Country Cottage Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

“It happened for you last time. Remember? And then it ended badly.”

  “It didn’t end badly. He forgot to call. Over and over again.” She wrinkles her nose. “Try not to rain on my apple picking parade, would you?”

  “Fine, go pick some apples. Pick up a bushel for the Cottage Café while you’re at it, and I’ll pay you for your time.”

  “Whoo-hoo!” she cheers as she heads for the door. “It’s nice to have your bestie as your boss.” She turns around. “Oh, and Bizzy? Don’t go see that woman alone. The last thing I want is some maniac offing you.”

  “You sound a lot like Jasper.”

  “Ooh. Jasper.” She wiggles her shoulders. “I think you just like to say his name.”

  She takes off just as Nessa and Grady arrive. And they both generously agree to keep watch over the inn for me. And since I’m down one bestie, refuse to bring along my psycho of a sister, and my brother the legal eagle is out of the question, I head to the only person I can turn to at a time like this.

  Georgie’s cottage sits all by its lonesome, even though it’s closest to the inn itself but still far enough away for it to feel like a tiny piece of paradise. Her studio cottage is situated on a grassy knoll and has a premium view of the cove. The water looks steely gray today, there’s a marine layer lying over the ocean, and the air is both crisp and briny.

  No sooner do I come upon Georgie’s quaint little cottage than the familiar sound of breaking glass slices through the silence. I’d be alarmed if I wasn’t used to it by now. Georgie spends her days walking up and down all the beaches of Maine looking for abandoned bottles she can turn into art.

  I give a brisk knock over the door, and soon enough the sound of chaos dies down in there. I can hear her footfalls headed in this direction, and the door opens, revealing that pleased-to-see-me smile she wears for just about everyone. Her hair is curly yet frizzy as can be, framing her face like a salt and pepper mane. She’s dressed in denim overalls covered with paint, and there’s a strong chemical odor emitting from her cottage.

  Her entire being brightens at the sight of me.

  “Well, look who it is, the vampire queen. Come in, come in! I want to hear all about it. Is he a good kisser? Does he bite?” She presses out each word with a greedy grin.

  “I’ll come in, but for the sake of both our lungs, we should probably keep the door open.” I wave my hand over my nose as I stride inside. Georgie has the place covered in large pieces of plywood in which she’s glued amazing mosaic patterns. On her work table there are dozens of vases and an oval mirror encrusted in what looks like jade sea glass. “Oh, Georgie, this is gorgeous! You’re going to be a hit at the Harvest at the Cove event. I can’t wait to see everyone clawing to get your things.”

  “I know, I know. I’m so excited.” She trots to the kitchenette and comes back with two shot glasses filled with wheatgrass. “Time to energize your day.”

  “Thank you,” I say, knocking mine back quickly. I’ve had enough of them to know what they are. And she’s right. They really do energize my day. I shudder once the aftertaste hits me. “You added the lime like I suggested. I love it!”

  “Just for you, my sweets. I don’t do bitters.”

  “For all the care you take of yourself, you’d think you’d ventilate this place. You’re going to get high off all the fumes.”

  She looks at me from under her lashes with a note of mischief in her eyes. “That’s what I’m counting on. Now onto the details.” She motions for me to hurry. “Spill, spill!”

  “We haven’t kissed. And before you ask, we won’t be kissing.”

  “What?” She looks crestfallen at the news. “When Macy got back to Lather and Light, she clearly said the two of you were dating. Back in my day, that was code for doing it.”

  “Well, that’s not happening either.” A brief, heated vision of the two of us in the throes of passion flits through my mind, and I quickly wave it right back out. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. What are you doing in about a half an hour?”

  She squints hard as she folds her arms across her chest. “Anything you want me to do.”

  “Perfect. We’re about to go on a shopping spree.”

  And who knows?

  We might just bag a killer.

  The alcove of homes that lies directly adjacent to the entry of the orchard has always been ritzy, extremely expensive, and highly sought-after. Before my parents divorced, we lived in Seaside Plains, about a six-mile drive up the way in a comfortable split-level home that was indeed split down the financial middle once my parents were forced to sell in the aftermath of their martial dissolution.

