Felines and Fatalities (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 6)

by Addison Moore

  Chapter 12

  The plan tonight was dinner at the café while sitting out on the patio that overlooks the cove.

  The reality is a herd of protesters out in front of the inn, thirty seniors deep, with both Georgie and Carlotta standing on the fountain outside with bullhorns as they lead the charge—chanting seniors matter, seniors matter!

  “There must be a hundred people here,” I shout to Lottie as we speed our way to the front of the mob.

  Adding an air of authenticity to their meaningful chant, each person here has more salt than pepper in their collective locks. And those signs they’re brandishing?

  Evie bursts out with laughter. “Look at that!” She points to a hot pink banner that reads generic angry sign.

  “The others are no better,” I say.

  I’m too old to care!

  We want Christmas year-round!

  I hate people!

  This is one ticked-off grandma!

  This sign is heavy!

  I was told there would be free coffee!

  My first protest!

  I love baby seals!

  I don’t know why we’re angry!

  I’m actually pretty happy!

  “Oh Lord,” I moan as Lottie and I muscle our way through the crowd and the gray sea slowly parts for us. “Georgie!” I shout, trying to get her attention.

  Of course, Lottie goes for the more direct approach.

  She yanks Carlotta off the fountain by way of a violent tug to her angry red kaftan.

  “What the heck is going on?” Lottie shrills.

  “Don’t worry, Lot. Georgie and I did you girls a favor.”

  “Did you call the news?” I ask. “Because I don’t think the inn has had enough bad press this month.”

  Carlotta snaps her fingers and pulls out her phone. “I knew we forgot something.”

  “Stop.” Lottie covers the screen with her hand. “She was being sarcastic. Now speak quickly. What’s happening here? None of this makes sense.”

  “It was all Georgie’s idea.” Carlotta waves her hands at the madness.

  “Not a shocker.” I shoot the gray-haired, kaftan-loving, one-woman riot a look.

  Carlotta nods. “We invited everyone who was at the bake-off back to demand a do-over.”

  Mayor Mackenzie Woods jumps in front of us as if the crowd just vomited her out. Her dark hair looks windblown, and she’s staggering on a pair of sky-high stilettos.

  “What’s happening, Bizzy?” she snips. “I was in the middle of a hot date with Leo. This had better be good.”

  “With Leo?” I ask, amused. “I thought the two of you were on the outs.” A few months back Emmie latched onto him and they started an on-again, off-again affair of their own.

  She glowers over at me. “Well, tonight we were on the ins. Speaking of inns, what’s the ruckus about?”

  Georgie hops down and lands the bullhorn over the side of Mack’s head. “We want our bake-off, missy.”

  Mackenzie slaps her hands over her ears.

  “Fine,” she shouts. “If the senior center is finally willing to host it, we can do it this Saturday.”

  The crowd breaks out into cheers and Mackenzie does a disappearing act.

  Emmie runs over with two platters brimming with yummy goodness.

  “Free maple pecan shortbread and chewy maple white chocolate chunk cookies!” She looks to Lottie. “I may have borrowed your recipe.”

  Soon the crowd is in another uproar entirely as a hundred seniors engage in what looks like a zombie walk as they congregate around Emmie and her fresh baked cookies.

  “Good thinking, Em!” I shout over the moans of delight. Sometimes, the only way to get a crowd to settle down is with a fresh baked treat.

  Lottie pulls me close. “Oh my God, both Hailey and Anna are here.”

  “What?” I turn to look into the crowd as Georgie leans my way.

  “That’s right, Biz.” Georgie wrings her hands with delight. “We had to come up with something to get the suspects back to the scene of the crime. We called everyone on the list.”

  “On what list?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

  “The one the sheriff’s department took the day of the bake-off.”

  “Georgie, that was private information. How did you get it? Did Jasper give it to you?” I highly doubt it.

  Her orange lips twist side to side. “I may have told that hot-to-trot secretary of his I’d help her score a date with the big guy.”

  “You gave Jasper away to Camila?” My voice hikes to the sky, and my blood pressure does, too.

