Murder Bites

by Addison Moore

  It took both Leo and me to help Macy and Emmie stagger their way into the monochromatic world before us and into the suspect processing center. The floors, the furniture, and the counter all share the same white with navy stripe. There’s a handful of deputies mingling about, looking official with papers in hand.

  A few ornery looking men and women stand behind the counter before us and I can’t help but note they look as if they’d rather spend their evening getting a root canal. Which is an idea I could totally get onboard with. I’d rather see Jasper at work as a visitor than an incarcerated member of dysfunctional society.

  “I can’t believe you landed us here,” I say as I jab Macy in the ribs with my finger.

  “Ow!” She pulls Emmie forward like a human shield. “I don’t even knows whys we’re heres!” Her voice hikes to stratospherical levels.

  “The fact you can’t piece together an intelligible sentence should be your first clue.” I turn to find Leo speaking to someone behind the desk. “Leo,” I hiss his name like a reprimand. “You and I both know I don’t belong here, and neither do they. I could have easily thrown them into the back of my own paddy wagon and had them in Cider Cove by now.”

  He tips his head back, examining me with pursed lips. “Now what fun would that have been? Don’t worry, Biz. Jasper’s still on the premises.” He turns and nods to someone across the way. “Camila, I need Jasper. Bizzy’s been detained.”

  “Ugh.” Why does it genuinely feel as if I’m socked in the stomach each time I hear her name? “Leo, we both know she won’t help in that department. If she had her way, she’d lock me up and throw away the key. Now give me back my purse and I’ll call him myself.”

  Leo confiscated our things as soon as he threw us into the back of his patrol car—something about making sure we didn’t have any contraband.

  “Can’t,” he says it flat. “I haven’t searched it for weapons yet.”

  “Good Lord, you are going to get an earful and a fistful, and maybe the working end of a baseball bat the next time you try to enter the inn.”

  A dark laugh erupts from him as he holds up his hands.

  “All right, all right.” He sheds a wide grin. “I’ll get Jasper myself.”

  No sooner does he leave than Camila shows up with that wicked smile smeared across her face like the smudge of sarcasm it is. Her dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail and her lips are a ruby shade of red that would look garish on me, but, as fate and good genetics would have it, looks amazing on her. She’s donned a low-cut red sweater, a tight pencil skirt that forces her to walk like a mermaid, and pin thin sky-high heels. She looks much more suited for Fashion Week in New York, or a hot date, than she does to pull a nine-to-five behind the desk at the sheriff’s department. It’s not until I get a closer look at her nametag that I gasp.

  “Homicide division secretary?” I choke on the salty choice of words begging to stream from my lips. “Boy, you work fast.”

  “That I do.” She gives the brass plate on her chest a quick tap. “I always get what I want, Bizzy. Don’t forget that.”

  Emmie belches like a frat boy as she falls over Macy for support, and Camila wastes no time in laughing at the two of them.

  “Oh, what a show.” She holds out her hands and claps their way and they take a rather unceremonious bow that has them stumbling to a nearby bench. “How about you, Bizzy? Did you flash your chest at Deputy Granger, too? I heard there was public nudity involved when he called it in over the airwaves.”

  “Nope, I bared my fangs, sort of the way I’m doing right now. I don’t belong here and neither do they.”

  She clucks her tongue. “If I had a dime for every time I heard someone in the processing center say those words. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Jasper’s not lonely while you’re doing time in the big house. ”

  “Please, as if he would ever want to spend time with you.”

  Before she can offer up a rebuttal, my tall, dark, and vexingly handsome boyfriend appears with an eyebrow hiked.

  “Bizzy?” When Leo said he had a surprise, this is not what I envisioned.

  “Jasper.” I leap over and wrap myself around his warm, strong body. The woodsy scent of his cologne alone makes me feel safe—and somewhat anxious to pull him into the nearest corner and have my way with him.

  A small bark emits from his side, and I look to find Sherlock Bones making himself known.

  Bizzy? Did you stop by to rescue me? Did you bring bacon? His old girl beast is here. And she’s threatened to chop my tail off if I keep wagging it!

