Double Booked For Death

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Thanks to all the great folks at Tekno Books and Berkley Prime Crime for their support. It is appreciated. Special thanks to my good friend Denise Little and her long-departed but never forgotten black cat, Hamlet. They were the inspiration for my Darla and her Hamlet. As always, thanks to my darling husband, Gerry, who prods me along. And, finally, a fond flick of the whiskers to all my kitties I’ve loved over the years, starting with Topsey, and continuing with my current orange tabby boys, Butch and Sundance, both of whom kept a close eye on this story as I wrote it. They will tell you that any errors in fact or cat etiquette are mine alone.

ONE

AFTERNOON SUN SPILLED THROUGH THE MOTTLED GLASS of the double front doors leading into Pettistone’s Fine Books, the golden light stippling the dark figure sprawled upon the faded Oriental rug that served as a welcome mat. Those customers who’d entered the first-floor brownstone shop within the past half hour had taken the sight of the motionless form in stride—this was Brooklyn, after all—and casually stepped over it to head in the direction of the bestseller table. Finally, however, a cardigan-swathed octogenarian halted in the doorway. His expression was one of vexation as he stared down at the body blocking his path.

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