Kitty Litter Killer Read Free

menu.
    “We’re selling Abbie’s latest book.” Ma pointed at the counter near the cash register. “She came by with some copies. April May set up a display this morning.”
    I’d missed it due to my son’s squirming, but I looked now, and I was impressed. April had done a good job. The black book cover with the profiles of a man and a woman, with the graphic of a sparkling gray bullet superimposed between them, was simple but attention-grabbing. This book was Abbie’s best suspense yet and her first to win real accolades. It was a cleverly plotted story about a man who plans his ex-wife’s murder and almost gets away with it.
    “She’s going to be a celebrity bride,” Ma said. “We might have to keep the paparazzi away from the church during her wedding.”
    “I doubt that.” I grinned at her flair for the dramatic.
    “Your mother just wants the publicity so she can expand and leave her friends behind,” Gail snarled as she sideswiped my mother on her way to make a shot of espresso for a customer.
    Ma glared after her, then she turned back to me, jiggling Chris on her hip. “Are you and Max still thinking about buying a new house?”
    “Maybe—why?” I couldn’t decide what to eat.
    “Linda Faye King has her real estate license now. And she’s working for me part-time in the mornings.”
    Gail snorted and slammed a ceramic mug on the counter. I blinked, surprised it didn’t crack.
    “Those cost money, you know,” Ma snapped.
    Gail replied by slamming another one on the counter.
    “So Linda’s not working in the hospital emergency room anymore?” I asked before they started throwing things.
    “No.” Ma was glaring at Gail.
    “She says she quit, but. . .” Gail’s words trailed off, leaving no doubt that she was suspicious of Linda’s exit from her job.
    “Linda just got tired of the hospital.” Ma turned her back on Gail. “I told her you and Max need to move, so she’s looking for houses for you.”
    “I didn’t say it was a for-sure thing.”
    “You know what they say,” Ma intoned. “The early bird gets the worm. You can never be too prepared.” My mother has an encyclopedia of platitudes embedded in her brain.
    Gail snorted louder and stomped to the back room. I wondered what was up with the two of them. I also realized I wasn’t going to be able to stop my mother from doing what she wanted to do once she set her mind to it—like finding me a new house. My best course of action was to just nod and agree. Or change the subject.
    “Have you heard anything about Philip Grenville being in town?” I asked.
    Lips pursed, she nodded. “He came by for a cup of coffee this morning. Linda Faye served him, and we were all polite, but I didn’t want to be. I haven’t seen him in years. He’s really aged. Looks older than he should, and no wonder. Pervert.”
    The word was one of my mother’s favorites to describe men who slept around on their wives.
    “Did you tell Abbie?” I was worried about how she would feel being so close to her wedding and having her ex-husband show up.
    “No. I haven’t seen her since he came. Really, why would it be important? That man broke her heart.” Ma drew herself up in indignant anger, and Chris laughed in her arms. He couldn’t understand her words and probably thought she was playing. “Her book should have been about a woman killing her ex-husband instead of a man killing his ex-wife.”
    “Ma!” I glanced around the shop, hoping the lull in conversations was coincidence and not customers trying to eavesdrop.
    “Well, nobody could have blamed Abbie if she’d shot Philip dead. He deserved it years ago. Now she’s finally got a chance at happiness with Eric. He’s such a nice man. A good man. A successful man.”
    She sounded a little bit like the Jewish matchmaker in Fiddler on the Roof.
    Ma kissed the tip of Chris’s nose. “I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that some relative of some woman Philip slept with shot him in the