“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” I whisper as I move to the edge of my seat. “What did you see that you’re going to report to my husband? I mean, if you’re comfortable sharing.” Please, God, let him be comfortable sharing. It’s not fair that Jasper gets all of the good stuff effortlessly and I have to listen to Georgie berate me to do it.
He takes a quick breath just as the bartender slides a couple of drinks over.
“On my tab.” Warwick nods to the man. After all, I’m assuming I’m the new owner. His cheek flickers as if he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Anyway, I finally made my way outside and saw Quinn and his accountant going at it.”
“Arthur Silver?” My heart booms in my chest. I bet he got his own heart pumping after whacking poor Quinn to death. No wonder he took Macy up on her saucy offer. He wanted to get it off his mind while working out all that adrenaline that was coursing through his system.
“That’s him.” Warwick runs his finger around the lip of his glass. “Arthur was howling at the guy or I would have gone over. I stepped into the shadows for a moment, I’m ashamed to say, to hear what all the ruckus was about, but all I could make out was that Arthur wanted some money to pay his bills—Arthur’s bills. Quinn always settled his own debts. No bill was ever late. For as wild as Quinn was with the women, he was a perfect square when it came to paying his bills on time and paying his taxes.” Too much of a square if you ask me. One with four sharp corners with which you could cut yourself. He shakes his head. “Quinn said something back to him, calmly, of course. The man never raised his voice, and no sooner did Arthur take off than one of his old flames, Angelica Chatfield, came out.”
“Angelica?” My head ticks to the side. “She’s the socialite he said always knew how to bring men to their feet. I’m assuming because she has the voice of an angel. She gave a great performance that night.” And she called Quinn’s lawyer regarding the reading of the will before they hauled his body out of there, too, but I keep that nasty bit to myself.
“I don’t know if I’d call her a socialite.” His eyes flit to the ceiling. “Maybe she qualified, once upon a dime. But the woman is broke—has been for a couple of years. She’s still keeping appearances, though.”
A thought I intercepted from Angelica comes back to me. I distinctly remember her saying something to the effect that it was difficult maintaining her lifestyle. And now I know why.
“No kidding?” Georgie bleats. “How did she lose her money? Let me guess, she got robbed by the one-armed bandit. It happens to the best of us.” She plucks the cherry out of her fruity drink and takes an angry bite.
Warwick chuckles. “I think a few bad investments had something to do with it. She bought up too much too fast—that real estate bubble a few years back didn’t work in her favor either. And I seem to recall she liked to spend freely. People are surprised at how fast money can burn. Even the rich can find themselves in a predicament. I’m no billionaire, but I lost out on an investment myself about two years ago. I bought in on a few Donut Dungeons as a franchisee, and it turns out, the corporation sold me all of their dogs. I should have done my due diligence, but I’m afraid the only research I did was picking up a few too many boxes of crullers. Anyway, I had to do a little tap dancing, but I got out by the skin of my teeth. I’m not getting back into the food game anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
And that’s exactly why I’m hoping Quinn didn’t gift this place to me. Although knowing Quinn, he did it just to get a laugh out of it. Who knows? Maybe I can make this one work.
I lean in. “ Did you happen to hear what Quinn and Angelica were talking about that night?”
He winces. “She was sharp-tongued. Called him every name in the book. Nothing I’d repeat with a couple of nice girls like you sitting by my side.”
“He called me a girl.” Georgie winks my way, and I choose to ignore it.
“And did Angelica leave upset?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I left. I figured poor Quinn needed a moment to lick his wounds.”
Georgie snaps her fingers. “So it was Angelica who did it. Knew it.” She slaps her hand onto the counter. “It’s always the ex-socialite. I bet she asked for cash and he pulled out the wrong bill. No wonder she hacked his hand off.”
“Georgie.” I wrinkle my nose at her.
