Death of a Batty Genius (Stormy Day Mystery #3) by Angela Pepper Page B

hard-hat-wearing workmen, but underneath the chaos and drop cloths were the bones of an impressive foyer. High overhead, a huge chandelier of multicolored blown glass caught the late afternoon sun’s rays. The sculpture alone, with its candy-colored bulbs and swirls, was worth the drive up. My pulse raced in anticipation of experiencing the rest of the place—assuming the staff didn’t send away people who showed up with their cats in tow.
    We wove our way through the busy work site, to the pile of material most resembling a reception desk. Jessica and I waited there while Christopher went off in search of his cousin.
    Jessica glanced around. “They’re a long way from being open.”
    “I tried to warn you. Christopher’s big stories are always ten times grander than the truth.”
    “We’ll have fun anyway,” she said with a smile. “You’ll see.”
    “You wouldn’t mind if I left you both here, would you? I’ll come back to get you in three days, I swear.”
    “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve been working too hard, between setting up the new computer system at your store, plus all the stakeout stuff you’ve been doing for Logan. You need this, Stormy. When was the last time you had a vacation?”
    I batted my eyelashes. “Why, Jessica, my dear, every day in bucolic Misty Falls is a vacation.”
    “Bucolic? You make it sound like a dairy farm in England.”
    Elsewhere in the large lobby, one of the workmen started up a power tool. The noise made Jeffrey squirm in my arms.
    “Oh, so now you have misgivings,” I chided him. “Not when you climbed into the trunk of my car like some… cat burglar trying to escape maximum-security prison in a laundry hamper. What were you thinking?”
    He blinked up at me innocently. If he could have talked, he would have blamed the whole thing on Officer Peggy Wiggles. She was the one who’d brought over the toys and the tantalizing catnip. When no one was watching he’d ripped open the bag and thrown a herb party to end all parties. High on the fresh supply, he must have found his way into the open trunk of my car when nobody was looking and decided to sleep it off.
    On the bright side, he didn’t seem worse for wear, and now I could enjoy a getaway without missing him—assuming they let us stay.
    Ten minutes later, Christopher still hadn’t returned, and the workmen continued to ignore us. When we hunted down the construction foreman and asked him nicely about rooms and keys, he said, “Sorry, ladies. As you can see, the lodge isn’t open for business yet. Do you always travel with your cat?”
    Jessica looked the man straight in the eyes and said, “What cat? This is our son, Jeffrey. We’re an unconventional family.”
    “I’ll say,” he said with a laugh.
    After the foreman walked away, I asked Jessica to keep our son out of trouble while I called Logan to let him know not to worry.
    Logan answered his phone on the first ring, and when I told him about the stowaway situation, he exclaimed, “He did what ?”
    I snickered. “You sound just like a dad. Don’t be mad, though. It was all Peggy’s fault, with her intoxicating catnip.”
    “The little stinker! And here I was, looking forward to some quality boys’ time. Now I’m going to be lonely.”
    “That settles it. I’m coming home right now. I haven’t seen a single person here who’s on staff, and by the state of the lobby, I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t a bed or pillow in the joint.”
    “Don’t you dare leave. I’m paying you for six hours of consulting.”
    “I thought you said eight.”
    “That was before you cat-napped my buddy. I miss him already.” He chuckled. “But seriously, if I’m not needed for cat-sitting duty, I might take off for a few days.”
    “If you’re looking for a vacation, I can’t say enough wonderful things about the Flying Squirrel Lodge. Why, it has a roof, and a floor. Who needs rooms or beds? The view is spectacular.”
    “Thanks, but