July Fireworks Sky
The seventh in the serial story of Cat Collier, a small-town girl who opens her own investigation service in the sleepy little town of Heaton Valley in Northeast Ohio.
In July Fireworks Sky, the seventh book in the Cat Collier Mystery Short Story series, private investigator Mary Catherine Collier, known as Cat, finds herself in a disturbing, life-altering situation related to her brother’s trial. The outcome will have far reaching effects for not only herself, but Carter, Spencer, and others.
The location for this cozy mystery bounces back and forth from her quiet, sleepy hometown of Heaton Valley, Ohio to New York City, where Cat has another branch of her detective agency and a wonderful, new love.
Will Cat finally find the honesty she’s looking for?
The location for this cozy mystery bounces back and forth from her quiet, sleepy hometown of Heaton Valley, Ohio to New York City, where Cat has another branch of her detective agency and a wonderful, new love.
Will Cat finally find the honesty she’s looking for?
Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07TCD63G5/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i0
But wait! Read an excerpt before you buy:
But wait! Read an excerpt before you buy:
Chapter One
Clearly No Carter
My cell phone rang. It was the delightful Spencer Paxton.
“Good morning,” he said warmly. I could hear him smile. I could see his sweet smile in my mind’s eye. “Welcome back to Cardinal Park. We all missed you. Was it a rough flight in this morning?”
“Yes, it was a bumpy ride through the storm. But we made it,” I answered.
“We?”
“Yes, I brought Nola with me to work on the Tenants vs. Miller Apartment Complex case. We finally got a preliminary hearing date next week. I need to be ready. I need a fresh viewpoint on this one. Nola has an eye for detail.”
“I hope you guys never decide to gang up on me.”
“As long as I’m your only tenant, I think you’re safe.”
“Would you like to come up and have lunch with me today? Say around 1:00? You can bring Nola. You can bring Skamp, too, if you want. I’ll send down the elevator.”
“Matteo has lunch with his grandmother every day. She looks forward to some private time with her grandson. Besides, he’s afraid of you. But Nola and I would love to come up for lunch. See you soon.”
“Soon,” said Spencer. Again, I heard the smile.
***
“That’s her little gentleman friend on the phone,” said Cat’s New York assistant Matteo Skampotti. “I can tell by her smile. Have you ever meet him yet?”
Nola shook her head no.
“I’ve seen him, but never actually spoke to him. Blond guy. Kind of short. A little skittish, but he seems very nice.
“He’s good for her,” continued Matteo. “He sends her flowers, phones her during the day, and makes her smile. She’s forgetting about that stupid idiot who treated her so badly. What a damn shithead he must be. She’s laughing more. She’s making jokes. I think she’s happy, much happier now than when she first came to Cardinal Park.”
***
“Nola, I think I’ll call Jean Houston to see if she’ll come over and help us sew up this case. This isn’t her field, but she has a sharp, legal mind.”
“Will she tell Carter?”
“No. She can keep a confidence.”
“So can I, you know that, right?”
“I know.”
“I didn’t tell Carter where to find you.”
“I know you didn’t. I don’t know how he found me.”
“I do. He said he saw you get in a cab at the airport. He had his cab follow you here. They almost lost you twice speeding down the street. Classic car chase excitement. He told Detrick all about it while I acted like a disinterested third party.”
I changed the subject. Normally the tale of taxi cab chasing taxi cab frantically through the crowded streets of New York City in an attempt to reunite separated lovers would have sent my heart racing. But not today.
“By the way, we’ve been invited to Spencer’s apartment for lunch. Want to go?”
“Sure.”
“Before we go upstairs, I have to tell you a little about Spencer Paxton?”
“Is he cute? Is he rich?”
“He’s complicated.”
“So he’s not cute. And he’s not rich.”
“Be serious. He has issues.”
“Is this like a ‘Don’t stare at his giant hump’ issue?”
“No.”
“Visible third eye?”
“No. He’s a hermit.”
“So a hermit in New York City invited us up to his apartment for lunch. Are we on the menu?”
