Mango Cake and Murder- a Comedy Cozy Mystery by Christy Murphy

Author:Christy Murphy [Murphy, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pronoun

For a moment I thought I might miss that darn cat, but after trying for a half an hour to wrestle him into the van, I was so over it. We headed back up the dreaded mountain to see Margaret, under the pretext of finding the owner for that menace of a tuxedo cat. My catering-van driving skills hadn't improved much, and rush-hour traffic didn't help. Okay, Fletcher Canyon didn't have the traffic problems most of Los Angeles did, but even the few extra cars we had on the road made me nervous. It's one thing to die in a fiery crash off the side of a mountain. It's a whole other thing to take innocent bystanders with you.

"Is that a siren?" I asked Mom as I checked my mirrors and wished, once again, for a rearview window. The noise grew louder.

Mom tilted her head for a listen. "I don't think so."

Panic set in. "There's no place to pull over on this road."

"There's a turnout over here," Mom said and pointed to a very small bit of dirt to the right of the road, next to a death-drop of an edge.

"That wasn't big enough for our van."

"It was the size of two parking spaces."

"It came up too fast."

The siren grew louder, and in my mind, it sounded angrier. I kept trying to see the cop behind us, but all I saw was empty road. He must be right on our tail.

"We're almost at the Sanders' house. Just pull onto their private road and stop," Mom said.

My heart raced. The police already had it in for Celia. Now they'll have it in for me. I pulled onto the private road and shut off the ignition, almost forgetting to engage the emergency brake. Mom and I traded a look. "Sorry," I said.

The siren kept blasting, which annoyed me, because we'd obviously pulled over. I opened the door with my hands up in surrender.

"You don't have to put your hands up," Mom said.

"I don't want them to shoot me for fleeing," I hissed at Mom. Or rather, I didn't hiss, something else did. And that's when I realized it wasn't a siren. It was that darn cat yowling in the back of the van.

Mom suppressed her laugh.

"That cat could've killed us," I said getting back into the van and heading up the road to go to Sanders' house.

"I'm going to miss her when we find her owner," Mom said.

"It's a him," I corrected but Mom didn't answer. She pointed to the open gate. Normally, we'd have to buzz to be let in, this time it was open. I shot Mom a worried look.

"Just drive in," Mom said.

I did what she said, but I didn't like the look of this.

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