Purrloined Bumpkin: COUNTRY COUSIN MYSTERIES, #8

By Sam Cheever

LaLee is a typical cat. She's snooty, hostile, and opinionated. She's also been kittynapped. Heaven help the idiots who thought that was a good idea. The good news is that they'll probably be so sick of her antics by the time we find them that they'll be happy to give her back!

 

My name is Joey Fulle and my superpower is solving mysteries with my handsome PI boyfriend. We also get a little help from my sweet Pitbull Caphy and her sisters in crime, LaLee the Siamese cat and Ethel Squeaks the miniature potbelly pig. Fortunately, we've been in a mystery dry spell for a few weeks and I'll admit, I've been a little bored. A condition I immediately regretted when LaLee was kittynapped. Now my posse and I need to discover why they took the crotchety cat, figure out how to save her, and then solve a murder.

Just another day in Bumpkinville!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Electric Prose Publications
• Release date: Mar 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9781950331888

Sam Cheever

Nobody really cares that Sam Cheever is a USA Today Bestselling Author. Nobody cares that she’s written a whole ton of fun and snappy books. Let’s face it, the most interesting thing about Sam is the fact that she’s a dogaholic. Yeah, there’s no Dogaholic’s Anonymous chapter that can help her. Believe me, she’s looked. So Sam deals with her problem the best way she knows how. She digs into the mountains of personal experiences (mostly involving dog poo) to write GREAT dog characters. Oh, and there are some people in her books too. She’s also pretty good at those. Want to ask Sam about her dogs…erm…books? You can connect with her at one of the following places. Just don’t ask her why she has 16 dogs. Nobody in the whole wide world can answer that. NEWSLETTER: Join Sam's Monthly newsletter and get a FREE book! You can also keep up with her appearances, enjoy monthly contests, and get previews of her upcoming work! http://www.samcheever.com/newsletter.html TEXT NEWS ALERTS: Or if you'd rather not receive a monthly newsletter, you can sign up for text alerts and just receive a brief text when Sam's launching a new release or appearing somewhere fun. Just text SAMNEWS to 781-728-9542 to be added! ONLINE HOT SPOTS: To find out more about Sam and her work, please pay her a visit at any one of the following online hot spots: Her blog: http://www.samcheever.com/blog; Twitter: http://twitter.com/samcheever; and Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamCheeverAuthor. She looks forward to chatting with you! She has a technique for scooping poop that she knows you’re just DYING to learn about.

Book preview

1

"I ’ve had LaLee for a little over a year, I said, tears clogging my throat. My first encounter with her nearly required stitches. But I still came out of it better than the Greek deity, aka my boyfriend, Hal. In addition to a series of pretty painful claw tracks, he had to go to the hospital because of an allergic reaction.

Really?

I nodded. He’s allergic to cats. I cleared my throat, sniffling. But, I’m getting off track, I told the attractive, dark-haired woman taking my statement. I took a deep breath. I can’t believe she’s been gone for almost two days in this weather. I stared out the windows running the length of the sheriff’s station and tears spilled from my eyes.

So much rain.

I gathered my thoughts again, forcing my gaze from the window. I’m sure she was kittynapped. Or catnapped. I’m not sure which is more accurate. I mean, one involves wrangling a hostile Siamese armed with claws and teeth that she’s not afraid to use. And the other implies a nice little nap.

Deputy Schmidt’s dark blue eyes showed no emotion. She had her cop face on.

I sighed. Kittynapped it is.

Are you sure she hasn’t just run away? the deputy asked.

I’m sure.

She peaked a brow to encourage me to explain.

So, I did. It’s raining.

The second brow joined the first.

LaLee hates getting wet. But even more than that, she hates getting dirty. If she’d gone out of the house she would have gotten both wet and dirty. There are mud puddles all over the yard.

Unfortunately, Deer Hollow was in the middle of a long stretch of rain. Spring in Indiana could be a decidedly wet affair.

Schmidt made a notation on the report she was filling out. It was a missing persons report. I was pretty sure there was no formal missing pets form at the sheriff’s office. Though, they had made me wait twenty-four hours after I’d realized LaLee was missing to come into the station. Okay. Do you have any idea who might have taken her?

No idea. I wasn’t lying. That cat would try the patience of a saint. Still, the house seemed just a little too empty without her. And my sweet Pitbull Caphy had been laying in front of the door all day, looking like somebody stole her last dog cookie.

"Do you have any idea why somebody might have taken her?"

That one was harder to answer. I’d been in the middle of several lawless episodes lately. By that, I mean I helped Hal, who’s a private investigator, and our friend Deputy Arno Willager solve crimes. Maybe somebody I helped put in jail isn’t happy with me.

That brought a slight smile to Deputy Schmidt’s well-formed lips. Anybody in particular? Clearly, she didn’t respect my mad PI chops.

I sighed. I’ve been racking my brain. I can’t come up with anything.

