Thanksgiving in Cherry Hills Read online

  “Jessie dropped it off this morning,” Imogene went on. “She said you left it in the cooler and forgot to take it home after your shift. Since yesterday was your last day and you’d already returned your keys, she was worried you wouldn’t be able to get to it before she had to head over to her mother’s in Spokane.”

  A lump lodged itself in Kat’s throat. She couldn’t believe Jessie Polanski had come through for her like this. Although they enjoyed each other’s company, their relationship had always been limited to work encounters. But this gesture went beyond what would be expected from a boss helping out an employee. This gesture was something that Kat would have expected from a very good friend.

  Imogene scanned the room. She had left her auburn hair down today, and it practically glowed in the room’s light. Kat had never seen her look so radiant.

  “Do you know everybody here?” Imogene asked.

  Kat shook her head, too emotional to speak. She was beginning to think that perhaps she didn’t really know anyone at all.

  Imogene started reaching for Kat’s hand but stopped when she saw they were both full. “What’s this?” she said.

  “Oh.” Kat adjusted her hold on the pie pan. “It’s, um . . .”

  Imogene grinned. “Don’t tell me you made two pies.”

  “I made that one,” Andrew piped up.

  Imogene drew back a little. “Oh. Well, it’s . . . lovely.”

  Kat had to stifle a laugh.

  Imogene eased the pie out of Kat’s grasp. “Why don’t we just slip this one in the fridge, in case we run out of everything else.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Kat replied. “And I’m sure Andrew won’t mind taking the leftovers home.”

  Andrew pinched the back of Kat’s arm as Imogene ducked into the kitchen. “No way are you passing that pie off on me. The only thing I did was stir.”

  “Considering the tools you had to work with, you did a great job.”

  Imogene returned, her hands clasped in front of her. “Now, where were we?”

  “Talking about the impressive turnout,” Kat said. “Where’s Clover?”

  “Oh, I imagine he’s hiding out somewhere. He doesn’t mind strangers, but this crowd is a bit too much for him.”

  “Poor cat.”

  Imogene chuckled. “Trust me, all will be forgiven when I open up that can of turkey cat food later.”

  “Turkey?” Chief Kenny said, sidling up to them. “You mean you finally came to your senses after all that hooting and hollering about throwing a vegetarian supper?”

  “Kat and I were discussing what Clover will be having for dinner,” Imogene told the burly police chief. “Not you.”

  Chief Kenny folded his two beefy arms across his chest. “Why does Clover get special treatment?”

  “He’s a cat.”

  As if he could feel his ears burning, Clover ambled into the room. The big, white cat sat down next to Chief Kenny, his chin tilted up as though to rub it in that he was going to be served turkey and the police chief wasn’t.

  Chief Kenny scowled. “Who ever heard of a Thanksgiving meal without meat?”

  Imogene swatted his shoulder. “You haven’t even tried anything yet.”

  “I don’t need to try it to know it ain’t right. Replacing a perfectly tasty bird with a lump of soy disrupts the natural order of things.”

  Imogene lifted her nose up, looking eerily similar to Clover. Kat was reminded of the theory that pet owners invariably started to resemble their animals after a while, curious whether she had unconsciously adopted any of Matty’s and Tom’s quirks.

  “I’ll have you know that this dinner is going to be scrumptious,” Imogene said.

  Chief Kenny’s lip curled up. Somehow, no matter what Imogene did with her turkey substitute, Kat didn’t think he would be able to get over the fact that it was plant-based.

  He reached down and scooped Clover off of the floor. “This guy understands my plight,” he said, adjusting the cat so he was cradled in the crook of his arms like a baby. “Dontcha, boy?”

  Imogene blinked. “Clover hates being on his back.”

  “He doesn’t seem to mind now,” Andrew commented.

  “Kenny, you must have a magic touch or something,” Imogene told him. “He never lets me hold him like that.”

  “I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts it’s because he can smell the tofu on your breath,” Chief Kenny surmised, scratching the cat’s chin. “A real man knows meat is good for the soul, right Clover?”

  Clover lifted his head up and meowed.

  Imogene huffed. “Make fun, but I haven’t eaten an animal in fifteen years now and I’ve never felt better.”

  Chief Kenny didn’t appear to hear her, too busy rubbing Clover’s belly. “Next year we’re doing Thanksgiving at my place. Then four-legged critters won’t be the only ones who get to sink their teeth into a juicy chunk of roasted bird.”

  “You told me you don’t cook.”

  “I don’t. I’ll have it catered.” He pulled his hand away from Clover and snapped his fingers. “You know what I oughta serve next year?”

  “What?”

  “A turducken.”

  Imogene wrinkled her nose. “A what?”

  “Turducken. It’s a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey.”

  Clover’s blue eyes lit up.

  “Makes your mouth water just thinking about it, huh?” Chief Kenny said, although Kat couldn’t tell if he was talking to Imogene or Clover. “I’ve been mighty eager to try one myself.”

  Imogene threw her hands up. “Why don’t we serve steaks embedded inside pork chops too, while we’re at it?”

