Page 21 of A Whisker in the Night

“She’s on my list next, too,” he says. “Word is, she’ll be working a shift at that restaurant she owns down in Seaview—and they happen to allow pets on the patio. Lucky for us, the weather will be warm. Are you up for lunch?”

I suck in a quick breath of delight. “Are you asking me to join your investigation?”

Leo belts out a laugh. “More like he’s asking to join yours.” He reaches over and pats Jasper on the back. “You know what they say, buddy. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”

“Ooh, I want to join,” Emmie says. “I hear that place is really snazzy.”

“Sure,” Jasper says. “The more expectant mothers, the safer I’ll feel,” he teases before looking at Leo. “Are you in? We could double our weaponry if you join us.”

“I’m on patrol tomorrow. I’ll leave the heavy homicide lifting to the three of you—especially you, Bizzy.”

“Very funny,” I quip.

“He’s not teasing,” Emmie says. “Leo thinks you’re the best homicide detective in the country.”

Fish whips her tail back and forth.I’ve always liked you, Leo.

“Thank you,” he tells her.

Sherlock gives a soft woof.And I always like a visit to a snazzy restaurant.

The Celebration Grill is the best of the best.Jellybean lifts her whiskers with a touch of pride.They always provide fresh water for pets and the waitstaff has a pocket full of treats. It’s how they garner their biggest tips.

Treats! Treats! Treats!Sherlock sings and spins in a circle.

Oh, good grief. Fish sighs.Bizzy,I think he’s broken. How about we lock him in a cage for the safety of humanity?

I wrinkle my nose at her for even suggesting it.

Gatsby gives a sharp bark.I’d go, but I smell danger. I’m a lover, not a fighter.

Cinnamon sighs as she rolls her eyes.And this is why the vet has put you on a diet. You do realize they feed us the same food. Now we both have to suffer because you’ve essentially turned into a hairy couch potato.

I turn to Emmie. “It looks as if we’ll be treated to a fancy lunch tomorrow.”

“And maybe a killer,” she says just below a breath so Jellybean doesn’t hear.

And maybe a killer, indeed.

I look over at Jasper and he nods my way with a sober expression.

Someone out there killed Hamish Westoff.

Here’s hoping his widow has some insight as to why—or in the least a few incriminating thoughts that might just help land her behind bars.

Chapter 12

The Celebration Grill sits perched on a cliff with its weathered cedar shingles and crisp white trim that glow in the spring sunshine.

The glorious oceanfront structure is just a stone’s throw from the sheriff’s department here in Seaview, and I can see how this place could quickly become the centerpiece of this town. The building itself is framed with the bold blue Atlantic and looks like a painting that’s come to life.

The wraparound porch is dotted with umbrella-shaded tables, pastel ribbons flutter in the wind from the railings, and strategically placed Easter lilies flaunt themselves as if they’re auditioning for a floral calendar.

“Fancy.” Emmie whistles as we pull into the parking lot. “I feel underdressed already.”

“You look beautiful,” I tell her, even though I’m starting to doubt my own fashion choices.

Maternity jeans and a flowy blouse seemed like a solid move this morning, but now... maybe not. At least the blouse is a cheerful spring green, and given the enthusiastic kick the baby just delivered, they clearly approve of it. Either that or they really want me to get a move on into the fancy establishmentbefore us and find something fancy yet delicious to send down the pike. Most likely that.

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