The deputy tried a few more questions, all versions of the same ones she’d already asked me pertaining to the main two concerns. Who would take my cat, and Why would they take her. I was more interested in the How since both Caphy and I had been home when the cat disappeared. Granted, I’d been vacuuming while rocking to music on my earbuds at the time. I probably wouldn’t have heard a gun go off under those circumstances.

Deputy Schmidt stood, offering me her hand. It was my cue to leave. I’ll keep an eye out for your cat, Joey.

I allowed her to clasp my hand in her strong, lightly-calloused grip. Thanks. I know I didn’t give you much to go on.

Hopefully, it was just a prank. Maybe someone is hoping to get you to pay a reward for her return.

I nodded, though I didn’t really believe it.

Two minutes later, I stood in front of the glass door leading to the parking lot, watching an apocalyptic level rainstorm flood the area beyond the glass. I looked at my pitiful umbrella and frowned. The poor thing would be no better than tissue paper against the force of that rain.

Lovely day, huh? said a voice behind me. I turned to find Deputy Mark Sheppard approaching from the hallway where the public restrooms were located.

I gave him a smile. Gorgeous. I can’t wait to go out there.

The deputy stopped next to me, peering out the door with a look of disgust on his small face. Deputy Sheppard was one of the smallest cops I’d ever met, male or female. I was five feet four inches tall, and I thought he might be my height or shorter. He was also famous for losing pens and writing reports that would rival Tolstoy’s wordiest books pound for pound. But even given his slightly off-putting personality, he was a good cop and a decent man. I hear you lost a cat.

I winced. It sounded so silly when he said it. They surely had more important things to do than search for a missing cat. Yeah. I think somebody took her.

Why would somebody do that?

That’s the question of the day. I opened my umbrella and cast a wary glance outside again. I guess I might as well get this over with, I told him.

He nodded. I’ll do a drive-by in your area later, see if I can find her.

His words brought unexpected tears to my eyes. That would be great. Thanks so much.

He shrugged. I like cats.

I felt it only fair to warn him. If you come across her, you might want to call Hal or me for backup. LaLee can be a handful.

He squared narrow shoulders and lifted his chin. I think I can handle a cat.

Since anything I said at that point probably wouldn’t have made a difference, and I didn’t really want to talk him out of looking for my cat, I just thanked him and shoved the door open.

I’d pay his hospital bills if he encountered LaLee. It seemed like the least I could do.

2

By the time I got to my Jeep, I’d gained five pounds of water weight and my umbrella resembled a palm tree in a hurricane. The handle was bent and several of the spokes had ripped free of the cloth. I threw the corpse into the back seat and flung myself into the front as another gust of wind-driven rain scoured me from head to toe in icy water.

Come on! I yelled to nobody in particular. It’s supposed to be spring. Why is it so cold?

My clothes squished wetly against the seat, and I was shivering so badly my teeth were clacking together. I maxed out the heater and huddled in my seat for a minute, hoping the temperature would rise quickly. If I tried to drive in my current state, I was pretty sure my foot would vibrate off the pedal from shivering.

Not to mention that I couldn’t tell the road from the shoulder at the moment.

My cell rang from the depths of my sodden purse. Grimacing, I grappled for it, hoping it hadn’t gotten wet. My hand found the familiar shape at the very bottom of the bag and I yanked it out, bringing several used tissues, a gum wrapper, and a stickie with an address scrawled across it out with the phone.

I shook the debris off the phone and hit the answer button. Hey, I said to my best friend, Lis.

What’s up? You sound like you’ve been running.

I’m currently out in the first landlocked tsunami ever recorded. I’m freezing to death, and I had to run from the front door of the Sheriff’s office to my car, which was unhappily parked at the far end of the lot. I’m soaked and freezing and miserable. Other than that, life’s a bowl of fuzz-free peaches.

She chuckled darkly. I can’t believe you went out in this mess. I canceled all my appointments for the day. Lis was a real estate agent with Deer Hollow Realtors. A former runway model, my bestie could sell a house to a man by simply pointing at it and fluttering her eyelashes. The fact that she was too classy to stoop to such antics, and was likable and kind, made even the men’s wives forgive her for being stunning and buy houses from her anyway.

That’s why I called you, I said. Thanks for calling back. LaLee’s gone missing. I think she was kittynapped.

Oh no! Joey, that’s terrible. What makes you think she was taken? Maybe she just ran away.

I explained how Hal and I had come to the strange conclusion that someone had actually taken their lives into their hands and willingly brought the deadly diva into their sphere. Deputy Sheppard thinks it might be one of those scams where people steal a pet and then return it for a reward. I’m not so sure. They might have started out with that in mind, but after LaLee took her first pound of flesh, it seems like they would have decided it wasn’t worth it.

Yeah, Lis agreed. But what does that leave? A true kidnapping?

I suppose it’s possible. Some people would look at my property and assume I was rich. And, if they knew me, they’d realize I’d do anything for my fur babies. But I’d expect them to take Caphy instead. She’s sweet and would probably lead the way outside just to get a ride in the car.

Except that lots of people are terrified of Pitbulls, Lis