voice when she answered it.

“Two murders, can you believe it, Cat? We’ve got to get cooking on this. Pauline found out something interesting from Leroy. It seems Norman Dexter received an anonymous call from someone yesterday morning alleging that Maggie wrote another will. The sheriff sent some men to go through Maggie’s house, but nothing was found. I still think there’s something there, and we should check it out.”

Cathy didn’t bother to tell her friend she already knew about the call the lawyer received. Instead, she said, “Nancy, hold on. Even though I have the key to get in the house, if we go in there, we’d be interfering in a murder investigation. We might even be guilty of breaking the law.”

“I have a way around that. I spoke to Brian. He’s warming up to me. I never expected him to forgive me, but I think he wants to give us a second chance.”

“What about you and Michael?”

Nancy paused and then said, “I think that was just infatuation. I’m giving up on him. He’s too busy with his work and doesn’t seem that interested in me.”

Michael’s warm smile flashed before Cathy’s eyes. “Are you sure? He seemed to enjoy himself with you at the dance. If you still have feelings for him, you should probably give it a little more time.”

She laughed. “Cat, you know I never wasted time on any guy. Meanwhile, Brian has agreed to come with us to Maggie’s house tomorrow.”

“What?”

“I told him how good I am at finding things and solving clues. He said that Leroy wanted him to make a sweep of the place because the officers who checked didn’t bring back anything of interest. When I asked if I could come along, he said I could as long as I kept it quiet.”

“What about me? You said “we” would go in. Does Brian know you asked me, too?”

“No, but I’m sure he won’t object. After all, your business practically owns the place, and two sets of eyes are better than one. Also, we’re a team, remember?”

“A team of what?”

“Sleuths, of course. I feel terrible about your sister-in-law and your grandmother. It ruined their party. But I have a few other things to tell you that Pauline reported to me. You’ll hear it all tomorrow, anyway. She’s writing up the story tonight and wants us both at the newspaper office at 6 a.m. I told Brian we would meet him at the house around seven. He’s doing this before he has to get to the station. He’s an early riser, so that works for him. We can go next door after we finish working with Pauline.”

Cathy didn’t like how Nancy was holding back some of the news. “Why can’t you fill me in on everything now, Nance? Did they locate Howard? Is Brody still at the station? Did they speak with Sandra?”

“Whoa! One question at a time. They found Howard. He had some lame excuse about why he left. I don’t know what he said. Brian told me he spoke to Leroy behind closed doors. Whatever he told him, it must’ve been convincing because he was released without any further questions. Brody was also released, but Leroy still believes he’s guilty. He spoke with Sandra on the phone. He told Brian she sounded terrible. He thinks she has the flu. She said she prepared the smoothie drink herself, and Brody was nowhere around when she made it.”

“He still could’ve slipped something in it later, but I don’t think he did.” Cathy wasn’t sure she should tell Nancy about the Nightshade. She skirted around the topic. “Have they determined what killed Gladys?”

“Oh, yes. They put a rush on the tox screen. Leroy has a friend that works in the lab, so he called in a favor. All the food was fine except the liquid left in Gladys’ glass. It had a toxic drug in it called Belladonna. Brian said it looked as though someone crushed up some leaves from a Nightshade plant and added it to the drink. That must’ve happened when the lights were off, and everyone was waiting for Doug and Becky and had their sights focused on the door.”

Cathy now saw no point in keeping her knowledge from her friend. “I might as well tell you what Gran said. She grows Nightshade in her garden, but so do all the women who were at the party except Pauline. They were members of a garden club a few years ago when Steve gave a presentation on the plant.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Does Leroy know?”

“Not yet. I told Gran to keep it quiet for now.”

“Perfect. That means we have time to investigate. We need to check out each of these gardens and see if any of the plants have been cut recently.”

“That’s crazy. How would we even be able to tell?”

“Simple, by asking your friend, Steve, the gardener, to accompany us.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

It wasn’t easy for Cathy to sleep that night. She also heard her grandmother tossing and turning from the room next door. How was the killer sleeping tonight? she wondered. Could the person who murdered Gladys and Maggie get a good night’s sleep?

The next morning, she and Florence sat at the breakfast table with Oliver nearby, slurping up his cat food and fishing in his water fountain. At least he was keeping to his normal routine. For the first time since Rainbow Rescues opened five years ago, Florence hadn’t gone there as soon as she rose to feed the pets.

“I called one of the volunteers in early,” she explained after taking a few sips of coffee. “I didn’t want to disturb Becky. I’m not sure how much sleep she got last night either.”

“You should go back to bed, Gran.” Cathy observed the circles under Florence’s eyes. “I can lend a hand if you need me to.” She wasn’t about to mention the fact that Howard had been found and released. She had a feeling Florence wouldn’t hear from him again and was relieved about that.

“No need, dear. You should get some more rest yourself.”

“I can’t. I need to go to the Buttercup Bugle today. I heard from Nancy last night that Pauline was working late on a story and that she wants me to come by this morning.” She didn’t have to specify what story Pauline was writing. It was obvious the murder would be on the front page. She checked the clock and saw that she only had a few minutes to get to the paper. She gulped down her coffee and took a few last spoonfuls of her cereal. “Sorry, Gran, but I have to run. Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“I doubt I can do that, Catherine, but I might start another crochet project. That always relaxes me. I have no idea why Leroy took the blanket I made Becky and all the other gifts. He’d better get them back soon.”

Cathy took the steely look in her grandmother’s eyes as an indication she was feeling better. “See you later then. Nancy and I are getting together afterwards and doing a few things. I should be home by lunchtime.”

“You two aren’t poking your noses into this investigation, are you?”

Cathy wasn’t surprised her grandmother saw through her flimsy excuse for spending time with Nancy. “It’s okay, Gran. We’ll be careful, and Brian will be with us.”

Florence’s gray eyes remained steely. “He’d better be careful, too, and not only of the killer. Leroy doesn’t like to be kept out of any loops.”

Pauline was unusually quiet when Cathy arrived, only inquiring about Florence’s state of mind and nodding when Cathy told her that her grandmother was doing okay considering all that had happened the day before. When Cathy asked why Pauline wanted her to drop by, she said she hoped Cathy had some photos from the shower. Cathy had taken a few with her carmera and also her cell phone, but they were taken before Maggie was found dead. Pauline wasn’t interested in those. Cathy suggested Pauline check with the sheriff to see what photos he and Brian had taken at the scene.

Nancy was finishing up the story at the PC. Pauline looked over her shoulder as she typed. “I doubt Leroy will give me any access to the crime scene photos. He even had me promise to keep some of the details out of the account. I argued freedom of the press, but he insisted. As much as I love him, I can’t stand that man sometimes.” She formed a face that made the bags under her eyes more pronounced. Although Cathy knew she’d been working late at the paper, she also realized Pauline had found it as hard to sleep as she and her grandmother. She was sure the other party guests had the same problem after knowing a murder had been committed right under their noses.

“What are your plans today, Pauline?” Nancy asked. “You look like you could use a rest.” Cathy knew she was trying to figure out how they could hide their covert operation with Brian from her.

As if to validate Nancy’s comment, Pauline let out a large yawn. “You’re right. I’ll go upstairs and try to rest, although I doubt I’ll be able to do that.”

“Even lying down an hour or so should be helpful.” Nancy, having finished her typing, stood up from the desk chair. She joined Cathy who was waiting by the door.

“Thanks, ladies,” Pauline said as she opened the door for them. “I’m sorry I called you here for nothing, Cathy. If I get any breaking news that require typing or photos, I’ll be sure to call you on your cells. In the meantime, I’m taking Nancy’s advice and lying down a bit. This has been quite nerve-wracking for me.”

Outside, Nancy whispered to Cathy even though Pauline had closed the door and was probably not in earshot. “I told Brian to park on the other block and walk over here, so Pauline wouldn’t notice his car. I think I see him now. He’s standing by Maggie’s door.”

Sure enough, as the women approached what was once known as the Cat Crazy Lady’s House, Brian greeted them. He held an open bag of dry cat food in his arms. A few of Maggie’s cats were circling his legs.

“Hi, Nancy, Cathy.” He raised an eyebrow at Cathy but didn’t say anything as if he expected Nancy would bring her. “I figured I might as well feed some of the cats while I’m here. Now that Boots is gone, I have extra cat food. I wish I could take some of them, but I still have my other pets, and I’m not sure they would welcome a new addition.”

Cathy knew that if the current will’s provisions were met, Maggie’s cats would be placed at Rainbow Rescues. Since the center was already overcrowded, they needed the inheritance money to open a second location on the site of the farm that was on sale. But if a new will was found, a whole different scenario might occur.

“I would take another one, too, but I don’t think Mildred would allow me a second cat in the apartment,” Nancy said bending down to scratch the head of a marmalade cat that looked a bit like Hobo.

“Let’s go in the house. We don’t have much time. Leroy wants me at the station in about a half hour.”

Cathy took the key from her pocket, opened the door, and switched on the lights.

“Leroy doesn’t want anything touched.” Brian removed three pairs of gloves and held two of them out to the women. “Put these on. The last thing we need is for our fingerprints to get on anything.” He put the third pair over his hands.

“Where in the world should we start?” Nancy asked.

“I thought you were the great finder of things,” Cathy said. “What do you suggest?”

Nancy looked around. Cats were gathered everywhere. “We’d better watch where we step. I think we should each take a different room. Brian, you check here in the living room. Cat, maybe you can look over the rooms down the hall. I’ll take the kitchen. If any of us find anything, we call out to the others.”

“Sounds like a plan, but whatever you girls do, don’t move anything. You can pick stuff up but put everything back where you found it.”

