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A Candy Cane Cat-astrophe

Page 6

by Addison Moore


  “Pixie and I have a bright idea,” I say. “How about the two of you forget about those two Italian Stallions and find yourself some good old-fashioned Starry Falls stud muffins to pass the time? I’m sure there has to be an inebriated elf or two around here somewhere willing to help out a couple of perverts in a pinch.”

  Shep slips his arms around my waist. “I’m with Pixie and Bowie. Stay away from the mobsters. Rumor has it, they make lousy boyfriends.”

  Both Stephanie and I belt out a hearty amen.

  She shrugs. “I might be a lot of things, but I’m no quitter.” She links arms with Tilly. “Come on, Til. Let’s hit that photo booth and figure out the lighting before the boys show up. I’d hate for them to think we’re high-maintenance.”

  “You’re right. There are some secrets a woman should take to the grave.” She pauses my way. “That reminds me, my eyelash perm has finally worn off. You and I should really hit the salon again. We can have our brows threaded and get a little facial paralysis done this time, too. Oh, and we can do a color, cut, mani-pedi, and wax everything from the eyeballs down all before the fat man in the red suit shimmies down our chimneys.”

  “You mean wax everything from the neck down,” I say.

  “Nope.” Tilly wrinkles her nose. “That was just a delicate way of saying I think we need to revisit that beard you’ve got going.”

  “What?” I squawk as they take off. “Hey! I do not have a beard.”

  About ten different people turn my way to confirm this.

  “I don’t have a beard, Shep.” My cheeks burn bright as Christmas ornaments, and I’m suddenly wishing I had a beard to cover up the fact I’m mortified.

  “No—of course not.” His brows dip low as he examines me. “And it’s dark here. You’ll be fine.”

  I don’t hesitate swatting him as a husky laugh bounds through him.

  “You’re lucky I like you,” I say as I wrap my arms around his waist.

  He inches back and gives a playful frown.

  “You like me, huh?” His expression grows serious as he examines me a moment. “I guess you could say I’m pretty enamored with you, too.” His lids hood low. “In fact, you could say I—”

  No sooner is Shep about to blurt out something profound—or at least I’m hoping—when the ground beneath me gives a shake and rattle, the world grows strangely dim, and that old familiar warm and fuzzy feeling takes over.

  A vision begins to form in my mind’s eye. A dimly lit corridor appears, and I recognize that crimson damask wallpaper as belonging to the Mortimer Manor. A woman looks my way, panting—her eyes wide with terror.

  “You can’t tell anybody. I could go to jail for this! Please, just forget about everything you’ve just said. I’d hate for something to happen.”

  “I recognize that woman!” I blurt it right out into poor Shep’s face, and he startles as if I’ve just smacked him solid.

  “What woman?” He leans back a notch, his arms securing themselves that much more around my waist. “Bowie, it happened again, didn’t it?”

  “Whoa, whoa.” A horrible thought hits me. “Can we just rewind the conversation a wee bit?” I wince. “I didn’t miss anything big, did I?” Like the letters L-O followed by the all-important V and E?

  Shep exhales as if he’s been holding his breath all along and he holds my gaze with his. Shep is devastatingly handsome tonight with that dark scruff on his cheeks. His dark hair is thick and glossy, and it brings out the pale striations in his eyes.

  He brushes his thumb over my cheek. “We can revisit it.” He nods. “Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to take you home?”

  “What? No.” I give a quick look around and gasp once I spot a golden throne situated just past the hot cocoa stand. And seated on that gilded wonder is the man in the red suit himself—the exact jolly old elf I was hoping we’d run into this evening, Mayor Augustus Wright.

  “Bowie?” Shep says it low, more like a growl as he follows my gaze. “We’re here to get a couple of trees, remember? No need to question anybody. Besides, I’ve already got his boots from the other night.”

