Dangerous Secrets by Susan Hunter

Author:Susan Hunter [Hunter, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951249694
Publisher: Severn River Publishing
Published: 2019-10-10T22:00:00+00:00

28

On my walk home, I kept looking for holes in Ross’s idea, but had trouble finding any. And it made me feel slightly ill. It wasn’t hard to imagine the desperation Mike had felt as the bills piled up. Embezzlement must have seemed like the only solution. And I was sure that he would’ve intended to pay it back when he could. But then how frightened he must have been when he realized that Duane was on a hunt that would eventually lead to him.

I didn’t agree with the idea that Mike had rejoiced like a lottery winner at Duane's death, but it was easy to understand why he’d been eager to take advantage of it. If Ross’s theory panned out, a world of hurt was waiting for the Chapman family, and they’d had plenty of that already.

Ross and I had agreed not to tell Phyllis anything until he had nailed everything down. To do that, he’d have to talk to Will Fraser at city hall. This wasn’t going to be very much fun for Will, either. Besides the fact that he was a friend of Mike’s, an embezzling scheme carried out under his nose wouldn’t look so good for the city manager.

I was so absorbed in my thinking that I didn’t notice a raised piece of concrete sticking up from the sidewalk until it caught my foot. I only avoided a face-plant in front of God and everyone by grabbing hold of the bike rack at the Purrrfect Kitty Boutique. When I looked up, Davina Markham, a crazy cat lady if ever there was one, was smiling through her plate glass window and giving me a thumbs-up. On impulse, I walked into her store.

“Well done, Leah. I give you a 10 out of 10 for trip recovery. And I’ll be making a call to city hall about that sidewalk.”

“Thanks, Davina. I’m pretty proud of that one, myself.”

Into a very small and narrow space, Davina had packed every conceivable toy, treat, and fashion accessory a pampered cat could desire. Her own fluffy white Persian, Sabrina, was draped across a glass-topped counter. She eyed me suspiciously and gave one long, lazy lift of her tail before resting her head back down between her paws.

“She just loves you, Leah. She never gets that excited for anyone else.”

Davina gives credence to the theory that pet owners, over time, come to look like their pets. Her long, white, fluffy hair frames a face with big, round, blue eyes, a short nose, and full cheeks. Viewed from the right angle, she looks very like a Persian cat herself.

“Well, she’s a beautiful girl,” I said, as I always do. I learned a long time ago that nothing warms a cat person’s heart like praise of her—or his—feline companion.

Davina’s little cat mouth turned up in a smile. “Yes, she is, isn’t she? You know, the animal shelter has a really sweet little tabby kitten I think you’d just love. Cats make great pets for busy single people.”

“I’m sure.

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