Murder Bites
Page 1
Murder Bites
Country Cottage Mysteries 5
Addison Moore
Bellamy Bloom
Contents
Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Recipe
Preview: Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies
Snippet
Preview: Meow for Murder
Books by Addison Moore and Bellamy Bloom
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Copyright © 2020 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
All Rights Reserved.
This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
* * *
Copyright © 2020 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom
Created with Vellum
Book Description
The Country Cottage Inn is known for its hospitality. Leaving can be murder.
* * *
My name is Bizzy Baker and I can read minds. Not every mind, not every time, but most of the time, and believe me when I say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
* * *
Valentine’s Day is coming right up and the Country Cottage Inn is playing host to a bevy of romantic shenanigans. The very first love-inspired event on the agenda is a night for singles to mingle. But that mass blind date with Cupid goes horribly awry when one of the hosts ends up dead as a heart-shaped doornail. It certainly doesn’t make things better when I’m found holding the murder weapon, because as any good homicide detective knows, that puts me right at the top of the suspect list.
* * *
Bizzy Baker runs the Country Cottage Inn, has the ability to pry into the darkest recesses of both the human and animal mind, and has just stumbled upon a body. With the help of her kitten, Fish, a mutt named Sherlock Bones, and an ornery yet dangerously good-looking homicide detective, Bizzy is determined to find the killer.
* * *
Cider Cove, Maine is the premier destination for fun and relaxation. But when a body turns up, it’s the premier destination for murder.
Chapter 1
My name is Bizzy Baker and I read minds. Not every mind, not every time, but it happens, and believe me when I say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Like now for instance.
Great news—Georgie Conner leans over the marble counter of the reception area in the Country Cottage Inn—I found the perfect vacation spot up north. They serve three hot meals a day, have a sundeck available every afternoon, and a library with the complete works of Shakespeare. They have a craft center and yoga classes. It’s lights on at five in the morning and lights out at nine. I think I can really dig a place like that.
I make a face over at the wiry-haired woman before me whom I’ve grown to love like a grandmother. She’s donned a red sequin kaftan in honor of tonight’s heart-shaped festivities and she has that twinkle in her blue eyes that tells me she’s already having a good time. Georgie is an older woman who I couldn’t love more if she was family, and in a way she’s just that. My father has married more women over the years than I care to count, and Georgie was once officially his mother-in-law. But unlike the many ex-mothers-in-law my father has amassed that have drifted away, Georgie stayed put, and I’m glad about it, too.
Georgie is one of the very few people who knows I have the ability to read minds, and she does love to put me to the test every now and again—like now for example.
“Georgie, that place you just described sounds either like a psychiatric ward or a prison. I suggest you stay out of both.”
She waves me off. “It’s a place called Collinsworth.”
“Oh my God.” I nearly drop the pen right out of my hand. “Georgie, Collinsworth is a women’s correctional facility right here in northern Maine. It is a prison.”
“A what?” She inches back. “Well, what’s my precious Juniper Moonbeam doing there?”
“What’s a Juniper Moonbeam?”
“My daughter. The one that was momentarily detained by way of matrimony to your wedding-hungry father.”
“Oh, that’s right. Juni.” I like to tease that I got Georgie in the divorce. And honest to God, I almost always forget about Juni being the very reason why I got her.
Georgie glowers at the ballroom a moment. “I’ll see you at the dance, Biz.”
It’s not quite a dance we’re hosting here tonight at the Country Cottage Inn. I’m not entirely sure what tonight’s Cupid-centered chaos could be classified as. But I do know that I can lay the blame squarely on Georgie Conner’s colorful shoulders. Georgie met some online love match guru last month who owns and operates a dating app called Dependable. His name is Elvis Hendrix and he’s about as artificial and yet colorful as his made-up moniker suggests. Anyway, he asked if he could have the ballroom for a dating event this evening and it seemed harmless enough, so I guess at the end of the day the blame falls squarely on my shoulders instead. Hopefully, some good will come of it and all of the singles in Cider Cove will succumb to Cupid’s arrows. We could use a little more lovin’ and a lot less murder around these parts. Lord knows we’ve had our fair share of homicides as of late.
Georgie takes off in a fury just as Deputy Leo Granger strides into the reception area looking dapper with a pair of jeans and a sports coat on top. Leo is a tall, dark-haired man with a wily smile and a devious gleam in his eyes. He’s the only other person on the planet that I’ve openly admitted my mindreading quirk to, but only because he can do it, too. And by his side stands Mayor Mackenzie Woods, my one time best friend who thought it was a good idea to try to drown me while we were in middle school, thus landing me in this mind reading predicament to begin with.
