Murder Bites

by Addison Moore

The girl flinches when I mention Emily.

  Rub it in, why don’t you? I hate that old hag. She should go next.

  “Yes, that’s exactly how I met him.” She takes off for the crowd headed to the back of the ballroom.

  “You’ll have to leave your number with the deputy on your way out.” I raise my voice just a notch. She just might have done it. And if she did, Emily might be next.

  Speaking of Emily, I spot her with her daughter by the refreshment table and they’re both noshing on those delectable raspberry cheesecake bites.

  Odd. But I suppose people grieve in different ways. Typically, a person goes into shock once they hear news like this and they can’t eat for days. But then, some people eat their feelings. And face it, there aren’t a lot of things that cheesecake can’t make better.

  “Emily,” I say as I come upon the two of them. “Are you aware of what happened?”

  She glances to the ceiling. “Lad is dead.” She lets out a horrid moan. “And they won’t let me leave or see him.” I’ve seen enough, but I’ve got to put on a show. I’ll save my anger for when I get home. Although, a bullet to the chest does wonders to quell the rage. It was a good shot. A kill shot they call it.

  My mouth falls open. And to think I was about to ask if she wanted to take Cinnamon home.

  Instead, I hold the tiny peanut just a little bit tighter.

  Paige offers a weak smile. “I’m not feeling well. I think I might pass out.”

  I quickly procure a chair for her and a glass of water.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. Now if I can fake my way home, I might just be home free.

  “Oh my goodness,” I mutter to myself, but both Emily and Paige look my way. “It just occurred to me that one of you might have been the last to see him alive.” I shrug. “You know, before the killer found him.” Unless, of course, I’m looking at the killer. Both of them sound guilty enough to me.

  Emily and Paige exchange a quick glance.

  Emily clears her throat. “Would you mind getting me a glass of water as well, while I try to remember?”

  “Sure thing.” I take off for the refreshment table and spot the man in the suit that Lad was having it out with. He’s talking to the redhead that I saw Lad with earlier.

  It’s as if some invisible force were moving me in their direction and I can’t seem to stop myself.

  “Hello,” I say. “I’m Bizzy Baker. I run the inn. I’m just going around to all of the guests here tonight and seeing how they’re faring.”

  “Terrible,” says the redhead before she offers a short-lived smile my way. Her lipstick looks smudged. Her mascara does, too. “I’d better get going. I have an early shift tomorrow.” She glances at her phone for the time.

  “Oh?” I lean in. “Where do you work?”

  Her gaze falls to Cinnamon a moment and I try to pry into her mind, but it’s all white fuzz. Usually it’s indicative of inappropriate thoughts, but at times like these, shock can set it off as well.

  “I’m sorry. I work at a bookshop in Seaview. I have a shipment of new releases and I need to stock the floor.” She gives the man in the suit a hard look. “Goodnight, Colt. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

  That was an odd thing to say.

  The man in the suit, Colt, glowers at her a moment.

  “Goodnight, Natalie,” he growls it out. “I’d say the same, but I’m not feeling so generous. Not even tonight.” God, especially not tonight. He turns my way. “I’m sorry, Bizzy. I’ll need to make a few phone calls. Lad and I were once related. My aunt married his uncle. The family is going to be a mess.” I’ll be fine. If there was anyone who was better off dead, it was Lad. Poor guy. He should have seen this coming.

  He starts to take off and I pull him back by the sleeve. “Um, the girl, I didn’t get her name.”

  He glances in the general direction she took off in.

  “Natalie Weiland.” He shakes his head. She’s been nothing but a bag full of trouble from start to finish. And yet, a part of me still wishes she and Lad were still together. Those were simpler times. Hell, I wish that I were still with Nat. Those were even better times. “You had a nice party here tonight.” He nods as he takes a step away. Too bad Lad had to go and ruin it.

  “What was your last name? And your occupation?” I ask, hoping he’ll take the same bait.

  “Ferguson.” He frowns into the crowd. “I work for a bank.” He takes off into the crowd and it’s just Cinnamon and me as the inner voices of those around us begin to fill my head.

  Lad Warner bit the big one.

  A bullet to the chest.