  My brother was already in college by then, and my mother bought a small condo near the beach where my sister and I lived with her for a time. My father was busy dotting all of Cider Cove with new residences and wives, neither of which lasted long enough to provide any stability.

  I called Jeannie early this morning to let her know that the inn was looking to buy up some inventory for the spa in honor of Kaitlynn, and she sounded perfectly relieved to hear it.

  Georgie and I pull up to the house number Jeannie gave me, and I spot the double wide garage door open, so we park and head on up.

  The overstuffed garage is brimming with brown boxes. Stacks taller than I am line either side of it, and more boxes eat up the middle. A perky blonde with wet spaghetti-like hair beams with a smile as she heads over to meet us. Her skin looks pasty in the sun, and her nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles.

  “You must be Jeannie,” I say, extending a hand her way and she gives it a healthy shake.

  “That I am. And you must be the woman Kaitlynn sent to save me. I’m drowning in potions and lotions. My dad said he’d pay you to take it all off my hands.” She rolls her eyes. “He was teasing, of course.” Not really, but that’s for me to know.

  A warm laugh bounces out of me. “I’ll do my best to help you out. This is my friend, Georgie.”

  Georgie extends her hand as well. “I’m a buyer for Lather and Light.” Oh, she’s not the killer, Bizzy. I can just tell by that sweet look in her eyes. I’ll let you know when we come upon the monster that did this.

  Great.

  I grimace over at her. And if Macy didn’t already despise her career choices, she’ll have a conniption once Georgie shows up with a truckload of product.

  “Wow! Lather and Light? I love that place. This is fantastic.” Jeannie is quick to lead us up to the garage with a newfound enthusiasm. And before we know it, she has at least sixteen boxes opened at our feet and we carefully curate what we think would work best for the spa. Correction, Jeannie and I carefully curate what we think would be best for the spa while Georgie takes a Sharpie and marks every box she’ll take—and by the looks of things, she’s taking them all. My sister will be steaming when she sees brand new inventory showed up uninvited. I’d intervene, but I’m pretty sure this can be slotted under payback for that little stunt she pulled at the brewery.

  “Hey, Jeannie? If all that stock doesn’t work out for Lather and Light, would you take returns?”

  “Not a problem. Once it leaves the garage, at least there’s the illusion of hope that it won’t be coming back.” And I pray it doesn’t come back.

  Georgie turns around. “Hey, Jeannie Bo Beanie!” Dear God. She’s already gifted her a cheery moniker. “How about those boxes?” She points to the top shelf on the right.

  “No, sorry, Georgie!” God no. “Those are my private reserves.”

  “Gotcha!” She offers us a double thumbs-up.

  God no? They must have something in them other than cosmetics? Or maybe a premium blend she’s slow to part with?

  The address label on one of the boxes catches my eye. It’s addressed to Bowden Development. I glance at a few more boxes and note they’re all the same.

  I tap my finger on one. “What’s Bowden Development? Is that some sort of an umbrella corporation?” No sooner do I get the words out than I regret them. I just gave
her an easy out if it were a cover-up.

  Jeannie turns my way, still panting from reorganizing all of the inventory for our sakes.

  “It’s my dad’s development company.” She wrinkles her nose. “Contrary to what people believe, I don’t have a trust fund. My dad kicked in my portion of the start-up. So you can see why he was so happy when he heard you were on your way.” She makes a face. “He’ll get paid back eventually, though. I can’t thank you enough, Bizzy. I’ll stop by the café sometime and see how it’s selling if you don’t mind. I’m still in this. I’m not quitting Natural Beauty, but I think Kaitlynn and I got in a little over our heads. Once I regroup and get the website working how it should, I think we’ll—I’ll be killing it.” She cringes. “Horrible choice of words, I know.”

  I cringe along with her. “So, who do you think could have done such a thing? Such a violent crime.”

