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Authors: Sparkle Abbey

Tags: #Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Animals, #Cozy, #Thriller & Suspense

Downton Tabby

BOOK: Downton Tabby
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Table of Contents

Downton Tabby

The Pampered Pets Mysteries from Bell Bridge Books

Downton Tabby

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Pet Treat Recipes

Please visit these websites for more information about Sparkle Abbey

Acknowledgements

About the Authors

 

Downton Tabby

“CASH? JAKE?” I stepped around the massive kitchen table, piled high with electronics, and out into the sunshine. Blinded for a moment by the brightness, I didn’t immediately notice the person in the pool.

When I did, I also registered that he was facedown.

Oh, no. Not good.

Caro Lamont, amateur sleuth and well-respected animal therapist to Laguna Beach’s pampered pets, works with office mate and tech wizard, Graham Cash, whose beloved Scottish Fold tabby cat, Toria, is purported to have anger management issues. But when Caro drops by the charming Brit’s Tudor-inspired mansion to return Toria, she finds his business partner dead and Cash missing.

Caro is left with the cuddly cat and a lot of unanswered questions. Is Cash the killer, or has he been kidnapped? What’s up with the angry next door neighbor? And what about Cash’s girlfriend, Heidi, who isn’t sharing everything she knows with homicide detective Judd Malone?

Suddenly there are more secrets and intrigues than there are titles in England.

Betty, hiding in restaurant shrubbery, and wannabe investigative reporter Callum MacAvoy, who seems to be constantly underfoot, and you’ve got a cat and mouse mystery of the first order.

Caro’s got to solve this murder before the killer lets the cat out of the bag.

 

 

 

The Pampered Pets Mysteries
from Bell Bridge Books

Desperate Housedogs

Get Fluffy

Kitty Kitty Bang Bang

Yip/Tuck

Fifty Shades of Greyhound

The Girl with the Dachshund Tattoo

Downton Tabby

Raiders of the Lost Bark (coming soon!)

 

 

 

Downton Tabby

by

Sparkle Abbey

Bell Bridge Books

 

 

 

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Bell Bridge Books
PO BOX 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-643-7
Print ISBN: 978-1-61194-624-6
Bell Bridge Books is an Imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.
Copyright © 2015 by Carter Woods, LLC
Published in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
We at BelleBooks enjoy hearing from readers.
Visit our websites
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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Cover design: Debra Dixon
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo/Art credits:
Illustration (manipulated) © sababaJJ | iStockphoto.com
Face (manipulated) © Subarashii21 | Dreamstime.com
Collar © Roughcollie | Dreamstime.com
Paw Print © Booka1 | Dreamstime.com
magnifying glass © Yudesign | Dreamstime.com
:Mtdc:01:

 

 

 

Dedication

This book is dedicated to family. Ours and yours. To cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, and friends who have become family. The love of a family, whether by birth or by choice, is a blessing.

 

 

Chapter One

THE IRISH SETTER and I had a lot in common, and I don’t just mean hair color.

Cork was a former show dog. I was a former Texas beauty queen. We were both named after places, and we both had families with issues.

My family drama would have to wait, but I thought I could assist with hers.

“So, Carolina, what do you think? Is my girl depressed?” Spencer Hogsworth, Cork’s owner, bounded into the room. He ran a hand down the dog’s feathery chestnut fur and gave her a pat on the head before continuing around us to fling open the drapes.

“I want your expert opinion,” he continued. “You came highly recommended, by none other than Hollywood’s darling, Diana Knight, as Laguna Beach’s top pet therapist.”

He said “top” with such emphasis you’d think I performed life-saving heart surgery, instead of sanity-saving dog and cat therapy.

I’d had to start the day without coffee, which isn’t a good thing for me, or for the people who are unfortunate enough to have to interact with me sans caffeine, but I was trying very hard to be patient. And Spencer Hogsworth, bless his heart, was certainly trying my patience.

He’d bounced in and out of the room like a terrier with a tennis ball while I was trying to evaluate his dog, creating a distraction that made it difficult to assess her current state.