  “Well, it looks as if he found another pair. I suggest we head over and ask where he got them.”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “Because I’ve just recruited you to play the part of the candy cane king for the ugly sweater party the manor is hosting. And you never know, he might have some tips and tricks to give you. Like how to strangle your ex while you’re on a five-minute break.” I bite my lip as I look up at Shep. “Of course, we’d have to narrow it down between Nora and Regina. I vote for the sassy waitress. She’s got a big ego and a rebellious disposition if she thinks she can keep secrets with my man.”

  Shep’s lips curve with devious intent. “I probably shouldn’t be smiling since you’ve just entertained two new homicides in the same breath, but I confess, I like the sound of that last statement.”

  A throaty laugh bubbles from me. “And, being my man, I’m sure you can’t deny me a thing. I think Pixie needs her picture taken with Santa.”

  He glances back while Mayor Wright does his thing.

  “All right, Kitten,” he says, looking right into my eyes. “Bowie”—he whispers my name—“I’m worried about you.”

  “I know.” I swallow hard. “And I think it’s time I let you in on my secret.” My chest bucks as I say it because I’m terrified that Shep will walk away from what we have—or in the least have me arrested. Potentially both. “Just not here.” I shrug. “But first, let’s make Pixie’s red velvet wishes come true.”

  A crooked grin glides up his face. “I’ve got a few red velvet wishes of my own.”

  “Stop by the café tomorrow morning. You’re going to love my new uniform. The best part? It transitions to an on the town gown with a simple quick change into a pair of sexy heels.”

  “Sounds as if I’d better take you out to dinner.”

  “I knew you were a smart one.”

  We dash right through the snow and make tracks toward the golden throne in question. Lucky for us, the line moves quickly, and before we know it, we’re bringing up the rear.

  Shep lands his lips close to my ear. “I’ll do the talking.”

  I inch back. “Have you met me?”

  “Bowie,” he pleads just this side of insisting, but it’s too late, we’re up next.

  “Mayor Gus!” I say brightly. “It looks as if it’s Pixie’s lucky day,” I say, plopping my sweet kitty into his lap. “She’s been on both the naughty and the nice list this year—just like her daddy.” I wink over at Shep. “I guess it’s up to you to decide which side of the fence she lands on Christmas morning.”

  Pixie looks up at me with those big round eyes. If I were a betting woman, I’d say she were contemplating scratching both of our eyes out and making a run for the hills. But, lucky for me, she knows which side of town her Fancy Beast cat food is doled out on, and she lets out a disgruntled growl instead.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” Mayor Wright bellows while a woman in an elf costume snaps a few pictures. The jolly old elf stands gingerly and lands Pixie back in my arms.

  “Detective Wexler?” He looks to Shep. “How’s the case going?”

  “It’s going well.” Shep’s chest expands. “I’ve got a few leads I’m actively pursuing. Things are falling into place nicely. I’m sure we’ll have this buttoned up soon.”

  “Good to hear.” He gives a wistful nod. “It’s darn right grisly what that killer did to poor Holly. Lucky for us, we didn’t have children, but her folks are pretty devastated.”

  “I can imagine,” I say. “It’s a horrible thing to happen any time of the year, especially this one. Carol Bransford didn’t seem all that upset, though. I guess she and Holly had a falling-out.”

  He grunts at the thought. “You want to know the irony in that? They used to be thick as thieves. But I guess some people simply grow apart.”

  Shep nods. “That’s right, they worked at the distiller
y together for a while before Holly left for the library.”

  I look to the man with the polyester beard. “Why did she leave?”

  Mayor Wright’s expression grows dark. “Holly had a falling-out with a couple of the board members. But that was years ago. She was at the library right here in town for the last three years. From what I understood, she enjoyed it, too.”

  Holly and Carol were having it out the night of the murder. If they were such good friends, what could that have been about? She mentioned they quibbled, but that looked more like a rumble to me.

  Shep bounces his brows my way. “How about we go pick out those trees now?”