The previous times Cathy had been there, she hadn’t spent much time in Maggie’s room. As she entered it, she noticed the bed was unmade and missing its pillow. She realized the police were still keeping that for evidence. Two cats were perched on the headboard, and one was asleep in the window. The room was small, but Cathy thought it was pretty. The walls were painted off-white with black pawprints running from side-to-side along with framed photos of cats who Cathy recognized from a few she’d seen in the house and a couple she assumed had passed away. The curtains were also white and featured cut-out-shapes of cats. The bureau opposite the bed was lined with cat knickknacks and more framed cat photos in stands. There was also a tall bookshelf containing both cat fiction and non-fiction. This was the main room where Nancy could start cataloging the items Rainbow Rescues could offer for sale once the house was officially released to them.

Cathy rummaged through the drawers, being careful not to move too much around as Brian had requested. She was checking under the bed, after two cats scooted out, one of which was carrying what looked like a toy mouse or maybe a real one in its mouth, when Nancy came in the room. “Did you find anything?” she asked. “The kitchen was bare, and Brian had no luck in the living room.”

Cathy shook her head. “Sorry, Nancy. I didn’t think we’d uncover anything after the police already searched and came up empty-handed. This is a wild goose chase. That call may have been a crank.”

Nancy shook her head. “If that’s true, then why was Gladys murdered? Wait a minute …” She paused, glancing at the bookshelf against the wall. “When I took Gladys around for a tour of the house, we stopped in here. I left her for a minute to use the bathroom. When I came back, she was looking at one of those books. I told her to put it back where she found it. She seemed eager to end the tour after that which surprised me because she’d been so keen on checking the whole house.”

“Do you remember which book it was?” Cathy asked.

Nancy walked to the shelf and, with her gloved hands, removed a thin book that was wedged between a Lillian Jackson Braun Cat Who mystery and a Carole Nelson Douglas Midnight Louie book. The front was covered with cats, but a white label had been affixed to it that read, “Diary of Maggie Broom, May 2017.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Cathy called to Brian who rushed down the hall.

“What’s up? Did you find … ” He paused in the doorway seeing Nancy holding the book.

“What’s that?”

“Nancy found Maggie’s diary,” Cathy said.

Nancy gave them a smug smile. “It’s not the will, but I think it may give us some clues.”

Brian reached for the book, but Nancy put a hand out to stop him. “Not so fast, Mister. I found that.”

When she tried to pull it away from him, he held tight. “It’s police evidence now, Nancy. I have to report this to Leroy.”

“And then tell him you let two civilians into Maggie’s home?”

“I won’t say that part. He already knows I planned to check things out here. He doesn’t need to know you two were with me.”

“Not unless one of us says something.”

“Nancy, please. I’m an officer of the law. I can’t withhold evidence.”

“Just let me take a look at it, please. I have my gloves on.”

Cathy watched Nancy bat her long lashes at Brian and then saw his guard fall. Turning to her, he handed her the book.

“Thank you.” She flipped through some pages. “Oh, my gosh this woman was crazy. She’s got all this stuff about cats. Listen to this,” she began reading a few passages. “Tiger was constipated this morning. I fed him a spoonful of pumpkin and hope it helps. I brushed Penelope, and she looks beautiful. Maybe I should enter her into a cat show. I gave Max a bath. He didn’t like it much, but he smells so nice now.”

“I guess there’s nothing of interest in there if all she wrote about were her cats, but I still need to take it back to the station.”

“Wait.” Nancy flipped toward the back of the book, read to herself, and then said. “This was dated a few days before her death. What do you make of it?” Instead of reading, she passed the book to Brian.

Cathy felt like an outsider watching the two of them confer, but she was relieved when Brian read the page out loud. “What I’ve only dreamed about came true a few weeks ago. After all these years, my Fuzzy Tomcat has returned.” Brian paused, “What’s different about this? It’s about a lost cat.”

“No,” Nancy said. “Read the rest. She’s referring to a man. That’s just a nickname she gave him.”

Brian scanned the page and then continued. “We were doing well up until I made a mistake and told him about my money. He wants me to change my will. I told him I’d think about it.”

Cathy couldn’t help but look over Brian’s shoulders to read the rest, but it was the last line of the diary. She felt her heart sink. Fuzzy Tomcat had to be Maggie’s ex Taylor aka Howard. They’d probably made up, and Howard wanted Maggie to put him in the will. But if she did as the anonymous caller alleged, where was the new will?

Nancy spoke Cathy’s thoughts. “I bet Fuzzy Tomcat is Howard. That sleaze. He was coming on to your grandmother after he killed Maggie.”

“Something doesn’t make sense,” Brian said. “If Maggie changed her will to leave everything to Fuzzy Tomcat, whether he’s Howard or not, where is that new will? Wouldn’t Norman Dexter know something about it?”

“Not if she died before she showed it to him,” Nancy said.

“But wouldn’t Fuzzy Tomcat then want to make sure it was found, and why kill Gladys?”

“That’s why we’re on the case.”

“We?” Brian gave her a puzzled look. “I think you’re mistaken, Nancy. I only agreed to let you and Cathy help me look around here. Leroy would take away my badge if he knew I did that. Speaking of Leroy,” he checked his watch. “I have to get to the station. We could spend days here and not find the will if it even exists. I think you two have had enough of amateur sleuthing. This isn’t a mystery novel. Two people have died, and I don’t want either of you to be added to the statistics. Now I’m taking this diary with me to show the sheriff. We need to read the whole thing, check it for prints, and see if there’s more in it than a memoir about Maggie’s cats and this mysterious Fuzzy Tomcat man.”

Nancy laughed. “Good luck, but thanks.”

Brian stuffed the diary into a Ziploc he took from his pocket and started for the door, a few cats followed him, meowing at his heels.

They said their goodbyes out in the early morning sunshine that was a welcome relief from the sour smells in the house. As Cathy watched Brian walk away, she said to Nancy, “I saw how he looked at you. I hope you’re not stringing him along just to get information.”

Nancy shrugged, sending her strawberry blonde hair across her shoulders. “I don’t need him, Cat. I have other means of finding facts.”

“You mean Pauline?”

“Her and other sources. Anyway, are you ready for Step 2 in our investigation today?”

“Step 2?”

Nancy’s blue eyes widened. She was enjoying her role as a sleuth. “We need to call Steve and get him on board with us. Then we pay a visit to all the ladies who grow the plant that killed Gladys to see if any of their Nightshade are missing leaves.”

“That’s crazy. First of all, even if Steve agrees to this and can tell if any of the plants have been cut, none of those women will admit to murder. I’m sure Leroy has interviewed all of them. And, what about Howard? If he’s Fuzzy Tomcat, he’s definitely a suspect.”

“I haven’t ruled out Howard or anyone else for that matter. Just because all the women in the garden club except Pauline grow Nightshade doesn’t mean one of them used it to kill Gladys. It’s possible someone else got into one of the woman’s yards and picked a few leaves they slipped into her drink when the lights were off.”

Cathy agreed with Nancy’s reasoning and thought again of Howard arriving right before Doug and Becky and how a few days earlier she’d shown him the Nightshade in Florence’s garden. Yet, according to Nancy, Howard had been found and released after being questioned by Leroy. Would the diary Brian brought back to the station be new evidence that the man her grandmother dated was the killer of the Broom sisters?

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Nancy asked Cathy to call Steve on his cell to meet them at Phyllis Darlin’s house which was the closest to Maggie’s. He’d just finished up a job when he got her call.

“What’s this all about? I have a short break now. Will it take long?”

“We’ll explain when you meet us at Mrs. Darlin’s house.” She gave him the address.

“We? Who else is with you, Cat?”

“Nancy. We’re working on a, uh, gardening project that we need your help with.”

“Okay. See you in a few minutes.”

When Cathy disconnected, she looked at Nancy. “I don’t feel right about this. We can’t just go traipsing into these women’s yards to check their plants.”

“We won’t disturb anything, and it’s all in the name of justice.”

Cathy rolled her eyes. “If it’s in the name of justice, we should leave the investigating up to the police as Brian said. If he knew what you were up to, he’d report it to the sheriff.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s smitten with me.”

Cathy sighed. “It’s a challenge being your friend sometimes.” Despite her words, Cathy felt excited to be included in the investigation.

Phyllis Darlin’s house was a small white ranch at the end of a cul-de-sac with neatly trimmed bushes and flower beds bordering the walk. Steve was standing next to his pickup when they got there. Cathy felt a bit awkward seeing him since their previous conversation, but his smile relaxed her.

“Hi, Cat. Hi, Nancy. What’s doing?” While his blue eyes were warm as he greeted them, Cathy saw curiosity in them. She let Nancy explain their mission.

“Hmmm,” Steve said when Nancy told him what she wanted him to do. He touched the dimple in the center of his chin. “I want to help you ladies, but I’m not thrilled about getting involved in this. Even if I were able to tell if any of the Nightshade was cut, the evidence couldn’t be brought to the sheriff because it was obtained without a warrant.”

“We’re not planning on sharing this with the sheriff,” Nancy said. Cathy knew Nancy would tell Brian instead.

“Then why go through the trouble?”

“We just want to satisfy our curiosities.”

Steve still seemed uncertain, but Cathy, suddenly feeling emboldened, gave him the same look Nancy had given Brian, batting her eyelashes and striking a sensual pose. “Can you please help us?”

Nancy winked at her after Steve sighed and said, “All right, but we have to do this quick.” He glanced around at the shuttered windows of the homes around the circle. “I don’t want anyone seeing us. This could be considered breaking and entering.”

“We’re not breaking anything,” Nancy said. “We’re just entering the backyard.”

Steve walked ahead of the women. He unlatched the white gate that led behind the Darlins’ house. Nancy and Cathy followed him.