  “I don’t know.” Jeannie’s eyes flutter, and for a brief moment I think she’s about to pass out. “I hate thinking about it. She and Chris had their problems, but he’s not a killer. And I know that the sheriff’s report said that she and Rissa were seen arguing before she died, but I don’t know. Rissa would argue with Kaitlynn about anything. She still blames Kaitlynn’s father for breaking up her parents.” She shrugs. “I spoke to the detective that night. Wow, was he hot.” She’s back to wincing, and this time I do my best not to roll my eyes. “And I only say so because I know Kaitlynn would agree with me. Not that we had the same taste in men.” She sticks her tongue out as if she were about to be sick.

  “You don’t care for Chris?”

  “Chris is okay. It was the other one.”

  “What other one?” I try to maintain my composure.

  “Well, I guess if you count Cameron, there were a few other ones. But no matter what anyone says, Cameron was truly Kaitlynn’s best friend. They dated briefly in high school, but they became closer after their split.”

  “Huh. I wonder why she didn’t stay with him? I mean, if they get along so well. You would think being with your best friend would be ideal.”

  “It would, but Cameron has a dark side that he apparently saves for his official plus one. She couldn’t tolerate it. And, believe me when I say, not a lot of people can tolerate Cameron Weiss.”

  “Oh right. They don’t call him the Weiss Guy for nothing,” I say, thinking quick on my feet.

  “Ha! That’s funny! And you’re right. He is a wise guy.” Among other, far more sinister things. But then, Kaitlynn did have a hankering for the sinister and the secretive.

  Secretive?

  “Does he still work down at the wharf in Rose Glen?” I have no clue where he works, or who he is, but I’m riding this wave of deception until I hit sand or wipeout.

  “What? No, Cameron would never be caught slumming at the wharf. He was a Ward boy. They’re prone to be difficult. Sorry if you went there.”

  A genuine laugh bounces through me. “I went to Dexter University. And believe me, I know all about those Ward boys and how difficult they can be.” Jasper and that obnoxious ego bounces through my mind.

  “Cameron is teaching classes at the community college in Rose Glen. That’s probably where you got the wharf thing.”

  “Probably,” I say.

  “He’s a guidance counselor, too.”

  “A guidance counselor.” I know for a fact guidance counselors have drop-in hours, and I fully plan to utilize that to my advantage.

  Georgie dances her way out of the garage as if she just won the lottery.

  “I’ll take it all, missy! Sold, sold, and sold!”

  Jeannie and I share a warm laugh.

  She looks to Georgie. “I’ll have all the boxes you marked shipped to the Lather and Light by later this afternoon.” She turns my way. “And if you want, I can help you get most of the stuff for the spa in the trunk of your car.”

  “That would be great. Hey, Jeannie? How did you and Kaitlynn meet?”

  She winces. “We met at a party. I was new in town, and she was kind enough to show me around.”

  She helps load the boxes into my truck and the entire time I try my hardest to get a bead on her thoughts, but she’s too focused on the task at hand.

  We thank Jeannie for her time and take off. I’m not entirely sure Jeannie is off my suspect list. Not that she gave me a reason to be suspicious, but I’m assuming killers rarely do.

  Now to find Cameron Weiss and find out why a nice girl like Kaitlynn couldn’t tolerate him.

  Chapter 11

  Why is there a crap ton of Natural Beauty cosmetics in my stockroom? And by the way, I don’t have a stockroom. It’s called a showroom. And thanks to this petty prank you’re pulling, I don’t have customers either. Get down here and help me chuck this junk into the nearest body of water.

  I can’t help but giggle as I read Macy’s text. She was astute as a child, and she’s far shrewder than that as a wily adult. She’s as adorable as she is mean, but that’s just one of her loveable quirks.

  I text back. I can’t help you. I’m at Rose Glen Community College. The new stock is a gift from Georgie. And it’s not considered green to chuck things into a body of water. Sell it. Who knows? You might even turn a profit for once.

  My phone pings again. Funny. Hey? Does what’s-his-face have a brother? Because I would totally settle for a good-looking sibling of the male persuasion. Just letting you know.

  A dull laugh catches in my throat as I look up at the elongated sign sprawled across a concrete wall. Rose Glen Community College, Where Dreams Become a Reality.