  “Sure,” I say, shooting him a look. “Mayor Wright?” I press against his overstuffed belly without meaning to. “Did you have an exchange with Holly that night?”

  His eyes narrow over mine before drifting to Shep. “Is this about those boots again? I told you I went back there to have a quick smoke. All those kids were jangling my nerves. And I just so happened to step into Opal’s border garden. How was I to know there was mud underneath that thin layer of snow?”

  “This isn’t about the boots,” I say. “I was just curious. It’s my nature.”

  He glowers over at Shep. “You’re a real couple of bookends, aren’t you?” He gives a light chuckle and his belly jiggles up and down. “Don’t worry, little lady. I couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a woman. Especially not the one I was married to for half a decade.” He glances past us a moment. She was having trouble”—he nods to Shep—“at the library, of all places. I’m telling you that woman couldn’t go ten steps without stirring the pot. It’s no surprise to me she was lying out there with the life snuffed out of her. I’m just surprised it took so long to happen.” He pauses a moment. “And, of course, there were those less than savory social media posts. Holly was falling apart in every area of her life.”

  The elf manning the camera calls for him to take a seat as a line of little ones wait anxiously for their turn.

  He nods over to the two of us.

  “I’m looking forward to putting this far behind me.” He glances to Shep. “You know where to find me.” He sniffs my way. “It’s Bowie, right?” I nod. “I wouldn’t dig too deep into this. A lot of people wanted Holly to go away. Just enjoy your holidays, sweetheart. I’m sure the sheriff’s department will button this up in no time.” He winks over at Shep before taking off, and Pixie hisses his way.

  “Did you see that?” I whisper as Shep navigates us toward the woods. “That man was mocking you.”

  “That man was feeling like he was getting a shakedown for his ex-wife’s murder while wearing a Santa suit.”

  “Are you saying I’m a lousy detective?”

  He pulls us to a stop just shy of the entry to the woods, right in front of the chainsaw rentals, and pulls me close. “I’m saying you’re not a detective.”

  Pixie lets out a sharp yowl as she smushes her furry little body between us.

  “I think she takes umbrage to that,” I say.

  “No need to.” Shep gives Pixie a scratch over her forehead. “It’s the truth.”

  I shake my head. “I choose to ignore your lunacy. Clearly, you’re ornery because you don’t have enough hot cocoa in you. I can fix that. And if you’re good, I might give you a cookie to go with it. How long ago did Mayor Wright and Holly divorce?”

  “Six months.” He frowns.

  “So what do you think Holly and Carol had a falling-out about? I mean, I clearly saw them going at it. But then again, I saw her having it out with Kaila, Mayor Wright, and his brother, too. And what do you think he meant by the less than savory social media posts?” Another thought hits me. “Hey? Mayor Wright said that Holly was stirring the pot at the library. And last night when I talked to Carol, she said Holly and Kaila, the librarian, were having a sharp disagreement that night. I think we should talk to her next.”

  “We? As in Nora and I?”

  I hold Pixie close. “This might come as a surprise to you, Detective Wexler, but I rarely think of you and your ex-fiancée as the royal we.”

  “Good.” He touches his forehead to mine, and I can feel Pixie purring like a jet engine. “Because I’d like to think of us as the royal we.”

  “I do like how you think.” I bite down on a smile. “I like how you kiss even better.”

  “That is exactly why we’re here.” He points up, and I look skyward to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging over our heads.

  “You’re a smart man,” I say. “I knew I liked you.”

  Shep’s smile diminishes a notch.

  Oh my goodness, could he have really said he loved me back there?

  “I mean”—I can feel the L word bubbling up my throat, and I swear on all that is holy I mean it to the depths of my soul—“I l—”

  Shep lands a searing kiss over my lips and makes me forget what I was going to say next. Instead, we express exactly how we feel, effortlessly without the use of words.

