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  Shot in Cherry Hills

  A Cozy Cat Caper Mystery

  Book 5

  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

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  STRANGLED IN CHERRY HILLS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  “What exactly happens during a wellness check?” Katherine Harper asked, looking across the console at Imogene Little.

  Imogene kept her gaze trained out the windshield, her hands in perfect ten-and-two position on the steering wheel. “We make sure the foster animal is faring well in his temporary environment, and the foster parents have everything they need.”

  Kat leaned back in the passenger seat, savoring the crisp fall breeze as it hit her face through the open window. “Sounds simple enough.”

  “Oh, it is. It’s mainly a way to let everybody know we’re here if they need anything.”

  Kat smiled as she watched the wind whip Imogene’s auburn hair around her face. Since volunteering to serve as treasurer of the Furry Friends Foster Families nonprofit organization in July, her admiration for Imogene had only grown. She had always liked the 4F president, but in the past three months she’d really gotten to witness firsthand how much she cared about animals and was willing to work on their behalf. It made her proud to be a part of 4F.

  Kat’s gaze drifted out the windshield, landing on the large dog standing next to a woman in front of one of the two-story houses lining this street. She sat up a little straighter. “There’s Champ.”

  “That sure is.” Imogene turned into the driveway. “He looks well. Noreen must be taking good care of him.”

  Kat presumed the woman was Noreen. She was a petite blonde who looked to be around Imogene’s age, somewhere in her fifties. Her trim figure and healthy tan suggested she spent a lot of time outdoors.

  She held a retractable leash in one hand, letting out some of the pull as Champ snuffled the ground. But the grass lost its appeal when Champ saw Imogene’s car. He looked up, his tail wagging fast enough to make Kat dizzy.

  Kat climbed out of the passenger seat. With the car engine off, she could hear birds chirping up in the trees. She grinned, imagining them taking shelter on the uppermost branches as they warned their companions of the big dog down on the ground.

  Champ’s ears pricked, and he trotted over to Kat. She rubbed his head, her heart soaring at how happy he looked. He’d had a traumatic time a couple months ago, and she was glad to see the experience hadn’t broken him.

  Champ nudged her hip with his head. She took a step back, laughing as she pushed him away.

  “Hello to you too,” she said. “You’ll notice I remembered to wear jeans instead of a dress around you.”

  The blonde walked over. “He likes you.”

  Kat grinned. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “I’m Noreen Wilkenson.” She stuck her leash-free hand out.

  “Kat Harper.”

  As if he wanted to take part in the formal introduction, Champ barked before pressing his nose against their joined palms.

  Noreen broke off the handshake to scratch Champ between the ears. “This one is going to make somebody very happy. I tried to convince Stacey Whitfield from two doors down to adopt him, but she says she has her hands full just with Vern.”

  “What kind of dog is Vern?” Kat asked.

  “The worst.” Noreen snorted. “He’s her husband. He likes to start on home improvement projects, but he doesn’t like to finish them. Stacey is trying to cure him of that.”

  On cue, the sound of what Kat guessed to be an electric saw cut through the air. Champ turned toward it and barked.

  “And, that would be Vern,” Noreen said with a grimace. “I swear he’s getting worse. He used to only work on his projects on Saturdays, but now that it’s cooling down there’s no predicting when he’ll be out in the garage.”

  Imogene tilted her face to the sky, the sunlight catching her hair at an angle that made it look as if it were on fire. “The weather’s been so nice, I don’t blame him.”

  “There’s no better place to be in October than Cherry Hills, Washington,” Noreen agreed, running her hand down Champ’s back.

  Champ gazed up at her with adoring eyes before giving her hand a lick.

  Noreen bent over and planted a kiss on top of the dog’s head. “Oh, baby, I love you too.”

  Kat’s heart melted. If it weren’t for her two cats and small apartment, she would be tempted to adopt Champ herself.

  Noreen looked at Kat. “Would you like to hold the reins while you’re here?”

  “Sure.” Kat took the leash from her.

  The power saw shut off. Before Kat could adjust to the quiet, a bang loud enough for her to feel it in her teeth echoed through the air. She jumped, losing her hold on the leash and having to retrieve it from the grass with shaky fingers.

  A couple of nearby birds squawked before flying off. Kat could hear the blood rushing through her ears in the silence they left behind.

  She set one hand on Champ, feeling the tenseness of his muscles beneath her palm. His tail was no longer moving. Now he stood stock-still, his ears rotated at attention. His reaction made the hairs on the back of Kat’s neck stand up.

  “What was that?” Imogene asked, her voice wavering.

  Noreen’s eyes were wide. The tan Kat had admired only a moment earlier had disappeared, replaced now by a complexion that bordered on ashen.

