Her lips twitch as she looks deep in Cinnamon’s eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you, but only because you care enough to take care of this little girl right here.” She lands a kiss to Cinnamon’s nose. “Lad was having an affair.”
I raise my brows.
Is she finally willing to admit the affair?
She nods as if she heard me. “It was with his ex, a woman by the name of Natalie Weiland. They were inseparable before he was with Emily, and during his time with Emily, too.” During my time with him as well, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in it for some matrimonial prize like Emily or Natalie. I was in it for a good time and nothing more.
Sherlock lands his paw over my leg. Didn’t Emily hear disturbing news that night?
My lips part as I nod his way. “You know, Madeline, Emily confessed to me that she heard disturbing news just prior to his death. A witness said they were arguing.”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t surprise me. Natalie was there that night. I saw her myself. It was odd. I mean, she knew Lad would be there. He was a part owner of the Dependable app. And wherever Lad went, so did Emily. But then, maybe Lad invited her like he invited me.”
“Emily said she overheard something that was very upsetting. Do you think she may have overheard Lad and Natalie?”
She gives an aggressive nod before biting down on her lip. “I did, too. It was very bad. It’s not a shocker that Emily or Paige lost their minds and hunted Lad down.”
“Madeline, what did you hear?”
Cinnamon whimpers as she looks up at her. I’ll beg and whine until she delivers, Bizzy.
I give a slight nod the tiny pooch’s way. Animals are far more brilliant than we give them credit for.
“Aww,” Madeline coos down at the sweet girl in her arms. “It’s almost as if she wants to know herself.” She shrugs my way. “I heard Natalie saying something about their plan—and if it was still a-go. Lad assured her that it would only take a few months for Emily to voluntarily hand over her liquid assets before she had the accident.”
“The accident?” My entire body erupts in shivers. “They were going to kill her.”
She gives a single nod. “And as Emily or Paige saw it, the only option was kill or be killed.”
“Emily or Paige.” I shake my head as all the pieces come together.
The class breaks out into a collective titter and reflexively I look toward the front, only to find Georgie noshing on chocolates while having a conversation with the furry man with a short tail.
Sherlock’s ears lift a notch. He’s about to attack!
And just like that, Sherlock springs to action, closing the distance in a few quick sprints.
“No!” Juni screams as she races to the scene, accidentally knocking over the candles and throwing herself on top of the poor man. In a quick burst, the left side of Juni’s kaftan goes up in flames, and the entire room breaks out into wild screams.
“Juni!” I howl as I leap over furniture, knocking over tables and spilling good wine on my way to her.
Juni twirls in a circle while Georgie whips off her own kaftan and starts beating her with it. The naked man quickly follows Georgie’s lead and strips Juni of what’s left of her kaftan and someone rushes over with a bucket of water, effectively dousing out the flames.
Juni quickly pats herself down, and to everyone’s relief she’s come away without so much as a singed eyebrow.
The class breaks out into cheers while I quickly hustle my human and canine circus out of there.
We head back to Cider Cove no worse for wear and with far more answers than I thought I would glean.
Emily and Paige have just moved back to the top of my suspect list.
I’m just inches from getting to the bottom of this.
Whoever killed Lad Warner should be on alert.
Her days of freedom are numbered.
Chapter 16
The gazebo arrived!
Jordy let me know as soon as I got back to the inn, and I wasted no time in texting Jasper that our picnic was about to come to fruition.
Jasper, being the wise man that he is, picked up enough takeout to feed the entire inn.
“Thiam for Thai?” I ask with a laugh caught in my throat as the far too comely detective strides this way with a happy-go-lucky adorable mutt by his side.
Sherlock barks and both Fish and Cinnamon hop his way to playfully wrestle with him.
“I thought we’d try something different. Chinese from the Wok n’ Roll.” He winces.
My mouth falls open. “Are we cheating on the Dragon Express?”
“Did I make the right choice?”
