A Dreadful Meow-ment (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 2)

I’m sure you’re well aware.” She gives me a cocked stare. “Bowie Binx.” She shakes her head at me as if she were doubtful about my identity, and every muscle in my body seizes.
I may have known girls like Regina back in Jersey, but even then I knew better than to mess with them.
“Where did you say you came from?” She angles her ear my way as if the better to slaughter me with my own words later.
“I, uh…” I glance to the door for help, or to run. Either way, I need to get out from under the bus that is Regina Valentine.
Tilly rolls her eyes. “Chicago, Connecticut. Now shoo.” She swats Regina with the dishtowel in her hand until Regina steps away and eventually ends up all the way to the door.
“Chicago, Connecticut.” Regina’s lips pull into a straight line, the threat of a woman possessed to do a faux relationship takedown. “I’ll see you later, Bowie Binx. I don’t go down without a fight.” She shrugs. “Some people just have to learn the hard way.”
“She’s going to fight me?” I gulp as Tilly and I watch the queen of mean exit the café.
“Sounds like it.” Tilly shrugs. “Too bad for her—you already won. You’re engaged to Sexy Wexy. I say we head out to celebrate with a certain silver-haired suspect.”
“I’m not so sure I won,” I say as I head over to the window to make sure Regina isn’t assaulting Shep outside for information on me. Besides, chasing down a killer again is the last thing I need to be doing. God knows I need to be staying away from the criminal spotlight—not trying to shine it over me like a floodlight.
But I don’t see Regina at all. Instead, I see Shep talking to that caramel-haired hussy from last night, Hilary Campbell. How dare she come sniffing around my phony fiancé. I’m about to head on out and put on the show of a lifetime when Shep pats her over the back and the two of them take off down the street.
How do you like that?
Shepherd Wexler has the nerve to cheat on me in broad daylight with his old high school sleaze-heart.
“On second thought,” I turn to Tilly, “I would love to go out on the town with you tonight, Tilly.”
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, off to hunt a silver fox we go.

Chapter 5
It turns out, Tilly is a natural at tracking down men—especially when they’re single and deemed somewhat handsome by her newly minted bestie.
Once Oliver Kincaid finished up at his current construction location, which just so happens to be at Kadie Beaumont’s home, or Kadie Ryan, whichever surname she’s using these days, he took off for a drink at a place called the Dirty Habit located in downtown Scooter Springs.
Tilly gleaned all that with less than two minutes alone with one of Oliver’s foremen. I’m not sure how she wrangled it from him, seeing that she took him behind a trailer to shake him down, but let’s just say she came away with her blouse buttoned wonky and the foremen went away with a grin on his face.
Scooter Springs sits just below Starry Falls geographically. It’s dark, seedy, teeming with rebel-rousers commandeering the streets, not to mention the clusters of rowdy women howling at the sky while brandishing beer bottles. I would have fit in nicely with these people back home.
Tilly drives us straight to the Dirty Habit. We park out back and carefully make our way past a group of greasy-looking men, all who take the time out of their grunting conversation to belt a few catcalls at us.
Tilly winks and shimmies her chest their way in return while I yank her into the establishment before us, which holds the scent of beer and urinal cakes.
The sound of rock music blares from the speakers, and once in a while there’s a crackling noise that alerts us to the fact the owners of this place don’t think too highly of investing in a decent sound system. I guess they figure with all the liquor they’re pouring into the patrons, the sound quality doesn’t really matter. I’m betting they’re right.
“Wow,” I muse as I take a look around at the dimly lit wonder.
Peanut shells are scattered around the floor, the walls are dark, there’s a glass bar that runs the length of the place with what looks to be a million bottle caps displayed underneath it, a couple of dartboards are set in the back, and there are two pool tables currently occupied. It’s a split ratio of men to women.
The men all look as if they stepped off of a construction site and the women all look as if they stepped right out of the red light district. And, dear Lord, I think these really are bona fide ladies of the night. In fact, I’d bet my second life on it. My call-girl radar has always been on point.
“Tilly.” I pull her to the side as we continue to inspect the inhabitants, and strangely enough, the inhabitants seem to be inspecting us right back. “I think this is a working bar.” I tick my head to the side over and over again trying to get my racy point across.
“Of course, it’s working.” She nods with wild eyes. “Why else would it be open?” She cranes her neck to get a better look at the crowd. “He’s got to be here somewhere. I can’t wait to lay my eyes on the next Mr. Tilly Teasdale.”
I give a long blink before looking toward the bar and, sure enough, I spot a head, full of silver hair, tipped back while he pours a beer down his throat.
“There he is,” I say. “Remember to play it cool. Let me do the talking.”
“I didn’t come all the way out here to sit and look pretty.” Her cheek flinches as she gives me a look of dismay. “You gotta give me a fightin’ chance with the guy.”
“Tilly, someone put a bullet