The backyard featured several flower beds, a shady tree under which a striped hammock hung, and an above-ground pool that wasn’t yet filled for the season. There was a round, red and black barbecue on the patio and two deck chairs. A few toys were scattered on the lawn. Cathy knew Phyllis and her husband Charles’ children were grown and away at college, but they often invited young shoppers to their home.

Steve walked over to a flower bed on the far side of the yard. “From what I recall,” he said, “This is where Phyllis planted the Nightshade after the garden club meeting. She hasn’t had me work here on the landscaping because Charles does the gardening work.”

Cathy leaned in next to Steve to look for the plant and caught a whiff of the freesia’s sweet perfume. A bee objected to her poking around and buzzed its annoyance.

“Which plant is it?” Nancy asked stepping near the upraised garden bed and looking over the leaves. There were a few identified by white labels sticking out of the soil. None said Nightshade, and Cathy didn’t recognize the familiar shape of the plant.

“None of these,” Steve said. “Looks like Mrs. Darlin removed them from the garden. I guess she was afraid that one of the small kids visiting might pick one and eat it.”

“Are you sure?” Nancy seemed disappointed. “Do you see it anywhere else? Maybe she just moved the plants.” Nancy began scouting through the other garden beds.

Steve shook his blond head. “Nope. Nothing even close. C’mon, I have to get back to work soon.”

“There are a few more places we need to check,” Nancy said. “The Dexter’s place is on the next block. We can walk there. It won’t take long.”

“I really think you’re wasting your time and mine.” Steve looked annoyed, but Cathy gave him that wide-eyed gaze again, and he shrugged. “Okay. Lead the way.”

The lawyer’s home was the first house around the corner. It was larger than the neighboring homes with two floors and a wraparound veranda. Florence used to tell Cathy she couldn’t understand why Norman and his wife needed so much room when they’d never had children. Pauline said they were just showing off their money, although a small-town lawyer didn’t make much.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Steve said when they arrived at the house. “Looks like someone’s home.” He gestured toward the red Taurus in the driveway.

“That’s Joan’s car,” Nancy said. “I thought she’d be at work.” Joan Dexter was a secretary at an insurance company a few towns away.

“I guess we move on then,” Steve said checking his watch.

“Not necessarily.” Nancy walked to the front door and rang the bell.

“What are you doing?” Cathy asked.

She put a finger to her lips. “Stay back. I’ll handle this.”

A few seconds later, Joan answered. She looked like she’d just gotten out of bed. She was dressed in a pink and blue plaid robe, and her short, curly blonde hair was unbrushed.

“Hello, Nancy.”

“Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Dexter, but I need a favor.”

She looked past Nancy at Cathy and Steve. “I would let you all in, but I’m home sick today, and I wouldn’t want you to catch my bug. Something must be going around. I know Mrs. Barry is ill, too.”

“That’s not a problem, Mrs. Dexter. We just need to go in your backyard.”

“My backyard? Whatever for?”

Nancy turned around and faced Cathy and Steve. “Cathy is trying to get some ideas for new plants for her grandmother’s garden, and Steve offered to give her a hand. I thought I’d come along, too. I don’t keep a garden by my apartment, but Mildred has one, and I can suggest some plants to her. Your garden is one of the best in town according to Mrs. Wilson who used to be in the gardening club with you.”

Joan smiled at the compliment. “I’m honored. Sure, go right through the gate and take all the time you want. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”

“Thank you, but we brought Steve along to help with that.”

As they walked into the back garden, Cathy whispered to Nancy, “I think you’re crazy. That took a lot of nerve.”

Nancy laughed. “A good detective knows how to butter up suspects. Now, Steve, get to work. I know you’re in a rush. Where’s the Nightshade?”

Steve strolled around looking through the plants. Cathy spotted the poisonous leaves at the same time he did. “Right here,” they said simultaneously.

Nancy rushed to their side with an excited expression on her face. “Have they been cut recently?”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t appear that way. All the leaves are intact.”

Nancy took out a pad and pencil from her jeans pocket and crossed off one of the names listed on it. “That eliminates Mrs. Dexter. We head next to my house and check out Mildred’s garden. She’s at the library today, so we don’t need to tell her a story.”

“Wait a minute,” Cathy said. “Even if we find a Nightshade plant with missing leaves that doesn’t prove the person whose garden it belongs to is guilty. I doubt the person who poisoned Gladys would use her own plant.”

“Good point,” Nancy said, “but we still need to find where the killer plant was grown.”

As Cathy and Steve followed Nancy away from the Dexters’ house, Cathy turned back to see Joan watching them from behind a curtain.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

“I hope Mrs. Dexter doesn’t say anything to my grandmother,” Cathy told Nancy as they walked away from the house. “Then she’ll know you lied to her.”

“Stop worrying,” Nancy said. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” She turned to Steve. “Would you mind if we went back to your truck and drove with you to Mildred’s house? It’s not within quick walking distance.”

Steve gave her another unhappy look but agreed they could ride with him. Nancy got in the backseat next to a few potted plants allowing Cathy to sit up front with Steve. “You can move those plants if you don’t have room,” Steve told her. “Sorry about the dirt on the seat. I don’t usually drive with passengers.”

“No worries,” Nancy said pushing a pot of camellias and one of calla lilies away from her.

The small garden at Mildred’s house that fronted the back entrance to Nancy’s apartment proved to have no disturbed Nightshade. After Steve confirmed that fact by examining the plant with his gardener’s gloves, he stood up and faced Cathy and Nancy. “I hope this is it. We’re not finding anything, and I’m going to be late for my next appointment.”

“There’s only three more,” Nancy said. “Cathy’s house is next where you can check her grandmother’s garden, and Becky’s is right next door. Then it’s the Inn, and we’re all done. I promise.”

Steve’s frown prompted Cathy, feeling a strange tingle of excitement at the prospect of finding the plant that killed Maggie, to give him another plaintive look.

“All right, but this has to be quick.”

“We could skip my grandmother’s house and Becky’s,” Cathy suggested. “They wouldn’t have hurt Gladys.”

“No. We need to check each suspect’s garden. We’re not using this as evidence against anyone but just verifying which garden the deadly plant came from,” Nancy explained crossing off Mildred’s name in her notebook.

Although Cathy didn’t want to upset Florence and Becky any further, she understood Nancy’s reasoning.

They drove to Florence’s house at a speed that nearly knocked over the plants on Nancy’s seat and jostled Cathy around despite her secured seatbelt.

“Slow down, Steve,” Nancy said from the back as she gripped the plant pots.

Steve gritted his teeth, and Cathy knew he was holding back a retort. Being late for a gardening appointment might lose him a customer, and this amateur investigation probably seemed pointless to him. It was a miracle they arrived at Florence’s house in one piece and that none of the plants had unpotted.

When Cathy walked up to the front door, she saw the Buttercup Bugle lying there. It must’ve been delivered earlier by the freckle-faced teenager who lived across the street and helped Pauline distribute the newspapers around town. Cathy thought she even glimpsed the redhead pedaling her bicycle further down the street as she tossed papers by other houses. She was about to take it in with her, when she read the headline: “Cat Crazy Lady’s Sister Poisoned at Baby Shower – New Will Puts Pet Business Fortune in Question.” Accompanying the article was an unflattering photo of Gladys that Cathy knew Pauline must’ve taken. Scanning the story, she stifled a scream.

“Nancy, look at this. The headline is different, and Pauline even wrote about the missing will which is private police information that she promised Leroy she wouldn’t include. She mentions my grandmother when she talks about the shower, and there are other changes I’m not happy about. How could she do this?”

“Sorry, Cat. I had no idea she would change the story after I typed it. She’s a stickler for reporting news but sometimes embellishes the facts.”

Cathy nodded her head vigorously. “That’s an understatement, and this isn’t news. It’s pure, sensationalized gossip. Gran would be as hurt and angry as I am if she saw this.” She turned around and faced the gardener. “Take it and please put it in your truck, Steve.”

He did as she asked, tossing the paper in the back near the plants. She hoped he would use it for compost.

After checking the house, they found Florence on the back porch in the rocker reading while Oliver lay at her feet in a circle of sunshine.

“Hi, Catherine, Nancy, Steven. What are you all doing here? Steven, today isn’t your day to garden.”

“Steve is just helping us with a project,” Nancy answered for the three of them. “We need to look at your garden if you don’t mind, Mrs. Wilson.”

“My garden? Well, of course. What type of project are you working on? Maybe I can be of help.” Cathy knew her grandmother prided herself on having a green thumb. Even though she employed Steve, she knew a lot about caring for plants.

“No, that’s okay,” Nancy said. You stay there with Oliver. We’ll only be a minute.”

Florence gave her a curious look but turned back to her reading as Oliver rolled over, sunning his other side.

The three walked through the garden gate. Cathy knew exactly where the Nightshade was planted. The memory of showing Howard came back to her again, and she felt her heart start to race at the fear some of the leaves would be missing. She could hardly look when Steve bent down to examine the plant and sighed a deep breath of relief when he said, “These are fine. Nothing’s been touched here.”

“Great! Then we just need to check Becky’s garden.”

“Are you sure, Nancy? She’s been through a lot, and I hate to bother her.”

“If you’re looking for Nightshade, Becky no longer grows it.” Florence stood by the open gate.

“Gran,” Cathy exclaimed. “We didn’t hear you there.”

“It’s all right. I know what you’re up to. Nancy can’t help herself. She’s trying to track down the person who grew the plant that was put into Gladys’ drink, but the police need to handle that. Leroy already came by while you were out and checked the garden.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that when we got here?” Nancy asked, looking a bit peeved at the knowledge that the sheriff was taking over what she considered her and Cathy’s investigation.

Florence smiled. “I know how you are, Nancy. I wanted to satisfy your curiosity.”

