Jasper winces. “She’s still upset about the cat food, isn’t she?”
Leo ticks his head to the side. “You don’t come between a girl and her favorite meal.”
Fish mewls at Leo, I knew I liked you.
Jasper picks up another ring. “Well, I’m not a millionaire. In fact, I’d better get back to work before they stop signing my paychecks. I think I’ll stop by forensics and see how it’s going. They’re searching the body for foreign material and DNA.”
“Sounds exciting,” I say with a wry smile. “I can’t believe someone had the nerve to kill Quinn at his own event, at his own inn. Speaking of the case, I was thinking about it this morning and I couldn’t help but note that Arthur was missing last night after the room was cordoned off.”
Leo glances to Jasper. “She’s right. I didn’t see him either.”
Jasper’s cheek hikes a notch. “That was the guy Quinn introduced as his accounts manager?”
I give a single nod. “I think we should start there first. I bet he had to leave early to dispose of his clothes after he splattered Quinn’s blood all over them.”
“Then that’s where I’ll start.” Jasper slides the ring back to the counter. “Bizzy, the holidays are here. The inn is bursting at the seams, and more than anything, I want you to be safe. How about as an early Christmas gift, you let me have at this case all by my lonesome?”
“I’ll help,” Leo is quick to volunteer before he looks at me. “And that will free up more of your time to figure out when and where I should get down on bended knee.”
“The when will be Christmas Eve; the where will be a little trickier to figure out. Hux wants my input, too, but I can assure you Emmie’s proposal will be spectacular.” I bite down on my lip as I look to Jasper. “How about this, once you track down Arthur to have a word with him, you bring me along? I can read his mind. I’m an invaluable part of your team.”
“I can read minds,” Leo says, holding up a tiny diamond and I shake my head at it.
“But I’m a woman,” I tell them. “I bring out different thoughts in men—lust, greed—both of which could get his wheels churning on why he killed Quinn.”
“If”—Jasper lands those pale gray eyes over me—“he killed Quinn.” He sighs hard. “I’m sorry, Bizzy. Someone came at Quinn Bennet with an axe. They chopped his hand off. This is a ruthless killer. I’d hate to think what they’d do if they knew you were onto them.” He wraps his arms around me tightly and Fish peers up at him. “I’ll take on Arthur. I’ve got a good feeling I can wrap this up before Christmas. And that will be my gift to you.”
Leo shakes his head. “I wouldn’t let him off so easy, Bizzy. He’s in a jewelry store. Make up a wish list for him. If my credit card is going to be wounded, so should his.”
“No thanks.” I wrinkle my nose at Jasper. “Your credit card is my credit card. I’d prefer no part of us wounded come Christmas.” I wiggle my wedding ring his way. “I’m good with the bling I’ve got.”
His phone chirps and he digs it out. “Forensics wants to speak with me. I’d better get going. Leo, snap a picture of whatever you chose and shoot it to me. I trust Bizzy.” He lands a steamy kiss to my lips. Rumor has it, Santa might stop by the bedroom tonight. I’ve got a red pointy hat and I’m not afraid to use it. He pulls back and winces at Leo. “Sorry, man. I keep forgetting you can read me like a book.”
A dull smile flickers on Leo’s lips. “No sweat. See you later. Or should I say ho ho ho?”
“Funny.” He dots my cheek with a kiss. “Remember, Arthur Silver is off-limits.” Jasper gives Fish a quick pat before taking off.
Leo and I search the entire jewelry store before settling on three different rings. The blonde jeweler assisting us suggested we give it some breathing room, so we decide to come back next week.
I collect Georgie at the door and we say goodbye to Leo.
“So where are we off to now, Biz?” Georgie straightens her kaftan, and I can’t help but notice her hair is slightly more mussed than usual and her lipstick slightly smeared.
“Georgie, were you getting frisky with that mall cop?”
“He’s a man of the badge, Bizzy. And his name is Frodo. I’ve got his number, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Well, save it, because right now we need to hunt down a woman by the name of Angelica Chatfield.”