  I’ve always loved Rose Glen. Much like Cider Cove, Rose Glen is a small seaside community. But Rose Glen is far more of a fishing town than Cider Cove will ever be. They have a harbor and a huge wharf that features great places to eat, and tons of shops that are mostly geared toward tourists. But every now and again, I peruse the boutiques just to see what’s new in the fashion world. If I ever needed to buy a dress for a special occasion, I’ve gone to the wharf with my credit card at the ready.

  But I’m not shopping or visiting the wharf. I’m heading over to a drop-in counseling session with a man by the name of Cameron Weiss—Professor Weiss to be exact.

  My phone pings again with another text from Macy.

  Oh, and before I forget—I promise retribution for siccing Georgie on me. If I were you, I’d watch my cute little back.

  Goodness.

  I turn off the volume to my phone and bury it deep into my purse as I head into the brown brick structure. It’s bright inside, and the nostalgic scent of academia clings in the air as I head down to the administrative end of the building. I’m more than familiar with RGCC since I spent two years here before transferring out to Dexter University. I can’t believe that was years ago. It really does feel like just yesterday I was a nervous high school grad bearing notebooks with giant neon kiss prints over them and pens in a rainbow of colors. I was as comical to look at as I was studious.

  A smattering of students sit at the open lounge as I sign in to see Professor Weiss, and I’m happy to note that there’s not a student in line ahead of me. Before I can take a seat, the secretary, an older woman with droopy jowls and glasses that hang off a chain, cranes her neck my way as she shouts my name as if she didn’t just see me jot it down.

  “I’m here.” I raise my hand a smidge. “That’s me, Bizzy Baker.”

  She looks markedly annoyed as if my name somehow offended her. And she wouldn’t be the first. My mother got a lot of flak for letting me run around with a nickname my sister gave me rather than the perfectly good moniker she gifted me.

  I’m led to the first door that’s opened in the back, and a nice looking man with a startlingly familiar face smiles up at me from his desk.

  “Come on in,” he offers. “I’m Cameron Weiss—just Cameron is fine. Feel free to shut the door if you like.”

  And I do just that. The office is small and boxy, and I spot a framed picture of him and Kaitlynn holding one
another in front of a giant roller coaster, looking very much like a couple.

  Cameron Weiss looks almost identical to Chris Davidson, same light brown hair, same light eyes, same everything, save for the golden tan. Cameron looks a wee bit heavier, but that extra cushioning gives him an overall softer appeal.

  He flashes an easy smile my way. “So what can I do for you?” He leans back in his seat, and his leather chair begins to rock.

  “I’m actually—um, looking into some classes for my niece. She’s in her senior year, and I wanted to know what steps she’ll need to take to enroll.” Lies, all lies, but I’m half-afraid he’ll look me up in their files and see that I’ve already moved on from this fine institution. And, sadly, the lies came all too easily.

  “Sounds good. Enrollment is easy. Just have her pull up an application on the school’s website, and”—he reaches back and pulls out a bloated pamphlet—“give her this. It includes days and hours for the placement test she’ll need to take. And after that, have her see me.”

  “Oh, that’s great.” I bite my lip hard. That went far too quickly. Now what? I glance to the picture of the two of them once again. “Oh wow, I know her. I mean, I knew her.” That last part comes out in less than a whisper.

  Cameron takes a deep breath as he pulls the picture in close and studies it pensively.

  “Kaitlynn,” he finally manages. “She was everything to me.” His chest bucks, and suddenly I feel like I want to be anywhere but here. Jasper is right. I shouldn’t be doing this. And now look? I’m about to reduce a grown man to tears. He sniffs hard and seemingly regains his composure. “How did you know her?”

  “Oh, she worked at the café at the inn I manage.” I stop shy of telling him it was me who found her. “It’s just horrible what happened.”

  “It’s worse than that.” He shakes his head. “So, you really knew her. Were the two of you—you know—friends?”

  “We were a little more than acquaintances. But we were friendly. Kaitlynn was an angel to everyone—ornery customers included.” Jasper comes to mind. Speaking of minds, I try my hardest to pry into the mind of the man in front of me, but he seems to be full of white noise—and it doesn’t seem to be of the sexual variety either. I’m not sure what that means, but it might be his grief throwing off the signal.