Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE SCUMBLE RIVER SERIES

  Murder of a Creped Suzette

  “Tongue-in-cheek humor, complex motives, and unique murders. The latest cleverly crafted tale is another entertaining mystery.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Another great book by this master of the small-town mystery.”

  —CrimeSpree Magazine

  Murder of a Bookstore Babe

  “In the latest installment in her cozy Scumble River series, Swanson serves up another irresistible slice of romance-spiced mystery.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “As always, Skye Denison and Scumble River provide a reliable, enjoyable mystery. Reading about Scumble River is as comfortable as being in your own hometown. Skye’s quirky assortment of relatives never fails to disappoint.”

  —The Mystery Reader

  Murder of a Wedding Belle

  “The latest carefully crafted installment in Swanson’s Scumble River series features a charming heroine, who is equally skilled at juggling detection and romance.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “This book was very hard to put down. I enjoyed it tremendously and highly recommend it.”

  —Gumshoe

  “As always…Swanson combines humor and romance within an intriguing homicide investigation, while the support cast feels like friends.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “Another winner.…This series always brings a smile and this one is loads of fun.”

  —CrimeSpree Magazine

  Murder of a Royal Pain

  “The series remains fresh and dramatic; a great combination, which translates to an enjoyable and intriguing reading experience.”

  —Once Upon a Romance

  “A trip to Scumble River is like visiting with old friends…another entry into a fine series that is sure to be on most must-read lists.”

  —The Mystery Reader

  “Swanson has given me many a smile and many hours of wonderful, fun reading. This is another in a long line of really great books.”

  —CrimeSpree Magazine

  “Just plain fun to read. Readers of cozy mysteries who haven’t read Denise Swanson’s books are in for a real treat when they do.”

  —Cozy Library

  Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry

  “[A] cleverly crafted plot…with a generous dash of romance.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Top-notch storytelling with truly unique and wonderful characters.”

  —CrimeSpree Magazine

  Murder of a Botoxed Blonde

  “Endearing…quirky…a delight.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Tight plotting and plenty of surprises keep this series on my must-read list.”

  —CrimeSpree Magazine

  Murder of a Real Bad Boy

  “Swanson is a born storyteller.”

  —CrimeSpree Magazine

  “Another knee-slapping adventure in Scumble River.”

  —The Amplifier (KY)

  Murder of a Smart Cookie

  “Smartly spins on a solid plot and likable characters.”

  —South Florida Sun-Sentinel

  “[Swanson] has a lot of surprises in store for the reader.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Murder of a Pink Elephant

  “The must-read book of the summer.”

  —Butler County Post (KY)

  “Current readers will appreciate the trip into Scumble River, while new readers will want to go back.”

  —The Best Reviews

  Murder of a Barbie and Ken

  “Swanson continues her lively, light, and quite insightful look at small-town life.”

  —The Hartford Courant

  “Another sidesplitting visit to Scumble River…with some of the quirkiest and most eccentric characters we ever have met.”

  —Butler County Post (KY)

  Murder of a Snake in the Grass

  “An endearing and realistic character…a fast-paced, enjoyable read.”

  —The Herald News (MA)

  “This book is delightful.”

  —Mysterious Woman

  Murder of a Sleeping Beauty

  “A smooth, pleasant, and ultimately satisfying book.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Another delightful and intriguing escapade.”

  —Mystery News

  Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

  “More fun than the Whirl-A-Gig at the County Fair and tastier than a corn dog.”

  —Charlotte Austin Review

  “A magnificent tale written by a wonderful author.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  Murder of a Small-Town Honey

  “Bounces along with gently wry humor and jaunty twists and turns. The quintessential amateur sleuth: bright, curious, and more than a little nervy.”

  —Agatha Award–winning author Earlene Fowler

  “A charming, insightful debut.”