Jasper might have said that Arthur Silver was off-limits, but he didn’t say a thing about Angelica.
Chapter 5
Heading to the Lux Eatery!
I shake my head at Angelica Chatfield’s Insta Pictures account.
“If I was a stalker, I’d know exactly where she is at all times,” I say to Georgie as we get out of the car.
“What fun would that be? I’d find someone else to stalk. I like a good challenge,” Georgie says as she lands Rudolph into the leather tote bag I brought along to cart him in.
Fish balked at the idea of heading off to a fancy restaurant to track down an extra fancy socialite and opted to take a nap back at the cottage. So as soon as Juni dropped Rudolph off, we packed him up and headed out to Rolling Oaks, a ritzy town about a half an hour from Cider Cove. In all fairness, Sherlock wanted to come along, too, but he’s a bit too bulky to be a purse puppy, so Juni offered to let him play with Sprinkles at her place.
But everyone knows a puppy is a socialite’s biggest weakness and perhaps the world’s biggest icebreaker. And I’m all for making that blonde bird sing once again. So puppy power it is.
A beat-up red sedan careens into the lot and glides across the snow as it pulls up next to us, sending both Georgie and me diving into the bushes.
“Hey”—Juni shouts as she gets out in haste—“what did I say about starting the fun without me?”
“Never mind that,” I say. “Dig us out of the snow.” I hold up a hand and she lands both Georgie and me back to our feet. Juni made it clear she was all about suspects and fine dining, so here she is.
I look up at the ritzy glass building with its gold and marble accents.
Juni grunts as she cranes her neck to get a peek inside. “I bet they’ve got steak served twelve juicy ways till Sunday.”
Georgie rubs her belly. “I’m a traditional Maine girl. Steak and lobster, please—and don’t forget to throw in the chowder. And none of that fake Manhattan stuff. If I see a drop of tomato sauce, there will be blood in the water.”
Rudolph barks. And I want bacon!
“Great.” I give him a quick pat. “We’ve got another bacon addict on our hands. I see Sherlock’s job is done. Let’s get in before we turn into snowmen.”
We head inside where they check our coats, and thankfully so. It’s warm and toasty, decorated to the nines in gold and white Christmas ornaments, not a sign of an evergreen, but it’s so gorgeous a part of me wants to emulate the impeccable style next year at the inn.
I glance over at Georgie, and a breath hitches in my throat.
“Georgie, you look amazing,” I say, marveling at her green and red tie-dye kaftan. “You should sell these in your shop.”
“Are you kidding?” Georgie snarls. “That battle axe of a mother you’ve got has instated a uniform, and this ain’t it.”
“Things are going that good, huh? Have you thought of a name yet?”
“Yup”—Juni answers for her—“I came up with it for them last night. The Hippie and the Battle Axe.”
I can’t help but laugh at that one.
“Table for three?” The older man dressed in a tuxedo bows low as he asks the question, but I’m too busy trying to spot my mark.
“Actually, I was looking for someone—Angelica Chatfield?”
“Oh?” He straightens. “I didn’t realize you were with the party. Right this way.”
I don’t dare correct him as he strides us across the glossy white marble floors, and we bypass well-polished men and women with tiny little meals sitting on their plates—and oddly I’ve yet to see a single person take a bite. Go
figure. I take it the rich don’t eat. I knew they weren’t like the rest of us, but this little revelation makes me wonder if this planet underwent an alien invasion without knowing it. Wealthy aliens who don’t need food to fuel their bodies.
The waiter stops short at an oblong table filled with blonde cackling women, all of them ultra-thin, all of them undergoing varying degrees of facial paralysis.
I spot Angelica near the end of the table with a few empty seats around her, and we quickly trot on over and take a seat. Angelica’s blonde hair sits in a nest on top of her head, her dark, thick-framed glasses are firmly in place, and she’s wearing a fitted red leather jacket over a gold turtleneck.
Not a single woman bats a false eyelash our way as they continue to henpeck one another at a frenetic pace.
Juni and Georgie peruse their menus.