  Some might say he deserved to die. I would be one of them.

  He’s gone. And now I have to live with his blood on my hands for the rest of my life. Who knew there would be a murder here tonight?

  Me.

  That’s who.

  Chapter 4

  “Did you know there were white chocolate chips tucked inside these luscious raspberry cheesecake bites?” Georgie waves one at me as if she were wielding a threat. Her wiry gray hair surrounds her head like a silver pompom, giving off that freshly electrocuted look this morning. Her baby pink kaftan is rather low-cut and is decorated with tiny red sequin hearts. There’s something both charming and alarming about it.

  It’s the very next day after that awful tragedy, and despite the fact the Country Cottage Café is bustling with guests, outside the window I see dark clouds brewing above the Atlantic.

  “I sure do know all about those yummy little nuggets,” I say to Emmie who just popped up beside me at the counter. “The white chocolate chips were my bright idea.”

  Georgie gives an approving wink as she pops another one into her pie hole.

  Mom and Georgie just stopped in for breakfast and wisely opted for cheesecake rather than their usual fare.

  Mom moans through a bite.

  “Bizzy, you must give me the recipe.” She gives a few rapid blinks to the ceiling while enjoying the sweet treat. Mom’s hair is perfectly petrified in the same feathered style it’s been frozen in since 1982. She’s donned a lavender sweater with a pink blouse underneath, the collar popped to her ears. That’s my mother, Ree Baker, fighting the good preppy fight, three decades strong and counting.

  “Who am I kidding?” she grunts. “I’m the one that passed down my bad baking genes your way. I’ll just keep dropping by until I weigh a thousand pounds. The cheesecake is worth it. Emmie, you’re a genius.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thank you.” Emmie laughs as she readjusts her frilly red apron with pink lace trim and heart appliques strewn throughout.

  Emmie looks well decorated for the upcoming holiday centered on love, and the café is, too. The groundskeeper, Jordy, who is not only Emmie’s brother, but my ex-husband (of less than twenty-four hours. Vegas, an Elvis impersonator, and bad Jim Beam were involved. Need I say more?) has been adhering more metallic hearts to just about every free surface than he’d like to remember. He’s in the sunroom at the moment doing just that, and each heart that goes up has me more enamored with my true love, Jasper Wilder. I truly feel as if our relationship is about to take a major turn in the right direction. I can feel it in my creaky bones. And I’m ready for it. More than ready.

  “Georgie?” I slide another cheesecake bite her way. “What did Elvis have to say about his business partner being killed?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s devastated. But he wanted me to tell you he wants to rent out the ballroom for a do-over. He’s hoping for next Saturday. He’s got a huge fiasco planned.” She shudders. “I mean fiesta.”

  Mom grunts, “I think you had it right the first time.”

  “No problem, Georgie,” I say. “It’s free and I’ll book it for him.”

  Emmie sucks in a quick breath as she looks my way. “I almost forgot to tell you. Nessa said she saw a brunette with a lime green dress running out of the inn just before you found the body. I bet that’s our killer.”

  “A
brunette with a lime green dress?” I blink back. “I saw her speaking to Lad earlier in the evening. But she was back in the ballroom well after he was killed. I spoke with her myself. Her name is Madeline Harper and she works at the art center in Edison.”

  Mom blinks to the ceiling. “That’s her first mistake. Nothing good ever happens in Edison. Did I ever tell you I met your father in Edison?”

  “No.” My mouth rounds out with surprise. “Now see there? Something good did happen in Edison.”

  Georgie lifts a finger while doing her best to inhale yet another raspberry cheesecake bite.

  “That’s where I last saw Juniper Moonbeam.” Her left eye squints heavily. “And now she’s in the big house doing the hokey pokey with a bunch of maniacal security guards. For her sake, I hope they’re cute. Maybe she can get a boyfriend out of the deal.”

  Mom shudders. “Trust me, Georgie. Nobody goes to prison hoping to get lucky. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. We’ll have to find out what she was busted for. And then we’ll have to hire an entire legal team to bust her out.”

  “Mom”—I lean her way—“that’s so nice of you to take up Juni’s plight. I mean, she was married to Dad and all.”

