Murder and a Song (A Pattie Lansbury Cat Cozy Mystery Series Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

kitchen knife protruding from
between his shoulders.  Nor did it
explain the motive of the murderers. 
Could Harry Widmore have been jealous of Blossom’s lover?  There was an age difference between Harry and
Blossom, and frankly Blossom was getting the better deal out of the
arrangement. Was it enough for a laid back young man like Harry to commit
murder?

                This
was all assuming that Blossom wasn’t actually involved in the crime
herself.  But Pattie was so sure of her
judgement that it was hard to admit that Blossom might not be innocent after
all.  Was she just being stubborn?  Or was there more to it…?

                And
what was it about the cat in their tent that troubled her so much…?

                Mia
and the other cat settled down to sleep. 
Pattie listened to their gentle purring for a while, until she drifted
off herself into an uneasy slumber.

Chapter 8

    “Yes? 
What is it?”

                Pattie
was back at the farmhouse of Seth MacGowan. 
His wife Elaine had answered Pattie’s knock, and she looked positively
exhausted.  She was still in her morning
gown and her hair was tousled and greasy. 
Seth had heard his name mentioned and was calling from another room.

                “My
dear!” said Pattie, alarmed at Elaine’s appearance. “Whatever is the matter?”

                “Pattie,
it’s been a terrible week!  First we got
burglarized, and the police say they haven’t got the manpower to investigate
because of this damned festival.  We have
our own CCTV and caught a couple of teenaged hoodlums on tape, but there’s
no-one to follow it up!”

                “Did
they get away with anything valuable?”

                “I
haven’t noticed anything missing other than the TV and my purse.  We don’t have much.  But they must have scared O’Malley senseless:
he’s nowhere to be found and he never strays past the farm.  And to make it worse, we don’t get a minute’s
peace from all that noise across the road, it seems like it goes on all day and
night!  I haven’t had more than a few
hours’ sleep each night.”

                Pattie
had noticed the boarded up front window of the farmhouse, and the damage to the
doorframe.  At least Seth hadn’t been
fibbing about the break-in.

                In
any case, Pattie had believed Seth’s story about getting kicked out of the pub
and sleeping through until morning.  She
didn’t believe that he was a suspect in the murder. “In fact,” she said to
Elaine, “the only reason I’m here is about your missing cat … Is this
O’Malley?”

                Elaine
took the Polaroid photo of the cat from the tent. “Oh, yes, this is him!  That’s his green flea collar.  Is he okay? 
Do you know where we can find him?”

                “What’s
that?  The cat!?”

                Seth
came to the door and snatched the Polaroid out of Elaine’s hand. “That’s
him!  Who took him?  If it was those little brats who robbed us,
I’ll tear them limb from limb!  Where did
you take this photo?”

                “Calm
down, Seth,” Elaine said impatiently, putting a hand on his hairy forearm.
“Pattie was about to tell us.”

                “I
found O’Malley in a tent in the festival camping grounds.  I think he was drawn there by the smell of
food.”

                “That
bloody festival!” Seth roared. “Well, tell me which of those unwashed hoodlums
has him and I’ll go and fetch him back!”

                “Don’t
worry,” said Pattie, “I know where he is, and I’ll go to collect him for
you.  Cats wander sometimes; it’s in
their nature.  He’s probably already sick
of all the noise and getting his paws muddy.”

                “Not
likely,” Seth grumbled. “He’s a typical farm