  Lottie leans in. “Camila Camila?”

  I nod. “Yup. His horrible ex.”

  Carlotta swats Lottie. “Never mind how we got here. Two suspects at six o’clock. Sorry we couldn’t get ’em all to come. It was awfully short notice. Sometimes genius operates that way.”

  “So do some felonies,” I say with a dead look in my eyes.

  “Come on.” Lottie pulls me through the crowd. “Ooh, I see a spray of bright pink stars. That means one of our friendly ghosts is nearby.” She grunts. “Never mind. It was Stella and she just blinked in and out. She still looks pretty sick from raiding Melina’s bakery.”

  “I didn’t think the dead could overeat.”

  “Neither did I. There’s something not to look forward to once we hit the other side.”

  Anna heads left and Hailey heads right and we veer toward Hailey since she hasn’t gotten lost in a sea of bodies just yet.

  “Hey! Nice to see you again,” I say as we come upon her. “Make sure you get a cookie.”

  “Or two!” Lottie’s voice matches my cheery tone.

  Georgie and Carlotta pop out of the crowd with their bullhorns, and judging by those looks on their determined faces, there’s no stopping what happens next.

  “We did it, sister!” Georgie holds up a hand and Hailey high-fives her—with her left hand. Maybe she’s left-handed? Her other hand clutches tight to her purse—most likely a wise move around these surprisingly aggressive parts.

  “Freedom for seniors!” Carlotta knocks her hip into Hailey’s.

  Thankfully, Hailey laughs and doesn’t threaten to sue.

  “I’m all for senior rights,” she says. “Good job, girls. You’ll have to come back to Pirate’s Cove. The cast really misses you.”

  She surveys the crowd. And where did Anna go? No wonder Trevor left her. He probably lost her in a crowd.

  “Are you here with Anna?” I say, glancing in the direction she took off in.

  “It depends.” She says it in a mocking tone. “Should I be cavorting with a presumed killer?”

  Carlotta sucks in a breath. “You think she did it?”

  Hailey shrugs. “Everyone thinks she did it. That’s not a fun position to be in. As soon as we heard about the protest, we thought it might be good to come back—for closure. She said she needed a minute. She wanted to pay Trevor a quick tribute of sorts. I suppose old feelings die hard. It’s not healthy dragging around all that rage.”

  Georgie waves her off. “Let’s get real. Sometimes rage is the best medicine.”

  “Or a silent killer,” Hailey counters. She looks my way. “Do you know if the sheriff’s department ever looked into Melina?”

  I shake my head. “I wouldn’t know. But she sure had a lot to be angry about.”

  Hailey nods. “It seems Trevor made sure every woman he came across was angry.”

  Georgie steps in. “Wait a minute. Maybe the killer was after the wife all along? Don’t forget. We ended up with two dead bodies.”

  Hailey nods. “That’s true. I don’t know much about her. Well, other than the fact she swiped Trevor from Anna.” She gives a hard blink. “You really do lose them the way you got them.”

  Carlotta squints over at her. “I think you have it backwards. Celine didn’t lose him.”

  Hailey thinks about it. “Shoot, you’re right. It had a nice ring to it anyway. Excuse me, I’d better snatch
up a cookie before they’re all gone.”

  She takes off and Georgie snaps her fingers and does an odd little dance.

  “You’re welcome,” she sings. “Bring on the suspects, girl.” She claps her hands and I yank one of her arms down.

  “Georgie, we can’t dance a jig and shout the word suspects in a crowd of people who were all present the day of the first murder. The killer already knows I’m after them.”

  Carlotta snatches Lottie close to her. “It’s best we leave, Lot Lot. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

  I spot Jasper, Noah, and Everett headed this way, each with a touch of sun on their faces, and coincidentally each of their faces looks a touch angry as well.

  “You said it, Carlotta,” I say without taking my eyes off them.

  A sharp bark comes from deep within the crowd, and soon enough Sherlock bounds over.

