New York Times  bestselling author Jenn McKinlay's beloved Hat Shop duo Scarlett Parker and Vivian Tremont return to don their sleuthing caps and solve a murder that's death in show. London's most refined canines and their humans are gearing up for the Pets and Wellness Society's annual dog show--and Betty Wentworth, favorite aunt to Scarlett's fiancé Harrison and proud owner of corgi front-runner Freddy, knows that this could be their year with the right edge. Never one to turn away a corgi in need, Scarlett convinces her milliner cousin, Vivian, to design matching hats for dream team Betty and Freddy as they compete for Best in Show. It's a tail wagging good time until the dog-food sponsor of the event is found dead and Betty is the prime suspect. Vivian and Scarlett agree to enter the competition in Betty's place and help Harrison catch the real killer before Betty is collared for a crime she didn't commit. “Fancy hats and British aristocrats make this my sort of delicious cozy read.” —Rhys Bowen ,  New York Times  bestselling author of the Royal Spyness Mysteries, on the Hat Shop Mysteries   “A delicious romp through my favorite part of London with a delightful new heroine.” —Deborah Crombie ,  New York Times  bestselling author, on the Hat Shop Mysteries   “The sharp writing and smart plotting are outstanding, and the surprising reveal and even more suspenseful chase will have readers at the edge of their seats. This stellar mystery sets a high bar for mysteries.” — Kings River Life Magazine , on the Hat Shop Mysteries   “Brimming with McKinlay’s trademark wit and snappy one-liners, Anglophiles will love this thoroughly entertaining new murder mystery series. A hat trick of love, laughter, and suspense, and another feather in [Jenn McKinlay’s] cap.” —Hannah Dennison , author of the Vicky Hill Exclusive! Mysteries, on the Hat Shop Mysteries A true Anglophile,  New York Times  bestselling author  Jenn McKinlay  loves all things British. In her idea of a perfect world, every day would include high tea or wearing a fabulous hat, or both. This adoration of all things U.K. inspired her to write the Hat Shop Mysteries, which are set in London, one of her most favorite cities in the world. She now gets to visit there regularly--for research purposes, of course. In addition to being the author of the Hat Shop Mysteries, Jenn also writes the Cupcake Bakery Mysteries, the Library Lover's Mysteries, the Bluff Point Romances, and the Happily Ever After Romances. Chapter 1 If I held my left hand just so, I could see the diamonds catch and scatter the light, even the dreary February light in London, into a million tiny rainbows. I, Scarlett Parker, was engaged to be married. Harry, excuse me, my fiancé, Harrison Wentworth, proposed to me a few months ago when we were visiting my parents in Connecticut, and I don't think my feet have touched terra firma ever since. And it's not just because of my spectacular ring, although this cushion cut Harry Winston did add a little something to the proposal, but rather because after dating all the wrong men, I finally found my Mr. Right. I held my hand over my heart and sighed. "She's doing it again," Fee said. She was standing behind the counter in the middle of the hat shop. "It's like a trance," Viv said. "Or perhaps a fit. It'll pass." I turned away from the front window, where I'd been arranging a new display of spring hats before I got distracted by my ring, and glanced at my cousin, Vivian Tremont, and her assistant, Fiona (Fee) Felton. They were both looking at me as if they were convinced I'd lost my mind. Viv's blue eyes, the only feature we shared, were narrowed and her lips pursed. Her long blond curls were piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she was dressed for warmth in a long pale green tunic sweater over charcoal tights and black boots. If I didn't love her so much, I'd loathe her for being so fairy-tale-princess pretty, but I did love her. She was the closest thing I had to a sister and when my life had imploded a few years ago, she was the one who sent for me, insisting I take my place as her partner in the hat shop that our grandmother Mim had bequeathed to us. Fee, Viv's assistant, had her head tipped to the side. Her chin-length corkscrew curls, highlighted with vibrant streaks of purple, bounced as she nodded in agreement with Viv's assessment. A beautiful woman, Fee was tall and lithe, with dark eyes and skin, and cheekbones you could slice cucumbers on. She'd been Viv's millinery apprentice while in fashion school but had become a full-time employee once she graduated. It was a good thing I adored her, too, because honestly, hanging out with these two knockouts could damage even the most well-adjusted girl's self-esteem. Despite a rocky start, I'd been in London for almost three years, and I couldn't imagine spending my days anywhere but our quaint little hat shop, Mim's Whims, on Portobello Road in Notting Hill