“Oh, it’s true, Bizzy.” Georgie shakes her head. “You’ve never seen anything like a socialite scorned. How do you think I got this scar?” She points to the cleft in her chin, and I make a face because I have a feeling we’ve just careened out of reality and into the magical land where Georgie’s mind believes whatever comes out of her mouth—and as long as Warwick believes it, I don’t mind one bit. “I was hunting sea glass down at Bar Harbor, and a rich witch tried to shake me down. And when I wouldn’t hand over all my tumbled sea jewels, she pulled a blade on me.” How am I doing, kid? Her eyes expand my way, and I shake my head at her. Georgie waves me off. “Anyway, this case is officially closed. I’m sure they’ll cuff her tomorrow.” She snuggles up next to Warwick. “You know what’s not closed? My bedroom door. I’m the last cottage just past the inn. I’ll leave a trail of chocolate chip cookies in case you have a hard time finding it.”
The two of them share a throaty laugh, and I can’t help but shake my head at it.
“She’s clearly kidding,” I say.
“I’m as serious as that heart attack I’m looking to give you.” She blows the man a kiss before diving in for the real deal.
“Would you look at that”—I say, pulling Georgie off the stool—“the keg is free, and it’s been years since either of us has done a decent handstand. It was nice talking to you, Warwick! I’ll see you at the reading of the will!”
“Speak for yourself, sister,” Georgie says as she tries to swat me off of her by way of her purse. But it’s too late. I’ve dragged us over to beer central in hopes to herd Juni and Macy back to the car. I’ll have to text Jasper and tell him not to bother to show. I’ve got everything we need.
Before I know what’s happening, Macy and Juni storm me with a group of frat boys, chanting the words chug it over and over again. Someone lifts my legs off the ground and I grab onto the lip of the keg for dear life.
A perky brunette gives me a splash in the face with the spigot in her hand, and as I open my mouth to protest the effort, what feels like a gallon of beer is quickly funneled down my throat.
“GAH!” I twist my head to the side and end up giving myself a beer facial instead.
The next thing I know, I’m falling through the air before landing softly in the arms of a dangerously sexy, yet more than slightly bewildered homicide detective.
I take a moment to cringe. “Can you believe I wanted to see how limber I could be?”
He shakes his head, not a sign of a smile in sight.
“I can explain everything,” I say the words in one quick breath before he decides to drop me like a stone and run for the hills. “Got a minute?”
“For you? I’ve got all night.”
I collect my crime-fighting posse, and we hightail it back to Cider Cove.
And I spend all night explaining to Jasper everything I learned about Angelica and Arthur.
There is a very real possibility one of them took an axe to Quinn Bennet. But soon enough, we shelf all talk about the case, and I decide to test out how limber I can be in much more creative ways.
I leave on the reindeer antlers and blinking red nose to spice things up.
And yet, it’s Jasper who slays me with his moves in the very best way.
Chapter 12
“Here you go.” Jordy lands a large plastic tub marked Christmas at my feet as I stand in front of the fresh evergreen the Sugar Plum Tree Lot just delivered. “The last of the Christmas ornaments. Are you sure we needed another tree?”
“Yes, we absolutely needed another tree. The reading of the will is tomorrow in the library, and I thought it would be a nice touch to have a tree in there. You kn
ow, get people’s mind off the grief. And thank you for moving the tree from the entry to the library for me. I didn’t think the tree lot was going to deliver a new one until tomorrow. At least this way the entry won’t be bare.”
“Oh yeah, it was fun shedding ornaments every two feet.” He makes a face. Jordy looks exactly like Emmie in female skin—partially why that twenty-four hour marriage of ours didn’t last. “But Sherlock helped pick them all up.” He gives Sherlock’s ears a quick tussle. “I’ll go finish up in the library. Just holler if you need me.”
The inn is bustling, the snow is falling lightly outside, and I can see the flickering flames of the fireplace in the grand room. It’s a perfect December afternoon, or at least it would be if Quinn Bennet’s killer were behind bars. I can’t believe the poor man was murdered, let alone right here at his own inn.
Fish mewls as she stretches her front paws and retracts her claws, one after the other. Why do trees smell so good?
