Framed in Cherry Hills (Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 2) (8 page)

Katherine Harper knew something was wrong when she opened her front door late Tuesday morning and saw Matilda sitting outside her apartment.

Kat scrunched up her nose as she looked down at the cat. “Matty, what are you doing here? You live next door.”

Matilda stared back at her, her tail sweeping across the welcome mat.

Kat had to admit that Matty was a very striking cat. With her yellow and brown markings, white chin, and oversized green eyes, Kat thought the tortoiseshell was adorable.

But, contrary to what Matty liked to believe, she was a house cat.

Sighing, Kat brushed a brunette lock of hair away from her face before she scooped up the animal and started down the hallway to her neighbor’s unit. “You know Mrs. Tinsdale doesn’t like you out here. She fears somebody will steal you. And the landlord had a fit the last time he saw you in the common hallway. Now you’re going to be in big trouble.”

Kat shook her head, wondering why she was trying to reason with a feline. If anyone was watching, they’d assume she was desperate for companionship.

I need a boyfriend
, Kat thought. Unfortunately, securing a boyfriend was a touch more difficult than stopping by the local grocery store and adding one to her shopping cart.

Kat made it to Mrs. Tinsdale’s front door and adjusted Matilda in her arms to free one of her hands. But as she reached out to ring the doorbell, she noticed the door was already slightly ajar.

Kat froze, her pulse starting to pound. Mrs. Tinsdale never left her door open. Although Cherry Hills, Washington didn’t experience as much crime as Wenatchee, the nearest big city, leaving your front door open was still inviting trouble, even in a secured-entry building such as theirs. At the very least, nobody wanted to spend their hard-earned money running air conditioning for an entire twelve-unit apartment building in the middle of a July heat wave.

Kat looked at Matty, tempted to ask if she knew what was going on. Fortunately, she realized the ridiculousness of such a question before she voiced it aloud.

Her eyes locked back on to Mrs. Tinsdale’s door as she set the cat on the floor. Something wasn’t right about this situation, and every one of Kat’s instincts was urging her to turn around and flee. But, given that Mrs. Tinsdale could be injured and waiting for help to arrive, Kat felt she had an obligation to investigate.

Kat poked her head around the doorframe. “Mrs. Tinsdale?”

Nobody responded. For that matter, Kat didn’t hear anything at all except the hum of the air conditioner. She didn’t know if the AC would drown out the sound of a burglar climbing through a back window and down the fire escape, but, if a burglar was in the apartment, she would prefer that he duck out now. Kat didn’t care to run into anyone in the middle of committing a crime.

Stealing another peek at Matty—who watched her with that disdainful look that cats had mastered over the years—Kat pushed the door open wider.

“Mrs. Tinsdale?” Kat called out again.

She stepped over the threshold when only silence returned. Looking around, nothing struck Kat as out of place in the living room. Neither did she see Mrs. Tinsdale anywhere.

Kat moved farther into the apartment, scanning the dining area and kitchen as she circled around the coffee table. Everything looked normal in those rooms too.

Taking a deep breath, she rotated toward the hallway.

A shadow flashed on the wall, causing Kat’s stomach to leap into her throat. She whipped around, noting that Matty had followed her into the apartment unit. Her shoulders dropped three inches.

“You scared me,” she scolded. Then, remembering how silly Mrs. Tinsdale always sounded when she talked to the cat, Kat spun around and refocused on her mission.

Kat moved down the short hallway and glanced into the first room. The unoccupied bedroom appeared to be ready and waiting for Mrs. Tinsdale’s next guest. The duvet looked freshly laundered and put Kat’s own rumpled sheets and unmade bed to shame. The only off-putting touch was the patch of fur smeared across the decorative pillows piled near the top of the mattress. Matty clearly thought the guest bed looked as inviting as Kat did.

The door on the other side of the hallway led to a small bathroom. Peering inside, Kat didn’t see anything amiss there either.

She turned her attention to the closed door of what had to be the master bedroom. Assuming Mrs. Tinsdale was inside her apartment, that was the only place left where she could be.

Kat swallowed as she crept toward the end of the hallway. As much as she prayed that Mrs. Tinsdale had just popped out to do a little grocery shopping, she knew her neighbor would never have left Matty free to wander the building while she was away. Kat knew something was seriously wrong, no matter how badly she wanted to find a safe explanation for the open front door.

Kat paused when she made it to her destination. She gripped the doorknob, glancing back at Matty as if seeking the cat’s permission to enter. Matty’s eyes were huge as she stared back at her from the other end of the hall.

Kat positioned her ear closer to the door. “Mrs. Tinsdale?” she called again—fruitlessly, as she already knew there would be no response.

Left with no other options, Kat turned the doorknob. The hinges creaked as she slowly pushed the door open. She dreaded what she would find, but it wasn’t until she saw the disarray in the bedroom that she realized she was holding her breath.

The rumpled bedspread dangled halfway off the mattress. She didn’t know for sure if the mussed-up comforter had resulted from a scuffle or if Mrs. Tinsdale had simply not finished making the bed after waking up this morning, but she suspected the former. Mrs. Tinsdale struck her as the type to keep her living quarters neat and organized. Making the bed was likely one of the first things she did after waking up in the morning.

Kat’s eyes veered toward the floor, where a lamp was smashed next to the nightstand. The disorder—and what it implied—made her woozy. She leaned against the doorframe for support, envying Matty and her position in the hallway. If Kat had her own way, she would plant herself outside as well, then wait for someone else to deal with this.

But she knew she couldn’t turn around and walk away. Even if she and Mrs. Tinsdale hadn’t known each other well, she couldn’t leave a woman in potential peril simply to make things easier on herself.

Kat opened the door the rest of the way, searching the room for Mrs. Tinsdale herself. That was when she spotted the foot sticking out of the connected bathroom. The foot lay motionless on the floor, the ankle twisted at an unnatural angle.

Kat’s heart was thumping so hard now she feared she might collapse without the support of the doorframe to keep her upright. She would need all her strength to make it from this side of the bedroom to the bathroom.

Her legs shaking, Kat clutched the side of the bureau, but she pulled her hands back as soon as they made contact. Too late, she figured it would be better not to touch anything. If it turned out that Mrs. Tinsdale’s bedroom was a crime scene, Kat didn’t want to leave any more evidence of her presence here than she already had.

Mustering up what remained of her internal strength, Kat somehow made it to the bathroom without leaning on anything. She had to smother a scream when she caught sight of Mrs. Tinsdale’s face staring vacantly at the ceiling. Kat didn’t need to check for a pulse or other vital signs. Anyone could see the woman was dead.

Dashing out of the bedroom with her stomach threatening to reject the breakfast she had savored only thirty minutes ago, Kat scooped up Matty on her way out of the apartment and rushed back to her own unit to call the police.

*  *  *

The complete book is now available on
Amazon
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Paige Sleuth 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]
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