To Die Fur (A Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Mystery)

To Die Fur (A Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Mystery)

Dixie Lyle

Language: English

Pages: 352

ISBN: 1250031087

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Deirdre "Foxtrot" Lancaster is back. With trusted companions Whiskey and Tango, she's on the prowl for a brand-new predator...

Deirdre has her hands full, as usual. Working as a Jill-of-all-trades for a zany billionaire like Zelda Zoransky means the daily grind is closer to a juggling act, and this week is no exception-especially when her side job is directing spiritual traffic in Zelda's pet cemetery. With ZZ hosting a party for some of the world's wealthiest animal collectors and a rare albino liger named Augustus in residence at the private zoo, Foxtrot is ready for trouble to take a big bite out of her schedule...

TO DIE FUR

She doesn't have to wait long. The half-ton big cat is dead, and there's a houseful of colorful suspects, each one wackier than the next. But if they were all bidding to buy him, who would want Augustus dead? With the help of Tango's feline telepathy and Whiskey the canine shapeshifter, Foxtrot learns that there's much more to Augustus than meets the eye. Now they just have to sniff out a killer before any more fur flies...

"A delightful, funny [series] filled with eccentric and colorful characters, be they humans, animals or spirits. Dixie Lyle will entertain the reader page after page!"-Leann Sweeney, New York Times bestselling author of the Cats in Trouble mysteries

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distance might help both of us—all she could think of was what happens when warm and cold fronts collide in the atmosphere.” “They turn into a storm, right. But—getting on a plane when you think you have out-of-control weather powers? That doesn’t seem like a good idea.” “I said the same thing. She agreed, but told me she’s always felt safe in the air. I knew exactly what she meant; ever since we were kids, we loved flying. We used to play this game on airplanes when there was turbulence,

Obliviated.> [Well, I suppose that as far as incentives go—] “Okay, okay, I get it.” But I didn’t, not really. I mean, I guess I’d heard the phrase Nectar of the Gods, but that was about wine and Greeks. This was about dead cats and tiger gods and kitty drugs. “Oh, good,” I said wearily. “My weirdness quotient was looking sort of low today. This should bump it right up.” [Perhaps

looked proud and a little embarrassed. “I guess. Thunderbirds were supposed to be able to generate storms, but that wasn’t all. They were also—” He was interrupted by Consuela, one of the maids, hurrying through the door. “Excuse me,” she said. “Miss Foxtrot? Miss ZZ is asking for you.” “To be continued,” I told Ben, and he waved me back to work. Whiskey and I followed Consuela out of the kitchen and to the sitting room. ZZ could have just called me, of course, but she was always misplacing

and bluster, and eventually cool off. What did you think will happen if Augustus chooses Apedemek?” “Same thing?” I shook my head emphatically. “No. No way. She’s a schemer, and a schemer always has a Plan B. She’s playing nice first, because she has nothing to lose by doing so. But if that doesn’t work, she’ll follow up by doing exactly what tigers always do—she’ll go for the sudden, overpowering ambush. Full-out blitzkrieg attack, no warning. She’ll overrun the graveyard, hold it hostage, and

here to verify Augustus’s claim.] “Then let’s do it.” I walked toward Augustus, who watched me with interest but no fear. Whiskey and Tango came with me. “Augustus?” I said. I held out the tie. “Is the person who wore this tie the same one you met at your old home?” The big cat leaned forward and sniffed at the tie delicately. Then he sat back and regarded me quizzically. {Yes.} CHAPTER SEVENTEEN I knew the tie couldn’t be Luis Navarro’s—he was already gone, and he hadn’t left anything

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