  “I’m not sure,” Noreen said slowly, “but it sounded like a gunshot.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Noreen hurried toward the house. “I’m going to call the police.”

  Imogene rushed after her. “Good idea. We’ll wait inside until they get here.”

  Kat had every intention of following them, but she only managed to take two steps before the leash jerked her back. She looked over her shoulder. Champ stood as still as a statue, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.

  She gave the leash a tug. “Come on, boy.”

  A whoosh of relief surged through her when Champ trotted forward. But instead of heading for Noreen’s front door, he lunged toward the side of the house and let out a bark that shattered the preternatural silence.

  Kat yelped as the leash extended to its full length, nearly yanking her arm out of its socket. She scrambled to maintain her footing as her sneakers slid on the grass.

  “Champ! Slow down.”

  Kat’s breath hitched as the dog dragged her behind him. What had been a cool morning breeze when she was standing still now whipped across her face, blinding her to their path. She prayed Champ didn’t send her crashing headlong into a fence, tree, or other obstruction
.

  She pulled on the leash as best as she could while running full speed ahead. “Champ, stop.” She gasped for air then wheezed out, “Heel. Halt. Sit,” figuring it wouldn’t hurt to run through all the commands he might know.

  To her surprise, he actually obeyed, although he slowed to a walk rather than stopping altogether. Still, Kat almost wept with relief.

  Which was when she saw a streak of black and white running toward the woods lining the back of the properties along this street.

  Her heart jumped. She couldn’t tell what the animal was, but she could see it was small. And it had Champ’s complete attention. He looked ready to sprint after it again as soon as Kat gave him the go-ahead.

  She wrapped her fingers a little more tightly around the leash handle. “Please don’t tell me you want to get involved in a wrestling match with a skunk.”

  Champ didn’t even look at her. His nose quivered, and he kept his ears pointed forward. It was as if the other animal were the only thing he was aware of.

  It stopped running when it reached the edge of the woods. That was when Kat saw it wasn’t a skunk at all but a cat.

  The cat sat down next to one of the trees, his yellow eyes trained on them. His coat was pure black except for a few white patches. He looked as if he’d stepped into a can of white paint before smearing some around his mouth, down the front of his chest, and on the tip of his tail.

  Champ barked. He extended his front legs until his elbows touched the ground, then used his hind feet to slide himself closer, his tail wagging the whole time. When he came within three feet of the cat, the feline stood up, arched his back, and hissed.

  Kat pulled on the leash. “Stop, heel, halt, sit, Champ. I think you’re scaring him.”

  The cat’s gaze snapped to her, his wide eyes suggesting he was startled she might be on his side.

  Champ’s tail continued to swish back and forth like a metronome. He turned his head and peered up at Kat with pleading eyes.

  “Not a chance,” she told him.

  He whimpered, then flattened his legs in the grass and set his chin on his paws.

  The cat seemed to sense he’d won this battle. He sat down, eyeing Champ with a triumphant tilt to his head.

  Kat couldn’t share in his joy. Remembering how they’d all ended up here in the first place, her chest tightened. Had the bang she’d heard been what had frightened the cat into running? And if that bang had been a gunshot, did that mean they were all now exposed to a shooter?

  A shiver ran down her spine. She swiveled around, half expecting to spot a black-clad figure hiding behind one of the shrubs. But nothing looked amiss. She heard what sounded like a branch cracking from somewhere in the woods, but when she spun around she didn’t see anything. Even so, she would feel much better once she was back inside.

  But she couldn’t leave the cat out here by himself with a potential shooter on the loose, could she?

  As if to make sure she didn’t abandon him, the cat crept closer. He kept one eye on Champ, who didn’t get up but started to whimper with more urgency. Still, the cat approached.

  When he reached Kat, he rubbed his face against her shoe. Then he wove between her legs, moving in the pattern of a figure eight.

  “All right, that settles it,” Kat said. “You’re coming with us.”

  The cat looked up at her, his nose twitching as if he wouldn’t have expected anything else.

  Careful not to drop Champ’s leash, Kat crouched down far enough to hook her fingers under the cat’s chest and hind feet. From the silky feel of his fur and the meat on his bones, she gathered he belonged to someone. He felt too healthy to be a stray or feral.

  “Everything’s going to be all right,” she murmured, unsure whether she meant the words more for him or her.

  She lifted him halfway off the ground to test his reaction to her grip. He didn’t protest, so she cuddled him close to her chest.

  Before Kat could register what was happening, the feline dug his claws into her shirtsleeve and pulled himself up her left arm. His claws nicked her as he scrabbled his way onto her shoulder, but Kat was too stunned to react. By the time she regained her ability to move, he’d already wrapped himself around her neck, his tail brushing against her lips.