Steve grinned widely, his dimple expanding. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. Now I can get back to work?”

“Not so quick,” Nancy said. “We have one more place to go – the inn. If we hurry, we may beat Leroy.”

“This is ridiculous,” Steve exclaimed. “I’m done. If you girls want to check out the inn on your own, be my guest.” With that, he turned on his sneakers’ heels and rushed back to his truck before Cathy could even try another flirtatious tactic on him.

“Why don’t you two come in and have some tea and a snack?” Florence suggested as Steve roared off.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Wilson. I’m going to the inn. Cat, are you coming with me?”

Even though Cathy had a feeling they wouldn’t have any luck finding cut Nightshade at the inn, she still felt committed and only slightly less excited about continuing the search. “Sure, Nance. The inn isn’t far. We can walk. I’ll drive you home when we get back.” She turned to her grandmother. “I’ll be home soon, Gran.”

Florence looked after them as they headed down the block.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

As they turned the corner that led to the Buttercup Inn, they saw a police car parked in front.

“We’re too late,” Nancy said. “Someone must’ve tipped off Leroy. I hope it wasn’t Brian.”

“How could it be Brian? We didn’t say anything to him about the gardening club ladies.”

Nancy ignored Cathy’s question and strode up to the inn. Cathy tried to keep pace with her. When they passed the squad car, they saw Brian and Leroy standing on opposite sides of Sandra who was gesturing wildly, her face reddened by anger. Even with the flush, her skin seemed pale as if she wasn’t over her sickness. Cathy wondered if she’d had the same bug as Mrs. Dexter.

“You need a warrant to check my property,” she said loudly.

Leroy stuck his hand in his uniform’s breast pocket, withdrew a folded piece of paper, and handed it to her. “Here it is, Ma’am. Now show us your garden.”

Cathy watched Sandra lead the officers toward the back of the inn. “Let’s follow them,” Nancy said.

Cathy wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but she wanted to see if anything suspicious would be found in the inn’s garden, so she caught up with Nancy who’d run ahead to the open gate.

In the backyard, Leroy was using a magnifying glass to study a cluster of plants. “Is this the Nightshade?” he asked Brian who withdrew a small book from his pocket. Cathy thought it might be a plant identification guide. Brian opened the book, flipped a few pages, and then passed it to Leroy. “It looks like it, Sir.”

“Yes, that’s the Nightshade,” Sandra said. “I could’ve pointed it out to you had you asked.”

None of the three gathered around the poisonous plant noticed Cathy or Nancy. They’d slipped behind a bush to hide while they observed the investigation.

Leroy took one last look at the Nightshade and slowly raised himself up. Cathy knew the sheriff had bad knees and almost expected him to ask Brian for a hand. But managing to get to his feet on his own, he brushed himself off and turned to Sandra. “I’m afraid it’s obvious this plant’s been cut, Ms. Barry.”

Sandra flipped back her ponytail. “That means nothing, Sheriff. I cut back my garden regularly, and any of my guests might have walked through that plant bed. I can tell the leaves looked trampled rather than clipped.”

Leroy didn’t seem satisfied with her explanation. “We’re not accusing you of anything, despite the fact it’s been determined that the smoothie you made, and that Ms. Broom drank at Mrs. Wilson’s party, was laced with crushed Nightshade leaves.”

“Sheriff, we already ascertained that the smoothie was clean when it arrived at Mrs. Wilson’s house,” Brian said. “The leaves were added later, after the drink had been poured into Ms. Broom’s glass.”

Cathy was trying to keep her breathing steady and low. The last thing she wanted was for the officers to find her and Nancy behind the bush.

“I’m aware of that, Fitzcullins. I’m not accusing Ms. Barry, but I want to speak with Brody Broom.” He turned to Sandra. “Is he here?”

“No. He’s working at the animal clinic today.”

“Then I want you to open his room, so we can search it. That warrant covers the inside of the inn as well as the garden.”

Cathy expected Sandra to argue with the sheriff, but she simply turned and headed for the gate. Nancy pulled Cathy back further into the bushes so that they wouldn’t be seen as Sandra, Leroy, and Brian passed them.

“We have to get into the inn and see what they find in Brody’s room,” Nancy said.

“We can’t just walk in there.”

“I have a plan. Follow me.”

Cathy went with Nancy to the front door which had been left open.

“They made this easy,” Nancy said, slipping inside the inn. She put two fingers to her lips and, with her other hand, waved at Cathy to join her. Cathy tiptoed in, glad that her light footsteps were muffled by the throw rug that graced the inn’s entrance. She listened to the voices from down the hall.

“I assume you’ll be checking the other guest rooms, too. I should notify the occupants who are present. I haven’t touched a thing in Gladys’ room since I heard of her death. I assume Brody should be given possession of those items.”

“No need to look at any other rooms, Ms. Barry. We’re only concerned with this one. Mr. Broom brought the smoothie to Mrs. Wilson’s party. He had ample opportunity to tamper with it.”

Cathy knew that wasn’t true, but she listened to the sheriff’s unreasonable reasoning for suspecting Brody. She wondered if Brian had turned in Maggie’s diary and if so, why wasn’t the sheriff bringing Howard Hunt back for questioning.

“I have no idea what you’re looking for,” Cathy heard Sandra say in an exasperated voice that was slightly hoarse from her cold.

“I’ll know it when I find it. There’s a possibility that a few traces of Nightshade might turn up here.” Cathy heard the sounds of furniture being moved and drawers pulled open.

“Ah ha!” Leroy’s loud exclamation had Nancy’s eyes widen.

“Will you check this out, Fitzcullins?”

“What have you got, Sheriff?”

“It’s not what I’ve got, Fitzcullins. It’s what Mr. Broom has. His gun box is empty and this time he’s loaded the gun.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

“We have to get to the animal hospital now. I have no idea what Mr. Broom is planning, but it can’t be good if he’s armed.” Cathy shuddered at Leroy’s words. Could she be wrong about Brody? Why would he have brought a loaded gun to the animal hospital? She feared for Michael and the people who worked there.

“We have to get out of here quick,” Nancy whispered.

They were on the street just in time to see Leroy and Brian rush to their patrol car.

“What do we do now?” Cathy asked.

“What else? Go back to your house, pick up your car, and drive to the animal hospital.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nancy. You heard what the sheriff said. Brody has his gun. If we interrupt his capture, it could be dangerous. I can’t believe I was so wrong about him.”

“We won’t get in the way. I have to report this to Pauline. It’s my job to cover breaking news.”

When they got to Cathy’s car, she said, “Give me a minute, Nancy. I can’t let you go alone, but I want to check in with Gran first.”

“Okay, but you better not tell her where you’re going and why. She’ll find out soon enough, and I’ll come with you in case you get cold feet about joining me.”

Cathy thought her grandmother might still be on the patio, but the back blinds were drawn. She knew something was wrong as soon as she went in the house and Gran didn’t answer her call because Florence had keen hearing even from upstairs. To confirm that her grandmother wasn’t home, Cathy walked to the stairway and yelled, “Gran, are you up there?” When there was no answer, she rushed up the stairs. Nancy followed behind her.

Checking each room on the second floor, the only one she found there was Oliver curled up by her pillow. “Do you know where Gran is, Oliver?” she asked the cat. He replied with a wink of his blue eyes.

Nancy said, “Don’t freak. Maybe she went for a walk or to check on the pets at the rescue center. Why don’t you call her on her cell?”

Cathy took out her phone. “It just goes to voicemail,” she said after the familiar recording kicked in.

“Maybe she’s with a new boyfriend or Howard turned up,” Nancy suggested.

Cathy gave her an exasperated look. “Don’t joke about this. Gran never keeps the lights on when she leaves the house. She has a thing about wasting electricity, and she always answers her phone or at least writes me a note when she goes out.”

“Where does she usually leave the note?”

“On the kitchen table.”

“Then let’s go check.”

Downstairs, the kitchen table was empty except for a teacup that hadn’t been put away. “There’s something wrong. Gran always cleans up after herself.”

Before Nancy could reply, Cathy’s cell phone rang. “There you go. That must be her now. You’ve been worried for nothing.”

Nancy was right. When Cathy answered, Florence’s voice came through the speaker.

“Gran, where are you? I came home, and you weren’t here.”

“Oh, thank goodness I finally reached you, dear. I’m calling from the Dexter’s house. It’s about Maggie Broom’s will. Norman found the other copy. You need to come here to sign some papers.”

“At Mr. Dexter’s house? Why aren’t you at his office?”

Nancy made a sign to Cathy that she wanted to hear the conversation. Cathy clicked the speaker button as her grandmother replied, “This is confidential, Cathy. Norman thought it best be done at his house and called me because he had trouble reaching you. You need to check your phone when you get a chance. I was able to contact Doug at the Post Office, and he’s here waiting for you, too. By the way, is Nancy with you?”

Nancy arched her red eyebrows as Cathy said, “Yes. Why, Gran?”

“I’d like you to bring her along. Pauline will probably want a report about this, but I couldn’t reach her. And don’t take the car. I tried it earlier, and it’s making a strange noise. I don’t think it’s safe to drive. Maybe Steve can look at it when he gets a chance. He’s pretty good with automotives. For now, I think you two should walk.”

“We’ll be right there.”

“Good. See you soon, Cathy.” Florence clicked off.

“Isn’t that strange?” Nancy said. “She said she was signing papers at the lawyer’s house and that it had to be confidential, and yet she wants me to take notes for the paper.”

“What’s even stranger,” Cathy said, “is she called me ‘Cathy.’ Gran always calls me Catherine.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“Do you think we should check your car?” Nancy asked as Cathy locked her door. “Did you have any problems with it recently?”