Georgie grunts, “There’s not a single price tag on here.”
Juni bounces in her seat. “It’s our lucky day, Mama. That must mean the food is free.”
“It’s not free,” I whisper just as Rudolph lets out a sharp bark. He looks adorable with his head poking out of my leather bag with that perky smile of his and that bright red ribbon tied onto his matching red collar.
In less than five seconds, every eye is feasted this way as the women all coo collectively in this direction.
A blonde in a shimmering silver top trots over and plucks him out of my bag, and soon enough they’re all fighting over him. Lucky for Rudolph, he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s licking up every frozen face he comes across.
“Say.” Angelica taps me on the arm. “Isn’t that the dog from last night?” Her poinsettia red lips round out as she takes me in. “And aren’t you the beekeeper I met?” She casually holds up her wine glass, and a sommelier appears from out of nowhere to fill it.
Georgie leans in and whispers, “She’s tipsy, Biz. Pump a little more truth serum into her, and we’ll have the case solved before the appetizers arrive.”
Here’s hoping.
“I’m an innkeeper, actually.” I offer a warm laugh. “I’m Bizzy. We met just before you went on. And these are my friends, Georgie and Juni.” I nod at her. “And by the way, your performance was amazing.”
“Thank you.” She gives a few rapid blinks. “I guess you can say I’m pleased with the way things turned out last night.”
Juni kicks me from under the table and makes a face.
I know, right? I nod back at her.
How could Angelica be pleased with the way things turned out last night—unless, of course, she’s the killer.
“I thought the performances were outstanding.” That’s the truth. If it weren’t for that little dismembering detail, the night would have been perfect. “Do you perform regularly?”
Angelica is quick to wave it off. “I don’t have time for that.” She winks at someone down at the other end of the table. “I’m a woman of the world. I’m far too busy with the galas, the endless shopping for all the it parties I’m to attend.”
“That’s—lovely.” I force a smile to come and go.
“No, it’s not lovely.” She laughs at the thought. It’s dog eat dog is what it is. Just maintaining this lifestyle is enough to make me want to crawl under the covers and stay there. I’d much rather be home with a good book by the fire than at this table full of ninnies, but duty calls. She shrugs. “Some days are better than others.” It’ll be hard to top last night, but like they say on Broadway, the show must go on.
I lean in and wince. “I’m sorry to ask, but did you know Quinn Bennet well?”
Her eyes close a moment. “Too well.” Her expression sours at the mention of him. “Quinn and I dated off and on. He was a playboy, you know. I was just one woman in that harem he kept. I knew the rules and played along.” Her eyes flit to the side when she says that last part.
A waitress comes over to take our orders, and Juni raises her hand in haste.
“Escrow Gots!” She elbows her moody mother. “That’s fancy speak for land lobsters.”
I shake my head at her. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s a funny way to say snails.”
“Ha!” Juni lifts her wine glass my way, already brimming with the red stuff. “Look at Ms. Fancy Pants ready and willing to pull one over on me.” She snaps her fingers at the waitress. “Make it two orders. I came ready to play.” She pats her stomach and winks at me.
Great. Good thing my credit card came ready to play, too. But I’d much rather have a bauble from Prestons for what this is going to cost me.
Georgie orders the clam chowder, and I do the same. The rest of the table rattles off a number to her, and she seems to know what that means before taking off.
Angelica tries to angle in toward the conversation going on to her left, and I scoot my chair next to hers another inch.
“So did you get to reconnect with Quinn before he was—you know?” I can’t bring myself to say the word murdered.
“Oh yes, I saw him”—her brows flex a moment—“right before the show.” I told that handsome officer last night that I didn’t speak to Quinn after he left the stage. I’d better stick to the story. The murder happened at the inn. This poor girl probably hasn’t been shaken down by the sheriff’s department just yet, and she looks darn right fragile. I bet she’ll sing like a canary as soon as they ask her what her name is. No, I’d better keep the details of our last meeting to myself.