“Are you kidding? I love Chinese,” I say as I wrap my arms around him. “Almost as much as I love you.” I bear into his silver eyes before pressing a molten kiss over his lips. “Let’s do this.” I grab the blankets I set out and give Grady a wave as we leave him to man the reception counter.
Outside the inn, an icy wind blows that steals the order from my hair. The sky is purple and pink with scattered dark clouds freckling the surface, and the ocean holds a tangerine patina.
Sherlock, Fish, and Cinnamon run on ahead, rolling in the powder white sand as they playfully tug at one another.
Once we crest the evergreens that line the path to the bluff, we see it.
“Oh wow.” It comes out in a breath, and it’s all I can manage. “Is it real?” I muse. “It’s right out of a fairytale.”
The glossy white structure itself is massive, at least twenty feet wide, with roses crafted into its ironwork that weave their way throughout it.
Jasper gives my hand a squeeze before pulling it up to his lips and landing a kiss over the back.
“It’s perfect,” he whispers. “It practically commands magic to happen here.”
No sooner does he say those words than Sherlock, Fish, and Cinnamon tumble into the gazebo like one giant ball of fur.
I quickly lay out the blanket and Jasper and I take a seat and dive right into those Wok n’ Roll boxes. It’s safe to say we have a new favorite when it comes to Chinese food.
I clear my throat as I look to the heart-stopping detective beside me.
“I have a confession to make,” I say, my eyes never leaving his.
His lips curl at the edges. “You have indecent plans for dessert?”
“That would be you, and if you play your cards right, I might go along with them.”
“Lay it out. I want to know what I’m up against.”
I lift a brow. “You went to the Pawn King and got the lowdown on that gun.”
His demeanor shifts on a dime. Jasper is not amused.
“That’s an odd confession.” He leans back on his hands, his hardened gaze locked to mine. “And I’m assuming you know this because you went there yourself. You don’t give up, do you?”
Fish yowls. Now he’s catching on.
Sherlock barks right at her. He only has her best interest at heart.
Cinnamon curls up into a ball next to me. Bizzy wants to catch the killer. How is this a bad thing?
“How is this a bad thing?” I echo the pretty pooch’s sentiment.
“It’s not.” Jasper flashes an all too brief smile as he leans forward. “Not until you wind up in the morgue.”
“Speaking of the morgue, that circles us back to the topic of Lad Warner.” I offer a brief smile of my own. “Madeline Harper was with him that day at the pawn shop.”
“I know that,” he says. “And I also know that Lad bought the gun himself.”
“Did you know it was a gift for Emily?”
He shifts my way. “No.” His eyes widen a notch as if his horror was growing by the moment. “You spoke with Madeline, didn’t you?”
“Yup. It was the nude review down at the art center. You couldn’t keep Georgie or Juni away with a flesh-covered stick.”
His eyes close a moment. Would it be selfish of me to hope it was a woman and not a man the three of them got to ogle?
He take
s a breath. “What did you learn?”
“That kaftans burn at an accelerated rate when compared to your run-of-the-mill T-shirt.”
A hard groan comes from him. “Please tell me nobody ended up in the hospital.”
“Only the poor model’s ego. Let’s just say all that jumping and screaming wasn’t very flattering for the guy.”
A dull chuckle comes from him. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Madeline confirmed what Emily said. It turns out, Lad’s fiancée did overhear a very disturbing conversation.”
He nods. “Emily wouldn’t say what it was.”
“But Madeline did. She was there as well.”
He dips his chin. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Emily overheard Lad and Natalie Weiland talking about a plan they had in place to suck all the money out of her bank accounts within the next six months. And then Lad said there would be an accident. Emily’s life was in danger. That’s enough to boil anyone’s blood. Not only that, but she heard it on the same night that Lad gifted her the gun. It’s a no-brainer. Emily pulled the trigger.”
He tips his head to the side. “Paige said she found her mother shaken. If Emily told Paige what she overheard, it might have pushed Paige over the edge. She could have easily gotten ahold of the gun herself.”
