"A must read for fans of comedic detective stories."
Reviewed by Maria Munoz
Posted February 18, 2012
Mystery Woman Sleuth
Catarina "Cat" DeLuca found her calling after discovering
her husband with another woman two months into their
marriage. Now Cat is a Private Investigator and proud owner
of the Pants on Fire Detective Agency specializing in
catching cheating spouses in the act. Nothing brings the
true state of your marriage home better than an 8X10 glossy
of the (soon-to-be-ex) spouse in action. When her former
client and new assistant (or is it partner?) Cleo Jones is
the prime suspect in the shooting death of her cheating
husband Cat is the only one convinced Cleo is innocent.
Cat's search for the killer is both helped and hindered by
her family full of cops and others with secretive pasts and
great connections. It doesn't help that Cat's mother is
convinced Cleo is guilty and Cat needs a real job; she's
withholding the cannoli until Cat sees the light. Hunky FBI
Agent and boyfriend Chance Savino and the mysterious and
handsome Max lend their muscles, which comes in handy as the
danger escalates.
STICKS AND STONES is a must read for fans of comedic
detective stories. I thoroughly enjoyed this second book in
the Cat DeLuca Mystery series. I just purchased the first
book to play catch-up and had no problem reading the second
book as a stand-alone, though I'm sure I'll re-read it once
I have the context from the first book. I really liked
everything about this book. Cat is a wonderful character-
strong, independent, smart, and a little snarky. She really
believes in what she does and why regardless of what others
think of her chosen profession. The situations she finds
herself in are funny and dangerous without seeming
contrived. The location, Chicago, and her big and loud
Italian family and neighborhood add a colorful richness to
the story. KJ Larsen weaves a compelling plot and isn't
afraid of ambiguity, things aren't as nice and neat as one
might expect which allows for some unexpected twists. I
can't wait to read the next Cat DeLuca story.
SUMMARY
What does a woman do when she discovers her husband is an
incurable cheater? If she’s Cat DeLuca she launches the
Pants On Fire Detective Agency. Now Cat does what two years
of unholy matrimony taught her. She catches cheaters. When a
client (Cleo Jones) shoots her cheating husband’s bum full
of buckshot, he disappears, taking her money, dog, and
sister with him. Private Investigator Cat DeLuca promises to
return the dog and money if her client stops shooting at
Walter. Cleo agrees. The detective finds the dog and a
mysterious bag chuck full of cash. And then she finds
Walter. His very dead body is still warm.
The case is a slam dunk for the cops who arrest Cleo for the
murder of her husband. She had motive and opportunity and a
dozen witnesses heard her scream bloody murder. One made a
video.
Cat DeLuca is determined to prove her client’s innocence and
it’s not an easy sell. Walter was an unsavory character with
enemies. To find his killer, Cat will have to sift through
the ones who didn’t pull the trigger. Her investigation
leads to four players with secrets: a childhood friend, a
gambler, a construction tycoon, and a legendary Chicago
designer. When forensic evidence suggests the detective
knows more about the murder than she’s telling, Cat faces
the certain loss of her agency.
Cat DeLuca is smart and charming. She’s an unlikely heroine
and her partner, a beagle named Inga, is quite likely to eat
the evidence. Sticks and Stones delivers steamy romance,
intrigue and laugh out loud humor for a wickedly delicious
read.
ExcerptLeo raised the gun again and leveled the barrel at
Cleo. Moving guardedly, he circled the desk to the body.
He crouched and pressed two fingers on Walter's neck.
"He's dead," I said.
"And still warm," Leo noted.
He pulled the radio from his belt and called in a one
eighty-seven.
Leo jerked his head toward the window. "Get out of here,
Cat. Go out the window. Back-up's on the way."
"She didn't kill him. Walter was dead when we got here.
What are you doing here anyway?"
"A neighbor called about a disturbance. A woman fitting
your friend's description was overheard threatening to kill
a man named Walter."
"Well technically many women fit Cleo's description."
"This woman was wearing leopard print spandex and a
sparkling gold shirt."
"Not many women can pull that look off, I give you that."
Leo cocked his head toward the body. "Is it safe to
assume he was one of the many Walters in the world?"
"Chicago Police," a voice bellowed from downstairs.
