Sarah Grayson and her feline ally, Elvis, get a chance to see if their sleuthing skills are up to scratch in the sixth installment of the New York Times bestselling Second Chance Cat Mysteries. It's fall in North Harbor, Maine, where Sarah owns a charming secondhand shop and sells lovingly refurbished items of all kinds. The shop is always bustling--and not just because a quirky team of senior-citizen detectives works out of it and manages to get in even more trouble than Sarah's rough-and-tumble rescue cat, Elvis. A cold case heats up when young Mallory Pearson appears at the shop. Mallory's father is in prison for negligence after her stepmother's mysterious death, but Mallory believes he is innocent and asks the in-house detectives to take on the case. With Sarah and Elvis lending a paw, the detectives decide to try to give Mallory's father a second chance of his own. Praise for the New York Times Bestselling Second Chance Cat Mysteries "A surefire winner."-- New York Times bestselling author Miranda James "Sure to appeal to anyone who loves a combination of felonies and felines."-- Richmond Times-Dispatch "Ryan kicks off the new Second Chance Cat Mystery series with a lot of excitement. Her small Maine town is filled with unique characters. . . . This tale is enjoyable from beginning to end; readers will look forward to more."-- RT Book Reviews “Cleverly planned and flawlessly executed…Full of humor, cat antics, intrigue and suspense…The best of both worlds for those who love cats and cozy mysteries.”—Open Book Society  “Excellently written, and as always, I am eager to return to my friends in this series.”—Bibliophile Sofie Ryan is the author of the New York Times bestselling Second Chance Cat Mysteries. She also writes the New York Times bestselling Magical Cats Mystery series under the name Sofie Kelly. Chapter 1   The first thing I saw when I made it to the back wall of the storage unit was Elvis, sitting on top of a wooden casket. He looked at me, cocking his head to one side, and his expression seemed to say, Look what I found!   "Good grief, what's that doing in here?" I said.   He didn't answer. Not that I expected him to, seeing as he was a small, black cat and not the swivel-hipped King of Rock and Roll.   I reached up and ran my hand over the smooth surface of the long wooden box. When I'd bought the contents of the storage space-and a second one three doors down-I'd given things a cursory check, just enough to feel comfortable about making an offer. The fact that the owner of the building had taken that offer without haggling had made me wish I'd offered a little less. At the time, I hadn't spotted the coffin-that's definitely what it was-sitting on several wooden packing crates by the end wall.   "Hey, Sarah, you all right?" my brother Liam called. He'd come along as muscle to help me load my SUV and the trailer it was pulling. He'd been in town for several days, consulting on the harbor front development project.   "I'm fine," I said, raising my voice a little so he could hear me. "You won't believe what Elvis found."   "Let me guess. The real Elvis in one of those white jumpsuits?"   The cat Elvis, who as far as he was concerned was the real Elvis, wrinkled his nose as though he'd understood Liam's words.   "Ha-ha. Very funny," I said. "No, he found a coffin." I looked around for Charlotte but couldn't see her. Charlotte Elliot worked for me part-time. She was also one of my grandmother's closest friends, which was how she'd ended up with a job at my shop.   "Ha-ha. Very funny back at you," Liam retorted. I could hear him moving boxes and furniture out of the way as he made his way to me.   "I'm not joking. It has to be at least six feet long. I think someone made it."   "It's probably just some big wooden box." He gave a grunt of effort and I saw a stack of boxes behind me shift sideways.   "There's a cross carved on the top and there are four handles on the side. It's a casket."   Liam poked his head above a six-foot-long metal toboggan that was blocking his way and grinned at me. He was a shade over six feet himself, with blond hair and blue-gray eyes. "You better hope the person who rented this space wasn't trying to save money in other ways besides not paying for the last six months." He craned his neck and studied the wooden box. "Assuming that's not the person who rented the space in the first place."   There was an orange foam football sitting on an upside-down wooden chair that looked like it had been wrapped in zebra-print duct tape. I threw the football at his head. It bounced off his left shoulder and landed near his feet.   "Your elbow's too high," he said. "Your arm should be making a right angle."   I stuck out my tongue at him.   Elvis's curiosity seemed to be getting the better of him. He scratched at the edge of the wooden box then looked at me.   "You're right," I said. "We should take a look inside, but you'll have to move." I picked him up and pu