Murder Bites

by Addison Moore

  I shake my head. “In fact, when I realized who you were, I thought you might have those answers. You mentioned you were family.”

  “By marriage. But the family doesn’t understand it either. It’s a real head scratcher.”

  A tiny bark comes from my bag. Ask him about the ways he used to help Lad. Sure, they argued some, but then, Lad argued with just about everyone. Except for me. He was kind and gentle, even when I had what he called accidents all over the house.

  Colt cocks his head, his eyes flashing from side to side. “Did you hear that? It sounded like a bark.”

  “It’s just the music,” I say. “I think it’s some new record spinning technique. Very annoying. I keep thinking I hear a dog barking, too.”

  He squints over at me. “Maybe. I don’t listen to that junk. I’m a smooth jazz man myself. But my cousin, Marty, likes the atmosphere to be popping, so I let him pick the music.”

  “Did Marty know Lad?”

  “Everyone knew Lad.”

  “Oh right. That explains all the people stopping by the inn to leave flowers by the fountain.”

  “Really?” he looks stunned by this floral revelation. “That’s nice.”

  “Yes, it is.” It’s also not true—with the exception of one person, but it does help segue into my next line of thought. “Natalie came by.” I let it sink in a moment. He wasn’t her biggest fan the night of the murder. “And some man who said he was his bookie.” The lie came out just as easy as the truth.

  “James?” He leans back in disbelief. “The guy’s in Vegas.”

  Shoot.

  I offer up a casual shrug. “Come to think of it, he might have said these are from his bookie.”

  “That’s more like it. And Nat, huh?” He shakes his head at the thought. “That was his ex. They were together a long time. I thought they were lifers. But they weren’t the best for one another.”

  That night at the inn I distinctly remember Colt thinking that Natalie was a bag of trouble. That she and Lad were good for one another. That Colt, himself, still wished they were together. And not only that, but that he still wished he and Natalie were still together, too. It sounds like Natalie Weiland really gets around.

  “Did they argue a lot?” I do my best to prod while Cinnamon begins to wiggle like mad.

  He winces. “No, it wasn’t that. Natalie didn’t like how he was handling his finances. She was the more levelheaded between the two. But she was insecure—always thinking she was about to be replaced. It’s what made Lad walk away. A guy can only take so many accusations.” It’s what made me walk away, too. But, in my case, the accusations were true. I never said I was an innocent man. I’m pretty sure if this little hottie knew what I was capable of, she wouldn’t be batting those baby blues my way. Little does she know, she could ask for the numbers on my credit card and I would give them to her. I couldn’t deny this little cupcake a single thing.

  Good to know, Colt. I bat my lashes up at him. Because I’m about to ask for the holy grail.

  “Natalie mentioned something about you loaning Lad money. That was very nice of you.” I bite down on my lower lip flirtatiously. “It’s a rare man who has spare change to lend out to those in need.”

  His chest expands with pride. “Lad didn’t need it. Not in the way he thought. But we’re family. I would have given him more money if he thought it could help.” At thirty percent interest, how could I not? “But Natalie?” he glowers at the exit a moment. “He was better off without her. Emily—that was his new fiancée.” His eyes enlarge for a moment. “I’m sorry. I still don’t understand what was happening there. She was a nice lady. Her daughter was a pistol. But that whole relationship sort of came out of left field.”

  I nod as if I felt the same way. “Natalie said he was in it for the money.” Here’s hoping the shark and the bookworm don’t exchange notes. “From what I understand, he had a pretty bad gambling problem. Money leaking from his bank account like a sieve. And if Emily has anything, it’s money.”

  “You’re not wrong there.” He sighs. “Lad had a good heart and a brain full of mush. Actually, I take that back. He was a smart man—too smart for his own good. That’s what a gambling addiction does to you. It convinces you that the next win will be all you need. And that it will be your last bet. But it never works out that way. Humans are a greedy bunch.”

  Cinnamon lets out a riotous bark, and this time Colt all but spins me around.

  “Whoa, you got a dog in there?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize he was with me until it was too late.”

