CELTICLADY'S REVIEWS: A Side Dish of Death (Urban Tails Pet Shop Mysteries) by T. C. LoTempio Book Tour!

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About A Side Dish of Death

A Side Dish of Death (Urban Tails Pet Shop Mysteries)

Cozy Mystery

5th in Series

Setting

Connecticut

Publisher ‏

‎ Beyond the Page Publishing

(February 25, 2025)

Print length ‏

‎ 257 pages

Digital ASIN ‏

‎ B0DW4JDTH5

When a celebrity chef is murdered, Shell McMillan has to cook up a plan to trap the killer of a man for all seasonings . . .

With adopt-a-cat month in full swing in Fox Hollow, pet shop owner Shell McMillan decides that hosting a night of murder mystery dinner theater will be a fun way to raise funds for the cause. But she didn’t realize that the celebrity chef she’d hired for the event would turn out to be a tyrannical snob, or that her scoundrel of an ex-fiancé would turn up with his own shady agenda. Still, the show must go on, and as the lighthearted plot on-stage unfolds, the scene off-stage turns decidedly darker when the chef is found murdered.

Rather than question an entire roomful of possible suspects, Shell determines that looking into the victim’s past will lead her to the culprit more quickly. What she finds is that the chef had left behind a disreputable past and a trail of disgruntled people, including a long string of women he’d wronged and a host of others who may have been out for revenge. But as Shell closes in on the killer, the killer is closing in on her. And she’s discovering that while too many cooks can spoil the broth, being a murderer’s next target can really ruin your appetite . . .

About Toni Lotempio

A person holding a cat

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While Toni Lotempio does not commit – or solve – murders in real life, she has no trouble doing it on paper. Her lifelong love of mysteries began early on when she was introduced to her first Nancy Drew mystery at age 10 – The Secret in the Old Attic.

She and her cat pen the Nick and Nora mystery series originally from Berkley Prime Crime and now with Beyond the Page Publishing. They also write the Urban Tails Pet Shop Mysteries and the Tiffany Austin Food Blogger Mysteries, also available from Beyond the Page. A new series, Cozy Bookshop Mysteries, debuts from Severn House in July.

When I opened the door to the coat check room just behind the dining area, I let out a little cry. The girls had done a marvelous job transforming the area into a miniature shelter. The cages for the twelve cats and kittens we’d transported here tonight were lined up against the wall, and they’d cordoned off a small area just in case a potential parent might want to play a bit with a potential adoptee. There were catnip toys, a jungle gym for cats, and a long tunnel setup in the designated play area, along with a wide table and three chairs in the other corner for potential parents to fill out the required shelter forms. A shorter table to the left of the entrance had the programs we’d had made up with photos of the cats up for adoption, both here and at the shelter. Another sheeted table had pitchers of water and soda on them, and a large platter of cookies as well. Roz Tidwell was just reaching for a cookie when we walked in. “Hey, Ms. McMillan nice to see you.”

“Hello Roz. This is my mother, Clarissa McMillan. You and Sissy have done a fabulous job back here.”

Sissy was bent over one of the cages, playing with a beautiful, all black cat. As we approached the cat sat back on her haunches and narrowed her wide eyes, apparently displeased at having her play time interrupted. She let out a soft growl as we approached. “Hey, Dahlia, none of that when a potential owner approaches your cage,” Sissy admonished the cat. The cat’s response was another growl, and then she turned around twice and flopped over on her side, her back to us. Sissy wiggled her fingers at the cat. “Don’t mind Dahlia. She’s just annoyed because she can’t wander around here like she does at the shelter. She’s become quite adept at unlocking her cage—but she won’t do any of that tonight,” Sissy added quickly. She looked at the cat, who was hunched in the far corner of the cage. “You’re a spoiled girl, but best behavior tonight. You want to get adopted, right?” She glanced back at me and her eyes widened. “Shell, did you get another cat?”

I looked down and saw Serendipity making her way tentatively toward Dahlia’s cage. She poked her nose through the bars and meowed softly. Dahlia’s head swiveled. She saw the cat, and she bared her fangs and let out a sharp hiss. Serendipity immediately moved away from the cage and ambled off toward Purrday, which elicited a sharp meow from Princess Fuzzypants.

“Smart cat,” I observed. “She knows when to quit. And she’s not mine. This is Serendipity. She belongs to the social media expert, Charisma Walters.”

“Oh right, now I recognize her from the photo’s on Charisma’s blog,” said Sissy. “She did say in her post today that she and Serendipity were attending the fundraiser tonight. Do you know she got over forty thousand responses for donations to the shelter?”

“She did mention she’d hoped to get at least fifty thousand,” I responded. “She came close.”