“No. It was running fine yesterday. But Gran’s right. We’re better safe than sorry, and it’s not a far walk to the Dexter’s.” She glanced at her cell. “I just don’t understand why Gran and Mr. Dexter couldn’t reach me on my phone. There are no voicemail messages on it, and it’s fully charged. I also can’t figure out what the new will entails. If Doug and I are signing papers, it still sounds like Rainbow Rescues is coming into the money that Maggie’s original will left us.”

“Let’s not worry about all that, Cat. I’m sure everything will be explained by the lawyer and your grandmother when we get there. However, I’m still concerned about what’s happening at the animal hospital. I’m coming with you, but we really should get over there as soon as we’re through.”

Cathy nodded. They’d just turned the block where the Dexters lived, and the large house loomed in front of them.

“Where’s Norman and Doug’s cars?” Nancy asked. The only car in the driveway was Joan Dexter’s red Taurus that had been parked there before.

“Maybe Norman’s is in the garage, and Doug may have walked. C’mon. The door’s open. Let’s go.”

As they headed up the walk, Joan greeted them as she had an hour earlier. She looked healthier and was no longer wiping her nose. “Nice to see you girls again. Please come in.”

“Where’s Gran?” Cathy asked as they stepped into the entrance foyer.

“Florence is in the den with my husband and your brother. Just this way.” As Joan led them down the white tiled hall, Nancy whispered to Cathy, “This place is huge. It reminds me of a museum.”

Cathy ignored the remark. When they arrived at the wood-paneled doors behind which she expected to find her grandmother, Doug, and the lawyer, Joan paused. She reached into the pocket of her housecoat and removed a pair of gloves that she slipped on her hands. Cathy flashed back to the night of Becky’s shower when Joan had helped Nancy in the kitchen and asked for a pair of kitchen gloves while she worked with the food. She recalled that Joan was still wearing those gloves when the smoothies toast was made. Her fears were substantiated when Joan reached into her other pocket and removed a gun.

“After you, ladies,” she said pointing the weapon at them.

“What’s going on?” Nancy asked.

“I’ll answer all your questions once you join Florence.” She pulled the door open, and Cathy ran to her grandmother who was tied to a chair in the den. Nancy followed as Joan kept the gun trained on her back.

“Gran, are you okay?” Cathy asked.

“I’m so sorry, Catherine. She made me call you. I tried to warn you by using the shortened version of your name, but I guess it didn’t work.”

“I had a feeling something was wrong. I should’ve called Leroy.”

“Stop your quibbling,” Joan demanded, “and sit down. Both of you.” She waved the gun, and Cathy and Nancy obeyed. Cathy took the chair next to her grandmother. Nancy sat across from them.

“You can’t get away with this,” Nancy said. “Where is your husband? Is he a part of this?”

“You mean Fuzzy Tomcat? No, although he’s very much the reason I must kill the three of you and why I killed Maggie and Gladys.”

“Mr. Dexter is Fuzzy Tomcat?” Nancy asked. “We thought that was Howard.”

“Nope. Howard, or should I say Taylor, had a different nickname. He was Cuddly Whiskers because of his stupid mustache. Not smart enough to figure that out, were you? Snooping around with your reporter’s pad and dragging your friend along. Now you all must pay.” She raised the gun and flicked back the trigger.

“Wait,” Cathy said. “You promised to fill us in on everything. Why did you kill Maggie and Gladys?” She knew she needed to stall for time. Maybe she could figure out how to disarm Joan, so they could escape.

Joan lowered the gun, and Cathy let out a breath. “Very well. I guess you should know the story. I can’t kill you here, anyway. That would ruin my lovely carpet.” She looked down at the spotless white rug. “It also wouldn’t help me frame Brody.”

“Brody? Is that his gun?” Nancy asked.

“You’re very sharp, Ms. Meyers, unlike Mr. Broom. He was stupid enough to leave his room open and his gun box in plain sight. Lucky for me, though.”

Cathy recalled how Sandra Barry still used regular keys instead of key cards at the inn and that the doors didn’t automatically lock behind themselves as some did in other hotels.

“Brody’s at the animal hospital right now,” she said. “Leroy and Brian are going there. They’ll find he doesn’t have the gun on him.”

“No worries.” Joan smiled at Cathy. “You’ll be dead before those incompetent officers start looking elsewhere, and I’ll make sure the gun is easy to find.”

“You haven’t told us the story yet,” Nancy said.

“Okay. I’ll make it quick.” Joan began pacing around the room, circling the three women with the gun extended. “When Norman and I married, I knew his attraction for me was my money because I came from a wealthy family. He’d just finished law school and had a load of unpaid student loans. He’d also just broken up with a woman who left him for another man. But despite his poor status and the fact that I was his second choice, I supported and loved him. I never lost track of the fact that his heart still belonged to the woman who’d married someone else.”

Cathy started fitting the pieces together in her mind. “That woman was Maggie Broom, wasn’t she?”

Joan’s eyes filled with anger. “That’s right. She’d divorced her husband early in the marriage and never even took his last name. I suspect she got lonely after so much time with just her cats and her regrets about Norman. She probably got in touch with him through the Internet or Facebook. People find one another that way these days.” She inched closer to them as she continued her tale.

“When Norman insisted we move to this town, I had no idea Maggie lived here. He pretended it had been a surprise to him, too, and told me she was now only a client. I knew better. I figured out what was going on the nights he was working late and meeting her at her house in the pretense of helping her prepare her will. He was stupid enough not to brush the cat fur off his pants. Didn’t he know I’d notice when I washed them? Even so, he never suspected that I was the one who smothered Maggie. He also wasn’t aware that I’d recently discovered that she came into all that money the Brodys are fighting over. When I’d gone through some of the papers in his briefcase while he was in the bathroom, I learned that interesting fact. It was then that I realized he was going to leave me because he wouldn’t need my money anymore. I couldn’t let that happen. After I came home from the BINGO game and found him fast asleep. I knew he’d been with her earlier and that her excuse of a migraine was to spend time with him while I was at BINGO, so I went to her house, and you know the rest.”

“That explains why you killed Maggie, but why did you kill Gladys?” asked Nancy.

“She found Maggie’s diary and knew about her sister’s previous relationship with Norman and the nickname she used for him. When she realized they were having an affair, she called me. She threatened to go to the police and show them the diary that would implicate Norman in her sister’s death if I didn’t pay her a million dollars, the same amount that matched the money her sister had bequeathed to Cathy’s pet business. She said the ten thousand Maggie left her wasn’t enough because she needed the money to hire an expensive exercise trainer and diet counselor to help her lose weight. I knew that I couldn’t tell Norman about the blackmail, and I wasn’t about to give her any of my money. Then when Florence and I chatted at the beauty parlor, I learned that Gladys was coming to the shower she was hosting.”

Cathy recalled, after they’d been in Maggie’s house, Nancy telling her how she’d caught Gladys reading a book from the bedroom shelf and had told her to put it back. Nancy also said Gladys had acted strange and wanted to leave after that. She must’ve read the last entry and recognized Norman’s nickname which gave her the idea for blackmail.

Joan glanced toward Florence as she continued her sordid story. “A few things fell in place after that such as Sandra being sick and Brody bringing the smoothie drink. I would’ve found something else to drop the Nightshade leaves into if that hadn’t happened, but fate was on my side for once when the lights were turned off, giving me cover and everyone was focused on the front door.”

“You’re an evil woman, Joan, but Leroy will catch you,” Florence said.

“Ha! I’m glad you have faith in that incompetent sheriff, but even if he solves the murders, it’ll be too late for you.” She pointed the gun toward her.

“No! Stop! I thought you said you weren’t shooting us here,” Cathy said.

“Change of plans. As much as I loved Norman once, I realize he was never worth the trouble I had to go through to protect him. I’ve liquidated our bank account. Most of it was mine, anyway, and as soon as I clear up a few loose ends that include your dead bodies, I’m out of this hole-in-the-wall town that Norman convinced me to move to because of his lover.”

“You’re insane,” Nancy said, speaking Cathy’s thoughts.

Joan laughed again. “That may be true, but that knowledge won’t help any of you.” She started squeezing the gun’s trigger.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Cathy pushed her chair into her grandmother’s so that the bullet meant for Florence would hit her first. But as she did, a body crashed through the door and grabbed Joan, deflecting the bullet to the ceiling as the gun was jostled from her hand. It happened so quickly that Cathy didn’t realize who had disarmed the lawyer’s wife. When Joan fell to the floor and the man stood over her, Cathy saw it was Howard Hunt.

“Howard!” Florence exclaimed. “How did you find us?”

“We’ll talk later. For now, can someone please dial the sheriff’s office? I don’t carry handcuffs on me, and this woman needs to be arrested.”

Nancy brought her cell phone from her pocket. “I’ll do it. I have Brian’s cell. He’ll get in touch with Leroy.”

Howard nodded, looking down at Joan. “I’d say you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Mrs. Dexter.”

She began to rise, anger filling her eyes.

“Don’t get up.” He pointed the gun Joan held earlier at her head and said, “Cathy, untie Florence, and we’ll use that rope to restrain Mrs. Dexter while we wait for the sheriff and his men.”

Cathy obeyed as Nancy made the call to Brian. When Florence was free, she hugged Cathy, tears in her eyes. “You risked your life for me, Catherine.”

“I love you, Gran,” Cathy whispered. While the two women embraced, Howard instructed Nancy to tie up Joan. He held his gun on her while Nancy did the job. A few minutes later, sirens blared as police cars surrounded the house. Leroy and Brian stormed in with a few officers behind them. Taking in the sight of Joan roped on the floor against the wall and the three women huddled together crying, Brian ran to Nancy. “Are you okay, Nance?”