  —Carolyn Hart

  Also by Denise Swanson

  SCUMBLE RIVER MYSTERIES

  “Not a Monster of a Chance,” short story in

  And the Dying Is Easy

  “Dead Blondes Tell No Tales,” e-book novella in

  Drop-Dead Blonde

  Murder of a Creped Suzette

  Murder of a Bookstore Babe

  Murder of a Wedding Belle

  Murder of a Royal Pain

  Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry

  Murder of a Botoxed Blonde

  Murder of a Real Bad Boy

  Murder of a Smart Cookie

  Murder of a Pink Elephant

  Murder of a Barbie and Ken

  Murder of a Snake in the Grass

  Murder of a Sleeping Beauty

  Murder of a Sweet Old Lady

  Murder of a Small-Town Honey

  DEVEREAUX’S DIME STORE MYSTERIES

  Little Shop of Homicide

  Murder of the

  Cat’s Meow

  A Scumble River Mystery

  Denise Swanson

  AN OBSIDIAN MYSTERY

  OBSIDIAN

  Published by New American Library, a division of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:

  80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  First Printing, September 2012

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Copyright © Denise Swanson Stybr, 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-59955-6

  OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Printed in the United States of America

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

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

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  To my fellow cat lovers:

  I promise you no kitties are harmed in this story.

  Author’s Note

  In July of 2000, when the first book in my Scumble River series, Murder of a Small-Town Honey, was published, it was written in “real time.” It was the year 2000 in Skye’s life as well as mine, but after several books in a series, time becomes a problem. It takes me from seven months to a year to write a book, and then it is usually another year from the time I turn that book in to my editor until the reader sees it on a bookstore shelf. This can make the timeline confusing. Different authors handle this matter in different ways. After a great deal of deliberation, I decided that Skye and her friends and family would age more slowly than those of us who don’t live in Scumble River. So to catch everyone up, the following is when the books take place:

  Murder of a Small-Town Honey—August 2000

  Murder of a Sweet Old Lady—March 2001

  Murder of a Sleeping Beauty—April 2002

  Murder of a Snake in the Grass—August 2002

  Murder of a Barbie and Ken—November 2002

  Murder of a Pink Elephant—February 2003

  Murder of a Smart Cookie—June 2003

  Murder of a Real Bad Boy—September 2003

  Murder of a Botoxed Blonde—November 2003

  Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry—April 2004

  Murder of a Royal Pain—October 2004

  Murder of a Wedding Belle—June 2005

  Murder of a Bookstore Babe—September 2005

  Murder of a Creped Suzette—October 2005

  Murder of the Cat’s Meow—March 2006

  And this is when the Scumble River short story and novella take place:

  “Not a Monster of a Chance” in And the Dying Is Easy—June 2001

  “Dead Blondes Tell No Tales” in Drop-Dead Blonde—March 2003

  Scumble River is not a real town. The characters and events portrayed in these pages are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to living persons is pure coincidence.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Raining Cats and Dogs

  Chapter 2: Quick As a Cat

  Chapter 3: Who’ll Bell the Cat?

  Chapter 4: Cheshire Cat Smile

  Chapter 5: Curiosity Killed the Cat

  Chapter 6: When a Black Cat Crosses Your Path

  Chapter 7: Let the Cat Out of the Bag

  Chapter 8: Crazier Than John Smith’s Cat

  Chapter 9: Look What the Cat Dragged In

  Chapter 10: Morals of an Alley Cat and Scruples of a Snake

  Chapter 11: The Catbird Seat

  Chapter 12: The Cat Will Meow

  Chapter 13: A Cat Has Nine Lives

  Chapter 14: Busier Than a One-eyed Cat Watching Two Mouse Holes

  Chapter 15: There’s More Than One Way to Pet a Cat

  Chapter 16: Nervous as a Cat

  Chapter 17: While the Cat’s Away

  Chapter 18: Playing Cat and Mouse

  Chapter 19: Scaredy-cat

  Chapter 20: All Cats Are Gray in the Dark

  Chapter 21: Catcall

  Chapter 22: Not Enough Room to Swing a Cat

  Chapter 23: Has the Cat Got Your Tongue?

  Chapter 24: Cat-o’-nine-tails

  Epilogue: The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary

  Nickeled and Dimed to Death

  CHAPTER 1

  Raining Cats and Dogs

  School psychologist Skye Denison stamped her bunny-slippered foot on the black-and-white-tiled floor of her newly remodeled kitchen and shouted, “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to convince Wally we should live here once we’re married.”

  Silence greeted her threat. Not surprising, since she was the only person in the house. At least the only living person. Which was the problem.

  Although Skye’s fiancé, police chief Wally Boyd, claimed he didn’t believe in ghosts, it was kind of hard to ignore the fact that nearly every time he and Skye started to get intimate, something in her house blew up, burst into flames, or broke into a thousand pieces.