  Holy heck. He squints over at Cinnamon and reaches out to pet him.

  His eyes flash my way. “This is Lad’s dog, isn’t it?”

  “What?” My heart jackknifes. He’s going to think I’m some sort of freak, stalking Lad from the grave. A morbid groupie obsessed with a corpse. “No. Actually, it’s from the same litter. A friend of mine had them and Lad took the runt. This is Rusty. I got the pick of the litter. But in truth, they were all so adorable I had a hard time deciding which.”

  Nice save, Bizzy. Just for the record, I’m a rather proud runt.

  I crimp a smile her way. She should be proud. In my eyes, she is the pick of the litter.

  “That makes sense.” He gives Cinnamon a scratch on the head. “You’re a sweetheart. Typically, it’s a no pets allowed policy, but I’ll let you slide anytime.”

  “Thank you. There’s a Valentine’s Day dance out in Cider Cove on the fourteenth. If you’re in the area, you should stop by. There will be more than enough single ladies to go around. A handsome guy like you shouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone.” And that way if I need to question him again, we’ll come by it much more naturally.

  “Maybe I will.” His cheek flinches. “It wouldn’t hurt to meet a decent girl for a change.” And scoring with one on Valentine’s Day would be a nice touch.

  “Nice touch?” I balk.

  He inches back. “Excuse me?”

  Someone calls his name from behind and he turns to leave.

  “Wait, Colt? Who do you think did this to Lad?”

  “I don’t know. But I can tell you right now. I wish he was alive because he owed me a hell of a lot of money.” And once he paid me back, I’d kill him as a favor to him. The guy didn’t know when to quit. He was either destined for prison or the grave. Score one for the Grim Reaper. “You know, I’d look into the daughter of his fiancée if I were the homicide detective. She hated the guy. I mean, she’s an obvious suspect.” Then there’s Madeline. His hot side piece. She was quirky but didn’t strike me as trigger-happy. And Emily. Smart lady. She was bound to find out Lad and Nat were back on. Now that would make her trigger happy. “I’ll catch you later. Nice seeing you.”

  I suck in a quick breath.

  Could Emily have found out that Nat and Lad were back on? Nat didn’t seem to think they were back on, but she did mention they were seeing one another toward the end. That sounds like back on enough for me—and maybe Emily, too.

  He takes off toward the foyer.

  “Don’t forget about the dance!” I shout after him, but I’m drowned out by the music.

  So Natalie and Lad were back on. I wonder how “on” they were? And I wonder if that’s what Emily discovered right before Lad was killed? That would have sent any fiancée through the roof. But the gun—I mean, I guess it could have been hers. Nobody is out of the running just yet.

  I’m about to head back to Georgie when I spot a woman from behind who looks all too much like my not-so-levelheaded bestie. She’s got her arms wrapped around some random man, stuffed in a flannel shirt, and she’s kissing him as if he were leaving on the mission to colonize Mars.

  “Oh my God.” I stalk over and pluck her loose. “Emmie, have you lost your mi—”

  And just like that, I lose my own mind.

  “No!” I shout so loud, I’d swear the walls just rattled—heck, Mars just rattled.

  Not only was Emmie m
aking out like there was no tomorrow, but the recipient of that otherworldly kiss was none other than Deputy Leo Granger.

  An incredulous growl rips from me. “I do not know who to swat first,” the words hiss from me. “What are you doing!” I pull Emmie toward me so I can both protect her and slap her silly. She’ll thank me for both come morning. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get us killed! Mackenzie is going to lose her mind when she finds out you’ve swiped her boyfriend from under her.”

  Emmie shakes her head frenetically. “Leo says they’re not serious.”

  “I don’t care what Leo says. I can guarantee you, Leo is not in charge of that relationship. Mackenzie is going to scalp us in the night. Or worse, she’s going to find a much more creative way to make us suffer. And make no mistake about it. She’ll include me in on the fun.” I turn to Leo and glower. “This is all your fault. I saw how you were looking at my bestie back at the café. I should have squashed this like a bad love bug while I had the chance.”