“I’m fine. We’re all fine thanks to Howard, but I was so scared.” Cathy watched as Nancy hugged Brian. As she clung to him whimpering, she turned to Cathy and gave her a wink. That gesture did more to calm Cathy than the presence of the law.

Cathy was still puzzled about a lot of things, but she knew her questions would be answered eventually. As Leroy handcuffed Joan and one of the other officers assisted him in leading her out, she screamed, “Norman will get me out of this. Brody put me up to it. That’s his gun. He threatened me if I didn’t kill them.”

“Be quiet,” Leroy said. “We know Brody is innocent, and your husband, even if he wanted to which I strongly doubt he will once he discovers what you’ve done, can’t represent you.” He proceeded to read Joan her Miranda Rights, but she was still babbling as they pushed her in the back of a squad car.

“I’ll take the three of you home,” Brian offered, his eyes focused on Nancy as she continued to cling to him.

“What about Howard?” Florence asked.

“Private Investigator Hunt has his car with him.”

“Private Investigator?”

“That’s right, Florence,” Howard said. “After I retired, I obtained my private investigator license. I worked a few cases but then I heard about Maggie and wanted to solve her murder. Even though our marriage hadn’t worked, I felt an obligation to find her killer. I didn’t want anyone to know at first but after Gladys was killed, I spoke with Leroy and identified myself. He still thought I should keep my work private, so only he and Brian knew.”

“But didn’t the sheriff catch you and bring you in for questioning?” Nancy asked.

Howard smiled. “That’s what he told Brian to tell you. I came to the station of my own accord. I should’ve done it sooner.”

“But how come Leroy never discovered your background when he checked on you when you first started coming around Buttercup Bend?” Cathy asked. She hesitated to mention his dating her grandmother. She wondered if that had been a ruse to help him with his investigation.

“I can’t explain that except to say Leroy may have slipped up. We all do that occasionally, and I kept my tracks well hidden. I’m pretty proud of that. The main thing is that the murderer of my ex-wife and her sister has been caught, and no one else has been harmed.”

“Well, we were very lucky that you arrived when you did,” Cathy acknowledged.

“It wasn’t luck. It was intuition. I had gone for a long drive to clear my head about this case and saw Florence going into Mrs. Dexter’s house. Something seemed off. I hung around a bit out of sight and then, when I saw the two of you come by,” he glanced toward her and Nancy, “I decided to follow my hunch. The door was open, and Mrs. Dexter was speaking loudly. I heard her confession and the threats she made against you.”

“I’m impressed,” Nancy said. “I guess detecting work is less research and more gut feelings.”

Howard laughed. “It’s both.” Cathy agreed with that. While neither she nor Nancy had suspected Joan, her gut feelings had told her Brody was innocent. She only wished she’d listen to those feelings when the call from her grandmother had seemed odd.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

A week later, while Cathy and Florence were having breakfast on the patio looking out over Rainbow Gardens, Norman dropped by. He carried his dark brown attaché case at his side. Cathy already knew that he hadn’t posted bail for his wife and had, instead, filed for divorce. Joan was in jail pending her upcoming murder trial. The story appeared in the Buttercup Bugle, and Pauline congratulated Nancy for her fine work on the report.

“Good morning, Catherine, Florence,” the lawyer addressed them. “I hope I’ve caught you at a good time. I meant to call, but I was in the area and wanted to drop off the first check for the pet business and the lease to Maggie’s house.”

“That’s wonderful,” Florence said. “We were just finishing breakfast. Would you like something?”

“A little coffee would hit the spot.”

“Then please have a seat.” Florence looked toward the empty chair opposite her.

Norman did as she requested and lay his briefcase on the table. Unzipping it, he removed a cashier’s check and the lease document. “You’ll have to work out the tax payments with your accountant,” he told Cathy. “But this will be a good start to the expansion you’re planning. I hear you made a bid on the MaGregor Farm.”

“Yes. This is great timing because we’re scheduled to place the down payment by the end of the week.”

“Excuse me a minute, and I’ll go get your coffee,” Florence told Norman. “I’ll be right back.”

While they waited for her, Cathy asked Norman, “How are you holding up?” She noticed there were deep lines creasing the lawyer’s forehead and that he seemed to have aged another few years from his experience.

“I’m hanging in there. Thanks for asking, Cathy, and I meant to tell you how sorry I am for what my wife put you, your grandmother, and your friend through, not to mention Brody Broom. We hadn’t had a good marriage for a long time, but it wasn’t true that I married her for her money. I loved her once, and I thought she could mend my broken heart over Maggie. But she was a cold, avaricious woman who was never content with what I gave her.” A light came into his eyes behind his glasses. “Maggie was different. She loved animals. She was kind, compassionate but very introverted. People didn’t realize what a special person she was. They called her a Cat Crazy Lady, but when you got close to her, you discovered she cared for others as much as she did her felines.” Norman’s voice choked.

He cleared his throat and then continued. “When I suggested to Joan that we move to Buttercup Bend, it wasn’t because of Maggie. I never dreamed she’d take me back even though I knew she was divorced. But as Joan started driving me away with her constant nagging and demands, I ran into Maggie in the grocery store. She seemed happy to see me after all the years we’d been apart. She invited me over for dinner. She asked me to bring Joan, but I made an excuse. Joan would never step foot in a house full of cats. I brought a bottle of wine. One thing led to another, and we started our affair. I paid for that mistake, and I’m sorry that Maggie and Gladys did, too.”

“Your wife was ill,” Cathy said. “You aren’t to blame for what she did.”

“I should’ve made her seek help. I knew she had issues, but I had no idea she could commit murder.”

As Norman finished his tale, Florence returned. She laid a coffee cup down in front of the lawyer. “I hope you like it. I added a teaspoon of sugar and a dash of milk the way you usually take it.” She sat across from him and glanced at the check he passed to Cathy. Her mouth opened in surprise as she read the amount. “That’s quite a lot of money and will be helpful to our pet business, but I wish Brody could get something out of this. He’s earning money at the animal hospital now and on a path to straightening out his life, but he can’t stay at the inn forever as much as Sandra would like that.”

Cathy agreed. “What Gran says makes sense, Mr. Dexter. We already have plans to sell Maggie’s cat collectibles, and we’ll be moving her cats into the new rescue center once it’s open, but I think her house would be a perfect place for Brody to live once we do that.”

“Well, it’s yours to do as you want,” Norman said with a smile. “You can rent it to him at whatever price you feel reasonable. I tried to persuade Maggie to split the inheritance equally among Gladys, Brody, and your pet business. She was thinking about it but was murdered before she gave me an answer.” That explained Maggie’s diary entry. Cathy recalled the night Brody pointed an unloaded gun at Norman demanding his money. It was strange how things worked out. Norman had been on Brody’s side all along.

Another piece of the puzzle was found when Cathy learned that the anonymous call placed to Norman’s office had been his wife using a disposable cell phone and disguising her voice. The new will that she, Brian, and Nancy had searched for had never existed.

“I still don’t understand why Joan bothered to mislead us by making that anonymous call about another will.”

“I’m afraid there are a lot of things we’ll never understand about her actions,” Norman said. “My apologies again for all the trouble she caused everyone, but at least some good can come of it. I’m even considering adopting a pet from your rescue center. Joan would never allow an animal in the house.”

Florence smiled. “That’s wonderful, Norman. Please come by when you’re ready.” Cathy thought a pet would be a consolation to the lawyer after all he lost.

After Norman left, Cathy said, “I’ll have to talk to Doug about the arrangements for Maggie’s house, and Nancy still has to catalog the collectibles. I’ll do those things before I approach Brody.”

“Excellent, Catherine. I’m so glad you thought of Maggie’s house for him. That man deserves a break.”

“One other thing, Gran.” Cathy looked down at the check on the table. “Although my priority is the pet business, I’d like to put aside some cash for my college education. You know I’ve been thinking of going back to school.”

Florence liked that idea. “Doug and I will support you on that, and I’ll help you research some colleges if you want. Are you thinking of starting in the fall?”

“Yes. Part-time at the beginning just to get my feet wet if you know what I mean. It’s been some time since I was a student.”

Florence smiled. “You’re a bright girl. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Wait until Nancy hears. I hope she and Pauline aren’t upset that I’ll have less time to take photos for the Buttercup Bugle and that Doug won’t be disappointed that I won’t be able to work more hours at Rainbow Rescues after Becky has her baby.”

“It’s about time Pauline hired a journalism intern to help them and that Nancy take a course in photography. As far as the extra work at Rainbow Rescues, you should advertise for more volunteers. There’s enough to pay some people if need be. The main thing is that you follow your dream, Catherine. I know your parents would want that for you.”

The thought of her mother and father brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve, gently touching her scarred cheek. “Thanks, Gran. Now I just need to decide what to study.”

“You’ll find your path, dear. It’ll become clear once you step on the road.”

Cathy smiled. She was proud to have such a wise grandmother.

CHAPTER FIFTY

When Cathy notified Brody that they would be renting Maggie’s house to him, he was thrilled. Florence invited him to dinner along with Doug and Becky, so everyone involved could discuss the details together. Howard also joined them.

Doug arrived alone, explaining that Becky had just wanted to eat a light supper and rest at home. He explained that their doctor notified them at Becky’s last appointment that her due date might be sooner than originally anticipated and put her on bed rest because of her slightly elevated blood pressure. Florence said, “I knew it. I predicted your baby would arrive before the end of May. It’s already June 4th, but I don’t think It’ll be far off.”

After everyone had eaten Florence’s spaghetti and meatballs and commented on the delicious homemade sauce, Cathy handed a paper to Brody that she’d shown Doug earlier that set the terms of his lease. Norman had already reviewed it. Brody signed and said it was very reasonable and that Dr. Graham had spoken with him about assigning him more hours and duties at the animal clinic. He volunteered to help Cathy clean up the house in preparation for his move there, but he wasn’t in a hurry because Sandra told him he could stay at the inn as long as he liked.

