It takes a cat to write the purr-fect mystery--."People who love cats...have a friend in Rita Mae Brown," declares The New York Times Book Review. And nowhere is it more obvious than in this, her sixth deliciously witty foray into detective fiction written with the paws-on help of collaborator Sneaky Pie Brown, and starring that irrepressible crime-solving tiger cat, Mrs. Murphy.As the principal of St. Elizabeth's, an exclusive private school that caters to Crozet, Virginia's, best families, Roscoe Fletcher has proven himself to be a highly effective and vastly popular administrator. So when his obituary appears in the local paper, everyone in town is upset. Yet nothing compares to the shock they feel when they discover that Roscoe Fletcher isn't dead at all. Someone has stooped to putting a phony obituary in the newspaper. But is it a sick joke or a sinister warning
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December 31, 1989
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Excerpt from Murder on the Prowl by Rita Mae Brown
"I just spoke to him yesterday." Susan gasped in shock as she read over Harry's shoulder the name Roscoe Harvey Fletcher, forty-five, who died unexpectedly September 22. She'd jumped up to see for herself.
"The paper certainly got it in the obit section quickly." Harry couldn't believe it either.
"Obit section has the latest closing." Susan again read the information to be sure she wasn't hallucinating. "Doesn't say how he died. Oh, that's not good. When they don't say it means suicide or--"
"They never tell you in this paper how people die. I think it's important." Susan snapped the back of the paper.
"'The family requests donations be made to the Roscoe Harvey Fletcher Memorial Fund for scholarships to St. Elizabeth's. . . .' What the hell happened " Harry shot up and grabbed the phone.
She dialed Miranda's number. Busy. She then dialed Dr. Larry Johnson. He knew everything about everybody. Busy. She dialed the Reverend Herbert Jones.
"Rev," she said as he picked up the phone, "it's Mary Minor."
"I know your voice."
"How did Roscoe die "
"I don't know." His voice lowered. "I was on my way over there to see what I could do. Nobody knows anything. I've spoken to Mim and Miranda. I even called Sheriff Shaw to see if there had been a late-night accident. Everyone is in the dark, and there's no funeral information. Naomi hasn't had time to select a funeral home. She's probably in shock."
"She'll use Hill and Wood."
"Yes, I would think so, but, well--" His voice trailed off a moment, then he turned up the volume. "He wasn't sick. I reached Larry. Clean bill of health, so this has to be an accident of some kind. Let me get over there to help. I'll talk to you later."