The Purrfect Murder

logic.
    Doodles—the fuzzy in his mouth—Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter scampered throughout the garden path, which was brick laid in a herringbone pattern. Pewter hated to leave the glowing ball behind, but outdoors provided the chance to snag a bug or maybe something bigger.
    Then something bigger slithered right across her path: a four-foot blacksnake.
    “Snake!”
Pewter froze in her tracks.
    Mrs. Murphy pounced on the tail, which made the large snake curl up.
    “Don’t you dare,” Harry reprimanded her tiger cat. “Blacksnakes are friends.”
    “Oh, bother.”
Mrs. Murphy stepped backward.
    The snake, flicking out his pink tongue, murmured,
“I catch more mice than you do.”
With that, he disappeared under the periwinkle ground cover.
    “What an insult!”
Mrs. Murphy puffed out her tail, but Harry paid her no mind.
    “We’re home.” Little Mim threw open the cottage door, painted royal blue, as were the shutters.
    “In the back,” Blair called out.
    The wives came out on the patio to find two happy men, wreathed in smoke, drinks in hand.
    “I want to show Harry and Fair what we’re doing.”
    Blair stood up, kissed Harry on the cheek. “Let me get the plans.” He disappeared inside, then reappeared, unrolling the plans on the wrought-iron-and-glass table.
    “It’s a two-pronged attack.” Little Mim pointed to the south side of the cottage, where one bedroom now existed. “We can use the existing door so we don’t have to tear out stone, and we’ll create a master suite on that end, which will be warmer in winter than building on the north side.” She moved her finger to the west, to the patio on which they now stood. “Here we’ll build a great room and a new patio. No point in missing all those gorgeous sunsets over the Blue Ridge. I mean, I just love Aunt Tally’s view, so this will be our smaller view.”
    “What will you do when Aunt Tally finally goes to her reward? This place will be wonderful,” Harry wondered aloud.
    “We’ll move into Rose Hill, of course, and then we have to decide whether to make this part of a farm manager’s package or to rent it. Always nice to produce a little income.” Little Mim, though rich, respected profit and thought squandering resources sinful.
    This view was shared by her mother except in practice. If Big Mim wanted something, she bought it. Her daughter would search relentlessly for the best bargain and, if she couldn’t find it, would do without.
    “This farm isn’t what it used to be.” Blair slipped his arm around Little Mim’s small waist. “Given her age, Aunt Tally has done yeoman’s labor, but we want fields of corn, better grades of hay, cattle, and you know, Harry, you’ve inspired us to try a small vineyard.”
    “I have?”
    “You certainly have.” Little Mim smiled. “I remember when I was a girl how this place hummed. Tractors running, fences being painted, stone fences being repaired. Fabulous Thoroughbreds playing in the pastures. Aunt Tally bred great horses. Remember?”
    “I do.” Harry nodded, as did Fair. “And Aunt Tally always gave us a Dr Pepper or Co-Cola.”
    “You taught me a lot when I was your neighbor.” Blair smiled warmly at Harry. “Now that Mim and I are married, I don’t want to be on the road anymore. I want to be right here with my beautiful bride. I think with a little luck and a lot of hard work, we can make a bit of money. Neither of us believes in hobby farming.”
    “Good for you.” Fair slapped him on the back. “Besides, with Little Mim’s whole political career in front of her, having you here will help. You see things differently than we do, because you weren’t raised here.”
    “He’s so smart.” Little Mim was besotted with her gorgeous husband.
    “When do you start?”
    “Tomorrow morning. Mark Greenfield’s company has the project. He doesn’t waste money.”
    “No. That’s a wise choice.” Harry liked Greenfield ICF Services. “The trick is to get Tony Long as your county inspector, not Mike McElvoy.”
    Blair exhaled. “That’s a roll of the dice. You should hear Carla Paulson, Folly Steinhauser, Penny Lattimore, or even Elise Brennan on the subject of Mike. Elise, whom I’ve never seen show temper, blew like Mt. Vesuvius on the subject.” Blair shook his head. “Well, we’ll just deal with it when we deal with it. My concern right now is that the stonework matches the original.”
    “That will be tough,” Fair said.
    It would, too, but