"Up here, Tommy." Leo‘s eyes gleamed, gun trained on
Cleo. "You know Tommy," he said to me. "I'm breakin' him
in."
I knew Tommy alright. He's a rookie from rural
Wisconsin, hardly more than a kid. He was there the day
somebody blew up Dorothy, the Mustang Jack gave me for a
loaner. It was Tommy's first day on the Force and he was
way too close to the fireworks. You could say I did my
share of breaking Tommy in too.
Tommy's boots pounded the steps, taking two at a
time. "What the heck, Leo," he called. "I was around back.
You were supposed to call me before ?"
Tommy stomped into the room. He glimpsed Leo's weapon
trained on Cleo and fumbled for his gun. Waving the forty
caliber Glock between Cleo and me, he tracked the bloody
paw marks to Walter's lifeless body. The red headed
rookie's lips paled when he saw all the blood. He wrenched
his eyes from the body and saw me for the first time.
"Cat?" Tommy stammered. "What'going on here?"
"Don't you point that gun at her," Leo said. "That's
Tony DeLuca's daughter. Show some respect."
"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"Put the gun away, Tommy," I said. "Cleo and I are
trained detectives."
Leo snickered.
"Pants On Fire Detective Agency," Cleo said
crisply. "It's a highly regarded operation."
Leo let out a bark of laughter.
I ignored him. "My assistant ?"
"Partner," Cleo said.
"Cleo Jones, was worried about her husband, Walter. We
stopped by to check on him. The door was unlatched so we
came in."
"Your husband?" Tommy said. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Walter was a putz."
"She is overwrought with grief, and she doesn't know
what she is saying."
A tear tumbled down Cleo's cheek. She dashed it away
and sidled up next to me. Then she dropped something in my
hand. I felt the keys to her Camry.
Cleo leaned over and whispered in my ear. "This isn't
looking good for me, Cat. You know they always blame the
wife. Promise me you will bail me out. You know where I
keep my assets."
A siren wailed with increasing ear-shattering intensity,
stopping cold on the street outside.
"Listen guys," I said, "I found the body before Cleo
even came upstairs. I was calling it in when you arrived."
"Uh huh." Leo snapped the handcuffs on her wrists.
"What are you doing?" I demanded. "A murderer is
getting away."
"For the last time, Cat, go home."
"You have the right to remain silent," Tommy began.
"Yeh, yeh," Cleo said. "You think I don't watch
television."
I followed the three of them downstairs. "You're making
a big mistake, Leo. I was with Cleo the whole time."
Leo glared at me. "She didn't say that, Tommy," he
said. "Cat DeLuca doesn't know this woman. In fact she
isn't even here."
"Wait," Cleo said. "I want to make a call."
"You can call your lawyer from the station," Leo said.
"Who said anything about a lawyer? I'm calling my
sister, the ho. I want her out of my house. Walter's
dead. It's all mine now."
The rookie's jaw dropped and Leo stopped on the stair to
write something in his notebook.
I groaned. "Don't write that down, Leo. Does anybody
have any duct tape I can borrow?"
The cops looked at each other.
"When did you first decide to kill your husband?" Leo
asked.
"Don't answer that." I turned to the cops. "My
assistant has nothing to say without a lawyer."
"Partner." Cleo piped in.
Tommy shrugged. "If she's innocent she won't mind
answering the question."
"I'm not that innocent," Cleo said. "When Walter left
me, I wanted to kill him. Somebody just beat me to it.
That's all."
I threw up my hands. "Super glue, anything? I am
begging here." I looked at the grinning cops and turned to
Cleo. "I'll call a lawyer and meet you at the precinct. Do
you think you can manage to keep it zipped that long?"
Cleo pressed her lips together in a thin line and nodded
as we stepped onto the porch. The house was surrounded by
cops, gawkers, and a neighbor waving a video camera. Leo
angled his chin in a way that said, "Get outta here." I
began walking to the Camry.
"Yoo hoo, Cat," Cleo called. "Don't forget I'm singing
Saturday night at All Things Blue. Bail me out in time to
shop for a dress."
A ripple of snickers erupted from the crowd.
"Flames," I muttered. "She's going down in flames."
I eased the Camry into the street. My breath came
shallow and fast. A knot lurched in my gut. I needed a
miracle.
I called my Uncle Joey.
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