Escape Claws. Linda Reilly

      LYRICAL PRESS

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      www.kensingtonbooks.com

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      Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2017 by Linda Reilly

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      First Electronic Edition: December 2017

      eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0416-1

      eISBN-10: 1-5161-0416-1

      First Print Edition: December 2017

      ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0419-2

      ISBN-10: 1-5161-0419-6

      Printed in the United States of America

      Dedication

      In loving memory of my dad, Unico “Mike” Gregory

      Acknowledgments

      A huge thank-you goes to my agent, Jessica Faust, whose enthusiasm for the Cat Lady mysteries helped bring this series to fruition. Jessica, thank you for pushing me until I got it right!

      To my editor, Martin Biro, for taking a chance on me and on the series. Your insightful suggestions were spot on! You helped make the book come together in the best way possible.

      To my fabulous former coworkers, Mary Newman and Chris Newman, thank you for lending your names to the story. I had fun shaping your personalities, and hope you’ll enjoy what I did with them!

      To Maureen Nix and Stephan Nix, land surveyors extraordinaire, I can’t imagine how I would have described the disturbance of the boundary marker without your expert advice. Any errors, whether accidental or by design, are mine alone.

      To Jenny Kales, whose keen eye and passion for cozies helped me fine-tune the manuscript, I owe a million thanks.

      Most of all, to all those who have made the world a happier and better place by loving cats, this is for you.

      Cast of Feline Characters

      Callie A gray-and-white long-haired kitten, still wary of humans

      Luna Callie’s shy sister, a gray-and-white kitten, the pink dot on her nose giving her an extra touch of adorable

      Izzy A cuddly calico with an ever-quizzical expression, she loves curling up with her sibling atop Lara’s bedspread

      Pickles Izzy’s calico sister, who has a penchant for chewing strands of Lara’s hair

      Twinkles An orange-striped tiger cat with big gold eyes, he’s fond of snoozing with his best bud Dolce

      Ballou A black, short-haired feral with a darling white mustache, his fear of people is slowly fading

      Munster A striped orange male, he’s the sociable, unofficial greeter of all human visitors

      Dolce Long-haired and solid black, he’s as sweet as his name, a lovable lap cat

      Bootsie Slender and gray, she’s the cuddly mom to Lilybee and Cheetah

      Lilybee White with black markings, this kitten has developed a serious crush on the chief of police

      Cheetah Lilybee’s gray-spotted brother, he’s usually first at the food bowls in the morning

      Blue An elusive Ragdoll with a fluffy coat and azure eyes, she’s been around since Lara was a girl. Or has she?

      Chapter 1

      Lara Caphart paused at the foot of the wide porch steps and stared up at the old Folk Victorian. She was startled, and oddly relieved, at how little the place had changed. The white wicker settee still sat on the wraparound porch, its colorful cushions now sun faded. A hanging planter, devoid of any foliage, dangled from a metal hook in front of the green-shuttered window.

      She glanced over the yard she hadn’t laid eyes on since she was eleven. The lawn was a bit unkempt, and the shrubs along the base of the porch needed tending. Lara easily recalled the days when Aunt Fran had kept everything trimmed and tidy—postcard pretty, in fact.

      Heart thwacking against her chest, Lara slowly climbed the steps. Could it really be sixteen years since she’d seen her aunt? She tapped her knuckles on the wooden doorframe, lightly at first, then with a tad more vigor. After a wait of at least two minutes, the door creaked open. She took an involuntary step backward. “Aunt… Aunt Fran?” she asked with a slight gasp.

      The woman clutching the doorframe in one hand and a gray-spotted kitten in the other tottered sideways. “Well, if it isn’t the prodigal niece, returning to her roots. To what do I owe the pleasure? Did someone tell you I was dying?”

      All at once, Lara felt tongue-tied. She didn’t need a psychic to tell her that her aunt was in trouble. It was etched, like cut glass, in the hollows beneath her aunt’s green eyes—eyes that at one time had looked at Lara as if she were the niftiest thing since peanut butter on toast.

      “No. I, um…”

      “I suppose Sherry called you about my knee problems,” Fran Clarkson said, a bit more softly. “I can’t imagine why else you’d have driven all the way up here from Boston.” With a sigh and a slump of her thin shoulders, she opened the screen door. “You may as well come in.”

      “Thank you.” Lara stepped inside the once-familiar kitchen, a room where luscious aromas like cinnamon, apple, and cloves once lingered