"Kathleen and her two magical cats will once again be called on to save the day."
Reviewed by Leanne Davis
Posted September 17, 2013
Mystery Cozy
Kathleen's relationship with Marcus is on the rocks since
she kept interfering with his investigations. Her former
boyfriend has shown up in town to try and win her back. The
theater were summer plays were going to be put on has burned
down and they are moving the company to town.
When the director turns up dead, Marcus' sister becomes a
suspect and he is taken off the case. Kathleen really likes
his sister and wants to do what she can to get her taken off
the suspect list.
Kathleen is asked to ask her mother to take over directing
the play so she must do what she can to make it safe for her
mother.
Even with all the attention she is getting, Kathleen can't
help but be troubled by statements from some of the people
in the theater company. As she investigates, some
disturbing facts will be exposed and Kathleen will once
again use her cats help to discover the truth.
This series keeps me involved and entertained. The author
clearly loves cats and the Owen and Hercules add to the
entertainment value of the series. The mysteries are well-
crafted. It's always a pleasure to see another Magical
Cats
mystery coming my way.
SUMMARY
Small-town librarian Kathleen Paulson gets plenty of
entertainment from her extraordinary cats, Owen and
Hercules. But when a theatre troupe stumbles into more
tragedy than it bargained for, it's up to Kathleen to play
detective.... With her sort-of boyfriend Marcus calling it quits and her
ex-boyfriend Andrew showing up out of the blue, Kathleen has
more than enough drama to deal with--and that's before a
local theatre festival relocates to Mayville Heights. Now
the town is buzzing with theatre folk, and many of them have
their own private dramas with the director, Hugh Davis. When Davis is found shot to death by the marina, he leaves
behind evidence of blackmail and fraud, as well as an
ensemble of suspects. Now Kathleen, with a little help from
her feline friends Owen and Hercules, will have to catch the
real killer before another victim takes a final curtain
call.
ExcerptI looked at one cat and then the other. "I'm not talking
about Marcus," I said firmly.Owen stared at me for a minute, then turned to look
expectantly at the back door. A second passed, and then
another and then I heard a knock. I stood up and set Hercules on the floor. "How do you do
that?" I said, bending down to give Owen a quick scratch
behind one ear. All I got for an answer was a twitch of his
whiskers. I padded out to the porch door in my sock feet.
Andrew didn't give up easily. I rolled my head from one
shoulder to the other and then opened the door. It wasn't Andrew standing there. It was Marcus. "Oh, hi," I said stupidly. "Do you have a few minutes?" he asked. "I have a couple more
questions." His hair was windblown and in the light I could
see he needed a shave. "Sure," I said. "C'mon in." He followed me into the kitchen. Owen and Hercules were
sitting by the refrigerator. I gestured at the table. "Have a seat. I was about to make
some hot chocolate. Would you like some? Or I could make
coffee." "Hot chocolate's fine. Thank you," he said. Then he leaned
forward, hands between his knees. "Hello," he said to the cats. "Meow," Owen said. Hercules was content to just dip his head
in acknowledgment. I put milk in the microwave to warm and got two mugs and my
stash of marshmallows out of the cupboard. Then I leaned
against the counter. "You have questions." He nodded. "Tell me again how you found Hugh Davis's body." I repeated the story while I waited for the milk to heat,
leaving out how I'd tried to race Andrew to the top of the
stairs. "And you didn't see anybody up on the lookout?" Marcus asked
as I set a steaming mug in front of him. "No. But it was starting to get dark." I dropped a couple of
marshmallows into my cup. The scent of vanilla mixed with
the cocoa. I pushed the container across the table to him.
"Would you like a marshmallow?" Marcus squinted into the little china bowl. "They don't look
like marshmallows," he said. "That's because they're homemade." "You made marshmallows?" He still had that skeptical look on
his face. "I didn't make them," I said. "Maggie got them for me at the
farmers' market. The Jam Lady makes them." "What do they taste like?" I laughed. "You're as bad as Owen. Try one." At the sound
of his name, Owen, who had been washing his tail, lifted his
head. Marcus picked up the dish. "Well, what do you think?" he
asked the cat. Owen tipped his head to one side and his whiskers twitched
as he sniffed the air. Marcus held out the bowl. "They do smell pretty good." "Don't do..." Owen swiped one gray paw over the top of the small bowl and
a plump marshmallow landed on the floor at his feet. "...that," I finished. The cat immediately began to sniff his treasure. "You better not put a paw on that marshmallow," I warned,
pushing back my chair and standing up. Wrong thing to say. Owen's eyes flicked in my direction and then he dipped his
head and licked the top of the marshmallow. He looked up at
me, defiance in his gold eyes. Marcus started to laugh as a look passed between man and cat. "You better not have done that on purpose," I said, glaring
at Marcus. He picked up two marshmallows for himself and
dropped them into his mug. "I didn't. I swear," he said, holding up a hand. I reached for the marshmallow on the floor. Owen yowled his
objections and raised a paw. "Oh, c'mon, Kathleen," Marcus said. "Let him have it." "You're just as bad as Maggie," I said. "Roma will have my
head if she finds out I let Owen have marshmallows." He reached for his hot chocolate. "Well, I'm not going to
tell her" he said. He leaned sideways to look at the gray
tabby, still guarding his prize, one paw ready to swat
anyone (me) who tried to take it away. "Marshmallows are not good for cats. They're going to stick
to his teeth. Are you planning on hanging around to brush them?" Marcus's expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe you could make
a trade." Owen's gaze had been shifting between Marcus and me. Now he
meowed softly. "Fine," I said. "I'll trade half a sardine for that
marshmallow." "One sardine," Marcus countered. "He already had one sardine. One half." "One. Fish is brain food." Marcus leaned back in the chair
and folded his arms over his chest. "You're the one who
pointed out that he's going to have marshmallow stuck to his
teeth if he eats it. Do you want to floss his teeth tonight?" He glanced at Owen, who somehow seemed to be following the
conversation and chose the perfect moment to lean down and
lick the marshmallow again. I knew when I was beaten, but I made them wait just a few
moments longer before I gave in. "One sardine," I said,
holding up a finger. "One." I leaned forward and snatched
the marshmallow off the floor before the two of them tried
to up the ante. Then I got Owen his sardine and another for
Hercules, who had sat silently, watching and listening to
the "negotiations" with a bemused expression on his
black-and-white face. I sat back down at the table and Marcus smiled at me.
"You're right," he said. "These marshmallows are good." I made a face at him and reached for my own cup.
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