Engaged in Death (A Wedding Planner Mystery) by Stephanie Blackmoore Read Free Book Online Page B

sparse and neat, everything in its proper place. Then I pictured the man who lived there and ground the heels of my hands into my eyes to burn out the vision of him. When I opened them, I was still at Thistle Park, surrounded by the ruined splendor of times past.
    And all of this moldy decadence was overpowered by a sour stench. By now, our eyes and noses were running freely.
    “This smell is intense.” Rachel was breathing through a tissue held over her nose and mouth.
    My eyes were tearing and I spoke with my nose pinched shut. “Cat pee,” I announced in a nasal voice.
    “Geez!” Rachel stood up. “What was that?”
    It was the likely source of the smell, a streak of black, white, and orange. A slim calico hissed at us, darting down the hall to the back of the house. I ran after the small cat in time to see it jump onto the kitchen sink and out the open window to the back porch.
    “More windows left open.” I followed the cat out to the back porch. The calico was guarding a cardboard box, and from the mewling emanating from it, I guessed what was in it.
    “A kitten.” Bowls of fresh water and kibble stood nearby.
    “Looks like someone is feeding them.” Rachel shied back as the calico headed toward her. “Do you think it’s safe to pet it? The cat could have rabies.”
    I laughed. “You sound like Mom.” I bent down to let the cat smell my hand in a gesture of good faith.
    The little calico shied away at first, then came back to sniff me.
    “She’s friendly, at least.” I reached out to pet her.
    The calico erupted into an outsized purr, surprisingly loud since she was so tiny. Her kitten sat up curiously. It looked like a fluffy little apricot.
    “I don’t think they should stay outside. Even if someone’s been feeding them.”
    “I guess not,” Rachel agreed reluctantly.
    The calico looked at my sister hopefully as she rammed her head against my hand, rubbing and purring.
    “We can air this place out and get them some litter boxes, and you can move out of that motel. You can’t stay there forever.”
    I muttered a noncommittal reply as we moved the mama cat and her kitten inside. The calico looked at me uncertainly when I picked her up, but she seemed fine when Rachel moved the box with her kitten.
    Just then, a horrible noise like a dying bagpipe clanged through the house.
    “What was that?” Rachel looked down as if the sound had come from our new furry friends.
    “The doorbell?” We settled the cats with their provisions in the kitchen and trooped down the long hallway to open the front door.
    “Howdy, ladies.” Our visitor grabbed my hand before I had a chance to properly take him in. He kissed it with a flourish.
    I retracted my hand from his sweaty octopus grip. He repeated the performance with Rachel. My sister giggled and gave me the side eye, as if to say, This should be good.
    “I’m Shane Hartley of Lonestar Energy. Which one of you lovelies is Miss Mallory Shepard?”
    “I am.” I didn’t want to admit my identity to this joker.
    “I saw your car out yonder.” He jerked his chin toward our rental. “I wanted to introduce myself and set up a meeting with you.” He extracted a business card from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it over.
    I reluctantly accepted the moist card and noted its star and Texas insignia.
    I narrowed my eyes and gave him a thorough once-over. He was short, about five six. He was aided in the height department by a pair of heeled cowboy boots, and he wore tight, faded jeans and a red plaid shirt. A round belly hung over a big belt buckle, standing out from the rest of his slight frame. His jolly face was lined and heavily tanned beneath his ten-gallon hat. The years of sunshine made him look older, but I guessed he was about forty. His drawl definitely placed him from the heart of Texas, yet he seemed to be overdoing it for a folksy affect. My sophomore roommate had been from Dallas, and she hadn’t laid it on this thick. I glanced at his