Florence served coffee and dessert and then took a seat back at her place. The kitchen fell silent except for the ticking of the wall clock until Florence raised her coffee mug. “I’d like to propose a toast to Maggie.”

“Just a minute, Mrs. Wilson,” Brody said. “Sandra gave me somethin’ ta bring over fer ya to celebrate wit.” He went to his car and returned with a bottle of champagne. Howard did the honors of uncorking it while Florence brought over five glasses. She poured the fizzy liquid into each one and handed them around. “To Maggie,” she said, lifting her glass, “who, because of her love of cats, has made it possible for Rainbow Rescues to help more abandoned animals and for Buttercup Bend residents to memorialize their pets at Rainbow Gardens.”

The following day, Cathy heard from Nancy. She called her on her cell phone. They had already discussed Cathy going to college and cutting back her time at the newspaper. Nancy called for a different reason. “Cat, I’m so excited. Brian asked me to the dance Friday night.”

Although the dances were usually held around the fifteenth of each month, Pastor Green thought scheduling the June one a week early would help lighten the somber mood that had touched the town after the murders and Joan Dexter’s arrest. “That’s great, Nancy, so you’re through with Michael?”

“I didn’t say that. I haven’t heard from him, but if he ever calls, I might give him another shot.”

“You’re not leading Brian on, are you?” Cathy was worried her friend was up to her old tricks regarding boyfriends.

“No. I like Brian. I’m glad he’s interested, but I’m taking it slow. Friendship for now. I’m not quite ready to settle down.”

Cathy recalled how Nancy had professed her love for Michael and wondered if that had only been infatuation for the handsome vet. What if he called again? Would she drop Brian like a hot potato? She hoped not.

“I have some news, too. Brody is moving into Maggie’s house. He’ll be paying us rent. Would you still be available to catalog the collectibles with him? Doug already created a website shop for Rainbow Rescues.”

“Sure. I’m happy to lend a hand. What about Maggie’s cats?”

“Brian may want to keep one, but the rest will go to the new rescue center we’re opening. We’ll be making those arrangements soon.”

After talking a few more minutes with Nancy, Cathy said goodbye and disconnected the call. Florence was out with Howard. They’d started dating again but locally now, and he’d told her he was considering moving to Buttercup Bend and opening a detective agency there. Florence thought he was crazy because there was hardly any crime in the town. Maggie and Gladys had been anomalies, but Howard insisted that his agency would cover the surrounding villages and that he wasn’t in it for the money. He still received a pension, but he liked to keep busy and had always been interested in detective work. Since he didn’t want to step on any toes, he’d mentioned his venture to Leroy who gave his approval.

Howard also said he was thinking of asking Nancy to work part-time for him. He hadn’t yet asked her, but Cathy thought she’d jump at the opportunity. It made Cathy feel better about returning to college and spending less time with her friend. However, she wouldn’t be surprised if Nancy insisted that Howard also offer her some work, and the idea brought back that tingle of excitement she’d felt investigating Maggie’s murder.

There was a knock on the door, and Cathy answered it to find Steve standing there. He wore a raincoat, although the dark skies had not yet produced any rain.

“Hi, Steve. You’re here to do the weekly maintenance of Rainbow Gardens, right? I have a check for you.”

“Yes, I’ll take care of that, and I’ll get the money from you later, but I wanted to speak with you about something else.”

“Sure. Come on in.” Cathy tried to read his expression but couldn’t, although she sensed he was nervous by the way he was shuffling his feet and stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket.

“What’s up? Would you like some coffee or tea? I have soda, too.”

“No, that’s fine. I won’t take up much of your time, Cat. I just wanted to …” He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his eyes. “Uh, are you free Friday night? Pastor Green is having a Roaring Twenties jazz social, and I was hoping you might want to go with me again.”

“That sounds nice. I’ll be happy to.” She was aware they were alone in the house and hoped he would pick up where he had the times they’d been interrupted. Instead, he smiled. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty. Sorry to run, but I want to get the grounds work done before it starts to pour.” He walked out to the pet cemetery.

“Men,” Cathy thought. Maybe Nancy was right that the best thing to do was to play the field and keep things friendly until you knew exactly where you stood with them.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Steve was right to rush his outdoor work, Cathy reflected an hour later as heavy rain pelted the windows. She was upstairs going through the pet cemetery and rescue center’s files. Once everything was in order, they could put a down payment on the farmland. She’d already placed a call to their accountant, but she wanted to organize the bills that needed to be paid that month and handle the deposit of the lawyer’s check.

As Cathy sat at the desk, her cell phone rang. She thought it was either Nancy again or Florence, but the caller I.D. showed Becky’s number. Above the roar of the rain, Cathy spoke into the phone. “Hi, Becky. Is everything okay?” Since the doctor had put Becky on bedrest until the baby was born, Doug had been reluctant to leave her to go to work, but Florence assured him that she and Cathy were right next door if she needed them.

Cathy strained to hear Becky’s reply, but when she did, her heart began to race. “Cathy, I think I’m in labor. The pains are bad and coming fast. I’ve had them a few days, but the doctor said they were Braxton Hicks. Today, they’re worse. Can you come over, please?”

“Sure, but have you called Doug?”

Becky’s reply was a groan followed by a wail that was louder than the rain outside. When she caught her breath, she said, “I can’t reach him. He left his cell at home, and the post office told me he’s on a route. It’s pouring out, but the mail must go through, and he has his mail truck.”

“I’ll be right there.” Although Cathy’s grandmother told her that first babies could take hours, even days to be born, Cathy still didn’t like the idea of Becky being alone and in pain. She threw on her raincoat and rushed downstairs. Oliver meowed at her as she reached the front door. She hadn’t known he’d followed her.

“Sorry, Oliver. I have to leave. I’ll be back soon.” Cathy wondered if she should call Florence, but she hated to bother her on her date, and Steve was already gone. Taking the path to Becky’s house, she ran through the driving rain. She hadn’t taken an umbrella because the wind was so strong that the only thing that made sense was for her to keep her hood over her head.

As she passed Rainbow Rescues, she noticed a car in front. It was Michael’s. She’d forgotten today was the day for his monthly visit to the Rainbow Rescues. She saw him coming out of the building. He carried no umbrella either but wore a long rain slicker that covered his tall body. His dark hair was plastered to his head, and his glasses were full of water, but he managed to see her and waved. Calling over the din of the storm, he said, “Cathy, wait up. Where are you headed? Can I give you a lift?”

It didn’t make sense for her to drive the few yards to Becky’s house, but she joined him at the car. “Hi, Michael. I’m going over to Becky’s. She’s alone and not feeling well.”

“That’s too bad. I can come with you. I have some medical training, after all.”

Cathy had no idea what an animal doctor could do for a pregnant woman, but she didn’t mind having the company. “All right. Is everything good at Rainbow Rescues?”

“Indeed. All the pets check out fine.” Michael walked to her side, and they sloshed their way through the puddles to Becky’s door. As they stood there sopping wet, they heard Becky’s howls over the crack of thunder that now accompanied the downpour.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Cathy said, trying the door before knocking. It slid open, and she rushed through with Michael at her heels. “Becky, I’m here, and I’ve brought Michael. He was visiting the rescue today.”

“Thank God,” Becky cried from the couch. She was lying there with her knees up panting, her eyes squeezed shut as she bore down. “Come quick. I think the baby’s coming.”

Cathy ran to her and took her hand. Becky gripped it in a crushing squeeze as she let out a scream that mixed with another clap of thunder.

“Don’t worry,” Michael said, and Cathy knew he was talking to both her and Becky. “Everything will be fine. When I first attended veterinary school, I thought I wanted to be an equine vet. I assisted at several deliveries of baby foals, so I have experience with births.” He sat down at the opposite end of the couch by Becky’s feet. “Let me just have a look. Is that okay?”

Tears were starting to gather on Becky’s sweat-filled face. “Please. I’m so scared …”

“Don’t be. Women used to deliver at home in the old days. Some still prefer natural childbirth today. It’s a natural function of the body.”

Cathy thought about all the deaths and complications that also occurred from home births, but she didn’t want to frighten Becky any further. After Michael examined her and confirmed the fact that it was too late to get Becky to a hospital, he instructed Cathy to retrieve a few items to help with the delivery. She hated to leave Becky’s side, but she wanted to help Michael. As she released her sister-in-law’s hand, Becky cried out, “No, Cat. Don’t go. Please. The baby’s coming.” She began to pant and push again.

“I’ll be right back, Becky. I need to help Michael.”

Becky fell back against the couch pillow and closed her eyes. She seemed exhausted. Cathy ran to find the things Michael had asked for – a knife from the kitchen to cut the cord, some rags, and a pot of boiling water to sterilize everything. He already had another pair of disposable gloves from his visit at Rainbow Rescues. He put them on as Cathy went to fill his requests. In the sake of saving time, she microwaved the water in a microwaveable bowl she found in one of Becky’s cabinets. Doug always had rags on hand to polish and dust, so she was happy to find a bunch of these in the same cabinet, and there were several knives in the kitchen drawer. She got everything together and headed back to Becky. Balancing the hot water caused her to walk slower than she wanted, but she managed to bring all the items in one trip by using both hands and taking small steps.

“It’s looking good,” Michael said when she got there, but she saw his shaky hands. He had taken off his raincoat and hung it on the back of a chair. His glasses were clear, so she figured he’d wiped them.

Becky was bearing down again, her teeth clenched. After leaving the supplies by Michael, Cathy hurried over to Becky and gripped her hand again. “You’re doing great,” she said trying to sound positive.

