Page 13 of A Whisker in the Night (Country Cottage Mysteries #29)

W e step out onto the patio here at the Celebration Grill and the balmy breeze engulfs us just as the salty brine from the sea does the same.

But it’s the fact that our next suspect is gawking in our direction that has our full attention.

Verity Westoff freezes mid-stride as if she’s just seen her bank account after a shopping spree. Her perfectly coiffed blonde hair and crisp white blazer scream “polished professional,” but the look on her face? Pure panic.

“She looks perfectly jolted,” Emmie whispers. “Maybe she thinks Jasper’s caught the killer and he’s come to break the news?”

Or maybe she is the killer and she’s afraid he’s here to make an arrest, I want to say but give a little nod instead.

That cat is still alive? Verity’s mouth squares out in surprise as she heads this way and I pick right up on her thoughts. She was there that day with Hamish. I thought for sure she was long gone. Could she have seen what happened? Although it wouldn’t matter. She’s just a ridiculous little cat...

“Speaking of looking jolted…” Jasper murmurs, leaning in close. “Is it me, or is her reaction something just this side of a confession?”

“No confession yet,” I whisper back. “She’s marveling that we’ve brought Jellybean.”

“That makes more sense.” He gives a slight sigh of disappointment.

I know Jasper is just as anxious to catch the killer as I am. And I also know that he wishes I wouldn’t be just as anxious in that department.

The baby delivers another kick—either agreeing with Jasper or demanding food. Honestly, it could go either way at this point.

Well, well, Jellybean gives a mewl that’s as smooth as butter. Looks like someone isn’t thrilled to see me. And why am I not surprised?

A waiter breezes past us with a seafood tower that looks like it belongs in an underwater palace. Dry ice cascades over its edges in dramatic waves, and I’m pretty sure I just saw a pearl wink at me.

“I see why people rave about this place,” Emmie whispers and her eyes are wide with anticipation.

My stomach growls as if agreeing with her and I inadvertently startle a couple at a nearby table as we walk by. I believe one of them just said the words bear on the prowl .

They’re not wrong. If I get hangry , I can be quite the bear.

Verity approaches with her million-dollar paper white smile firmly in place. Her skin glows tangerine against the crisp white blazer she’s donned, her long milky blonde hair looks brittle from top to bottom, and her fuchsia lips stand out like a beacon against the bright blue sky.

But her thoughts? They’re swirling like a hurricane and one that I can’t quite decipher. I’m betting whatever she knows about that day in the woods is locked up in there somewhere.

Time to put on a show. Fish sighs from my bag.

Oh, Verity knows how to put on a show, Jellybean adds. Hamish always said she knew how to bring on the drama.

Sherlock gives a soft bark. At least the view makes up for the drama we’re about to endure.

He’s not wrong. The ocean stretches endlessly beyond the cliff and sunlight dances on the waves like glittering confetti. It’s the perfect backdrop for a lunch where I’m hoping a certain blonde someone won’t be lying through her teeth.

Verity stops in front of us, and I can’t help but think her face is more or less a picture of rehearsed surprise.

“Jellybean?” Her voice wavers before she catches herself and she plasters on an even brighter smile. “I’ve been so worried about her!” She nods my way. “The sneaky little kitty disappeared the afternoon... the afternoon it happened.” She fans herself for a moment. “Where did you find her?”

“She was in the woods next to the inn,” I say, watching the woman closely. “I found her the day your husband died. We’re so sorry about your loss.”

“Yes, so am I.” Her smile doesn’t falter, but her thoughts scatter like startled pigeons. And then her expression breaks and suddenly she looks crestfallen. “The poor dear,” Verity says, giving Jellybean a quick nod. “I’ve been so lost in grief.” She pulls a monogrammed handkerchief from her pants pocket and dabs at nonexistent tears. “I thought that by throwing myself in my work it would get my mind off of things and lessen the sting, but nothing seems to help.” She offers a crumpled smile to Jellybean. “She was always Hamish’s shadow. That little rat chaser followed him everywhere.” He loved that cat more than anything. Maybe more than me.

My heart cinches because I certainly know how deeply the love for a pet can run. It sounds as if Hamish adored Jellybean, and rightly so.

“We’ve been taking good care of her,” I say just above a whisper. “She’s been a pleasure. And she gets along great with both my cat and my dog.” I give Sherlock Bones a pat on the head as I say it.

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear!” Verity’s relief feels genuine. “Hey? Would you mind terribly keeping her a bit longer? She was really Hamish’s cat. I’m not much of a pet person, and with everything happening... and now with the move. I’m not leaving town, I’m just ditching my house. It’s far too big, and I don’t want to be rolling around in it all alone. Besides, there are too many memories there. You understand.”

“We certainly do,” I say. “And I don’t mind one bit.”

“Wonderful,” she beams, blinding us with those glittering white teeth before her expression grows sober once again. “Detective”—she turns to my handsome hubby—“have you found whoever did this to my poor husband?”

Jasper quickly shakes his head. “Not yet. But I have high hopes this will come to a quick conclusion.”

“I’m sure it will,” she says with a single nod. In fact, I know it will. It couldn’t be more obvious who did this, and I’m going to make sure he hears an earful of exactly who and why.

A breath hitches in my throat at the thought.

I cannot wait to hear all about it.

The baby kicks again, reminding me that no matter how this conversation goes, at least we’re guaranteed an excellent meal.

And maybe a killer on the side.