Sarah Grayson and her trusty companion, Elvis, race to tail the right suspects in the fifth installment of the New York Times bestselling Second Chance Cat Mysteries. Sarah Grayson owns Second Chance, a shop that sells lovingly refurbished items, in the charming town of North Harbor, Maine. But she couldn't run the store without the help of her right-hand man, Mac--or her dashing rescue cat, Elvis. Mac's life before North Harbor has always been a little bit mysterious, but it becomes a lot more intriguing when a woman from his past shows up in town, and then turns up dead. Suspicion falls on Mac, but Sarah--and Elvis--know he can't be the killer, and they hope they can prove his innocence quick as a whisker. Praise for the New York Times Bestselling Second Chance Cat Mysteries “A surefire winner.”— New York Times bestselling author Miranda James “A series sure to appeal to anyone who loves a combination of felonies and felines.”— Richmond Times-Dispatch “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 “Enjoyable from beginning to end; readers will look forward to more.”—RT Book Reviews “If you enjoy a cozy mystery featuring a lovable protagonist with a bevy of staunch friends, a shop you’d love to explore, plenty of suspects, and a super smart cat, you’ll love The Whole Cat and Caboodle .”—MyShelf.com “Enjoyable...Remember, everyone has a secret, even the cat.”—Kings River Life Magazine 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 I set the sandwich on top of the dresser. I could tell right away that Elvis was not sold on my idea of supper. He gave the blue bubble glass plate a suspicious look and his eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. He was exceedingly polite, for the most part. Not to mention he was a cat. "What? You don't like it?" I asked. "It's peanut butter, dill pickle and bacon." His whiskers twitched at the last word. In Elvis's world everything went better with bacon, except maybe peanut butter and dill pickles. I picked up half the sandwich and took a bite. "It's good. I swear," I mumbled around a mouthful of creamy, salty, crispy goodness. Elvis may have been polite, but he wasn't a stickler with respect to table manners. "You know, this isn't that different from the real Elvis's favorite sandwich," I told him. "Peanut butter, banana and bacon." The cat made a huffy sound through his nose at me. As far as he was concerned he was the "real" Elvis, a sleek black cat with a rakish scar across his nose. I reached over and stroked his fur. The top of his head was warm from the early-evening August sun. He closed his green eyes and began to purr. I set my food down and reached for the mug that held my coffee. It was one of twelve I'd bought when a diner up in Belfast had closed and auctioned off its contents back in the spring. The mugs had replaced the mismatched yard sale collection we'd had in the staff room. I'd also bought a mint green Hamilton Beach milk shake maker and a box of 45s from the diner's jukebox to sell in the shop. My shop, Second Chance, was a repurpose store, offering everything from furniture to housewares to musical instruments-most of it from the '50s through the '70s. It was part secondhand shop, part thrift store. Some items even got new lives, like the tub chair that in its previous incarnation had actually been a bathtub, or the china cups and saucers that were now tiny planters. The store was located in an eighteen hundreds redbrick house, just where Mill Street began to climb uphill, in the town of North Harbor, Maine. We were on the edge of the downtown, about a fifteen-minute walk from the harbor front and close to a highway off-ramp, which made it easy for tour buses to find us. Elvis and I had stayed late to work on my latest project: turning a small metal table with a glass top and a glass shelf into a bar cart. I'd brought the sandwich makings with me for supper, along with a bit of dry cat food for Elvis so we didn't have to go home and come back again. Second Chance had been busy all day. We'd been open for more than a year now and I was tickled to see that some of the same tourists who had discovered us just a few months after we'd opened were coming back again. I was happy the repurpose shop was still busy as summer began to wind down, and I was hoping that would continue into the fall, but so many customers meant that I didn't get a lot of time to work on new items to add to our dwindling inventory. Right now we were replenishing our stock with things we were selling on consignment for Clayton McNamara. Clayton had lived in North Harbor all his life. In fact he'd been romantically involved with my grandmother-when they were bot