Strangled in Cherry Hills Read online

  Strangled in Cherry Hills

  A Cozy Cat Caper Mystery

  Book 6

  Paige Sleuth

  Copyright © 2016 Marla Bradeen (writing as Paige Sleuth)

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Marla Bradeen.

  This book or portions of it (excluding brief quotations) may not be reproduced without prior written permission from the publisher/author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), actual businesses, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If this ebook copy was not purchased by or for you, please purchase your own copy before reading. Thank you for respecting this author’s work.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  HALLOWEEN IN CHERRY HILLS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Matty, no!”

  Katherine Harper raced out of her apartment after the tortoiseshell cat. Matty moved with surprising speed, turning into a tawny-colored blur as she streaked down the hallway. No one watching would have guessed that just two minutes ago she had been sound asleep, snoring contentedly.

  At the other end of the corridor, the elevator doors parted. Kat’s lone third-floor neighbor stepped out.

  “Kat, hi!” Lucy Callahan waved as best she could around an armload of canvas grocery bags.

  “Lucy, don’t let Matty in the elevator.”

  “What?” The redhead looked around, but the bags blocked her view of the cat darting right past her legs.

  “Matty!” Kat yelled again, but she was too late. Already the elevator doors were closing.

  Matty sat down in one corner of the elevator and hooked her tail around her paws. The tilt of her chin suggested she knew she had just done something bad and her human couldn’t do anything to stop her.

  Kat reached the elevator just as the metal doors fused shut. “Fiddlesticks!” she said, smacking her palm against the seam.

  She jabbed the button a handful of times. When the doors didn’t part, she realized someone must have already called the elevator to another floor.

  Her gaze shifted to the stairwell.

  “Matty’s out here?” Lucy lifted her bags in an attempt to see what was going on below knee level.

  Kat sprinted to the stairwell, leaned against the bar handle, and shoved the door open with her shoulder. “She escaped from the apartment.”

  Before Lucy could ask for details, Kat ducked into the stairwell and pounded down the steps. Luckily, she lived on the top floor so there was only one way for Matty to go. And if she hurried, she just might make it to the ground floor before the elevator.

  She burst into the lobby, groaning when she saw William Peterson standing there with his hands on his hips.

  The older man scowled. “Kat Harper, was that your mangy animal?”

  Kat’s eyes swept across the lobby. “Where did you see her?”

  “It was in the elevator.” Mr. Peterson glared at her. “You ought to keep it in your own unit. I don’t want to be riding around with flea-carrying vermin.”

  “She doesn’t have fleas, Mr. Peterson.” Kat’s brow furrowed when the item in his arms caught her attention. “Why are there naked people on your tote bag?” The picture on the side depicted a shirtless man and a cleavage-baring woman engaged in a steamy embrace.

  Mr. Peterson shoved the bag behind his back. “That’s none of your business.”

  Kat shrugged, figuring he was right. She shifted her attention to the more urgent matter at hand. “Where did Matty go?”

  Mr. Peterson scratched his head as he looked around. “It was here just a moment ago.”

  A yellow-and-brown ball tore past them then, rocketing toward one of the windows that someone had left open a crack.

  Kat’s heart lurched. “Matty!” She ran for the exit, knowing she wouldn’t be fast enough.

  By the time she flung the lobby door open, Matty was almost around the building. Kat caught sight of the tortoiseshell’s gray-striped tail seconds before it disappeared.

  She feared Matty would be gone before she could catch up, but as soon as she cleared the corner of the building she spotted the cat sniffing at a patch of grass.

  Kat halted, resting her hands on her knees as she worked to catch her breath. “Matty, you’re a bad kitty.”

  The reprimand rolled right off the feline. She turned her nose up and sauntered away. When she found a patch of sunlight, she sat down. It was almost as if she knew this might be her only chance to relish the warmth before October turned to November and cold weather came to Cherry Hills, Washington—or Kat dragged her back inside.

  Kat took a step toward Matty. “You know you’re not supposed to be out here.”

  A dog barked, halting her in her tracks. Her gaze drifted a few feet away, her skin tingling when she saw a dachshund watching them. She scanned the area in search of the dog’s owner, but nobody else was around.

  Her thoughts shifted from getting Matty inside to the cat’s safety. The little dog only stood slightly taller than ankle level and looked harmless enough, but his bark struck her as fairly threatening and she didn’t want to take any chances.

  “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” she asked the dachshund.

  He barked twice, bouncing farther backward each time.

  Kat stepped closer. Although he was wearing a harness, it didn’t have a leash or any identification tags attached to it. Maybe, like Matty, he had escaped. From where, she couldn’t say. Kat didn’t recognize him as belonging to one of the neighbors. Still, she figured he must live nearby. Despite the green space around the perimeter of her apartment building, nobody would come over here just to walk their dog.

  Kat gave Matty a sidelong glance that hopefully communicated the cat’s need to stay put. Matty hunkered lower in the grass as if she understood.