  Leo opens his mouth to say something when a blonde woman with long scraggly hair, a bright blue kaftan, and flip-flops bounds in with her hands waving over her head as she screams with delight all the way over to Georgie.

  “I think we’ve just had a moon landing,” I say to no one in particular before looking back to Emmie and Leo. “How about we chalk this whole night off to one big galactic hallucination? Got that, Leo? That kiss never happened. As you were with Mayor Woods. God knows if she gets wind of this, your bits and pieces are on the chopping block.”

  He cinches his legs a notch—as he should.

  I pull Emmie over with me as we head back to the bar, and Cinnamon hikes up on her hind legs to get a better look at the world around her.

  Is that Georgie’s puppy?

  “That would be her,” I say, only vaguely recalling the woman from that all too brief matrimonial encounter she had with my father. She looks younger, if that were at all possible. Her face is round and wrinkle free, her bright blue eyes have that same touch of mischief as Georgie’s carry, and her accouterments—it’s safe to say the kaftan fruit didn’t roll far from the hippy tree.

  Georgie and Juni eventually slow their show-stopping squeals and rather aggressive embraces—although, if I just got out of prison, I would have held onto my mother in the exact same way.

  “Bizzy!” Georgie pulls me in. “You remember Juniper Moonbeam. Juni, can you believe our little Bizzy Baker is all grown up? And this is her best friend, Emmie.” She pulls Emmie in close.

  Juni squints over at me as if she were having a hard time placing me, and I don’t blame her. It feels as if it’s been a decade if it hasn’t been two.

  “Hello, girls!” She laughs as she pulls Emmie and me into a strangulating embrace. “To the four musketeers! Now who’s buying? It’s not every day you get released from prison, you know. I say we move right past the whiskey and head straight for the champs. None of that carbonated vinegar they sell you for ten bucks a bottle, either. I prefer me some Dom.”

  Georgie whoops and hollers, and soon the bartender is sending a steady stream of 100 proof poison our way. Georgie and Juni get schnockered while I hold Cinnamon at a safe distance. And all the while, Emmie is having unholy thoughts about Leo Granger that I would give anything not to pry into.

  Cinnamon reaches up and licks my cheek. Take me home, Bizzy. This place is for the birds—loud, angry birds.

  Much to her delight, Emmie and I collect a couple of happy drunk birds called Georgie and Juni and hightail it all the way back to Cider Cove.

  It’s time to catch a killer.

  And I think Emily Carter has some explaining to do.

  Chapter 13

  True to his word, Jasper stopped by last night for dessert. Lucky for me, I was fresh out of those raspberry bite-sized cheesecakes and we had to get creative. Suffice it to say, the furry folks among us ran for cover once they saw just how creative Jasper and I could be.

  I couldn’t help it, though. Jasper is a man’s man. A man among men. A deity in the flesh. And who am I to turn down those kissable lips? Those strong arms? That sexy maneuver where he—

  “Bizzy?” a female voice shrills from behind just as I’m about to hop into my car, and I turn to find my worst nightmare barreling in this direction.

  “Mayor Woods.” I straighten. It’s about two in the afternoon and I left Nessa and Grady in charge of the inn. Georgie and Juni were more than glad to take charge over Fish and Cinnamon, while Jasper took Sherlock to work again. And according to his thoughts, it has more to do with warding Camila off than it does his desire to sneak Sherlock a steady stream of donuts throughout the day.

  Mackenzie’s eyes glow like fire as she strides on over as if she were about to walk right through my car.

  “What’s going on with Leo?” she growls out the words.

  “Excuse me?” I do my best to blink back surprise. But it’s no use. As much as I can read minds, Mack here can read body language. In fact, she might be better with her gift than I am with mine.

  She cinches her glossy lips. Her arms fold across her chest, pulling at that siren red power suit she’s donned. It must be miserable dressing up for corporate America every single day, only to roam the mean streets of Cider Cove. It wouldn’t hurt her to throw a sweater into the mix once in a while. But, for some reason, Mackenzie has always tied together fashion and power. She’s not necessarily wrong in doing so. I’m just glad I have a job where a sweater and my favorite fuzzy boots are perfectly acceptable attire.

