By Lydia Adamson
While actress and beginner sleuth Alice Nestleton whips up an anniversary meal for her actor pals, the chuffed couple simply die-of nutrition poisoning. the one witnesses are the couple's little kittens. certainly adorable, yet under no circumstances practicable at the witness stand. because of this Alice is the top suspect. And whereas the actor in Alice may possibly love the highlight, this isn't the type of cognizance she needs... "Slyly captivating." (Publishers Weekly) "Another gem for cat secret fans." (Library magazine)
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Extra resources for A Cat With no Clue (Alice Nestleton Mysteries)
Isn’t it odd that the deaths of Alex and Lila occurred because I had enough money to fund a stupid whim, money that came from a lucrative bit part in a TV cop show pilot? And here I was again, back in another TV cop show. At least it seemed that way. I met with Detectives Greco and Fontana at a donut shop on West 14th Street. I had told them why I wanted to meet with them—to reveal a few interesting facts I’d discovered. But when they showed up, they became a bit aggressive—as if they were in the TV show ‘‘Law and Order,’’ as if I were a suspect who had really called them to cut a deal.
What was going on now, over and beyond the arrogance of males? 33 Lydia Adamson ‘‘Actually,’’ I replied flippantly, ‘‘ I do believe you’re correct. But I wasn’t always so attractive. When I first came to New York I looked like one of those milkfed blond bombshell Miss Americas who end up as Daisy Mae in a production of Li’l Abner. You know the type. ’’ My tweaking of him made him a bit uncomfortable. But he came back strong and a little bit out of character. ‘‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us you’re an actress?
It wasn’t easy to locate the offices of Hannah Prosper. Her firm was on a street just north of the Fulton Fish Market. And there was no sign at all on the warehouse-type building. Once inside, I requested to meet with Hannah 57 Lydia Adamson Prosper on a personal matter. I was grilled without mercy by a trim, middle-aged woman in a black Flax dress. She was, she claimed, Hannah’s executive assistant. Her name was Millie. ’’ ‘‘Quite sure,’’ I lied. ‘‘Mrs. Prosper has no use for psychics and that sort.
A Cat With no Clue (Alice Nestleton Mysteries) by Lydia Adamson