  Refocusing on the dog, Kat crept toward him. When she got within two feet she could see his body quivering. Some of the pressure in her chest eased. Perhaps he hadn’t been trying to threaten Matty after all. Perhaps the show of bravado was only to mask his fear.

  The dog twisted around and bounded off. Kat watched him for a second, torn between chasing after him to make sure he returned home safely and getting Matty back upstairs.

  But Matty clearly didn’t want to go back inside. She darted after the dachshund.

  “Matty!” Kat shouted.

  The dog wove through several backyards. Matty stayed behind him, and Kat brought up the rear. With the dog in the lead instead of Matty, Kat didn’t have to exert herself nearly as much. The dachshund kept up a steady pace, but his stubby legs couldn’t compete with Matty’s long strides. Plus, he kept pausing to look behind him. It was almost as if he wanted to make sure he didn’t lose them.

  He turned right a few houses down and made his way toward a chain-link fence, heading for one of the door-sized entryways cut into it.

  Kat surveyed their surroundings as she and Matty followed. From the open space and organized layout of the trees dotting the area, she figured they were in a small park. Straight ahead on the other side of the fence was a much larger and lusher golf course. Bo
th the park and the golf course were devoid of people this Tuesday morning.

  The dachshund stopped midway through the park. He waited for Kat to catch up before releasing a whimper.

  Kat’s heart clenched. “Are you lost?”

  The dog wagged his tail.

  Matty ambled over, and Kat scooped her up. She wasn’t going to give her any more chances to run off again.

  Matty didn’t protest, letting Kat cradle her in one arm. Assuming she remained this docile, perhaps Kat could carry the dachshund in her other arm. She hated to leave him out here by himself when he sounded so distressed.

  She was just reaching for the dog when something at the base of a nearby tree diverted her attention. It looked like a pile of clothes with a couple shoes beside it.

  Alarms went off in Kat’s brain. What were the odds that someone would choose to lie in the grass without a blanket to shield their clothes from the dirt?

  She forced her feet forward, her worst fears coming true. A man lay prone on the ground, unmoving. His eyes stared blankly up at the sky. Kat could clearly see what looked to be a dog leash cinched around his pale neck, his hands preserved in his final act of trying to pull it away from his throat.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “His name was Jeffrey Parr,” Andrew Milhone said.

  Kat watched as the breeze tousled Andrew’s sandy blond hair. It was hard for her to believe she had been out on a date with the handsome police detective less than twenty-four hours earlier, given the more dire circumstances that had prompted her to phone him ten minutes ago.

  “Did you know him?” Kat asked.

  Andrew lifted one shoulder. “Jeff and I didn’t socialize, but I knew him from around town. He was a preteen when his parents moved to Cherry Hills, about five years after you left.”

  Kat looked at the tree where she had found Jeff’s body. Although she couldn’t see him with the response team crowded around, a shiver still shimmied down her spine.

  Andrew pushed a hank of hair off of his forehead. “He was a dog walker. I doubt the doxie was his.”

  “I’ll take him into custody on behalf of 4F.” She had yet to deal with a found pet since volunteering to serve as treasurer of the Furry Friends Foster Families nonprofit organization, but she figured the other board members would know what to do.

  Andrew pulled a notepad out of his breast pocket and flipped it open. “I’m going to have to get your statement.”

  “Do you mind if I take Matty home first?” The cat was sunning herself several feet away. She had her hind feet stretched out with her chin resting on top. Her green eyes were trained in Kat’s direction, but she looked more concerned about her outdoor venture ending than she did about her human’s harrowing discovery.

  Andrew darted a glance at Matty before fishing his pen out. “This will only take a moment.”

  Kat didn’t argue. After all, a man had just been murdered. It was her civic responsibility to do what she could to see the killer brought to justice.

  “Did you see anybody else outside before you found Jeff?” Andrew asked.

  Kat shook her head.

  “What about other dogs? Did you see any other animals?”

  “Other dogs?” Kat hadn’t considered that Jeff might have been walking more than one dog at the time of his death.

  Andrew used his pen to gesture around them. “You do realize this is an off-leash dog park, don’t you?”

  Kat surveyed the area, empty except for the personnel huddled around Jeff. She spotted a sign instructing owners not to let their dogs out of sight. Farther away, she saw a garbage can with a contraption above that dispensed bags to pick up waste. How had she not noticed that before?

  She made a mental note to do more exploring around the neighborhood. She had only moved back to Cherry Hills a few months ago, but she found it disconcerting that she hadn’t known about this park. After all, it was only a few blocks from her apartment.

  “If you saw other dogs, I thought you might be able to lead me to their owners in case they saw something,” Andrew continued.

  “I didn’t see any other dogs,” Kat told him. “Just the dachshund.”

  “Did you hear anything unusual?”

  “No.”

  “What were you doing before you came outside?”

  She snorted. “Chasing Matty through my building.”

  Andrew looked at her, a slight smile pulling on his lips. “Anybody see you?”

