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Buttercup Bend Mysteries - Books 1-3

Buttercup Bend Mysteries - Books 1-3

Book summary

Dive into Debbie De Louise's first three tales set in Buttercup Bend, where Cathy Carter, an animal rescue center owner, becomes an unlikely sleuth. From uncovering the mystery behind the "Cat Crazy Lady's" death and unraveling her college professor's murky past to solving the murder of a llama-loving librarian, Cathy faces intrigue, danger, and a myriad of suspects in a tight-knit community. Each case challenges her detective skills, drawing readers into the charming world of Buttercup Bend and its web of secrets.

Excerpt from Buttercup Bend Mysteries - Books 1-3

Awakening in her bed with Oliver at her feet, Cathy thought she’d had a nightmare. But then she saw Gran sitting next to her in her long nightgown, her gray hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes, deep blue and alert, met Cathy’s. “How are you feeling, dear? You’ve had quite a shock. The sheriff and Pauline brought you home. They told me all about Maggie. I feel terrible. Such a horrible thing to happen in our town.”

Cathy had no recollection of having traveled in the police van, but she recalled that Pauline had found Maggie murdered. When she sat up, she still felt dizzy. “Does the sheriff have any suspects? Did he get the photos he wanted?”

“I think he called Brian over there to take them.” Florence glanced over at Cathy’s bureau where her camera lay. “As far as suspects, he’s questioning a few people. In fact, I promised him I’d come down to the station after I was sure you were okay. There’s no rush. We can eat breakfast first.”

Cathy was confused. “Why does he want to speak with you?”

Florence looked down at the quilted bedspread where the Siamese was still sleeping, but one blue eye had opened a slit as if he was listening to the conversation. “I was at BINGO last night and brought Maggie some tea afterwards because she had missed the game due to a headache. Do you remember that I came home and picked up some of that herbal tea I give you when you have migraines?”

“How did the sheriff know about that?”

Florence raised her head. “Pauline must’ve mentioned it when he asked her who had seen Maggie yesterday. I’m not mad at her. She was just filling him in.”

Pauline was known as the “gossip monger” of Buttercup Bend and that’s why, after she retired from teaching, she took the job as editor for the paper to keep abreast of all the goings on in the nightborhood. Cathy wondered who else she may have informed the sheriff about. Cathy had passed Maggie’s house late yesterday afternoon when she was taking photos, but the place had seemed dark, and she hadn’t noticed anything sinister.

“What else did Pauline tell the sheriff?” Cathy asked.

“I really don’t know, Catherine. They spoke privately. I was about to make some breakfast. Why don’t we eat outside? It’s a lovely day. We can let Oliver stroll a bit, and maybe Steve can join us when he comes.”

Cathy had lost track of time and had forgotten that the gardener was due that morning.

The sly twinkle in her grandmother’s eyes reminded her that Florence was an incorrigible matchmaker. Steve wasn’t the only man her grandmother was hoping Cathy would date. Every time the local vet, Dr. Michael Graham, came to the rescue center to check one of the pets or examine Oliver, Florence offered tips on how to flirt with him.

Although both men were strikingly different in appearance and personality, Cathy was equally attracted to them. However, having had a few short-lived romances in the past, she was wary to start a new relationship.

Cathy offered to help Florence make breakfast, but she refused. “You just sit on the patio and relax, Catherine. You’ve been through enough this morning.”

As her grandmother walked to the refrigerator to take out eggs, Cathy realized she was limping. Despite many days when she woke up with debilitating pain in her back, Florence still managed to keep up the household chores as well as assist some of the rescue center volunteers and help with the maintenance of the cemetery’s garden.

“I’m well enough to give you a hand, Gran. Your back seems to be bothering you this morning.”

Florence nodded as Oliver came to her side and rubbed against her, purring. She bent down gingerly to pet him. “I’m a little stiff and sore but not extremely so.”

Cathy knew her grandmother could be stubborn and was reluctant to accept help, so she insisted on at least bringing out the silverware, napkins, and orange juice. Oliver scooted behind her, happy to be in the fresh air.

Just as Cathy was about to make a second trip inside for the coffee, she heard whistling by the gate. Turning, she saw a tall blond head peeking over the top. Keys jangled, and the gate swung open. Steve ambled through, his face brightening when he saw her.

She waved and felt a smile widen her cheeks. “Good morning, Steve.”

The gardener approached. Cathy noticed how his tanned skin emphasized his well-formed upper body muscles through his white polo shirt. He wore khaki knee-length shorts, and his smile showed a soft dimple as his blue eyes regarded her with warmth.

“Mornin,’ Cat. How are you this lovely day that you match so purrfectly?”

She laughed at how he called her by her nickname and the way he said the last word. It masked her embarrassment at his compliment. She brushed a strand of her honey gold hair back, exposing the scar that was a reminder of the awful accident that had bruised her inside and out and left her and Doug orphans.

Although Steve seemed to like what she wore, she wished she’d dressed nicer than in an old pair of jeans and a lemon-yellow sweater turning brown after so many washes.

To bring the subject off her and to a matter of more importance, Cathy asked, “Did you hear what happened to Maggie Broom?”

Steve frowned. “No. What happened to her? I was at her house yesterday fertilizing her catnip garden.”

“Pauline found her dead when she went over her house this morning. I was taking photos on the block and was there when the sheriff arrived.”

“That’s terrible.” Steve bowed his head in respect.

“Yes. I couldn’t believe it when Pauline rushed out of the house. A murder in Buttercup Bend doesn’t seem possible.”

“Must’ve been a burglary. I know a lot of old people keep money hidden in their homes because they don’t trust banks. Ms. Broom was eccentric. I could see her stashing away cash inside one of her cat beds or even under a litter pan.”

“You might be right, Steve. I know Gran has spending money tucked away somewhere in our house, but I doubt it would be under Oliver’s litter box. I’m sure Sheriff Miller is investigating what happened to Maggie and who might be responsible.”

An uncomfortable silence hovered over them. Steve dug his hands into the pockets of his shorts and lowered his head as if examining something in the grass.

“I was hoping to catch you this morning when I came to water the grounds. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Sure. What’s up, Steve?”

He began to shuffle from foot to foot. With his eyes on the ground, he spoke so quietly a bird flying overhead almost drowned out his words.

“There’s a square dance Friday night, and I was wondering if … Would you want to go with me?”

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