  Mom waves me off. “Are you kidding? She’s a part of a very exclusive sorority. I don’t mind helping an ex-Baker sister out. I’d like to think one of them would do the same for me.”

  Georgie claps her hands as she looks to the entry. “Here comes the cavalry!”

  I look to find my father and Jasper’s mother, Gwyneth, headed this way. They’ve been joined at the hip as of late, and as they should be considering they’re engaged.

  “Ladies.” Dad nods our way before offering me a firm embrace. “Bizzy Bizzy.” He’s echoed my name for as long as I can remember. Dad has full cheeks and a devilish gleam in his eyes. There’s an overall boyish charm about him that women the world over can’t seem to resist, thus the record amount of divorces he’s survived without being slaughtered.

  And Gwyneth is a gorgeous woman with skin as pale as paper, hair as black as night, and lips dipped in the blood of her latest victim. Okay, so she’s not that bad. Her glossy black hair is neatly pulled up into a bun and she’s donned a navy pantsuit with a magenta scarf tied around her neck. She’s always stylish, and always speaks her mind.

  “Georgie.” She bows her head to look over at Georgie from over the top of her glasses. “You’ve raised a criminal. But I happened to have an uncle who escaped from Alcatraz. With my blood onboard, I’m certain we can free just about any jailbird. She could have slaughtered the judge, but we’ll make sure she walks.”

  The four of them migrate off to the sunroom, murmuring about defense tactics and the vast amounts of money this jailbreak might cost them.

  Emmie leans in. “I’d better keep them caffeinated.”

  “Good idea. Take a tray of those raspberry cheesecake bites with you, too. I have a feeling they’ll need a few extra carbs to perform an Alcatraz worthy escape.”

  “Good thinking.” She heads that way just as Macy enters the café, holding both Fish and Cinnamon in her arms.

  She lets Fish jump down onto the stool at the bar.

  Bizzy, your sister lacks your delicate charm. She’s abrasive, rude, and full of bitterness and vinegar. Fish shakes out her fur. I rather like her.

  “Bizzy Baker.” My blonde sassy sis picks up Cinnamon’s paw and waves at me. “I swear if you don’t give me this dog, I’m going to disown you.”

  Cinnamon lets out a moan. She is rather abrasive, rude, and full of bitterness and vinegar. I’m not so sure about this.

  Macy’s glossy lips twist as if she understood the curly-haired pooch herself.

  She tucks her lips next to the dog’s ear. “I eat a steady diet of steak and pizza. And contrary to what that mean old witch standing here says, I like to share.”

  Fish lets out a riotous roar before shooting my sister the stink eye.

  Nobody calls Bizzy a witch but me.

  I make a face at Fish before continuing with my sister.

  “Cinnamon isn’t mine to give away. What’s going on, Macy? We both know you’re not a pet person.” I slide the plate full of raspberry cheesecake bites her way and she quickly, and might I add wisely, snaps one up. “Let me guess. You want to capitalize off Cinnamon’s cuteness to drum up business for Lather and Light?”

  She squints her disdain over at me. “I’ll have you know, business is brisk. I’m having a two-for-one sale on all heart-shaped bath bombs.”

  “Ooh,” I coo. “I might stop by myself.”

  “You won’t be able to.” She leans in, a smile swimming on her lips. “I know you’re off to investigate, and I want in on this good time. Where to now, Bizzy? The midnight review down in Edison? I’m your girl. I’ll put away my marvelous morals and watch a bunch of men strutting around in banana hammocks. So feel free to cast Georgie and Emmie to the side.” She gives a long blink. “I’ll take one for the team.”

  Emmie hops back to the counter and snatches Fish off the stool in front of her.

  “What’s going on?” she asks. “Why does Macy look as if she’s about to bite into a side of beefcake?”

  “Because she’s delusional,” I tell her. “She thinks I’m bringing her along on my investigation.”

  Emmie gets that squirrely look in her eyes that usually means she’s up to no good, or at least she’s hoping to be.

  She bites down on her lip. “Where are we going, Biz?”

  Macy shoves her elbow to Emmie’s side. “I call the strip club.”