Cork was five, and the previous season had been her last year on the show circuit. I suspected she was more than ready to retire. I’d rebelled at a much younger age (in people years anyway), walking out on the Miss Texas pageant at eighteen, much to my mother’s chagrin.

“I don’t believe Cork is depressed.” I slid down on the floor next to the beautiful dog and ran my fingers along her back. She flipped her head, ears flopping, and nudged my hand so I’d be sure to reach a spot on the back of her neck.

“What then?” Spencer folded his tall, lanky frame into a puffy, lime-green chair. “What are we to do? Just look at the havoc Cork is causing.” He gestured toward the lavish post-modern living room.

“Havoc” was a bit strong, but Cork did have a problem with sitting still, and lately, according to Spencer, she’d been getting into everything she could. Recently, her inquisitiveness had turned destructive and she’d apparently chewed up Spencer’s brand-new six-hundred-dollar Armani wallet. And all of his credit cards.

“A simple solution we can try . . . ,” I paused, waiting for Spencer to give me his full attention. He stared off into space, lost in a reverie, perhaps thinking about all the competitions represented by the shiny trophies lined up like soldiers on the floor-to-ceiling glass shelves covering the far wall. Each one must surely represent a memory.

I was tempted to snap my fingers, like I often did with the dogs, but I resisted. “Spencer?”

“Yes?” He shifted in the chair to look at me.

“A very easy thing to start with is exercise.” I gave Cork one more belly rub and then brushed the dog hair from my jeans and stood. She scrambled to her feet. “Irish Setters need at least an hour of exercise a day. I know that’s not news to you.” I held up my hand to stop him from interrupting. “And I’m sure you exercise Cork, but my guess is you both have a less active lifestyle now that you’re not constantly training for dog shows.”

“True.” Spencer popped out of the chair and began straightening the pillows on the massive ultra-modern couch. “That seems too easy.”

“Let’s try it.” I was sure both Spencer and Cork were going to need a new interest to focus on now that their show days were over. But getting Cork more exercise would be a beginning. “I’ll check back in a week and we’ll re-evaluate how y’all are doing. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes, yes, we can try it.” Spencer crossed to pull open the room’s French doors and let Cork outside.

I smiled as the rollicking redhead raced across the length of the backyard and back, and then pounced on a leaf. “I’d like to see her get at least thirty minutes of exercise, twice a day. The dog park would be great, weather permitting, because there she would really have room to let loose and run.”

Spencer agreed to the increased exercise and trips to the dog park. I left my phone number with him and encouraged him to call if he had any questions or if anything new came up with Cork.

Once outside, I stood on the front steps a moment and inhaled the crisp sea air. I’d like some room to run myself but I had a busy day ahead, so I didn’t think time for letting loose was in the cards for me. When I’d arrived, I’d left the top down on my silver vintage Mercedes roadster, and the morning sun had warmed the leather. I tossed my bag in the back, slid behind the wheel, and reviewed the day so far.

It had been a bumpy morning.

Let me catch y’all up.

IT HAD STARTED with my need for morning caffeine. I’d filled the pot with water, scooped in my favorite organic grind, pushed the button, and waited for the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.

I waited. And waited.

Nada. Nothing.

My coffeepot had up and died. I know, minor stuff, right? Fair enough. I’d just stop at the Koffee Klatch on my way to the office and then pick up a new coffeepot after work. They make great coffee, the place is not out of my way, and I’d planned the morning to catch up on paperwork, so no biggie.

About that paperwork. I despise it. Now that might sound kind of strong, but I really do. Here’s the deal, I’m a pet therapist. I work with problem pets, and so I think it goes without saying that paperwork isn’t my favorite part of the gig. The pets are. What could be better than a day spent with people and their fur babies?

Laguna Beach is a great place to be in the pet business because there are more registered pets in the community than there are children. Needless to say, folks here are crazy about their furry family members. I can relate; I’m crazy about mine, too.

BOOK: Downton Tabby
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