Page 9 of Fish and Chip

Ah. So we’re letting Delora keep the park. She can have it for a dollar. That’s the going rate.

Belladonna’s smile falters in Delora’s direction. “Oh! I thought you were the only owner.”

“It’s a common mistake,” I say sweetly, trying my best not to give Delora the side-eye. I fail spectacularly. “We take turns,” I tease. “Delora has it on weekends.”

A fairy and a Southern belle vampire trot this way, and I believe it’s two of the cozy mystery authors we were just introduced to, Felicity Graves and Eulla Bell Nightwind.

“Belladonna,” Eulla Bell says, her Southern accent thick as molasses. “That was quite the introduction. You’ve got more nerve than a cat in a dog pound, sugar.”

I’ve been in a dog pound, Fish says from the safety of Dexter’s arms. It’s called living with Chip.

Hey! Chip protests. I’m not a D-O-G! And I’m delightful company!

You’re a walking health hazard with a theft and shedding problem.

Sharing is caring, Fish.

Ironically, Fish really does live with a dog, a red-and-white freckled mutt named Sherlock Bones, so she’d know a thing or two about pound life.

Belladonna laughs it off. “Oh, Eulla Bell, get ahold of yourself and your Southern country-fried charm. It’s just a little fun. That’s what this entire week is about.” She spears Eulla Bell with a look despite her tight smile, and I know a threat when I see one. I’ve issued a few myself, mostly regarding line cutters and people who have negative things to say about the churros.

Felicity gives a small wave our way, looking every bit the sweet fairy she’s dressed as. “Nice to meet you all. I can’t wait to explore this wonderful park and get to know you throughout the week.”

“And we can’t wait to get to know all of you as well,” I say, gracious as can be, seeing as I’m the park owner. The real one. “So long as there aren’t any real murders taking place on the property,” I tease, and everyone gives a soft chuckle.

Belladonna nods toward her cohorts. “Well, if anyone can plot the perfect murder, it’s these witches.”

“Only because we saw where you put the bodies.” Eulla Bell doesn’t miss a Southern beat.

Ree melts on the spot. “Oh, I just love your accent!”

“And your cool vampire cat!” Georgie adds, reaching out to give Salem a quick scratch behind her ears. “The more cats the merrier around here. We’ve got a dozen-mice-per-cat capacity.”

I sigh at the fact, and at the fact Georgie saw fit to advertise it to a crowd of paying customers. Unlike some other amusement park owners, I don’t care to highlight any mice around here.

The sweet black cat takes us all in with those glowing yellow eyes.

Well, look what the hoomans dragged in, Salem mewls, elegant, bored, and decidedly Southern. Two house cats and a crowd of amateurs. Mama always said never trust a venue where the mice outrank the talent.

She’s so sophisticated. Chip looks wonderstruck by the feisty furry girl in our midst.

Don’t even think about it, Fish warns.

Think about what? Chippy can’t seem to take his eyes off the feline with fangs.

You know what, Fish grouses. You’ve got that goofy look in your eye!

I’m just saying she’s nice! Chip mewls in a huff.

He’s in love with a D-O-G named Cupcake, Fish meows to Salem, and poor Salem’s fur stands on end because of it.

Salem gasps, her yellow eyes going wide. A canine? How purr-fectly scandalous!

“Would you look at that?” Eulla Bell marvels. “It’s like she senses evil.” She doesn’t miss the opportunity to glare at Belladonna, and I’m getting the feeling the consensus is that she’s the evil among us.

I can admire multiple creatures! Chip lifts his nose indignantly.

Dexter shakes his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say these cats were having a conversation of their own.”