That afternoon we spent in the corporate boardroom plays back in my mind and a thought comes to me.
“Oh my God, Jasper. That day we were talking to Emily, she said she was sure Lad was having an affair with both Madeline and a woman by the name of Natalie Pyle.”
He nods. “I caught that, too. I figure it was a flimsy attempt on Lad’s part to cover her identity.”
I nod. “But why? Everyone knew Natalie was his ex.” An entire litany of thoughts tumbles through my mind at once. Natalie Pyle. Natalie Weiland. Weiland. That sounds so familiar. Wei— oh my God. “Those paintings… Jasper, they were signed by an artist who goes by the name Land Wei. No wonder your sister had never heard of them. Land Wei isn’t an artist. More like a con-artist. I bet you anything Natalie Weiland painted those pictures.”
He takes a breath and his chest broadens. “Geez.” His head inches back a notch. “Maybe so, but there’s no way to prove it.”
The Atlantic churns and heaves over itself as fresh sea air baptizes us with its brine.
“I bet there’s a way.” I shake my head over at him. “If Emily pulled the trigger, I think those paintings could prove that she was practically pushed to do it. They’re evidence that Lad and Natalie were fleecing Emily Carter. And Madeline herself heard that they were going to cause an accident to kill the poor woman.”
For once, I’m not nearly as interested in nailing the killer as I am seeing overall justice brought to light.
“Bizzy,” he whispers my name with heavy concern in his tone. “I’ve got this handled. Trust me. I’ve already discovered that the farm Lad’s grandfather owned was in the black. He was taking bad loans to fund his gambling problem, not for his grandfather. I can support the argument that Emily was being horribly used and perhaps primed for murder. I’ve got this, Bizzy. Enjoy the inn. Enjoy the safety that your life affords you. Leave this to me. Please.”
My mouth parts to give a rebuttal, but nothing comes out.
Jasper pulls me onto his lap and lands a mind-numbing kiss over my lips.
“Let’s change the course of this conversation,” he whispers right over my cheek. “I need a break from the case. Let’s focus on us. How about that secret you promised to tell me? This looks and feels like a special place for divulging secrets. What do you think?”
Fish lets out a roar as if someone just gave her tail a good tug. Bizzy! This is serious. Are you really going to do it? There’s no going back, Bizzy. No going back.
Cinnamon tucks her nose into her belly. I can’t watch.
Sherlock lets out a soft bark. Jasper will only love you more. Don’t be afraid. Tell him, Bizzy. Tell him everything.
I make a face at the gazebo. “I’d utter it if I wanted to ruin the ambience here for good.” My lips knot up as I look up at the handsome man before me. “How about we continue that kiss? I think it’s supercharging this place with the love and positivity a place like this deserves.”
“Then it’s our civic duty to continue.”
And we do.
Too bad for me, I haven’t shared my big bad secret just yet. I’m not sure how Jasper will feel about the telesensual side of me. I’m not even sure how I feel about it.
And too bad for Jasper, I’ll be looking into Natalie Weiland once again.
Correction—too bad for Natalie.
Chapter 17
The next afternoon, the Water’s Edge Bookshop looks like a pale bone juxtaposed against a blood red sky. I don’t hesitate heading on in.
It’s warm inside, the sweet woodsy scent of the paperbacks enlivens my senses, and I don’t waste any time in marching right up to the counter. There is a nice stream of customers in the shop today. Mothers with toddlers, teenagers walking around in mobs, a handful of elderly people each with their noses tucked in a book. There’s a huge sale banner over a table near the back wall and a cluster of bodies centered around it like a hive.
A young man carrying a stack of hardbacks almost passes me by as he pauses to look my way. He wears dark-rimmed glasses and an easy smile. His hair is shorn short and is an unmistakable shade of fire engine red.
“Can I help you?” he asks, nearly toppling his load.
