A Claw-some Affair (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 3)

you at the masquerade ball tonight?”
Jackson slaps him on the shoulder. “Are you kidding? I’m not letting my favorite author miss it. And don’t any of you worry. I’ve got a surplus of masks. No one will go without.” He leans in and adds a bit of extra drama to that last word.
Shep’s cheek rises on one side. He’s the strong, serious type who is more than a little rough around the edges. Along with being a best-selling author, he used to work as a homicide detective at the Woodley County Sheriff’s Department, and just last week he informed me that he was going part-time with the force, more of a consulting position than anything else.
Shep is the only one who knows about my real identity and that whole money laundering mess that landed me on a runaway train to Starry Falls to begin with.
And speaking of secrets, only Tilly and Opal know about my ability to peer into the future. As much as I feel bad for not spilling it all to the three of them, I still go by that old adage—what they don’t know won’t hurt them. And if anyone else finds out I’m not really Bowie Binx, it might just come back to bite me.
A whole new crop of customers walks into the café, and Thea and Flor are off to the races.
Regina steps in close to Jackson and glides her finger down his mint green tie.
“Save a dance for me, later, would you, Jackie?” She walks past Shep and gives him a light scratch over the chest. “You, too, big boy. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.” She turns my way and shoots me a look that could slice my head off.
Jackson steps in close, his eyes steadying over mine.
“I can hardly wait to see the two of you in costume.” He inches closer. “And perhaps without.”
Opal chortles, pulling her dashing son to the side while mentioning something about a caviar bar.
Shep tips his head back a notch.
“Tilly.” He nods her way. “Bowie. I take it you’re both excited about the evening about to unfold.”
Tilly pushes out a dry laugh. “You bet your baby blue peepers. That is, unless Bowie here has some kooky spooky vision of what’s to come. And if what’s to come is a bona fide murder, I’ll be sure to make a run for Jackson Mortimer’s strong, billionaire arms. Just because his daddy cut Opal off at the wallet doesn’t mean he’s suffered the same disastrous financial fate.”
“Good to know,” I say it curt as I threaten her with my crazy-eyed stare. How could she all but out me that way? She knows that I don’t want Shep in on my supernatural secret, and here she’s all but spelled it out for him.
Tilly squints before her eyes grow large. Her hand claps over her mouth as she comes to the realization of what she’s just done.
“I meant—what a great vision you have for the manor, Bowie.” She shrugs over at me. “In fact, I’ll go make sure everything is coming along in the kitchen. I’d hate for the canapés not to canappen.” She blows me an apologetic kiss.
I’m about to let some smart-aleck remark fly just as that old, familiar, warm, fuzzy feeling grips me, and I fall into a slightly vegetative state.
A picture begins to form in my mind. It’s the ballroom in the back of the manor. Elegantly dressed women swirl in the background and I can see Tilly’s skunky highlights to my right as Jackson leans in hard. The scene grows fuzzy as if it were going in and out of focus.
“Meet me in the library, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’ve got something special to show you that I think you’ll really appreciate.”
Tilly giggles like a schoolgirl, and soon the café comes back into focus and Shep is staring sternly into my eyes.
“Bowie, are you okay?” He steps around the counter and pulls me over to him and I blush as his hand warms my back.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” I try to shake the remnants of that supernatural trance away. “I just—I guess I was daydreaming about the ball.” I bite down a smile over my lip. “How about it, big boy?” I tease. “Save a dance for me?”
He leans back. A devilish grin struggles to break out on his face, but he’s successful in taming it.
“Maybe.” He nods my way. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Shep Wexler is tough, and ornery, and has a history with half the women in the state of Vermont. He’s the exact type of man I swore off after ditching my louse of an ex.
And ironically, he’s the one my heart is pining for most.
I lean over and give King a scratch on his fuzzy little head.
“I guess you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” I whisper as I look up to see Jackson licking his chops as he looks my way. I quickly glance to my left to avoid his gaze, only to spot Shep glaring at Jackson for drooling in my direction.
Well, well. It looks as if I’ve found a kink in Shepherd Wexler’s armor.
Shep looks as if he’s ready and willing to break Jackson’s legs for openly lusting after me.
Is that a spark of jealousy I see?
Now there is something I can work with.
I shed a toothy smile in Jackson’s direction before walking boldly past Shep as I head into the dining room.
I have a feeling tonight’s masquerade will be one to remember.

Chapter 2
The Mortimer ballroom is decked out like a bejeweled queen on this hot and humid night at the tail end of August.
The typically dank and empty halls are bustling with people. Men in dark suits with masks covering their eyes, their hair slicked back, and their cologne thick and spiced. But the women are the sparkling stars of the evening in their jewel-tone dresses that look as if they were ripped from another era entirely, each one made from heavy velour or thick braided jacquard fabric.