  Bizzy! The exuberant pup bounds back and forth with agitation. You’d better come quick. There’s another one of those notes on your door.

  I look to Lottie in a panic. “There’s another note on my door.”

  We barrel past the crowd. I spot Anna walking our way, and she just so happens to be coming from the direction of my cottage.

  “Anna?” My voice hikes.

  Easy, Bizzy. Lottie scolds. We don’t want to spook her.

  Anna juts her chin out. There’s a general cold feel about her as her eyes meet with mine.

  “Well, if it isn’t the wrestling duo.” She glances behind us. “And the rest of your wrestling clan is coming up quick. Warning to you, girls. Those men look angry. I’ve dealt with an angry man or two in my life.” She gives a wink my way. “It wasn’t pretty. Hold your ground, girls.” She slips by us and Sherlock barks up a storm as he takes off ahead of us for my cottage.

  The thick scent of Jasper’s cologne engulfs me before he indulges me with his warm embrace.

  “Bizzy”—he dots a kiss to my cheek—“what’s going on?”

  “Georgie bribed Camila into giving her a list of everyone who was at the bake-off.” I take a moment to frown at him. “I think we’re about to have a do-over at the senior center.”

  He blinks back. “Georgie bribed Camila?”

  Lottie leans in. “You’re not dating Camila, are you?”

  Jasper looks petrified by the thought. “No,” he flatlines. “But that explains the theater tickets for two on my desk this afternoon. They’re in her name.”

  Lottie looks momentarily confused. “Exactly how did your ex think this bribe was going to work?”

  Jasper sighs. “Easy. Camila doesn’t deal in logic.”

  Lottie nods. “Sounds like a couple of people I know.” She sandwiches herself between Noah and Everett as if to prove her point.

  “Lemon”—Everett lowers his chin a notch—“Evie says you took a tour of the Harrisons’ factory this afternoon.”

  Lottie opens her mouth and looks my way. Help?

  “Macy has a crush on some guy who works there,” I offer. “Macy attacked him with her mouth as soon as we got there. It got ugly.”

  Lottie bites down over her lip. “But I got a mold out of it. And as soon as I get the chance, I’ll bake a cake and break it in.”

  “Lottie.” Noah rubs his eyes. “You were questioning Julian Morgan, weren’t you?”

  “Only a little.” She shrinks when she says it. “Right after we questioned Melina Cabot.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “Sorry, Bizzy!” She winces my way. “I don’t have it in me to keep a single thing from these men.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, batting my lashes at Jasper. “It’s getting dark. Let’s get to that note before it disappears with the wind.”

  We speed on over and both Jasper and Noah step up to my porch with flashlights.

  I follow close behind and gasp when I see it.

  “Two notes,” the words sting from my lips.

  The first powder blue note is smeared with what looks like blood. It reads What do Henry the VIII and Trevor Harrison have in common? They were both gluttons to the very end.

  The second note sits just below that, both adhered with what feels like double sticky tape.

  What has four arms, four legs, four eyes, and two inquisitive brains?

  A Bizzy-body and a bumbling baker.

  One will bake you cookies. The other will check you in.

  Spoiler alert: both will meet a rather tragic end.

  Chapter 13

  Jasper had forensics dust my door for prints.

  Noah suggested we have the entire inn set up with a state-of-the-art surveillance system, and both Jasper and I agreed. So Noah and Everett got on the horn while the sheriff’s department scoured the grounds, searched my cottage for any signs of entry, and shooed the remainder of the protesters away.

  It took hours for a rudimentary surveillance system to be set up, and Noah said he’d work with Jasper on getting a better system into play over the next few weeks, but that we were good for now.

  By the time everything died down, it was after ten at night. Lottie said she’d keep Fish in her room with Pancake and Waffles and I thanked her for it.

  Jasper said there was no way I was sleeping in my cottage tonight and maybe not until the killer gets caught. As much as I love my own bed, I know he’s right.

  Plus, that means a sleepover is in order, and for all the months Jasper and I have been engaged, we haven’t had a single one of those. I’m more than a little excited.