  He tucks it between his legs as if he were still fearful Camila might be wielding a pair of scissors as he speaks.

  “Sherlock,” I say and bend over and kiss his sweet face. “Nobody is chopping off your tail,” I whisper before straightening.

  Camila leans toward Jasper. “Thank you for lunch. It was wonderful. It’s nice to know you still like spending time with me.” Her dark eyes cut my way. I guess there is still someone who doesn’t mind spending time with me, and he just happens to be your boyfriend. For now.

  My lips part as I look up at him.

  He shakes his head as she makes her way back to her hidey-hole, which unfortunately for me is right next to his hidey-hole.

  I wonder if Jasper would be up for a career change anytime soon? Although it’s no use. She’ll just do what she does best: stalk him into oblivion.

  “I’ll explain later.” He grimaces my way. It looks bad. But hopefully once I let her know it was a bear trap I fell into, she’ll understand. A bear trap that I will never fall into again.

  “No need to explain. I trust you.” And I can read your mind, I want to add.

  I shrug as if it were no big deal, and in a way it isn’t.

  Leo quickly gives him the rundown on why we’re here.

  “You went to a bar in Edison?” Jasper gives me the side eye as if he were trying to put the real pieces together per our earlier conversation. “Wait a minute.” He ticks his head back. “Leo, this bar wouldn’t happen to be on Union Street, would it?”

  Leo nods. “That would be it.”

  Macy raises her blonde mop. “Theys got strip clubs, too!”

  “Good Lord.” I shake my head at Jasper. “Wes didn’t go to a strip club.”

  A smile curls into the corner of his lips. “I know. You went to the Carter Art Center, didn’t you?”

  “Boy, you really are a good detective.” I bite down over my lip flirtatiously. “Go easy on me, Officer. I’m a first-time offender.”

  “Leo”—he turns to look his way—“why don’t you go ahead and drive Macy and Emmie back home? Help them get settled. I’ve got a suspect interrogation I need to get to concerning the Warner case.”

  “Ooh, can I come?” A thrill tingles from my head to my toes at the prospect.

  “Of course.” Jasper wraps his arm around me. “That suspect would be you.”

  “You’re not funny,” I say as I give his tie a quick tug.

  “How about dinner?” There’s an unforgiveable twinkle in his silver eyes that every last part of me has grown to appreciate.

  “Dragon Express?” I tip my head at the mention of our old standby. Jasper and I enjoy takeout from there at least three times a week.

  “I was thinking about something a bit more formal. You know, for processing purposes.”

  “Sounds good, Detective. Maybe we can swing by Edison to pick up my car?”

  “Then that’s the plan.”

  I leave Macy and Emmie in Leo’s capable, albeit wily, hands as Jasper, Sherlock, and I head out into the frozen February night.

  I’m ready for romance—and a little physical interrogation from the sexiest homicide detective in all of New England.

  Once we pick my car up, we take Sherlock back to my cottage to spend some time with Fish and Cinnamon. I already have Georgie popping in for the evening to feed and let them out. She mentioned she was going to teach them poker, and I let her know that was on
her.

  After I freshen up a bit, Jasper drives us out to what he refers to as a “secret location”. It turns out, that secret location is in Whaler’s Warf. And as soon as we park, he leads us to a snazzy seafood restaurant called the Blue Crab Seafood Grill.

  Jasper and I enter the dimly lit establishment and are seated next to the window where we can see the boats docked in the harbor just a stone’s throw away. On the table sits a heart-shaped votive candle and there’s a tiny cutout of Cupid adhered to the window next to us, signifying that indeed it is the most romantic time of the year.

  We each opt for the special, and as the waitress takes off to fill our orders, Jasper reaches across the table and takes up my hand.

  “Bizzy”—there’s an apologetic sternness in his eyes—“I have to ask again, this time for the record. What happened that night? Tell me the exact timeline of events as you remember them.”