“I was looking for Natalie. She was helping me with a…book selection.” I lean in. “And offering some sage advice when it comes to my love life.”
“She does that a lot.” His expression sours. Natalie is the last person who should be giving away advice like that. In the least it should come with a warning. Unless, of course, this poor girl is looking to become a mistress. Then, Nat might just have the perfect thing to say. “She was on her way out to lunch. But she might still be in the workroom in the back. Go on and see if you can find her.”
“Thank you.”
So he knows about Natalie? It sounds as if she’s blabbed all of her dark secrets to her coworkers. I’ll let Jasper know when it’s time for Emily to build her defense. Not that I agree with the fact Emily killed Lad in cold blood. But after hearing the things she was subjected to, what jury could blame her? It’s clear she was driven by sheer insanity.
What if Jasper was cheating on me? And with Camila, his smarmy ex of all people? And what if I had stumbled upon a nefarious conversation of theirs in an effort to not only drain my bank account, but to off me in an accidental manner?
I’d lose my mind, and a bullet or two. And how easy it would be to do that if Jasper had just given me a gun? Of course, I’d probably point it at Camila first. Heck, I might have stopped there.
I shake the homicidal thoughts out of my mind as I hit the back of the bookshop where the air is a little cooler and the din of voices slowly reduce to a thick silence. A small sign hanging on the door reads STAFF ONLY, and the door itself sits slightly ajar.
I give a little knock. “Hello?” I sing. “Uh, I’m looking for Natalie.” I take a step into the spacious dark room that looks more like a warehouse and smells like my father’s garage.
Stacks of boxes sit scattered around. A small table and battered refrigerator sit near the wall to my right. And to my left, the room seems to go on and on with enough inventory lying around to fill another bookstore.
My feet meander that way without hesitation, and I spot a desk sitting under a broken window that’s been poorly mended with duct tape.
Papers cover the dusty desk, there’s an electronic time card machine to the right, and a bloated calendar that lies flat against the desk that looks as if an entire pot of coffee got dumped onto it. I run my finger across it just to affirm that it’s no longer wet and inadvertently turn a few pages, landing the book on May. A series of lines run through the first two weeks of the month with the words Natalie’s vacation, T&
C scrawled over them.
May?
That’s when Emily said she was due to marry Lad. The beginning of May specifically. Natalie’s vacation lines up with that.
Huh. Maybe she didn’t want to be around to witness the catastrophe? I can understand that. Who would want to see the love of their life marrying someone else? Even if it was for money. And even if you were planning to kill the bride at a later date. I bet that homicidal honor would have gone to Natalie. I’m sure she would be ready to do it regardless. I’ve never felt sorrier for a killer before more than I do for poor Emily—or Paige. But somehow the spontaneity of it all tells me it was a little more passionate. I’d bet the entire inn it was Emily herself.
The scamper of what sounds like mice comes from my left, and I gasp before heading that way. A shard of light hits over something all the way in the back, something large and white that looks strangely out of place in this cardboard box world. And then I see it for what it is.
“How do you like that?” I pant as I head over and run my hand over the enormous pristine canvas. Next to it lies an opened tackle box brimming with acrylic paint. My hand reaches for the canvas, and I pull it forward to reveal another one the exact size nestled right behind it. But this one isn’t blank. It’s painted in blues and greens with paint dripping down the left side of it, identical to those paintings back at Carter Corporate. And scrolled across the bottom is the name Land Wei.
A breath catches in my throat, and I pull out my phone and quickly take as many pictures of the scene that I can.
Knew it.
Caught you red-handed, Natalie.
All the evidence to prosecute her for those fake works of art is right here. And even though it’s not a crime to sell art, it will help fill out the pieces and paint the right picture for Emily.
The sound of a car pulling into the lot behind the bookstore filters in through the window, and I look out to see Natalie getting out of a sedan.
My feet carry me right out of the staff room and back into the bookstore. I’m no longer moved to have a conversation with her. Not yet, anyway.
Murder Bites Page 14