  Chief Kenny smacked his lips. “That would make a mighty fine side dish.”

  “I’m obviously wasting my breath trying to talk any sense into you. Why don’t we sit down and eat?”

  “Great idea,” Andrew said, heading toward the string of tables of all different sizes and heights that stretched from the dining room into the living room.

  “Hear that, everybody!” Chief Kenny bellowed as he set Clover back on the floor. “It’s time to chow down.”

  A cheer went up. Kat wondered if everyone gathered—Chief Kenny being the exception—was looking forward to this meal as much as she was. It was now going on almost seventeen hours since she’d last eaten, and she didn’t think she would turn down raw tofu if that was the only thing Imogene planned to serve.

  “Everybody, take a seat and join hands with your neighbors,” Imogene instructed, settling in at the head of the table.

  Clover clearly thought her directive applied to him as well. He jumped into her lap, looking like a king perched on his royal throne. Rather than shooing him away, Imogene gave him a brief pat on the head, then reached her arms out to Chief Kenny on her left and Kat on her right.

  “It’s time to say our blessings,” she announced.

  Kat smiled as she grasped Imogene’s and Andrew’s hands, her heart swelling with affection. Her pumpkin pie might not have turned out well, but, she reminded herself, that wasn’t really what was important. What was important was right here, surrounding her.

  “We are thankful to have abundant food on our table,” Imogene began, “our health, and the privilege of living in the most delightful town on earth. Best of all, we get to spend this day together, with people we love and respect, even if we don’t always agree with them.”

  Kat swore she saw Imogene squeeze Chief Kenny’s hand a little tighter when she said the last part. Or maybe it was her imagination.

  After all, on her side of the table she had just squeezed Andrew’s hand a little tighter.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Thank you for visiting Cherry Hills, home of Kat, Matty, and Tom! If you enjoyed their story, please consider leaving a book review on your favorite online retailer and/or review site. Also join my readers’ group so you’ll be one of the first to know when their next adventure is published.

  Please keep reading for a
n excerpt from Book Ten of the Cozy Cat Caper Mystery series, Frozen in Cherry Hills. Thank you!

  FROZEN IN CHERRY HILLS

  “It’s a nasty habit, but I can’t seem to stop,” Maura O’Malley said to Katherine Harper, taking another puff from her cigarette.

  Kat cinched her coat tighter, wishing she had thought to grab her mittens from her desk before heading outside. “I understand.”

  Maura blew out a breath, smoke swirling in front of her. Kat could see her own breath as well, but she blamed the cold for that. It was only the last day of November, not even winter yet, and it was already freezing. It didn’t help that it had snowed all Thanksgiving weekend, the results of which now sat in heaps alongside the sides of their office building. Kat felt as if she’d been dropped into the middle of Siberia.

  She needed a better coat, she decided. Either that or she would have to make sure she didn’t volunteer to accompany Maura on any more of her cigarette breaks until the first spring blossoms made an appearance in Cherry Hills, Washington.

  Kat eyed her new boss, who didn’t seem bothered by the cold. Maura’s cheeks were as rosy as they had been inside, although maybe that was the result of her wearing so much makeup. Kat suspected that with Maura’s lush brown hair, green eyes, olive complexion, and wide smile she would be pretty even without the makeup.

  Although, Kat couldn’t help but think, Maura would be ten times more attractive if she’d lose the cigarette in her hand.

  Maura toed a patch of snow. “This will sound crazy, but I feel like smoking is part of my identity. I mean, I started when I was twenty. That’s over half my lifetime ago. How do you shake something that’s been with you your entire adult life?”

  Kat shifted from foot to foot in a vain attempt to get her blood circulating. “I hear it’s a tough habit to break.”

  “It’s the worst.” Maura paused, then said, “Have you noticed not many people smoke in Cherry Hills? Why do you think that is? Before I moved here I knew a bunch of smokers. We used to . . .”

  Kat mentally willed Maura to stop talking and start working on getting her nicotine fix. As much as she liked her new boss, she was starting to lose feeling in her fingers and toes.

  She probably wouldn’t have agreed to join Maura outside today, except it was her first day at her new programming job and she didn’t want to start off with her boss thinking she wasn’t a team player. After all, it wasn’t as if she had any assignments to work on yet. She had spent most of the morning filling out new-hire paperwork, and Maura had only just finished giving her a tour of the DataRightly offices before claiming she needed a short break.

  “You don’t have to stand here with me,” Maura said, squinting at Kat. “You’re obviously cold.”

  ‘Cold’ was an understatement, but Kat didn’t want to admit as much. “I’m okay,” she said instead.

  Maura looked around, her brow furrowed. “I wonder where Sadie is today.”

  “Who’s Sadie?” Kat asked.

  “Sadie Cramer. She’s another hopeless nicotine addict, the only other one working in this building as far as I know. We made a pact to quit together once, but you know how that goes.”

  Kat smiled, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. “At least you’re trying.”

  “Not hard enough.” Maura’s face lit up. “Oh, look at that.”

  Maura jabbed her cigarette toward the side of the building. When Kat saw what had caught her attention, she jolted. The fluffy white face of a cat was barely visible above one of the snowbanks.