  “I’m not going to a strip club.” I pull out my phone and look up the Carter Art Center in Edison. “I’m going to a sip and paint art class tonight at four-thirty. It looks like we’ll be working with acrylics.”

  “What?” Macy snatches the phone from me. “Oh my God, this place boasts of a bottomless glass of vino! There’s no way you’re evicting me from this.”

  Emmie peers over her shoulder. “Red or white wine? I’m a chardonnay girl myself. Bizzy, since you don’t drink, you can be the designated driver.”

  I pluck my phone back. “Fine. Just promise you’ll keep your nose to the acrylic grindstone and I’ll let you tag along.”

  Macy gives a wry smile. “I’ll go as far as pitching for the classes. At least that way, I can still feel like I’m in charge.”

  I tip my head to the side. “Has anyone ever told you that you have some serious control issues?”

  “Only every date I’ve ever been on. And I’m damn proud of it, too.”

  A six-foot-two wall of muscles bound in a dark gray suit with an adorable mutt springing by his side strides into the café and casts those dreamy gray eyes my way.

  “Jasper’s here,” I hiss as I take Cinnamon from Emmie. “Time to commence Operation Distraction. Sorry,” I whisper in the curly pup’s ear. “But you’re my first line of defense.”

  I head on over and give Sherlock Bones his morning back scratch.

  Thanks, Bizzy. I see Georgie in the sunroom. Is it too late to beg for breakfast?

  “You’re in luck, Sherlock. There’s a run of bacon in the kitchen. I’ll have Emmie bring out your breakfast.”

  He lets out an approving bark. You’re a beautiful soul, Bizzy. And I’ll miss you when I’m gone. Jasper has threatened to take me to work with him today.

  My mouth squares out over at Jasper. “Why do I get the feeling you’re taking Sherlock to the department today?”

  His brows meet in the middle, but there’s a smile rising on his lips just for me.

  “Because you are one intuitive lady.”

  I offer him a lingering kiss right over his lips. Jasper’s cologne is thick and full-bodied as if it were just applied, and I know for a fact he’s fresh from the shower because I can still smell the soap on his skin.

  I bat my lashes up at him flirtatiously.

  “Hey, hot stuff.” I take a page out of Macy’s playbook and wave at him with Cinnamon’s paw. “What
’s cooking?”

  His brows narrow in like a couple of birds in flight. Why do I get the feeling Bizzy’s got something cooking?

  “Just ducking out for the day and wanted to do this.” He wraps his arms around me and lands another sizzler onto my mouth. “I’m afraid I’ve got to work late.”

  I twist my lips. “I guess that axes dinner. And believe me, I’d much rather be with you. But as it turns out, I’ll be plenty entertained.”

  “You will? What’s cooking with you?” He pulls back and examines me. Yup. There it is. That wild look in her eyes she gets just before she jumps into trouble with both feet.

  My mouth falls open and I can’t help but frown at him.

  “I’m having drinks with Macy and Emmie later this afternoon.” I wrinkle my nose. “But since I don’t really drink, I’m sort of the self-appointed designated driver.”

  His lips part as if he were about to ask the next logical question—where, but thankfully, Jordy nods my way and heads over, holding what appears to be several torn pieces of paper pinched between his fingers. Jordy is essentially Emmie in male skin. Dark wavy hair, icy blue eyes, and skin that holds a warm tan all year round. He’s a playboy at heart, but as of late he’s let Camila Ryder use and abuse him, and he’s more than liked it, too.

  “Hey, Biz.” He nods to Jasper as well.

  “Is this about the gazebo?” I ask. “I can hardly wait to get it delivered.” My lips twitch as I look to Jasper. “As soon as it arrives, I think we should christen it with a picnic.” And a few steamy kisses, but I’m sure Jordy doesn’t care to hear it.

  Jasper’s brows hitch, but before he can respond Jordy shakes his head.

  “The gazebo is still on its way.” He looks to Jasper as he holds out the shredded paper in his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I found this next to one of the trashcans in the ballroom. The sheriff’s department cleared the area, and I thought I’d get around to cleaning the place up. I just thought it was odd.” He holds out the colorful shreds for us to inspect. “It’s a pamphlet from some resort.”

  I quickly pull out my phone and take a picture of it.