  “Lucy. She was stepping off the elevator. And William Peterson. He was in the lobby when Matty jumped out of the window.”

  Andrew jotted something on his pad. “I’ll want to talk to them.”

  Her pulse quickened. “You think they might have seen what happened to Jeff?”

  “Possibly. They can at least back up your alibi.”

  “My . . .” Kat jammed her hands on her hips, a flash of anger zipping through her. “Are you saying I’m a suspect?”

  “Of course not.”

  She blew out a breath. “Well, that’s good news.”

  “But since you were the one who found him, I do have to back up your story.”

  “Andrew!” A spark of indignation flickered in Kat’s chest. “You know I didn’t kill Jeff. I didn’t even know him.”

  “I’m just following protocol.”

  She crossed her arms. “In that case, maybe I shouldn’t talk to you until I find a lawyer.”

  “That’s your right.”

  She glared at him. She would have continued to stare him down until he offered her an apology, but they were interrupted when one of the officials called him over.

  Andrew took a step away. “I’ve gotta go see what they want. Can I question you more later?”

  “I don’t figure I have a choice,” Kat grumbled.

  He winked at her. “I’ll bring you dinner tonight as consolation.”

  She was about to throw back a sarcastic rejoinder, but Andrew dashed off before she had a chance to reply.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Imogene Little was already waiting when Kat arrived at Cherry Hills Veterinary with the dachshund cradled in her arms. She said something to the African American woman she was talking to before crossing the lobby.

  “Kat, I’m so glad you called. I brought that leash you asked for.” Imogene snapped the hook to the dog’s harness ring and handed the leash to Kat.

  “Thanks for making it over here so quickly,” Kat said.

  “Oh, anything for an animal in need.”

  Kat lifted up the dog. “Do you recognize him?”

  Imogene squinted at the dachshund. “I’m tempted to say he’s Dorothy Fairchild’s. He certainly looks like her doxie.”

  “Do you know where she lives?”

  “I do. But since we’re here we might as well see if he’s in the system.” She sidled up to the receptionist. “Sherry, we have a found dog we need to check for a microchip.”

  The redhead looked up from her computer. “Sure. I’ll let Dr. Harry know.”

  “Thank you.” Imogene cupped the dog’s head in her hands, worry lines crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Don’t you fret, little thing. We’re going to find out where you live and get you back home.”

  Kat checked the clock on the wall, anxious to get home herself. She hadn’t gotten to spend any time with Matty since locking her back in the apartment. She hoped the cat wasn’t too scarred by what they’d found.

  Imogene looked at Kat. “He’s trembling.”

  “I know.” Kat held the dachshund a little tighter. “I don’t think he’s injured though, just shaken.” Given what he had witnessed earlier, Kat couldn’t blame him.

  The dachshund barked and started wriggling in Kat’s arms. She set him on the floor, and he trotted as close to the exit as the leash would allow.

  Imogene clucked her tongue. “Oh, look at him. He probably thinks he’s here for his shots. How did you find this little fellow, anyway? You didn’t tell me when you called.”

  The scene s
he’d left at the dog park flashed through Kat’s head. There was a reason she hadn’t gone into details over the phone.

  She ignored the tightness in her throat and turned toward Imogene. “He was near my apartment building. Matty got out, and they ran to a dog park where . . .” She broke off, a chill crawling over her.

  “Where . . . ?” Imogene prompted.

  Kat wrapped her arms around herself. “Imogene, someone murdered the man walking him. I found his body in the park.”

  Imogene gasped, one hand drifting toward her chest. Sherry’s head snapped up from the computer, and the woman waiting on the other side of the lobby glanced over at them. The news even seemed to surprise the woman’s Irish setter. His jaw dropped open, and his tongue fell out.

  Kat swallowed. “His name was Jeff Parr. I—”

  Sherry sucked in a breath. “Jeff Parr?”

  “Did you know him?” Kat asked.

  “Yes.”

  The word came out clipped, and from the hardness in Sherry’s eyes and the thinness of her lips, Kat gathered she hadn’t cared for Jeff.

  “I knew Jeff too,” Imogene said. “The Parrs have lived in Cherry Hills for almost a decade.” She fingered a piece of auburn hair that had slipped from her ponytail. “Oh, my! They’re going to be so terribly heartbroken.”

  The black woman stood up to join them, her Irish setter trotting beside her. “You say this Jeff person was killed in a dog park?” she asked Kat.

  Kat nodded. “The one a few miles from here, near that golf course.”

  The woman’s brown eyes widened, her hand landing on the Irish setter’s head. “I just started taking Bubbles there.”

  The Irish setter barked his confirmation, then turned to sniff the dachshund.

  “That park is only a couple blocks from my new apartment,” the woman went on. She frowned. “Do you think it was a random attack?”

  Imogene reached out and squeezed her arm. “Oh, Janice, I certainly hope not!”

  “His killer probably knew him,” Kat agreed. She thought about the leash wrapped around Jeff’s neck, something about the whole scene striking her as personal.