I’m hungry as a church mouse, Hope. Do you have anything to eat?

Hope looked down at His Whiskery Lordship swishing his black tail back and forth at her. He’d tucked a blue paper napkin into his collar. “When did you wake up?” she asked.

Nozy Cat lifted one sleepy eyelid, and his marble blue eye glared at her for interrupting his sacred nap. He wore a yellow collar with little red stars printed on it. His second eyelid also opened, and he gave them his irritated blue-eyed glare.

Hope turned sly. “What if the slice of apple pie is served a la mode?”

Smiling, Peggy Sue regarded her tall, brunette, and blue-eyed friend. “Is the slice of apple pie served a la mode with three scoops of homemade vanilla ice cream piled on top of it?

She craved a tall glass of the fresh-squeezed lemonade from the pitcher she’d left chilling in the fridge. Two glasses served with a generous slice of pound cake with orange glaze icing sounded twice as nice.

Within the same hour as the murder took place, Isabel Trumbo sat in her armchair dozing, the Alaskan Outdoor magazine on her lap. Her kid sister Alma fidgeted in the other armchair, from time to time picking up her newspaper folded over to the day’s crossword puzzle.

Quote is taken from Chapter 1:

Since Etta could log in her rare Baltimore oriole sighting, she decided she’d had enough birding for one day. It was just a fun hobby, not an obsession.