“I think it’s only going to take one more push,” Michael said. “I see the head.”

Becky let out a very long scream, and Cathy felt as if she’d broken her hand with a death grip. But looking across at Michael, she saw him cradling the baby who let out a whoop as he slapped it on the rear. Then he lay it across Becky’s stomach. Cathy gazed in amazement at her new nephew while Becky, tears streaming from her eyes, whispered. “My baby. Thank you. Both of you.”

“He’ll need a little cleaning up,” Michael said, “and so will I, but congratulations, Mommy. And, Cathy, you might want to call Florence. I don’t think she’d mind her date being interrupted with the news that she has a new great grandson.”

Cathy was about to make the call when the front door opened, letting in a stream of sunlight that appeared as the storm receded. Doug stepped through, a worried expression on his face. “Becky, I got your message at the post office when I finished my route …” He stopped short. “What the?”

“Welcome home, Doug,” Cathy said. “Becky has a surprise for you.”

Doug’s mouth opened in astonishment. He looked from his wife to the baby she was now holding. Michael had cleaned him off and handed him to her.

Doug approached the couch, taking quiet steps. Michael stood up and allowed Doug to join his family.

“It’s a boy,” Becky said, beaming. “I’d like to name him Douglas Michael for the two men who helped bring him into the world.” She handed the sleepy baby to Doug who looked as though he was about to faint. Cathy understood how unreal this felt to him. She could hardly believe it herself.

“I can bring my car around to take you to the hospital,” Michael offered. “The doctors should check out Becky and the baby, but I’m sure they’re fine. There’s enough room for everyone in my van.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Mike,” Doug said peering down at his son.

“Becky already did by giving your son my middle name. That’s quite an honor.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Becky and Baby Doug checked out fine at the hospital and only spent a night there. Florence and Howard had met Cathy and the others at the hospital after Florence received Cathy’s call. She’d been delighted at her first great grandchild and oohed and aahed over him shamelessly.

The following day, Pauline, having heard the news, called Florence to congratulate her and let her know that Doug, Jr.’s birth announcement would be published in the next Buttercup Bugle. Nancy also called while Cathy was in her room and wanted all the details. When Cathy explained that Michael had been there to help, Nancy said, “Maybe the two of you can hook up since you work so well together.”

“Delivering a baby isn’t exactly working together, Nance, and Becky did most of the work.”

“Even so. You’ve had a bonding moment. Maybe our dating game results have some validity.”

Cathy laughed, recalling their pajama party. “I have to run now, Nancy. Gran and I are bringing Becky all the shower gifts. Leroy returned them this morning.”

“Great! I hope she finds something she likes with my gift card.”

“I’m sure she will.”

After Cathy disconnected the call, Oliver woke up and began circling her and giving her head butts that signaled he wanted to be brushed. She reached over the headboard to grab his special comb, the one she used daily to groom him. It featured a curved head with bristles that fit snugly between his ears. She started there and then brushed each furry cheek. When she was done with his face, she glided the brush through his fur down his back and up his tail. All the while, he purred. When she rode the brush up his tail, he arched his back. For the finale, she lay the brush down, and he rubbed his cheeks against it to continue his own self-grooming. “You silly boy,” she smiled. “You certainly love to be brushed.”

Florence called upstairs to let Cathy know they’d be leaving for Doug and Becky’s house to deliver the gifts. As she joined her grandmother, a knock sounded at the door. Cathy answered it to find Michael standing there.

“Good morning, Cathy. Sorry to drop by unannounced. I was on the way to work and just wanted to come by to see how Becky and the baby are doing.”

“Oh, they’re great, Michael. Gran and I are leaving soon to bring the shower gifts over to them.”

“I have a few minutes. I can give you a hand if you’d like.”

Before Cathy could reply, Florence came into the room pulling a hand truck full of boxes. “Hello, Michael. I heard your kind offer. There’s another stack of boxes in the kitchen. The gifts were already opened when they were examined, but Leroy had some of his officers package them up and left the tags on them so Becky and Doug would know who gave them.”

“I’ll be glad to help you with the other batch,” Michael said. “This way you don’t need to make another trip.” As he headed for the kitchen, Florence said to Cathy, “It was nice of Michael to stop by. I was going to call Steve, but he’s out working at the MaGregor farm today. He’s promised to help us with the new land when the purchase goes through.”

Michael returned, carrying boxes that reached up to his nose.

“Are there any left?” Cathy asked.

“No. That’s the bulk of it.”

“Then let me take a few of those. You won’t be able to see where you walk.” She reached out for some of the top boxes, and a few tumbled to the floor. They both laughed. “I guess I took more than I could handle,” he admitted.

“I’ve done that myself more times than I can say.”

After bringing the gifts to Becky who was nursing the baby while Doug, who had taken time off from the post office was preparing her breakfast, they spent a few minutes chatting and Baby Doug’s great grandma spent more time admiring him.

Michael said he had to get to the animal hospital, and Florence suggested Cathy see him out while she continued to help Becky go through the shower gifts.

Outside in the early sunshine, Cathy walked Michael to his car. “There was something I wanted to ask you,” Michael said as they reached his van.

“I had something to ask you, too.”

“Ladies first.” He looked at her through his glasses, his blue eyes as clear as the sky.

“I was wondering how Brody is doing. Is he a good employee?”

“Excellent. In fact, I’m thinking of training him to work with the animals. He certainly has a knack with them, and he’s very good with people, too.”

“Maybe he should go back to school and study to be a vet.”

“He’d have to complete high school first, but it’s possible. Even if he doesn’t become a veterinarian, he could earn a veterinary technician certificate.”

“It’s nice of you to give him a chance.” They were leaning against the side of the van. Cathy was aware how close their bodies were.

“You saw his potential and had him apply at the animal hospital.” Michael paused. “Speaking of potential, your grandmother tells me you’re going back to school.”

“When did she tell you that?”

“When we were at the hospital. You were still pretty shell shocked from witnessing your nephew’s birth.”

Cathy smiled. “You’re right. I’m planning to enroll in college in September.”

“That’s wonderful. Have you chosen a school and a major yet?”

“I’m still thinking about it. I’ve been Googling some nearby colleges. I don’t want to leave Gran, so I’ll be commuting. I’ll probably start part-time and finish my core courses, so I can still help Pauline at the newspaper and Florence and Becky with Rainbow Rescues and Rainbow Gardens.”

“Sounds like you’ll be pretty busy and that you have a lot of choices to make.” Michael opened his car door.

“Wait. Didn’t you want to ask me something?”

He paused. “Oh, yes. Pastor Green is organizing another social at the church Friday night. Would you like to go with me?”

Cathy could’ve screamed. She’d already agreed to go with Steve. “I’m sorry, Michael. I have another date for that dance, but maybe we could go to the next one.”

“Sure.” His blue eyes seemed to fade as a cloud passed across the sun. “I’ll call you.”

Cathy watched him get behind the wheel and drive away. He was right. Now that her future lay ahead of her, she had many choices to make.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

While a book is usually written by one author, no book is published without the help of many people; beta readers, proofreaders, cover designers, publishers, editors, agents, friends, family members, and others who support the author. While I can’t thank everyone who helped guide this project, the first of my Buttercup Bend cozy mysteries, into print, I’d like to thank several special people.

First, I need to thank the fine staff at Next Chapter Publishing especially Miika Hannila whose vision for marketing, distributing, and promoting books worldwide in various formats has allowed several of my other titles to find their places on both virtual and real bookshelves.

I’d also like to acknowledge my fellow Next Chapter authors. I’m honored to be a part of this talented team of writers.

The following people gave me valuable feedback and advice as I was going through the various drafts of this novel. I want to express my appreciation to Adam Zorzi, Linda Reilly, Chris Keane, Robyn Conley, Lisa Q. Matthews, and Lesley St. James.

Thanks also to my author friends, my husband, daughter, and all those who have encouraged my writing especially my readers who make all the hard work worthwhile. If you enjoy this book and any of my others, I’d be grateful for a brief review on any book sites you prefer.

Next in the Series:

The Case of the Parrot Loving Professor

(Buttercup Bend Mysteries Book 2)

Cathy Carter knew that returning to college would be tough, but she never expected it would involve finding her anthropology professor’s dead body.

There are no shortages of suspects in Dr. Bodkin’s murder. Besides his three ex-wives and estranged son and daughter, there are also the members of the Talking Parrots Club, a group of four parrot enthusiasts, of which he was the president and founder.

As Cathy delves into Bodkin’s murder, she discovers a relationship between her teacher and the Mennonite family from whom she purchased the farmland for her new pet rescue center. She and her friend Nancy, now employed at a detective agency, work together to help Detective Hunt and Sheriff Miller solve the crime.

After receiving cryptic messages, they wonder if someone wants to put a stop to their investigation. With the Buttercup Bend church's 1970's costume dance and Cathy's birthday fast approaching, can she and Nancy bring Bodkin's killer to justice without endangering their lives?

The Case of the Parrot Loving Professor

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debbie De Louise is an award-winning author and a reference librarian at a public library on Long Island. She is a member of Sisters-in-Crime, International Thriller Writers, Long Island Authors Group, and the Cat Writers’ Association. Her Cobble Cove mystery series published by Solstice Publishing includes A Stone's Throw, Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Written in Stone, and Love on the Rocks. Debbie has also written articles and short stories for several anthologies of various genres and a romantic comedy novella, When Jack Trumps Ace. She is also the author of two standalone novels; Reason to Die, a mystery, and Cloudy Rainbow, a paranormal romance. She lives on Long Island with her husband, daughter, and 3 cats.

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To learn more about Debbie De Louise, visit her author page on Next Chapter's website.