Now that my great-aunt's murder has been solved and her murderer put behind bars, everything is going great in Yesteryear.

I'm still adjusting to running this entire town, but I have a great boyfriend and an adorable cat who is only mildly driving me crazy trying to get me to agree to this wacky idea of his that we could be detectives. But other than that, everything is fine, and the annual Elvisfest is going off without a hitch.

Wait. What's that? The ten-time champion of the fried peanut butter and banana sandwich eating contest just went facedown into a plate piled high with Elvis's favorite fried treat and can't be resuscitated?

It looks like there's another case for me and Elvis Purrsley after all.