“Hey, she’s not done. Donations are open through tomorrow. She could well pass fifty,” said Sissy. She gave me a hopeful look. “Do you think she’ll come back here? We’d love to meet her in person.”

“I’m sure she will. And I bet she puts photos on her blog, too, of the great job you two did. I do feel bad, though, that you’re going to miss the event by volunteering to stay in here.”

“Oh don’t worry about us,” said Roz. She reached under the table and pulled out a familiar box. “We brought Clue so we can have our own murder mystery party here.”

“So what happens now,” asked my mother. “Do your cats and Charisma’s stay here?”

“No, they’ll go back into the reception area and greet the people as they arrive. Hopefully they’ll lead some back here to look at the animals and maybe adopt one or two.” I looked at the two teens. “When the skit starts, though, I’ll need you girls to make sure the cats all stay in here.”

“That’s right,” my mother agreed. “We don’t need any cats prancing into the dining room just as our murder is being committed—although I imagine Shell’s cats are used to that sort of thing.” She looked down her nose and added, “Purrday in particular.”

Purrday raised his head. “Merow.”

“No problem,” Sissy said. “Roz and I won’t let them out of our sight, but we know they’ll be good, right guys?”

Four pair of feline eyes blinked simultaneously.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be back to get them once the guests start arriving.”

Mother and I returned to the lobby where we found Marianne and Charisma chatting. Each held a drink in their hand. “We still have a little time before the festivities begin,” said my mother. “I think I’ll get a drink too. This storm isn’t doing my nerves any good.”

Garrett took her arm. “One would never know you’re nervous, my dear. I imagine we can attribute that to your fine ability as an actress. It takes a lot of talent to maintain such a cool exterior.”

My mother batted her eyelashes. “Why thank you, Garrett,” she purred. “It’s nice to know someone appreciates my artistic abilities.”

She linked her arm through Garrett’s and the two of them started for the bar. I decided this might be a good time to try and track down Louise. Midway down the hall I caught a glimpse of none other than Chef Reynaldo Venery. He was wearing a white apron over what appeared to be an expensive looking suit, his white chef’s cap perched on his head. He was talking on his iPhone, and appeared to be pretty calm, so I guessed he still hadn’t heard about his knife. I saw a door off to my left and without any hesitation, tried the knob. The door opened and I saw that it was a utility closet. I squeezed myself in between the wall and the vacuum cleaner and closed the door, leaving it open just enough for me to peer out.

Venery was very close to my hiding place now, and to my consternation he stopped dead right in front of it. “I told you, I want nothing to do with that situation,” he barked into the phone. “How many ways can I say this? Now please do not bother me about this again.”

He shoved the phone into his pocket with an oath and started to turn in the direction of the kitchen when suddenly a familiar voice called out, “Venery! Wait!”

I held my breath as the speaker came into view. Patrick! He marched right up to the shorter man and waved his finger under his nose. “Don’t walk away from me, Venery. I’m not finished talking to you.”

Venery turned his glittering stare on Patrick. “As I told you before, we have nothing to talk about. I’m considering another show, one that appears to be a much better fit for me.”

“It’s Taylor’s show, isn’t it?” Patrick spat. “How did she convince you to pick her? Does she have something on you?”

Venery’s facial expression didn’t change one iota. “What makes you say a thing like that?”

“Because it’s always been my experience that men like you always have something to hide. And if you do, Venery, I swear I’ll find it out. I’ll ruin you just like you’re going to ruin me.”

Something flickered in Venery’s eyes: anger? Fear? It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and he pulled down hard on the lapels of his jacket. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hanratty. There’s nothing for you to find. No one forced me to do anything. You have no one to blame for this but yourself.”

Patrick’s face purpled. He leaned in closer to Venery. “Do you know, right now…I could kill you.”

“Yeah, well, get in line. There are a lot of people ahead of you for that particular honor.” Venery sneered. “Excuse me, I have a dinner to supervise.”

Venery stalked off. Patrick scrubbed his hands over his face, then walked off in the same direction. I waited a few moments more for good measure, then emerged from the utility closet. I had to admit Patrick’s outburst upset me. I’d never known him to lose his cool like that before. I glanced at my watch again and sighed. No time to hunt down Louise now. Maybe I’d get a chance later. I started to head back to the dining room when Marianne suddenly materialized out of nowhere. “Oh, Shell. It’s a disaster!” She waved her arm in a circle and started to talk very fast. “We might as well start packing up everything now. I just got a call from Milton Knapf, the manager of Foxglove Entertainment. He just got off the phone with the State Police. It seems the bus carrying our actors was involved in a terrible accident. They’re not coming. Face it. Our event is ruined.”

Catch up with them at ROCCO’s blog

www.catsbooksmorecats.blogspot.com,

Website

www.tclotempio.net

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