Paws In Space

Paws in Space A CRYSTAL BEACH PARANORMAL COZY MYSTERY CRYSTAL BEACH MAGIC MYSTERY SERIES BOOK FIVE KAREN MCSPADE Copyright © 2022 by Karen McSpade All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, in whole or in part, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the publisher except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine, or electronic publication. Edited by Darci Heikkinen Cover art by The Cover Coven This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Created with Vellum FREE GIFT Receive your FREE copy of Dog Gone Troubles, the Crystal Beach Magic Mystery series prequel, and get notified via email of new releases, giveaways, contests, cover reveals, and insider fun when you sign up for my Mystery Book Club mailing list! Click Here To Sign Up and Claim Your Free Cozy Mystery Book NOTE: If you’re already a member of my VIP Mystery Book Club, your email will not be added again. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Would you like more Crystal Beach mysteries? Free Gift Books By Karen McSpade About the Author Chapter One He’s still out there, you know, your old boyfriend, Mojo said as he came and wrapped himself around my legs while I sat in the doorway of my camper van, Maude, the morning after the murder at the police station. I shut my laptop, giving up on my attempt to record the events of the past few days in a form that might ultimately become my next article as the Florida reporter for Living It Large in Boston magazine. Rubbing himself up against me was an unusually affectionate gesture for the most independent of my cats, like he knew I needed some solace. Abra and Cadabra, the two Siamese, were loving to the point of needy, often forcibly burrowing their way between the covers to be close to me at night. Jinx, the other brown tortoiseshell tabby, was a bit wild and crazy, although he had his friendly moments. Mojo, however, was almost always aloof. There was a sense that he was in charge and generally above it all—something that had been reinforced since he had started speaking to me in my head. “Because I haven’t found out who killed him yet either,” I replied glumly. “Eduardo Fitch’s ghost is probably now out there too. And we’re lucky that Jessie isn’t with him.” I felt guilty that I had thought mean, jealous things where Jessie was concerned from the moment I met her. But how could I not? In her enthusiasm to solve Ben’s murder, she had seemed quite keen to pin it on me, but then I learned that this might have been nerves because she apparently “liked” me. And all along, I thought Jessie was the problem. I kept thinking that she was my competition—pretty, sexy, girl-next-door competition—for Officer John Reece’s affections. It’s not like you owe Ben’s ghost any closure; you haven’t seen him since high school. And, as I understand, he upped and left you behind. I glared down at Mojo as he stopped to nuzzle my ankle. “So why do you make a point of calling him my ‘old boyfriend,’ then, and bring my attention to the fact that he’s still out there like it’s my fault or something?” I’m a cat and have a lot of free time to fill. Mojo stopped and turned around to look towards Jinx, who was chasing sand crabs around on the beach, standing up to splutter and spit sand out of his mouth every time he missed one. And these three are not the most stimulating company, he added. A cool breeze blew in from the ocean, the previous night’s storm having stolen the humidity away for now. But this was Florida; it was sure to be back with us again well before midday. “Anyway,” I went on, “Ben had to move suddenly, and both his parents died on the way to their new home. Can you blame him for being too traumatized to reach out to me?” So much had happened in the last day or so, and a memory that I had pushed behind more immediate things resurfaced in my mind. And their death wasn’t an accident, Mojo put in, turning back to me and doing that annoying thing where he read my surface thoughts. I recalled the end of the spell in Ben’s ransacked apartment, which had given me the information I needed for the flash drive password—right before I had passed out. The headlights on that truck. It was Mojo’s voice in my head, yet, at the same time, the voice of Ben’s dad from the brief vision I had received at the end of the spell. One voice layered over the other in an eerie fashion. “Don’t,” I said to Mojo, not enjoying the disorienting feeling of hearing the two voices in my head at once. The flashback had seemed so clear, so definite in that moment at the end of the spell, but since then, it had been easy somehow to doubt it, to push the horror of it aside. Ed, came both Mojo and the voice of Ben’s mom, calling out to her husband in panic as the truck bore down on them, they’re going to ram u—! I shuddered, remembering the terrible metallic crunch that had cut her words short, and stood up. “Stop it!” I shouted at Mojo, who just looked back at me mildly, his tail swishing slightly, a tongue coming out to lick over his lips. Somebody, came Mojo’s solo voice in my head, did not