Meow is for Murder Read Online Free

raving about Amanda’s manipulation, money or not, on Lexie. “I should call her and say my schedule’s way too full after all.” I grabbed for my purse and the cell inside, then stopped. “But what about the poor cats? I know you don’t like them, Lex. I should listen to you and dump the whole dumb idea. Only . . . what would Jeff think if I finked out after agreeing? Do I care what he thinks? He’s becoming too much trouble anyway.”

    I took a right turn too quickly. Lexie slid from her post guarding the dashboard, which made me feel even more guilty. “Sorry,” I said. “And as much as I hate to spoil your fun, one of these days I’ll have to stick you into a doggy seat belt, for safety’s sake.”

    Her doleful expression suggested she understood. But she turned her back, hopped her furry little bod back up onto the shotgun seat, and again stared out the window—this time sitting instead of perched upright on her paws. I supposed that, if she spoke English, she’d have told me she’d sit still like a good dog should if only I forbore from restraining her.

    Although we were sleeping at Jeff and Odin’s that night, I aimed our route toward home. I needed a change of clothes.

    I also needed to sound out Rachel Preesinger, daughter of Russ, who rented my house. Russ initially moved in as a subtenant, but since my prior lessees were now clearly committed to not returning, I’d recently agreed to lease the place directly to him. More important at this moment, Rachel was my assistant pet-sitter at Critter TLC, LLC, and I needed info about her availability to tend to some nasty cats.

    Had I truly allowed myself to be manipulated for hidden reasons I hadn’t yet unearthed?

    Oh, yeah.

    Maybe I was wrong and could take all Amanda said at face value—ignoring how much I despised everything about her, including her face.

    On the other hand, maybe she truly had been desperate and hiring me as a pet-sitter had bounced into her brain out of the blue, just because I was there.

    I wished I could believe anything that witch did. But when it came right down to it, I was committed to caring for her cats.

    And why did all my concerns really matter, when the good thing was that the witch herself wouldn’t be anywhere near her kitty coven?

    “What do you think, Lexie?” I stopped the Beamer on the winding street where our home resided and pushed the button to unfurl our unfriendly wrought-iron security gate.

    Unfriendly, that is, to people we didn’t want inside. With Jeff’s assistance, I’d enhanced our security system substantially after the murder in the main house some months ago. And fortunately, the Preesingers weren’t the partying kind like my original tenants—who’d been accused of that very murder.

    Lexie didn’t respond to my obscure inquiry, but instead edged over till her front paws rested on the leg I needed available to control the brake and gas pedal. I pushed her gently away.

    “No opinion whether I should ask Rachel to handle Amanda’s nasty cats?” I pulled the Beamer into the driveway and halted in its habitual parking place outside the garage. Due to my reversals in fortune awhile back, after I was accused of an awful ethics violation, I’d been forced to resign from the major law firm where I’d been a well-paid junior partner. As a result, I’d had to file for bankruptcy, since I suddenly was living way beyond my means instead of simply abutting their envelope. I’d only been able to retain fee title to the fantastic, huge home I’d fallen in love with by renting it out to pay its mortgage.

    The whole matter had been mortifying, but I’d managed to muddle through it. I now had my law license back and was a junior partner at the Yurick firm, which was much more laid-back and gave me lots of latitude about which cases I handled. My boss and senior partner Borden Yurick had made it clear I could continue my enjoyable pet-sitting avocation if I wished. His only stipulation