  “Something is up.” She glares at the inn as if it were to blame. That is, unless she can sense Emmie’s presence. Dear God, I had better warn my bestie that Mack is on the prowl, and she’s bearing her fangs—a surefire sign that she means business. “I think it’s Camila. She’s up to her old wicked reindeer games again. So I did the only thing I could think to do.”

  “You slaughtered them both in their sleep?” Cider Cove has been a bit homicide happy in the last few months. I’m not entirely sure I could blame her.

  “I dumped him.”

  “You dumped Leo?” I inch back to get a better look at this once-upon-a-best-friend of mine. “Like this morning?” Inquiring minds want to know. If that’s the case, Mack is far more intuitive than I give her credit for.

  “Like yesterday.” She sags as her expression goes from rage to self-pity, a psychological pit stop Mackenzie Woods isn’t all that familiar with. And my guess is, she doesn’t much care for it.

  “Yesterday?” I balk as I do the make-out math. “Like, say, before five in the afternoon?”

  She gives a quick nod. “Yesterday morning to be exact. I brought him breakfast down at the station and found Camila sitting on his desk like some 1950s pinup girl. It made me sick, so I gave him the boot.”

  “What?” I balk at the thought of Mackenzie Man Eater Woods reacting in such a knee-jerk manner. “Mack, you and I both know Camila has an unnatural attraction to office furniture. It’s exactly why she lost her last job.” It’s true. Camila worked for the school district out in Sheffield right before they found out she took a bunch of naughty photos while posing with innocent slabs of mahogany. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

  She flinches as if I struck her. “You’re right. I should probably talk to Leo. It’s not too late. I mean, it’s not like he went out last night and made out with some tramp in a dive bar.”

  She had the dive bar part right.

  But Emmie is no tramp.

  “Thank you, Bizzy.” She gives her rosy lapels a quick tug. I miss this. I miss her. She sighs. And for some reason, I knew she could make things better. “I’ll see you at the Valentine’s Day event next week.” She stalks off to wherever she parked her broom. “Double the order for the cheesecake bites! It’s on the city’s tab.”

  I climb into my car and pause for a moment to catch my breath.

  I don’t think I made things better. If anything, I’ve made things worse.

  I’ll have to talk
to Emmie once I get back.

  But first, I’m picking up my sassy sister and we’re headed to Carter Art Corporation headquarters to look at those dicey paintings I’ve heard so much about.

  “Why am I here again?” Macy applies another swipe of hot pink lipstick solely using the reflection on her phone.

  “Because Georgie’s puppy came home to roost,” I say. “Juniper Moonbeam has planted herself at the inn. Do you remember her?” I ask as I look over at the Carter Art Centers’ corporate offices in the distance, a pale blue building with giant canvases covered in pink and purple hearts decorating the expansive windows.

  “Looney Juni?” Macy teases. “How can I forget? I was the flower girl at the marital fiasco. You passed out on the lawn after eating too much of their cotton candy wedding cake and Mom threatened to sue the new Mrs. Baker for child endangerment. She said your adult teeth were destined to turn to chalk.”

  “That explains a myriad of things,” I say, ironing out the front of her lavender blazer with my hands. “Exactly how many power suits do you have, and since when did Mackenzie Woods become your fashion guru?”

  She makes a face and flicks my hands away. “For your information, Mom is my fashion guru. When she quit the glitz and glamour of small-town real estate, she bequeathed her power suit collection to me and I gladly accepted. And by the way, Mayor Woods took a page out of Mom’s look book.” She says Mayor Woods in air quotes.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “She told me. She said she’s always admired what a strong woman our mother was. And when she was running for mayor, she adopted her sense of style and her hardnosed public relations persona.”

  I pause for a moment as I let this sink in.

  “You mean, Mack has been running around all this time doing a terrible impression of our mother?”

  Macy shrugs. “Can you blame her? Mom has always been our fearless leader.”