Okay, fine. My lips twitch side to side. Two can play at that game. And one of them can play really well, especially when she has the advantage to read her opponent’s mind.
“Before the show?” I tip my head her way. “I hope you enjoyed the hot cocoa and sweet treats that were laid out.” Because I happened to see her doing both—right before she landed something toxic into Quinn’s drink. Come to think of it, I forgot to mention it to Jasper. I’ll make sure he runs Quinn’s blood work.
Angelica gurgles out a laugh. “Oh, I had those delicious cookies before and after the show. And that peppermint bark?” She rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “I hope you don’t think less of me, but I not only had my fair share, I brought a small plate home with me, too.” And that’s exactly how I celebrated.
Celebrated?
She leans in. “So is everything set for the reading of the will?”
“The reading of the will?” My eyes bulge in disbelief. The man hasn’t been dead for twenty-four hours and already the vultures are circling.
Georgie taps her knee to mine. “Boy, the rich don’t waste time, do they? Hey? Do you think it’s too late for me to get in on that action?”
Angelica belts out a laugh, and Rudolph gives a happy bark from across the way as the women continue to vie for his adorable affection.
I love it here, Bizzy! I never want to leave. No sooner does he shoot the thought my way than the socialite that’s holding him helps him lap the water out of her crystal goblet.
Angelica leans toward Georgie. “You’re not the only one asking if it’s too late to get in on the action. And believe me, the shroud of mystery around this thing is driving my friends bonkers. I spoke to Quinn’s lawyer last night. It looks as if the reading is taking place in the library at the inn. He still needs to shore up some details, but that’s the way Quinn wanted it done when the time came.” And lucky for me, the time came last night, right around nine o’clock.
I don’t even know how to process all that information.
Lucky for her?
She called his lawyer last night?
“The reading of the will is taking place at the inn?” I say that last bit out loud before taking a sip of my water.
“Oh yes.” Angelica dabs her lips with a pristine white cloth and leaves a lip stain on it. “Right after the séance.”
I nearly shoot the water out of my nose.
“A séance! A séance!” Juni jumps up and down in her seat, and for some reason, the rest of the socialites follow her lead. Good Lord, it’s as if they’ve finally found their leader. And, t
hey might have a heck of a lot more fun if Juni were leading the charge. For starters, there would be land lobsters for everyone.
“No to the séance.” I shake my head at Juni. “That is not happening at the inn. It’s Christmastime, for Pete’s sake.”
“That’s right.” Georgie smacks her hand down over the table. “If they want to host that dark perversion, they’ll have to come up to my place. What I wouldn’t do to have a hot dead ghost like Quinn Bennet haunting my halls. Meow.” She claws at the air, and I can’t help but groan.
“No to that, too,” I say in the event Angelica decides to take her up on it.
Angelica makes a face my way. “Okay, have it your way. Who wants him there, anyway?” Spewing God knows what. She averts her eyes once again, and I’m getting the feeling Angelica very much prefers that Quinn keeps his ghostly trap shut.
On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t have ixnayed the idea so quickly.
Lunch arrives, and sure enough, each woman has a large white platter set in front of them with what amounts to a handful of lawn clippings and a side of sliced radish. Both Georgie and I have a shot-glass worth of clam chowder, and Juni, well, her meal takes the cake. And I’m betting she’s wishing she went for the cake instead.
Juni’s dual order of escargot consists of two oversized snails that look as if they’re about to rumble—albeit very slowly.
“What in the fresh hell is this?” Juni backs her seat up a notch as if she were afraid they were about to attack.
Angelica laughs. “You’re my people, Juni.” Lord knows people like Juni are kinder and far more genuine than the vipers I run with. I should know. I’ve been running with the likes of Juni for years now and loving every manic minute of it. “Here.” She slides her lawn clippings over to Juni. “Let’s see if the snails are hungry.”
The four of us break out into a fit of laughter, causing the rest of the table to pause from their own zombie-like cackling.
Lunch begins to wind down, and I can feel my access to Angelica beginning to winnow away. It’s time to be bold.
A Christmas to Dismember Page 5