  “The night of the singles mingle.” I nod. “I went into the ballroom and I was talking to Georgie and Elvis Hendrix—he’s the organizer—when Emily and Lad came along. Georgie thought Emily was Lad’s mother and it was really embarrassing, but that was quickly cleared up. They’re engaged, or at least they were. Anyway, Emily really seemed to like him.”

  His chest bounces with a laugh. “I should hope so. She was about to marry the guy.”

  “Well, I’ll get back to that in a minute, and you won’t believe what I have to say about it.” He sheds an amused smile before I continue. “Then he spots some guy in a suit, by the door, and makes the comment that this suit guy, Colt, has poor timing.” I leave out the part about that being just a thought. “So he takes off and Emily notices her hemline is a few inches longer than the rest of the women’s in the room and she takes off to hike up her skirt. But before she can get too far, her daughter, Paige, intercepts her. Which is a good thing because Paige was looking for them when she arrived.” I lean in. “Actually, she was looking for Lad, and she specifically said she could kill him, which according to Madeline is something she says a lot. Anyway, I’ll get to that, too. And then—”

  “Whoa, whoa.” He signals for a time-out with his hands. “You are by far the cutest amateur sleuth I’ve ever met in my life.”

  “Hey? Who are you calling an amateur, buddy?”

  Jasper belts out a laugh and there’s a twinkle in his gray eyes that fills me with warmth.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers through a pained smile. What I wouldn’t do to make this beautiful woman my wife.

  A breath hitches in my throat.

  “Jasper,” I whisper without meaning to.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh.” I startle back to reality. “I, um, didn’t get to tell you about Madeline. She ran into me while I was holding Cinnamon. That’s Lad’s labradoodle. She’s the one that taught the art class I took Macy and Emmie to tonight. It was a sip and paint, and sort of an all-around disaster as you witnessed. Anyway, back to the night of the killing. Madeline was seen running from the front doors of the inn. And after the murder—”

  He nods. “Madeline was in the ballroom. I know. I spoke with her briefly that evening. I got the feeling she very much had strong feelings for Lad.”

  “Try an affair.”

  He tips his head. “She told you that?”

  “Not in so many words. Oh, and there was a redhead that night—”

  “Natalie Weiland.” He twists his lips. “Runs a bookstore in Seaview.”

  “Ooh, a bookstore,” I coo. “Colt told me she was with Lad at some point—as in romantically involved.”

  “Really? It sounds like Lad got around.”

  “He certainly had a past. But that’s not the strangest part.” I lean in. “I talked to Emily after the murder and she expressed she was putting on a show, that she would have to wait until she got home to express her rage.”

  Jasper leans back a notch. “Let me guess. She said that in not so many words?”

  An exasperated sigh expels from me. “Yes.”

  “Bizzy, how are you surmising these things? Are you some kind of expert in reading body language?”

  “Only yours.” I give a sly wink. I read their minds. Which brings me to my next point. This is the perfect opportunity to tell him. I give a quick glance around at the other patrons. Okay, so it’s not exactly ideal. I should probably do this back at my place, and seeing that Jasper is at my place just about every other night when I’m not at his place that shouldn’t be a problem. Although, in my defense, we find far more interesting ways of entertaining ourselves. And filling him in on my supernatural status is never at the top of the list.

  “Hey.” He pulls my hand forward and gives it a kiss. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m in love with you, Bizzy. You mean everything to me. And yes, you are intuitive. But I’m afraid…” There’s an edge to his voice as he says it. “I’m afraid you’re going to find yourself in a very dangerous situation if you keep this up—one that I won’t be able to help you out of.”

  “I promise”—I lean forward as far as the table will allow—“I didn’t and I won’t put myself in a dangerous situation. There were at least a hundred women at that sip and paint tonight. Okay, so that’s a slight exaggeration. More like fifty. I wasn’t alone with Madeline. And, if I happen to stumble upon another suspect, I’ll make sure I’m not alone with them either.”

  “Bizzy, I couldn’t live with myself if I gave you the go-ahead to be in the same vicinity with another suspect. Why are you so bent on pursuing this?”