Hello, Bizzy. Leo smiles my way as they pass me. I hope you’ll join the fun. Just because you’re dating Jasper doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time.
Very funny. I make a face at him. Leo and Jasper used to be best friends once upon a time until Leo thought it was a good idea to steal Jasper’s fiancée away from him. They’ve been on the outs ever since.
I nod over to both Leo and Mackenzie as they proceed to the singles mingle event taking place in the ballroom. Technically, Leo and Mack are already an established couple. I’m betting they’re here because Mackenzie feels the need to say a few words. Cider Cove has endured a long line of mayors with the surname Woods, stemming all the way back to her great-grandfather.
Let’s be honest. Nostalgia secured her the position when she ran for office, and her own incessant need for attention was the driving force that led her to run in the first place.
Mack is no mayoral angel. Not only did she try to kill me when we were kids, but she proceeded to steal every boyfriend I had in high school. Thankfully, my latest and greatest boyfriend is virtually swipe-proof. I just so happen to be dating the hottest homicide detective in all of Maine, maybe the country, so I’m not single by a long shot. But since I happen to run the Country Cottage Inn, I’ll be
heading into the ballroom to see what the singles mingle shenanigans are all about.
I sigh dreamily just thinking about Jasper—Detective Jasper Wilder. Tall, dark hair, icy gray eyes that demand the attention of every woman in a ten-mile radius, a body built for a SEAL team, and a dangerous smile that you need to work to extract from him. Jasper doesn’t know that I have the uncanny ability to pry into his mind, but he does know I have a deep secret I’ve been keeping from him. And just about a week ago, I let him know that it was time I shared my secret. And as soon as the moon, the sun, the planets, and the stars line up—and maybe a few shots of something strong that will burn its way down my esophagus—I’ll do just that. Here’s hoping I don’t chicken out.
I won’t, but believe me I want to.
Jasper is out at the moment helping his mother assess her condo. His mother’s place flooded a few months back and she’s been staying right here at the inn while her home gets an overhaul. His mother, Gwyneth, and I had a rocky start to our relationship, but it’s been a bit better as of late. She was actually going to marry my father on Christmas Eve, after an all too brief whirlwind—romance would be too strong of a word—more like a casual hello, but cooler heads prevailed and they’re going to try out this thing called an engagement. I’ll admit, the thought of my father engaged to my boyfriend’s mother is just plain weird.
A woman bustles through the crowd as she edges her way to the reception counter. Her pale hair is slightly frazzled. Her complexion is pale, too, for the most part, but she has a pop of bright pink lipstick that breathes some life into her face.
She gives a sideways glance toward the ballroom where a majority of the well-dressed crowd is funneling its way into. I’d bet good money I was the only one here tonight in an effort to please my mother.
The wary blonde adjusts her dark blazer. She has a button-down blouse underneath that rises to her neck, and she seems dressed more for a business meeting than she is a night of flirtatious fun. She looks a touch older than me. Early thirties, I’m guessing.
“Hello, welcome to the Country Cottage Inn,” I trill in the same sing-songy voice I’ve used for the last half hour straight to greet the masses. “Are you here for the singles event?” I point toward the ballroom where a large banner reads Welcome to the Blind Date with Cupid Singles Mingle!
I bet it was her mother who told her all about it and then forced her to come. I was single for a good long while and my own mother tried her best to find me a perfect match. Lucky for me, I happened to stumble upon one last fall, right after I stumbled upon a dead body.
My fingers ride to my lips as if I had spoken the words out loud. That’s not exactly what I was trying to say. It may have happened in that order, but I’d like to think Jasper and I would have landed in one another’s arms whether or not there was a corpse to bring us together.
The blonde in front of me sheds a tight smile. “Yes, I am here for the event.” She leans in. There’s a hint of anger in her coffee-colored eyes, but she has an open face and lips that easily glide in the right direction. She seems nice enough. “You wouldn’t happen to know if Lad Warner has arrived yet, do you? He’s one of the developers of Dependable.” She makes a face. “It’s the dating app that’s sponsoring the event. Their slogan is romance on demand.”
“Lad?” I shake my head, unaware of any other developer for that dating app that’s responsible for tonight’s couples’ catastrophe in the making. “Do you mean Elvis? Elvis Hendrix?” I still can’t get past his dicey pseudonym. This is his party tonight and the guests are all people who subscribe to his dating app, Dependable.
She shakes her head. “Lad is his partner in Cupid crime. I’m sure I’ll find him soon enough.” She glares over at the ballroom. And when I do, I just might kill him.
A bemused smile quivers on my lips.