  Jasper waited in my cottage as I threw a bag together and we landed at his place in record time—and not just because he lives in the cottage next door.

  Sherlock whimpers. It’s not fair the two of you get a sleepover and Fish isn’t here to have one with me. I’ll be glad when those cats go back to wherever it is they came from. They can’t leave quick enough for me.

  I reach up and scratch the scruff on Jasper’s cheek. “Sherlock misses Fish.”

  He lifts a brow. “I guess I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that.” A soft laugh bounces through his chest as he dots a kiss to my lips. Then on a dime his expression grows serious. “Bizzy, please do me a favor. Don’t put yourself in any more danger than you’re already in. No more suspects.”

  “I’m not,” I protest. “Besides, I’m right here, safe with you.” I snuggle into his arms.

  “But you weren’t necessarily safe today,” he points out with a twinge of caution in his voice as if he were treading on eggshells. “You might have even met up with the killer. They’re onto you, Bizzy. And Lottie, too. I can’t be with you at all hours, and believe me, I wish I could.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter, I promise.” I slip my hand under his shirt and warm it over his skin.

  A wicked grin begins to percolate over his lips. “Why do I think you’re trying to change the subject?”

  “Because you know me so well?”

  “And because you know me so well, you know I’m going to insist you steer clear of my investigation from here on out. I’ve got this one, Bizzy. I’m very close to tracking down the killer. There’s no reason for you to feel you have to put the puzzle together yourself.”

  “Fine.” I shrug as if it were no big deal. “I’ll just do some light reading in my spare time.”

  His left brow hooks into his forehead. “Let me guess. The Maltese Falcon, ‘The Adventures of Silver Blaze’, and Murder on the Orient Express?”

  “You got a problem with that, Detective?”

  “Not unless they land you in the private library inside a suspect’s house.” He gives my arm a playful jostle. “Manage the inn.”

  “Is that the detective version of stay in your lane?”

  “Would you stay in your lane if I told you to?”

  “What do you think?”

  He blows out a breath. “I think I better keep my mouth shut if I want to keep you from bolting out that door and back to your place.”

  “Ah-ha!” I point a finger up at
him playfully. “So it was you leaving those notes on my door in an effort to have me stay the night. Clever. It worked so well I may never leave. Rumor has it, we’re getting married. When was that again?”

  “Pick a date. Say tomorrow. I won’t mind.”

  “I think we settled on fall.” I wrinkle my nose. “How does September sound? End of the month when the leaves start to change colors and the air is crisp?”

  Jasper tips his head to the side. There’s a tenderness in those silver eyes of his that melts me.

  “September?” He touches a finger to my cheek. “That sounds like the perfect month to start our family.”

  “Our family,” I coo. “As in you, me, and Junior?”

  “Only if and when you’re ready.”

  I bite down over my lip as I examine this gorgeous man who’s about to be my husband.

  “I’m ready. In September, I mean. Wait, that’s not right. I mean, if it happens in September I won’t mind. But most likely it won’t, because even if it did I wouldn’t know until October, or maybe even later because—”

  Jasper lands a careful kiss over my lips, and I’m happily silenced.

  He pulls back and examines my features as if he were drinking them down.

  “You’re going to be my wife, the mother of my children. I want to be everything you need me to be and more.” There’s a pained look in his eyes. He’s conflicted and I don’t know why.

  “But?”

  “You’re everything to me, Bizzy. You’re the reason I go to bed and wake up with a smile. You’re the reason I never want to leave Cider Cove. You get me through each day, anxious to rush home just to share a meal with you. I live to make you happy, but I don’t know how to keep you safe. I live for you, Bizzy. I would die for you. But if something happens to you, I will never forgive myself for not being able to protect you. I love you.”

  Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them back.

  “I love you, too,” I whisper. And yet, I have no words to comfort him. I don’t even know how to begin. “I don’t know how to help you with keeping me safe, but I have an idea on how to put a smile on your face.” I pull him up and dance him over to the bedroom. “I’m ready for bed.”