  “Because I’m a suspect.”

  Jasper’s jaw redefines itself. “Did you kill Lad Warner that night at the inn?”

  “No.” It streams from me with a marked exasperation, and a few people at a nearby table pause to turn this way.

  “Then I formally clear you from the suspect list.” A devilish grin glides up his cheek. “You have no reason to pursue this case any longer. Let me do my job, Bizzy. I’m good at it. I promise I will catch this killer.”

  The food arrives before I can offer up a formal rebuttal.

  Jasper and I indulge in a surf and turf meal to end all meals on land or sea and we don’t hesitate to hit the dessert as well.

  Jasper taps my finger. “What was it that you were going to tell me?”

  “Oh”—I wince over at bodies filling up the establishment—“it can wait.”

  His glowing eyes search my features and I can genuinely feel his affection for me.

  If she says it can wait, it can wait. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve got a lifetime. And soon enough, I’m hoping she’ll agree.

  My gaze locks over his.

  Jasper is thinking about taking our relationship to the next level. That means I owe him answers to questions he doesn’t even know to ask.

  It looks as if time is running out. I need to do this. I want to.

  I’ll make sure it’s the first order of business in the next few days—right after I talk to Paige Carter.

  Madeline might be trying to set her up for Lad’s murder because she tried to get her fired, but those thoughts Paige had the night of the murder were suspicious in and of themselves—thinking if only she could fake feeling sick, she might be home free?

  Free from what?

  Logic would dictate murder.

  Chapter 7

  February carries a chill in the air, frosty enough to hold the promise of another ice age. And the brisk winds only seem to be picking up today. Jordy is outside of the inn, trimming the bushes, and I’m about to step out to speak with him about a complaint of a leak when Georgie bustles in through the doors, and by her side is a dark-haired fiend with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

  “Elvis Hendrix.” I drum up a half-hearted smile. “Welcome back to the Country Cottage Inn. Hello, Georgie. What are the two of you up to this afternoon?”

  Fish jumps down from the counter and wraps herself around my ankles until I scoop her up into my arms.

  Is this the killer, Bizzy?


  I shrug down at her.

  Sherlock and Cinnamon lift their heads our way with half-closed eyes before deciding to continue with their naps.

  Georgie’s wiry mane is windblown and her purple and gold kaftan sits askew as she struggles to straighten it.

  She nods my way. “Elvis wanted to take another look at the ballroom if that’s all right with you. His next shindig is already trending on the Dependable app. All of his users are excited to see how he’s going to top that murderous blind date with Cupid.” She leans in. “Only, they’re calling it a blind date with the Grim Reaper.”

  “Wow, okay. Sure,” I say, looking up at the older man dressed in a tie-dyed T-shirt with a thermal on underneath to keep from catching pneumonia. “If you need any help with decorating or catering, of course, the inn will be happy to oblige.”

  Elvis cranes his neck in the direction of the ballroom. “I’m actually looking to see if the energy levels are optimal for amorous connections. There was quite a negative force field here that night. And if it hasn’t vacated the building, then I’m afraid I’ll have to find somewhere else to host the event.”

  Georgie links arms with him and pulls him close. “Don’t you worry, big boy. I’ve got my sage and a lighter. We’ll have all that negative juju up in smoke in no time.”

  “And the inn along with it. No to the sage,” I’m quick to protest.

  Fish yowls as she jumps from my arms. Sherlock, Cinnamon! Georgie is about to burn the building down! She runs their way in a panic.

  “Elvis?” I take a step closer to him. “What do you think happened to Lad that night? It was a pretty violent end.”

  He takes in a breath as he shakes his head. “I wish I had an answer. Lad was a good guy.”

  Georgie gives his arm a tug. “Even good guys have enemies. Who hated the guy enough to pull the trigger? You didn’t do it, did you?” She looks my way and winks. I’ll prove to you yet, I’m not dating a killer.

  Elvis bucks with a laugh. “It wasn’t me. I can assure you of that. You of all people should know I’m a lover, not a fighter.”