A Dreadful Meow-ment (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 2), стр. 28

So it begins.

But I choose to ignore her silent tantrum of defiance, and instead dot a kiss to the cute cat in Opal’s arms.

“Opal, can I please have Pixie and Lucky?” I touch my nose to the sweet one-eyed cat in Shep’s arm, and I swear he purred right into my soul. Either that or it was Shep growling at me for getting too close. “I promise to keep them both in catnip, until death do us part.”

“Not on your life.” She gives a sly wink to Pixie. “But negotiations will be open if I can see another financial infusion in this place. How’s the mother-daughter soiree coming along?”

“Great,” I say. “In fact, Tilly and I are making up flyers and hitting up every shop on Main Street for donations to fill that basket we’re going to raffle off.”

“And I’ve got just the picture of a hot shirtless man for those flyers.” Tilly tries to swipe Pixie from Opal, but it’s a no-go. “Trust me, there won’t be a mother or daughter in town who doesn’t show up on our doorstep for the dirty dance-off.”

Somehow I think signals have been severely crossed when it comes to Tilly’s understanding of the event at hand.

Shep looks my way. “Actually, I was hoping to steal you away, Bowie.”

Regina scoffs. “What’s this? An afternoon tryst?” She clucks her tongue at him. “How I miss our afternoon delights. I don’t suppose you’d be up to extend an invite to the party?” Her fingers fumble with his collar. “What do you say we ditch the fake redhead on our way back to my place?”

I glance at myself in the mirror across from me and shrug. I guess the Cherry Coke color my Uncle Vinnie picked out is still working its magic in my tresses after all.

“No can do.” Shep nods my way. “Whenever you get a chance.”

“Chance,” I say, taking off my apron and handing it to Regina. “If you’re not going to wear them, you might as well start a collection. I’m taking off for the rest of the day to see what the hot-shot author has planned. Tag, you’re it. I’m leaving you in charge.” I have a feeling the only tyranny Regina will work under is her own.

Shep and I head out into the fresh spring air and he sets Lucky down on the porch, right next to the fifty other cats that are lounging around the kitty oasis Opal has created.

“Where are we off to?” I ask in a chipper tone that can only be achieved once you’ve left work early.

Shep glances past the crooked manor and off toward those mysterious falls that bleed white over the verdant hillside.

“We’re off to see the wizard,” he says.

“The wizard?” I’m almost amused. “And who would that be?”

“Your father.”

Okay, so I’m not really going to see my father, but I’m going to hear his voice—his precious, beautiful voice that I never thought I’d hear again once I left my life behind in Hastings.

Shep drives us up an evergreen-lined road that leads to the majestic marvels that watch over Starry Falls and give the town a part of its official moniker. It’s one thing to see them from the manor—and even there, in miniature, they look grand and spectacular—but up close the falls are a thing of wonder. There are two fountainheads at the top that merge in the middle to create one large sweeping, weeping display of watery glory.

Shep and I follow an empty trail to a clearing that affords a front and center view of the thunderous watery display, and I take a moment to breathe in the air scented with honeysuckle as my ears fill with the roar from the falls. It’s not egregiously loud, but it’s not a quiet whisper it is from the manor either.

Shep lands us at a bench that faces the otherworldly wonder.

“All right, Bowie, are you ready to do this?”

I nod. “And before we get started, I want to thank you for everything you’re doing for me.” I take him in as he holds all the Irish charm that his ancestors gifted him. That dark hair, those navy-rimmed pale blue eyes, a face that makes the women of the world drool. His genuine desire to help me out affords some peace into my otherwise chaotic life. Shep Wexler is the whole package. I reach over and pick up his hand. “I will never forget your kindness toward me. You really are one of the good guys.”

“Don’t start any rumors.”

A dull laugh bounces from me. “Have it your way.”

He holds his phone up. “Rules.” His jaw clenches and my insides cut with heat at the sight. There is nothing hotter than a gorgeous man about to bark out a few orders. “He’ll be calling in about seven minutes. This call will be recorded by the prison. It may or may not be listened to—we’ll treat it as the former. You’re my co-writer in this scenario. And we’re looking to glean some info for the sake of research on one of our upcoming books. Whether or not he catches on is entirely up to him. If he doesn’t get the hint and play along, I’m cutting the line.” He nods toward the falls. “We’ll be having a bad connection from the get-go.”

“Wow, you’re a criminal mastermind. I might have actually liked you in another lifetime. Heck, I sort of like you now.” I make a sour face. “Don’t start any rumors.”

Shep’s cheek rises on one side, an almost smile that doesn’t quite take flight.

“Bowie, there’s one more thing you should know. The reason I originally went to the Corbel Men’s Correctional Facility wasn’t to speak with your father all those years ago. It was to speak to mine.”

I suck in a quick breath. “You mean he’s at the same facility?” A few weeks back, when Shep confessed his father was doing time as well, it never occurred to me to ask