Cat Sitter on a Hot Tin Roof (Dixie Hemingway Mysteries, No. 4)
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Curiosity Killed the Cat Sitter introduced a winning sleuth in Florida pet sitter Dixie Hemingway, and the next books in the series, Duplicity Dogged the Dachshund and Even Cat Sitters Get the Blues, firmly established author Blaize Clement as a new star amongst mystery fans. Now Dixie Hemingway, no relation to you-know-who, is back in this fourth riveting installment.
When Dixie meets Laura Halston, a newcomer to Siesta Key, she recognizes a kindred spirit and believes she's found a new friend. Disarmingly beautiful, Laura confesses that she's in hiding from an abusive husband. Later, when Laura receives threatening phone calls, Dixie is certain the husband is the culprit.
But the more Dixie learns about Laura, the less certain she is about anything…and then matters turn deadly. As she tries to understand Laura’s past, Dixie is forced to acknowledge things about herself that she has never faced before.
Fast-paced and gripping, Cat Sitter on a Hot Tin Roof is everything Blaize Clement’s many fans have come to expect.
like it—two eggs over easy, extra-crispy home fries, and a biscuit. No bacon, because I have a bacon monitor in my head that knows how much bacon I can eat without ending up big as Tanisha. Some days I tell the monitor to mind its own business, but only when I really, really need fried fat to ease my soul. Judy scooted away and left me to enjoy my breakfast. The man and the girl across the aisle were busy eating now, neither looking at the other or talking. A little bacon might have made them
both feel better. I ate as fast as I could, dropped money on the table, and waved goodbye to Judy and Tanisha. My mind and body were screaming for sleep. Except for sloshing surf and squawking seabirds, everything was quiet when I got home. The parakeets were having a siesta, and only a few bored shorebirds ambled along the sand. The day seemed to have lasted a week or two, and my Keds made weary shuffling sounds as I dragged myself up the stairs to my apartment. Ella was waiting for me inside
nursing unit too. I just want to know why—” “One of the indices of an inferior intellect is the obsession with the why of things.” My back teeth made grinding movements, as if they had their own obsession of what they’d like to do to this condescending prick. He said, “Your kind maintains the illusion that life is sacred, that the mere fact of having a breathing body with a beating heart somehow confers the right to continue one’s inane existence. That ridiculous worship of oxygenated flesh is
another person to smithereens. He may have paid Celeste to kill Laura, but we both knew he fully planned to kill me himself. I had to stall him, had to keep him talking until . . . until what? Until Pete wondered what was taking so long and came to investigate and got killed too? I couldn’t let that happen, but I wasn’t ready to give up. I said, “You expected to find Celeste here tonight, didn’t you?” “She thought she could outsmart me and take all the money for herself. We’d gone all through
Crane, for example, an attorney who had also kissed me and set off some hot tremors. But both Guidry and Ethan must have had as many doubts as I had, because after a few weeks of eluded opportunity—sometimes mine and sometimes theirs—they had all but disappeared from my horizon. Guidry stopped in front of me, and for a second we scanned each other’s faces as if we were using visual Braille. He said, “Enjoying the fresh air?” My head bobbed up and down like one of those fool dogs that people