  Skye’s gaze flitted from the granite counters to the stainless-steel fridge and came to rest on the cherrywood cupboards. She’d been renovating the house since she’d inherited it from Alma Griggs more than two and a half years ago. There was still a lot to do, and the process, so far, had been both frustrating and costly. But there was no way she was selling the place and moving into Wally’s bungalow.

  “Do you hear me, Mrs. Griggs?”

  There was no response.

  “Fine.” Skye blew out an annoyed breath and grabbed the broom. As she swept up the shards of what had been her Grandma Leofanti’s Jade-Ite cookie jar, she muttered under her breath, “You’re leaving me no choice.”

  Skye had tolerated the situation for as long as she could. While she and Wally were engaged, it was all well and good for them to confine their lovemaking to nights spent at Wally’s place. But once they were married, he needed to be able to move into her house without fear of some disaster forcing them out of bed just when things were getting interesting.

  Like this morning, when Wally had stopped by to tell her that his annulment was in the final stages and Father Burns had assured him that it would be completed by the end of April. Skye had been on Wally’s lap, celebrating the good news with a lingering kiss, when the cookie jar flew off the counter and smashed at their feet. It was a miracle neither of them had been injured by flying glass or Oreo shrapnel.

  Wally had blamed Skye’s cat for the incident, but she knew Bingo wasn’t the culprit. The chubby feline had tried and failed on several occasions to leap onto the counter. It was too high, and he was too portly. Besides, there was no food sitting out, and without the enticement of something edible to motivate him, Bingo rarely moved farther than the next pool of sunlight.

  Skye stepped out onto her back porch. “I’m giving you one more chance,” she said, shivering in the cold March wind and rain, as she threw the sharp fragments of the dearly departed cookie jar into the trash can. “If so much as a door slams shut the next time Wally and I start to make love here, I’m getting rid of you.” It was time to put an end to Mrs. Griggs’s reign of terror—one way or another.

  Marching back into the kitchen, Skye grabbed a thin blue folder from where she had hidden it at the bottom of her junk drawer, sat down at the table, and stared nervously at the file. Just as she inserted a finger beneath the tab, the telephone rang, and she jumped back. Could Mrs. Griggs be phoning to apologize?

  Skye giggled at her own silliness. It was one thing to believe the spirit of the house’s previous owner was present, but quite another to think the woman could call from the great beyond.

  Halfway to her feet, Skye sank back in the chair. It was probably the same annoying telemarketer that had been pestering her for the past week. A company claiming that it could lower her credit card rates had been calling her three or four times a day, an
d she’d finally resolved to let her answering machine act as a buffer.

  Skye knew that at ten a.m. on a nonworkday morning her best friend, school librarian Trixie Frayne, would still be fast asleep. Despite being married to a farmer, Trixie was not an early riser, so the call wouldn’t be from her.

  And it wouldn’t be Wally, since he was on his way to Springfield to begin the last part of the Illinois police chief certification program. The first stage had required only documentation of his extensive law enforcement experience, including leadership abilities, education, and training. But for this final phase, he had to complete written tests that would take all afternoon and several hours the next day. He had told Skye that although the accreditation wasn’t required, he felt it was important for him to have it in order to be a good role model for the officers under his command.

  When the phone stopped ringing, then immediately started up again, Skye frowned. Maybe it wasn’t the telemarketer. She doubted a computerized system would continue to redial again and again.

  It couldn’t be her brother, Vince. Saturday morning was the busiest time at his hair salon. The usual suspect would be her mother, but she and Skye’s father had left last night for a weekend stay at Ho-Chunk Casino near the Wisconsin Dells.

  Who did that leave? Skye’s godfather, Charlie Patukas, would just hop in his Cadillac and drive over if he wanted to talk to her that urgently. Which meant…

  Shoot! It had to be either Frannie or Justin, or both. During their high school years, Frannie Ryan and Justin Boward had been coeditors of the school newspaper, which Skye and Trixie sponsored. Although they were no longer her students, Skye had remained close to them, and since they were attending Joliet Junior College and lived at home, they still frequently asked her for help.

  Skye groaned in surrender, pushed the file aside, and rose from her chair. Figuring out how to get rid of Mrs. Griggs’s ghost would have to wait a little longer. Peering at the phone where it hung on her kitchen wall, Skye focused on the caller ID—something she should have done several minutes ago.