Murder and a Song (A Pattie Lansbury Cat Cozy Mystery Series Book 2) by Nancy C. Davis Page A

and he’s definitely not
going to let me shut down the festival and send home sixty thousand people.   The best we can do is post an officer by
their tent and let him call for back up when he sees them come back.”

    “I
don’t think that’s going to cut it,” Pattie replied gently. “But I understand
that you don’t have a choice.   Could you let me know if anything happens?”

    “Of
course,” said D.C. Downey, and hung up.

    Pattie
put the phone down quickly, having heard a dry coughing from the lounge.   O’Malley was hacking up a hairball
about the size of a freighter, from the sounds of it.   She was about to walk through when her mobile rang in the
kitchen.

    “Patricia?”
called Elliott from the other room. “You’re going to want to see this…”

    “Just
a moment please, dear,” called Pattie, and went to answer her mobile.   The call was from an unknown
number.   She answered it anyway.
“Hello?   Patricia Lansbury
speaking.”

    “Pattie?”
said a female voice. “It’s Laura Conrad, from YTV News.”

    “I
know who you are, Miss Conrad.   You
don’t have to introduce yourself every time.   And it’s Patricia, if you don’t mind.   How did you get my number?”

    “I’m
an investigative reporter.   C’mon.”

    “May
I asked why on Earth you are whispering?” asked Pattie, attempting to restrain
her temper.

    Down
the phone, Laura Conrad said in a hushed voice, “Pattie, please listen to
me.   Right this moment I’m up a
tree in the woods next to the festival site.”

    “Why
are you—?”

    “Because
I just followed your suspects Farrell and Draper here, that’s why.   They’re hiding in a coal store about a
quarter of a mile in.   It’s about
halfway between where their tent is and the stone bridge where Harry Widmore’s
body was found.”

    “Why
aren’t you calling the police with this?” asked Pattie.

    “I
tried, but all their lines are busy.   It must be the festival.   Can you get to the station and have someone come out right away?   I don’t know how long these guys are
gonna stay here, and I can’t follow them around forever.”

    “Alright,”
said Pattie. “Hold tight.   I’ll
call them now.”

    “Thank
you,” whispered the reporter. “Hurry!”

    Pattie
made a call to the station, but the line was engaged.   She knew that she couldn’t wait long, so she grabbed her
coat from the hook and put it on. “Elliott?   I’m afraid I’ll have to nip out for a few minutes; it’s
urgent.”

    “Patricia,
come here.”

    Pattie
responded to his tone and walked into the lounge.   She saw at once that O’Malley had been sick, and produced an
enormous sticky hairball on her carpet. “Oh dear…”

    “Look
a little closer,” said Elliott, who was peering at the thing from a distance of
three inches himself, despite the smell. “I don’t think this is just a
hairball…!”

Chapter 24

    Constable Juliette Palmer had all but
given up trying to find her two suspects in the woodland.   They had searched the area for twenty
minutes, but it was as though they had vanished into thin air.   Her officers had looked up trees,
kicked through fern and bracken, and scoured the edge of the riverbank for
hidey-holes.   But there was no
hideaway to be found, and so Constable Palmer had left two of her officers
staking out the tent and let the rest call it a night.   She was in the van driving home officer
Hill.

    “It’ll
be the Chief that’s going to get it in the neck if another body shows up,” she
murmured, checking her mirror before turning a corner. “I swear.”

    The
station radio crackled: “Car six, car six, please respond.   Over.”

    The
Constable picked up the receiver. “I’m here.   Over.”

    “Juliette,
it’s Tom.   Are you home yet?”

    “I
can’t be if I’m in the van talking to you on this radio, can I?”

    “Good
point.   Turn around.   We have a lead on Farrell and
Draper.   They’re still in the