  “He looks as cold as you do,” Maura told Kat.

  “Have you seen him before?”

  Maura shook her head. “First time ever.”

  Kat wondered whether the cat belonged to someone or if he was a stray. His body was hidden behind the snowbank, making it difficult for her to tell what kind of physical condition he was in.

  But her lack of knowledge about his health didn’t prevent her from worrying about him. As cold as it was now, the temperature would drop even more after the sun went down. This was no weather for a cat to be outside in.

  “I should see if he’ll let me get close to him,” Kat said.

  “What will you do if you catch him?”

  “Call Imogene Little. She’ll either know how to find his family or she can take him into 4F custody.”

  “What’s 4F?”

  “Furry Friends Foster Families. It’s a nonprofit organization, and Imogene and I are both board members. Our mission is to help homeless animals find permanent homes and place them with foster families in the interim.”

  “Hey.” Maura set her free hand on Kat’s arm. “You’re the group who took in Leo’s cat after he died, aren’t you?”

  Kat nodded, feeling a pinch in her chest. She still remembered the shock she had felt upon hearing about Leo Price’s murder—a murder that had occurred in the very parking lot they were standing beside.

  “How’s he doing?” Maura said. “Leo’s cat, I mean.”

  “Right now Stumpy is being cared for by the Belleroses, one of our foster families.”

  Maura’s lips twitched. “His name is Stumpy?”

  “Yes, on account of him being a Manx and only having a little stump for a tail.”

  A pained look swept across Maura’s face. “I bet he misses Leo. I know I do. I’m still getting used to not seeing him around DataRightly anymore.”

  Maura’s words weighed down Kat’s heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t know him better.”

  “Oh, you would have gotten along great. It was hard not to like Leo.” Maura rolled her cigarette between her fingers. “I should look into adopting Stumpy, for Leo’s sake. I’ve been thinking about getting a pet for a while now anyway. It gets lonely living all by yourself.”

  Kat grinned, thinking of her own cats and how they made her laugh every day. “Well, I, for one, can attest that having a cat or two at home really makes the days brighter. And from what I’ve heard, Stumpy is a very friendly cat, once he gets to know you and comes out of his shell.”

  Maura smiled. “I knew I made a good choice hiring you. You have a heart as well as a brain. I could tell when I interviewed you.”

  “Oh.” Kat flushed, unsure how to respond to the praise.

  “Where do you think he came from?” Maura said, jerking her chin toward the white cat.

  Kat shifted her attention back to the feline hiding behind the snowbank. “I’d have to guess from one of the houses down there,” she said, pointing.

  “His owner probably let him out, and he wandered over this way.”

  “Or he snuck out, got lost, and doesn’t know how to get home.”

  “Go see if you can catch him,” Maura urged. “Maybe he’s wearing a collar that will tell you where he lives.”

  Kat started toward the white cat, moving slowly so as not to alarm him. He watched her, but otherwise didn’t seem bothered by her approach.

  “Hi there, kitty,” she crooned. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

  The cat stared at her as if he suspected she was only speaking to him because she’d lost her mind.

  “So I talk to cats,” she said. “What of it?”

  His whiskers twitched.

  “I have two of your kind at home, you know. Their names are Matty and Tom.”

  The white cat stretched his jaws into a yawn, clearly unimpressed.

  “Are you going to let me pick you up?” Kat asked him.

  He tilted his head as though seriously considering her offer. But when Kat bent down and extended her hand, he turned around and dashed off, disappearing behind the building.

  Kat stood up and sighed. “So much for that.”

  She glanced over at Maura, who was watching her with an amused quirk to her lips. Kat lifted her hands up in defeat.

  She was on her way back to rejoin her boss when something in the next snowbank caught her eye. She crept closer, spotting the edge of a purple glove. She reached down to pick it up, figuring she could
leave it in the lobby in case someone had dropped it. But before she could grab it she saw something that froze her whole body.

  This glove looked as though it were already covering someone’s hand.

  Goosebumps broke out over Kat’s skin. She forced herself to peek over the wall of snow, which was when she saw there was indeed a hand inside the glove—and the hand was attached to a woman who looked almost as pale as the snow surrounding her.

  * * *

  Click here to find the book at your favorite online retailer.

  Books in the Cozy Cat Caper Mystery series:

  Book 1: Murder in Cherry Hills

  Book 2: Framed in Cherry Hills

  Book 3: Poisoned in Cherry Hills

  Book 4: Vanished in Cherry Hills

  Book 5: Shot in Cherry Hills

  Book 6: Strangled in Cherry Hills

  Book 7: Halloween in Cherry Hills

  Book 8: Stabbed in Cherry Hills

  Book 9: Thanksgiving in Cherry Hills

  Book 10: Frozen in Cherry Hills

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Paige Sleuth is a pseudonym for mystery author Marla Bradeen. She plots murder during the day and fights for mattress space with her two rescue cats at night. When not attending to her cats’ demands, she writes. She loves to hear from readers, and welcomes emails at [email protected].