  Kat blew his tail away. “Don’t tell me you plan on staying there.”

  Champ had evidently reached the limits of his patience and could no longer stand being on the sidelines. He jumped up and set his front paws on Kat’s stomach, almost toppling her over. He barked. The cat hissed.

  Kat pushed Champ away, then reached up to reassure the feline. “On second thought, maybe you should stay up there.”

  “What are you doing with Tuxedo?”

  Kat started, almost dumping the cat off of her shoulders. But he dug his claws in before that could happen. She winced, making a mental note not to engage in any sudden movements as long as she was serving as a human perch for felines.

  “What are you doing with Tux?” the voice asked again.

  Kat turned her attention to the forty-something woman standing in front of her. She had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. From the messy blond ponytail, dirty overalls, and gloves, Kat figured she’d been gardening.

  The woman started to take a step closer, but stopped when Champ dashed over to snuffle at a splotch on her overalls.

  She moved out of Champ’s reach, keeping her attention on Kat. “What are you doing with Eric’s cat? He never comes outside.”

  “Eric?” Kat asked.

  “Eric Halstead.” The woman gestured toward the house whose backyard they were in. “This is his place.”

  Kat glanced at the house then at the white-tipped tail flicking in her face. The implications of the woman’s insight sent a tingle from the tips of her ears down to her toes. If the cat—Tuxedo, according to this woman—was an inside cat, what was he doing outside seconds after that gunshot was fired?

  The woman must have asked herself the same thing. Her mouth dipped down, worry lines furrowing her brow. Without another word, she pivoted on her heel and started toward the house.

  Before Kat could decide whether to follow her or head to Noreen’s as planned, Champ took off like a racehorse, forcing Kat to stumble after him. Tux howled in protest and wrapped his legs more tightly around Kat’s shoulders.

  Their commotion caused the woman to turn around. She frowned when she spotted the clumsy trio barreling toward her.

  Champ froze. His fur lifted from his skin, and a low growl emanated from somewhere deep in his chest.

  The sound put Kat instantly on alert. She turned to see what had caught the dog’s attention, her breath catching when she saw the back door leading into the house was flung wide open.

  Tux meowed, a pitiful sound that gave Kat goosebumps. She reached up to pet him, wondering if he knew what they would find inside.

  The woman had her own eyes on the door. “Should we go in together?”

  Kat didn’t miss the way the woman’s voice quaked. Apparently she was just as uneasy about this situation as Kat herself.

  Without waiting for Kat’s response, the woman took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. Kat followed.

  “Eric?” the woman called out.

  Nobody answered.

  They crept farther inside. The stench of something unpleasant flooded Kat’s nostrils, and every instinct screamed for her to turn back.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when Champ whimpered beside her.

  She followed the direction of his gaze, her stomach dropping to the floor when she spotted the gun on the carpet. Then her eyes moved a few feet away, landing on something that sucked all the air from her lungs.

  A man, lifeless, lay sprawled on the floor in a pool of red.

  Kat gasped. Her knees gave out, and she dropped to the floor. In the back of her mind she could feel Tux struggling to maintain his foothold on her shoulder, but her shock dulled the pain of his claws sinking into her skin.

>   She barely even noticed when the woman beside her screamed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You entered a house where a suspected shooting occurred?” Andrew Milhone asked, his tone sharp.

  Kat fidgeted, her eyes drifting across the yard to Eric Halstead’s back door. From this angle she couldn’t see inside the house, but she had a clear view of the officials clustered near the doorway.

  She recognized two of the officers. They had been the first to arrive, showing up seconds after the gardener had run out the back door. Her screaming had set off Champ’s barking, and the commotion had led the responding officers to where Kat was still kneeling in shock. They had practically carried her into the backyard, one offering assurances that he would secure Champ and Tux at Noreen’s, and the other telling her to stay put until after she was interviewed.

  An interview that, as it so happened, was being conducted by Andrew Milhone, Kat’s boyfriend and the Cherry Hills Police Department detective assigned to the case.

  “I didn’t really plan to go inside,” she told Andrew now, shifting her weight to her other foot. “Champ sort of dragged me through the back door.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Andrew didn’t have to know that.

  Andrew pursed his lips. “You couldn’t have dropped the leash?”

  Kat gave a little shrug as she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. Despite the hard expression on his face, her stomach still fluttered when she locked eyes with him. But she knew he was all business so she was careful not to let his effect on her show.

  Andrew ran one hand through his sandy hair, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. “You know you could have put yourself in danger.”

  “I couldn’t let that other woman go in there alone.”

  “About that, Stacey questioned how you came to be in possession of the victim’s cat.”

  Kat tilted her head. “Stacey?”

  “Stacey Whitfield,” Andrew said, “the woman you accompanied into the Halstead residence.”