Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery Read Online Free Page A

ZONE, and Skye was trying to take that advice to heart.
    Her first assignment fell under Justin’s purview. He was in charge of judging. On his computer, he kept track of all the scores and tabulated them for the final round. Skye’s task was to find the contestants who didn’t show up in the correct judging areas and to help catch any feline escape artists.
    Justin had explained that because this was a small, unofficial show, all cats were being judged as pets. They would be evaluated on their beauty, character, demeanor, and grooming, rather than according to breed standards. There would be three rounds with three judges, so cats could collect up to four ribbons each—one for each roundand one for the Best of the Best. And no one judge’s opinion could influence that top prize.
    Skye had asked if there was a danger of hard feelings developing among competitors that might hamper the contestants from making a love connection during the later speed-dating activity, but Bunny hadn’t seemed worried.
    As Skye approached the rows of cages lining the bowling lanes—which Frannie had informed her was known as the benching area—she hoped that Bunny had protected the wooden floors. She sighed in relief when she saw that plywood boards had been laid over the tarp-covered floors. At least Simon wouldn’t have costly damages to add to his list of grievances against his mother’s latest harebrained scheme.
    Her mind at rest, Skye made her way down the aisles, admiring the imaginatively decorated pens and their cute kitty occupants. Stopping in front of a cage swathed in lilac satin, she peered through the bars. Inside, on a black velvet pedestal, lounged a pair of long, slender cats with short, sleek fur. As she studied the felines’ trilateral heads and extra-large ears, their tails whipped back and forth and they narrowed their striking blue eyes.
    A small sign edged in crystal beads read:
    FAWNCAT
SORIENTAL SHORTHAIRS
FAWN IRVING
LAUREL, ILLINOIS
    Entranced by the interesting-looking creatures, Skye jumped when a disembodied voice announced, “That’s Fawncats Ice Pearl and Fawncats Ice Opal, but their call names are Miss Pearl and Miss Opal.”
    “They’re amazing.” For the second time that day Skye found herself talking to thin air. “I love their little pixyish faces.”
    “We call that wedge-shaped.” A tall, thin woman in her late fifties emerged from behind the cage, catching the edge of the table with her hip and knocking over the oversize champagne glass full of tiny opalescent balls that had been perched on top of the crate. “Their heads should form perfect triangles,” she explained while righting the glass and rounding up the escaped faux bubbles.
    Her own face had high cheekbones and a pointy chin. Those features, along with her buzz-cut white-blond hair, made Skye wonder whether the woman had chosen the breed because of its resemblance to herself.
    “Interesting,” Skye murmured, then asked, “Are you Fawn Irving?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m Skye Denison. I’m here to escort you to the judging area for number seven.”
    “Great.” Fawn opened the pen door and swooped up one of the cats. “I heard people were getting lost, and Miss Pearl here gets spooked easily.”
    Skye led the way to the basement door. Halfway down the steps, Fawn tripped and slammed into Skye. Luckily, for both women, Skye had a firm grip on the banister, and her substantially greater weight halted the lean breeder’s momentum.
    When they were all on solid ground, Skye escorted Fawn into one of the three rooms being used for judging. Skye stopped just inside the door, but Fawn placed Pearl in the only vacant cage of the nine set up along the rear wall.
    A woman whom Skye immediately identified as Elijah Jacobsen’s earlier victim, Alexis, stood with her back to the assembled cats, facing a long table. Attached to the front was a poster that read:
    SCUMBLE RIVER CAT SHOW
JUDGE ALEXIS HIGHTOWER
RING #1 ROUND #1
    Glancing over