She takes off with the rest of the crowd streaming toward the ballroom, and a part of me wonders how worried I should be. It’s not like Cider Cove hasn’t had its fair share of homicides in the last few months. But then again, saying you’re going to kill someone is nothing more than a well-worn euphemism these days.
I take a look around at the interior of the inn. Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away and we’ve gone all out with the pink and red metallic hearts pasted up in every free space. The inn itself has a dark wooden interior that gives it a cozy feel, and every time I set foot inside, it feels as if the inn itself were giving me a hug. The floors are a distressed shade of gray, and there’s a grand wrought iron stairwell that leads to the second story. The doors and wainscoting of the expansive foyer are a rich, dark wood heavily inlaid with carvings. The ballroom to my right has seen just about every celebration you can imagine, and there’s even a formal dining room for the guests of the facility. The Cottage Café that sits on the back end of the building leads right to the sandy shores of Cider Cove and is open to guests and the public as well. And just like the inn itself, all animals are welcome there, too.
The entry to the inn is framed with pink twinkle lights and an oversized tulle wreathe dotted with pink and red hearts sits over each door. I love how frilly the world gets as we collectively lose our minds in the name of love this time of year. And lucky for me, it’s my first year in a long time that I actually get to celebrate it with a love of my own.
“Bizzy?” Nessa Crosby strides up from the ballroom. “You should check out that shindig. And then after you’re done checking it out, I want to check it out again. Unlike you, I’m still single, you know.” She snips out that last part as if it were entirely my fault.
Nessa is a pretty brunette with lashes longer than should ever be legal, a pert little nose, and perfect bowtie lips. I’ve known Nessa all my life. I went to school with both her sister and her cousin, Emmie—the latter of which is officially my BFF.
Grady pops up behind her. “Why don’t you both head on over? I’ve seen about all I need.”
Grady Pennington is a dark-haired, blue-eyed Irish heartbreaker. Both he and Nessa have been working at the inn ever since they graduated from college a while back. They keep insisting this is just a stepping-stone on the way to their real careers, but if they ever leave the inn I’ll be lost without them. They’re not only handy to have around, but after all the blood, sweat, and tears we’ve been through—and with the killings that have taken place here—they’ve become like family.
“By the way”— Grady lifts a finger my way—“I just saw the email you sent about the new gazebo that’s being delivered. Great idea.”
“Brilliant idea,” Nessa adds. “A gazebo overlooking the bluff? Couples will be lining up to use it as a wedding venue. Consider the inn booked into the foreseeable future.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And thanks for watching the front desk, Grady. I won’t be long,” I say as I head on over to the ballroom with Nessa.
I’ve been the manager here at the inn for years now and I consider it my baby. It’s actually owned by a wealthy earl in England, but he has little to nothing to do with it. I’ve fallen in love with this expansive mansion whose grounds cover acres and acres. Outside of the inn there are over three dozen cottages that dot the vicinity and I happen to live in one. Jasper lives right in front of me and I rather like the proximity.
Nessa giggles as we come upon the entry to the saucy soiree.
“I can’t believe you got Fish and Sherlock to sit at the door like that. There’s not a soul who’s passed by that can resist them,” she says as she heads on into the venue without me.
A giggle rides up my own throat at the sight of the adorable twosome.
Fish happens to be the stray kitten I found and fell in love with almost a year ago. She’s a black and white longhaired tabby who is both witty and sharp as a whip. And Sherlock Bones is a red and white freckled mixed-breed pup that happens to belong to Jasper. Thankfully, Fish and Sherlock seem to get along fine—for the most part.
Fish lets out a yowl. Whose idea was this light up collar?
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My lips curve with a private smile. There certainly is a perk to hearing people’s thoughts—I can hear the thoughts of animals, too. And believe me when I say, nine times out of ten I’d rather listen to what they have to say instead of my human counterparts.
Fish wraps herself around my ankles. I’m going to dream in pink and red, Bizzy. And we both know if I don’t have a good night’s rest, neither will you.
“Good Lord, nothing is truer than that,” I whisper. Especially considering the fact she sleeps right on top of my head on most nights.
I pick her up and offer a quick kiss just above her nose.
“How about one more hour and then I’ll take you straight home and give you an extra helping of dinner?”
She purrs as loud as a jet engine. The things I do for love.
“And for your Fancy Beast cat food,” I whisper as I land her back to the ground.
Sherlock gives a little bark. I’m not sure how, but they seem to understand one another just fine. Sherlock has a bright red bow around his neck and looks every bit the special gift he is.
I don’t mind staying, Bizzy, Sherlock howls. And I don’t mind the bow, either. I know you’ll more than bacon up for it.
I’d correct him on his grammar, but we all know he’s right. With some pets, their currency is love. With Sherlock, it is very much bacon.