So we know where to relieve ourselves! Rudolph gives an adorable little yip as he continues to run a circle around the evergreen. Watch me do it now!
“No, no, no,” I say as sweetly yet sternly as I can. There’s no way I can reprimand that cutie pie. He’s far too adorable with the perennial smile on his face. It would be tantamount to yelling at a baby.
Sherlock gives a lazy bark. Bizzy doesn’t believe we should relieve ourselves indoors.
Rudolph bites out a couple of cheery barks my way. I’ve seen her do it! His big brown eyes sparkle as he looks my way. And I’ve caught Fish and Jasper doing it, too.
“That’s because we’re not special enough to do our business outside,” I’m quick to tell him in an effort to save my carpets.
Fish chirps, Nor do we want to be.
Rudolph runs right up to Fish and barks freely in her face. I’m not gonna be special then either. He runs to the base of the tree and lifts his leg.
“Don’t you dare test me on this.” It comes out a touch sterner than I intended, but once that little furry leg of his goes down, I know it was worth it.
Come on, kid. I’ll take you outside. Sherlock nudges the little furball. I know how to open the door with my nose.
They dart off just as Georgie hustles this way in one of her wonky quilt dresses that sports just about every holly jolly pattern.
“Where’s the fire?” She stops short as they bullet past her. “Kids these days.” She migrates my way and immediately gets to the task of putting ornaments on the tree. “Speaking of fire, I had a war with a well-lit wick in my cottage last night, if you know what I mean.”
I take in a sharp breath. “Don’t tell me that man took you up on your trail of chocolate chip cookies.”
“Bizzy Baker Wilder,” a deep voice belts out my name from behind, and I turn to see Leo Granger headed this way dressed in his olive-colored deputy duds with an ear-to-ear grin on his face.
He nods to Georgie. “Did I hear the words trail of chocolate chip cookies?”
“Yes,” I snip, shooting the guilty party a look. “Georgie lured a man to her cottage by promising him carbs, sugar, and booze.”
A husky laugh emits from her. “Oh, I made good on it, too—and then some.”
Leo picks up a bright red ball of glass. “Can’t say I blame the guy. You had me at cookies, Georgie.”
“I had him, too.” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “And I took bite after bite.”
“Okay.” I make eyes at Leo. “Guess what? I inadvertently pulled a little info out of my bestie. I know the perfect way you can propose.”
Georgie scoffs. “Don’t listen to her, Leo. Her marriage is on the rocks. She’s forever sneaking off to bars looking for other men.”
I avert my eyes. “Don’t listen to the rumors, Leo. Jasper and I are fine. And those other men just so happen to be suspects.”
“I saw Jasper this morning.” He picks up another ornament. “He told me all about the keg-stand. Impressive. But Georgie’s got a point. You’re a married woman. I’d save the handstands for home. Just my humble opinion.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I quickly fill him in on Emmie’s dream proposal.
“That’s great.” He looks momentarily stunned. “Emmie always has a chocolate cake in the café. How about this—would you mind hiding the ring and serving the cake?”
“Done. Speaking of rings, did you decide which one to go with?”
He holds out his phone and pulls up a picture of a cushion cut diamond with a halo of smaller stones fringing it.
“Leo, it’s perfect.”
“Mmm.” Georgie melts as she takes it in. “Nothing says be mine forever than a compressed lump of coal. If she says no, I’m in.”
“I might take you up on it.” He slips his phone back into his pocket. “I’d better get back to work.” He nods my way. “Jasper let me know forensics finally came back with the blood analysis.”
“That’s right,” I say a little too giddy at the prospect. “Jasper was at the lab last night. He must have forgotten to mention the results when we got home.”
Georgie clucks her tongue to Leo. “First, she’s hanging out with frat boys in bars, and now he’s keeping things from her. Got any single hot deputy friends lying around? You-know-who might be newly single soon herself.” She ticks her head my way.
“Not true.” I won’t even entertain that nightmare.
Rudolph and Sherlock run back in just as Leo takes off, and Georgie and I finish decorating the tree.