“I said hermit, not cannibal. Will you cut it out? He’s very sweet. And I like him. I like him a whole lot. Let’s go.”
***
Nelson ushered us into the dining room. The table was set for four.
“Please be seated, ladies. Mr. Paxton will be out momentarily. Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Nola and I said in unison.
Nelson left the room.
“Are things always so formal around her?” asked Nola. “Look at those beautiful beveled glass windows. This tray ceiling is gorgeous. Oh, my goodness, I love this china! It’s so beautiful. I feel like I’m having lunch at Downton Abbey, but with just us and the butler sneaking us into the dining room.”
“Well, there she is,” said Spencer as he crossed the room to give me a warm hug. “I missed you.” He gave me a soft squeeze. “And this must be Miss White. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you. Welcome to my home,” Spencer extended a hand to Nola.
Nola shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Paxton.”
“Call me Spencer, please.”
“Nola,” Nola smiled.
Nelson carried in a tray of salads and bread sticks and sat it in the center of the table. Then he sat down across from Nola.
“Nola White, this is Paul Nelson.”
Nelson nodded.
“So tell me, Nola, is this your first visit to New York City?” asked Spencer as he passed the salads.
“Yes.”
“Don’t judge the whole city by our little neighborhood,” said Nelson. “We’ve seen better days. Much better days. Are you originally from Ohio, too, Nola?”
“No. I’m from Pennsylvania. An employment placement service sent me to Heaton Valley for a job interview as office manager for Steel Man Trucking. I got the job and ended up staying there.”
“How long are you in town?” asked Nelson.
“Only for the day. I came to help Cat with a local case.”
“We have some great museums in the area. Maybe the next time you come to town, you can stay a little longer. I’d be happy to show you around.”
“Why, thank you, Paul,” said Nola. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“Mary Catherine prefers a light lunch on days she’s busy. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not a picky eater. I eat cupcakes right out of the plastic container. Yes, a big lunch puts Cat to sleep. Lunch here, no matter what, is a treat. You have a lovely apartment, Spencer.”
“Thank you,” Spencer answered with a smile.
***
“So, Nola, what do you think of Spencer?” I asked.
“He’s a sweet, little man. He’s obviously taken with you. He didn’t take his eyes off you once,” said Nola. “He gives you that ‘I’m obviously interested in you’ look. I don’t get any bad vibes from him or anything. He’s not a serial killer with dead bodies stuffed in plastic bags stashed behind that beautiful wood paneling. He seems safe enough.”
“However?” I added. I knew there was more she wanted to say.
“But he’s clearly no Carter Larsen. You can’t possibly be romantically interested in him after what you had with Carter. Child, what’s the matter with you?”
“I am romantically interested in him. I’m growing fonder of him every day. He doesn’t simply tell me what he thinks I want to hear. It’s not all sweet talk and hot hormones. He doesn’t have that magic touch that makes me forget what I’m thinking or how to think or what my name is. He’s willing and able to talk things out. He’s mature. He’s an adult. He’s honest with me.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s it. He’s honest. And he also doesn’t have the gorgeous underwear model ex-girlfriend Yvette who’s still hung up on him. In fact, for the last ten years, I’m guessing Mr. Butterfly Cups has had no girlfriend at all. So, he can’t cheat on you with his ex.”
“Well, I guess that’s a possibility.” I rubbed my head to shake away Nola’s logic. “But when I’m with Carter, I can’t think straight. I see him, I hear him talk, and I’m carried away on some hormonally dense love-lust cloud machine. All I want is to be with him. Nothing else matters.”
“What’s the matter with hormones? Our species would have died out by now if it weren’t for those hormones.”
“Don’t dislike Spencer, Nola.”
“Oh, I don’t dislike him, but I think you’re seeing qualities in little Mr. Spencer Paxton that aren’t really there. He’s a nice, older gentleman. He has very good manners. A gorgeous, old apartment. And beautiful china. That’s it. Oh, God, you aren’t sleeping with him, are you?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Not yet.”
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