I even ventured outside for about 3 seconds, then decided that the sitting room with the fan ruffling my fur was much more to my liking! MOL
Part 18
(Just so I don't lose track of where I am in the story, well I am getting older, and I sometimes forget things these days! MOL)
The passage beneath Fuskerton Grange was cold, the air thick with dust and history. Our paws echoed against the stone floor as we descended, the glow of a single lantern barely enough to cut through the darkness.
Willie led the way, her grip on the ancient estate document tight, her breathing uneven. She was muttering under her breath. "Maybe Clawdia didn't get the real one..."
I ws just about to ask, the real what, when Hissy said. “Mew sure about this?” Her ears twitching as she scanned the shadows.
Willie nodded sharply, her determination unwavering. “There's a separate underground chamber that can be found on the original deed, but I don't think Clawdia knew about the all the other secret passages and rooms, as only family knows about these. And if she did, she would have rubbed it in our whiskers.”
We reached the bottom of the passage, it opened up with an arched ceiling and huge carved columns holding it up, where towering wooden archives lined the walls, their labels faded with time.
I ran a paw across one of the dusty shelves, my fur standing on end. Generations of history, locked beneath the estate, untouched.
Then, a glint of metal.
Willie’s paws stilled.
She leaned forward, pulling aside a stack of old ledgers, revealing a small, sealed vault embedded into the wall.
My breath hitched. “Is that it?”
Hissy’s tail flicked. “Mew're sure Clawdia didn't know about this?”
Willie swallowed hard, her paw hovering over the vault’s lock. The mechanism was old, its surface marked with royal insignias.
“I don’t know ...”
There movement behind us. I spun, heart slamming into my ribs.
Clawdia was here.
Her smirk was gone, replaced by something far darker. “I don’t suppose mew’ll just step aside,” she murmured.
Willie lifted her chin, standing firm. “It’s over, Clawdia.”
Clawdia’s eyes flickered to the vault. She took one slow step forward. Then another.
And for the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.
Not fear of losing.
Fear of what was inside that vault.
>^.^<
Part 19
Clawdia lifted the gun. "Well darling, don't just stand there like yesterday's news, open it! Chop chop!"
Willie stood before the vault, paws trembling slightly as she ran her claws along the old lock.
The gun aimed, she simply watched, her expression unreadable, but behind her eyes, uncertainty, that she may have missed the real prize.
Hissy narrowed her eyes. “Why are mew suddenly so quiet?”
Clawdia didn’t answer.
I stepped forward. “What’s inside?”
Silence.
Then, Willie inhaled, turned the lock, and pushed the heavy door open.
Dust billowed into the air, ancient and untouched. The glow of the lantern flickered against something inside, something wrapped in layers of protective cloth, resting atop a stone pedestal.
Willie reached in, unwrapping the fabric carefully.
And there, beneath centuries of secrecy, was the real relic, not the dummy one Clawdia had stolen.
We stared.
It was a crown.
A forgotten royal coronet, its metal darkened with age, but its jewels still glinting with eerie fire.
Hissy gasped. “This is what she was after?”
I met Clawdia’s gaze. “This is why mew tried to steal the estate?”
Clawdia’s smile returned, but this time, it was laced with something far more sinister. “This isn’t just a crown,” she whispered.
Heavy paw steps echoed down the passage and Muskulls appeared. He stiffened, stepping beside us, his eyes locked on the gleaming artefact.
And then, the final piece fell into place.
It wasn’t just a royal heirloom.
It was the last remaining symbol of a lost dynasty.
And whoever held it? Could rewrite history itself.
Homicide In The Hydrangeas
Who is Daisy’s secret admirer? Why did the victim have a picture of Daisy?
Today we return to Moorecliff Manor with another charmingly twisty instalment in this cat cozy mystery series, and this time delivering a crime that quite literally blooms in the flower beds. When a body is discovered in the hydrangeas, the serenity of the manor is shattered yet again, and it’s left to our intrepid feline sleuths, Sasha, Arun, and Aunt Araminta, to scratch beneath the surface of the case.
This third book builds cleverly on the previous two in the series, continuing the quirky yet compelling blend of domestic drama, organised crime intrigue, and garden-based peril. The manor's eccentric residents raise eyebrows as the investigation unfolds, with Inspector Hershey questioning why corpses keep appearing in such picturesque settings.
The story balances light-hearted character moments with darker undertones, including mysterious late-night visitors, an ominous limousine, and a photo of Daisy that links her to the victim in troubling ways. Daisy’s secret admirer subplot adds emotional depth, and the pacing ramps up as the cats venture into the murkier corners of this crime, purrsonal stakes and all.
It's well-plotted with the purrfect amount of cattitude. And if like me, mew love classic cozies, mew will appreciate the floral flourishes, tight plot, and exceptional feline intuition at work. While there’s plenty of tongue-in-cheek charm, the mystery itself is sharp, with enough twists to keep mew engaged right up to the final reveal.
Purrfect if mew're looking for a fun cat cozy mystery, feline detectives, and fictional flower beds with suspicious roots. And in my humble opinion a pawesome book to read or listen to, from start to finish on a lazy Sunday afternoon in the garden, under a nice shady tree of course, with a refreshing glass of iced catnip tea.