Angelica Chatfield slipped something into Quinn’s drink. She was the last person who spoke to him alive. I think the murderous math is beginning to add up, and it looks as if the sum total equals murder.
Chapter 13
Diazepam.
Jasper filled me in on it last night as soon as he got home. In other words, Valium was found in Quinn’s bloodstream. Not enough to kill him, just enough to make him weak. And on that white glove that was left at the scene, they found both Quinn’s blood and chocolate. I guess the killer had a hankering for a sweet treat, not that I could blame them.
Emmie was at the helm of the refreshment table that night just like she is now in the library with me. The refreshment table looks just as delicious as the desserts with its bright red tablecloth and its festive looking poinsettia, each nestled in a fresh evergreen wreath.
“I still think Angelica was trying to drug him,” I whisper to Jasper as Emmie and I put the last-minute touches on the refreshment table. Every inch of the library is gleaming with holiday perfection. The library is more of a formal sitting room with a few extra shelves of books. But the inn has a smaller lending library in the grand room as well. The fireplace is crackling, and the room holds the scent of the evergreen Jordy placed in the corner yesterday. I also had him fill the room with the ladderback chairs in a half-circle, ensconcing a desk that we turned to face the upcoming crowd. I have no idea how many to expect, but I put a couple of books on the seats off to the right of the desk where Jasper and I will sit. We made sure we’d have a full view of just about every face in here. It won’t guarantee I’ll be able to read their minds, but it will definitely up my odds. Jasper is the pro at reading faces. It’ll help him, too.
“She might have been trying to drug him. It’s a valid point.” Jasper offers a sober nod while filling a Styrofoam cup with coffee. “If the guy was off his game, it certainly made it easier on the killer.”
Emmie holds out a platter of sweets between us. “Cookie? Peppermint bark?”
“I’ll never say no to that.” I quickly swipe a snowball dusted with enough powdered sugar to build a snowman with and indulge in the buttery goodness.
“Chocolate chip for me,” Jasper says, plucking one off the tray just as Emmie gasps.
“People are heading this way,” she hisses in a panic. “I’m out of here.” Emmie lands the platter on the table, and just as she skips on out, Georgie escorts in a tall, handsome man with an easy smile and a head full of gray hair.
Georgie holds a hand out my way and the sequins on her red kaftan sparkle like stars. “And this would be the manager at the inn, Bizzy Baker—Wilder. And her husband, Detective Wilder.”
“Ah yes.” The man’s smile broadens. “Joseph Goodyear. I’m Quinn Bennet’s attorney.” He gives an affable nod. “As in present tense. That is, until the conclusion of today’s proceedings.” He strums a warm laugh. “It’s great to meet you, Bizzy. You as well, Detective.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Is it okay that my husband is present? I was hoping he could be here—you know, for emotional support.”
“Absolutely.” He looks to Jasper. “I wouldn’t take anyone off the suspect list just yet. Unfortunately, I’ve seen this play out before. The killer might just be in this very room today.” Quinn always said if he met an untimely demise that we wouldn’t have to look far for the killer. I’d bet money he or she will be right in our midst today. I’ll try to take a stab at who the killer might be myself. I’ve guessed correctly on a few occasions. Let’s see if I can keep my track record going. He nods as he begins to step away.
“Oh, and one more thing.” I hold up my hand in an effort to stop him. “Would you mind extending an invitation to those that show up today to the Cider Cove Christmas Spectacular? It’ll be right here on Main Street tomorrow evening. I know that won’t help with the grief, but in the least they might have a little holiday magic to look forward to.”
“It would be a delight.” He gives a long blink as if to affirm it.
Georgie shudders. “Let’s keep with the happy thoughts. How about I get you a cookie, hot shot? Chocolate chip?” she says those last two words low and throaty, and something tells me those cookies have been her seduction arsenal for quite some time. She leans my way and whispers, “Had I known I’d meet a king today I wouldn’t have done the bad boogey with the pauper the other night.”
A Christmas to Dismember Page 13
