A Dreadful Meow-ment (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 2), стр. 31
“Huh.” Shep tips his head. “The plot thickens.”
Lloyd gives a wistful shake of the head. “That’ll happen when you start adding women into the mix.”
The two of them share a chauvinistic chuckle before Lloyd waves as he starts to take off.
“I’ll see you both at the funeral. Wear a Hawaiian shirt if you got one, Shep. This is a party for Craig, and we’re seeing him out in style.”
He takes off and Shep turns my way.
“Craig was known for his love of Hawaiian shirts.”
“That explains the tie that night.”
We’re about to head toward the homicide division when a woman with a dark head of hair and a knowing gleam in her vindictive eyes that only an ex can have pops up.
“Nora.” Shep nods her way. “I’m here. What’s going on?”
She expands her lips my way. “I see the two of you are inseparable. Isn’t that precious.” She smears it with just the right amount of sarcasm, and I can almost respect her for it. The more I get to peer into the dark soul behind the iron ex-fiancée curtain, the more I like Nora. She’s not nearly as annoying as Hilary and not anywhere close to as psychotic as Regina. Why Shep let this little bitter gem of a gun-toting gal get away, I will never know.
She produces a thick envelope from behind her back and hands it over to Shep.
“Your walking papers in reverse. I’m here to formally invite you back into the fold. Your old position just vacated again, and I’d love nothing more than to work elbow-to-elbow with you.”
Shep stares at the manila envelope a moment before accepting it.
“I’m flattered.” He dips his chin as he looks her way. “You do realize this writing gig is working out for me.”
She laughs. “And it was working for you the last time you worked here as well. I’d take part-time if that’s all you are willing to give. It’ll add a few more dollars to your bank account. Don’t answer now. Take some time to think about it.” Her eyes ride up and down my body. “I’m not sure why, but this one looks like she appreciates the finer things in life.”
As much as a part of me wants to be offended at the dig, the rest of me appreciates feeling so seen.
“Don’t worry, Bowie.” She rolls her eyes when she says my name. “You’ll still get plenty of time with your fiancé.” She glowers over at Shep a moment. “That is, if this is real at all. I have a feeling it is all a setup to try to stave off a full-blown attack from Hilary.” She shudders when she says her name. I knew I liked this woman. “Hilary was the high school sweetheart; I was college,” she says, looking right at me. “And after that, let’s just say it was a very long-drawn-out free-for-all.” She leans in. “I’d get tested for any communicable diseases if I were you.”
Shep’s chest bounces with a dry laugh.
“You’re a riot.” He waves the envelope in his hand. “I just spoke to Lloyd about the case. He’s helping out, huh? I guess there’s no stopping him.”
“Nope.” She makes a face. “And to be truthful, I don’t mind all hands on deck. This was personal for him. But don’t think for a minute I’m not beating Lloyd to the punch. I’ll be solving this case—and arresting the killer. Just you wait and see.”
She takes off just as that vision I had the day Lloyd stepped into the Manor Café comes back to me. Lloyd with a grief-stricken look on his face. “You killed Craig. You did this. How dare you try to weasel out of it. And you’re not going to kill me. I won’t let you.”
Maybe Nora will arrest the killer, but it sure sounds as if Lloyd will discover who it is just a touch sooner.
But then, my visions have been known to go astray.
And I’m betting it will be me who finds the killer.
And when I do, I bet that lipstick tube will have something to do with it.
Chapter 13
All last night and well into the morning I’ve been walking on air.
I spoke with my father.
My father—the same father that my mother, Marie Snag-Herself-a-Younger-Man Santini declared was as good as dead the day he was hauled off to prison.
She wasn’t wrong. But thankfully for me, he is very much alive.
And in an odd turn of events, that walking on air feeling wasn’t exclusively because of the fact I was able to speak to my father—although that was beyond my wildest, and quite recent, dreams—it had a little something to do with a certain best-selling author slash private eye.
I know.
I know.
Shepherd Wexler isn’t the plot twist I need in my already tumultuous life. In fact, he’s the exact opposite of what I need.
My focus should be on protecting myself. I should make my way to the Great White North and find myself a heavily wooded region run by elves or fairies or vampires. The last thing I need to do is remain in Starry Falls with real humans, falling in love with this blip on the map of a town, with the people, with Shep.
There.
I said it.
I’m falling hard and fast and I can see the concrete coming up quickly. This is going to end badly. And it’s going to hurt. I can feel it.
In no universe do I end up with Shep Wexler. And that’s exactly why I’ve decided to squash my feelings like a bug—a love bug.
It’s the next afternoon and both Shep and Hilary have been sitting side by side working on her fictitious novel—which is ironically fiction.
“Why is he being so nice to her?” I hiss