Free The Purrfect Lie (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 12) by Patricia Fry

sleep listening for strange noises. But no—nothing showed up on our cameras.”
    “So the volunteers know you’re filming them?” Savannah asked.
    “No. We haven’t told anyone. Anyway, we only turn the cameras on at night.” She chuckled. “It’s kinda fun watching the kitties playing out there. The ferals really come alive at night.”
    Savannah reached out and touched Margaret’s arm briefly. “Hey, I had the most unusual encounter after I left your house yesterday morning.”
    “What happened?”
    “Well, I ran into Mr. Crankyshaw—I mean Crankshaw,” she said, chuckling.
    “Oh? What nasty thing did that old man have to say?” Margaret asked.
    Savannah rolled her eyes. “He sure is cranky, isn’t he? I’d hate to live inside his head. Of course, he criticized me for having Rags on the leash.”
    “I suppose he’d rather the cat come over and leave deposits in his garden,” Margaret said sarcastically.
    “Yeah. Well, I’m pretty sure he’d call the cops if he saw Rags anywhere near his place.” Savannah set her jaw. “I must say, I don’t appreciate being called an abusive cat owner, especially by someone who doesn’t seem to know much about cats.”
    “He said that?” Margaret asked. “…that you’re an abusive cat owner?”
    “In so many words, he did,” she said indignantly. She mimicked the man: “Cats aren’t dogs and shouldn’t be treated like dogs. If you want a dog, get a dog; don’t try to make a cat into a dog.”
    “Hmmm.” Margaret muttered. “Odd. I can’t even imagine why he cares. He says he doesn’t like that dog he’s always walking.”
    “I think he just wants something to gripe about, don’t you? If you say it’s a nice day, he says it’s too breezy or there’s not enough breeze or…” Savannah said. “I’m just glad I had Rags with me for him to criticize; otherwise, he might turn his ugliness against Lily.”
    “Ohhh,” Margaret said, her brown eyes flashing, “that would be a mistake. He’d never survive the mama-bear attack.”
    Savannah laughed out loud.
    Nearly thirty minutes later, Savannah announced, “Here we are at the city limits. Now, do you remember where that party store is?”
    “Yeah, take the next right. It’s about three miles. Did you bring the stroller? We may have a little bit of a walk.”
    “Yup. I figured there’d be walking involved. You said you wanted to go to the hardware store.” Savannah squinted at her aunt. “Why the hardware store?”
    “Oh, you know what cute things they have in there—gifty things. I want to pick up something for Rose’s birthday.”
    “Aunt Rose is having a birthday? How old is she, anyway?”
    “She’ll be sixty.”
    “I thought you were sixty.”
    “What?” Margaret almost shouted. “Me? No way.”
    “Well, how old are you?”
    Margaret mumbled something Savannah couldn’t hear.
    “What? Did you say sixty-five?” she joked.
    “No! If you must know, I’m fifty-nine,” Margaret admitted rather reluctantly.
    Savannah laughed. “Oh, that’s right,” then added, “well, you look good. You have the nicest skin. I wish I’d gotten the Brannon skin like you and Brianna did.”
    Margaret glanced at her niece. “Wish I’d gotten those long legs,” she lamented.
    “Yeah, they do come in handy for reaching the top shelf at the grocery store, running after my cherub, and beating short people out when hailing a cab,” she said, laughing.
    Margaret smirked playfully at her niece before saying, “Pull into this parking lot.”
    Once inside the store, the two women were rummaging through a bin of sale items that happened to include some of the Hello Kitty stock, when they heard a voice. “Gosh, these are great prices, aren’t they?”
    Savannah looked up, smiled, and said, “Well, hi.”
    “Hi,” the woman responded. “Are you planning a party for your little girl? How old is she?”
    Savannah stared at the woman. “Uh…she’ll be a year old…in…”
    “December