  I love Shepherd Wexler. I knew it the minute I laid eyes on this ornery man, and I know it more than I know my own name right now. I love him. I do.

  We head deep into the woods and cut down a couple of perfect blue nobles. Shep and I sip on hot cocoa while walking through the snow, holding hands, holding Pixie, holding onto all that the glorious future holds for us.

  I do think it holds something special just for the two of us, and I don’t need a peephole into the future to believe it.

  Chapter 7

  Who knew a little red dress could garner twice the tips than just tossing an apron over a sweater and blue jeans?

  Regina. That’s who.

  No sooner does the breakfast rush hustle through the doors than Shep heads in right along with them.

  “Holy jolly holiday.” He sucks a quick breath in through his teeth as soon as he spots me. His eyes do that broken elevator thing, and he lets me know he approves of my naughty, albeit Regina-inspired accouterments.

  Stephanie grunts. “That enthusiastic reaction deserves an entire box of Nana Rose’s cookies. I’ll put some together for you. Maybe you can share some with that ex of yours down at the station.” She winks my way.

  “Ignore her,” I say as I make my way to him. And just as I’m about to wrap my arms around him, a sparkling specter enters our midst.

  “Oh, Bowie, it’s terrible.” Hazel Newton moans in only a way that a ghost can. Her auburn hair shimmers like the Red Sea, and her lips look just as ruby.

  “What?” I whisper in hopes Shep won’t pick up on it.

  He lands his arms around me. “All right, let me rephrase that. You are smokin’. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

  “Did you think I’d forget?” I give a wink his way.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven. It’s going to be a long day. Try to stay out of trouble.” He dots a kiss over my lips. “Seven.” His eyes drift down my body once again. “You’re an innovator.”

  Regina slams her hand over his chest and causes him to stagger back a few feet.

  “I’m the innovator.” She glances my way. “Excuse us, Bowie. We’ve got some business to discuss.”

  She pulls him out the door, and I blow him a kiss as the she-devil pulls him off by the tie.

  Stephanie takes off after the two of them with a box of Nana Rose’s best Christmas cookies just as Hazel swoops in close with her glowing countenance. Sparkling red stars shimmer in her hair as if they were forming a brand new constellation.

  “Bowie, there’s a creepy man out there with a vacuum cleaner attached to his back—who thinks he’s going to suck me into it and land me in a bottle on his desk.”

  “What? Where exactly is he?”

  She wrinkles her nose. “He just left. I fried the electrical board on that equipment he was hauling around. But he’ll be back. This isn’t the first time he’s been here.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Mud. He’s the handyman around here. And I’ll get to the bottom of it. Was that the surprise you men
tioned the other night?”

  She shakes her head. “This isn’t the time or place, but I’ll let you in on it soon. I think you’ll be pretty excited about it. You should bring your sister, too.”

  “You bet.”

  Who knows?

  She might just send Stephanie packing yet. Not that I’m itching for my sister to head back to Hastings. But when you get right down to it, she’s most likely a big liability. And will more than likely be the reason I end up doing that time I seem to be putting off.

  I nod to Hazel. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Can’t wait. I’ll see you later.” She dematerializes right in front of me, and it’s a disconcerting sight.

  Tilly comes up and slings an arm around my shoulders. “What do you say we get out of here? I’ve already made twice as much in tips as I did yesterday.”

  “Don’t you want to knock the fire hydrant over and see how high the financial waters can go?”

  “Why spoil all the fun at once? Besides, I’m in the mood to do a suspect run. I’m dressed to impress and hot-to-trot. Is it asking too much if I’m hoping the next suspect is hanging out at a morally replete watering hole?”

  A tiny laugh percolates within me. “It’s more of a literary watering hole. But stick with me, kid, you might just learn something.”

  Tilly groans as she takes a look around the Starry Falls Public Library.

  “I’m learning something, all right,” she mutters. “I’m learning that I can’t trust you, Bowie Binx, to ensure I’ll have a good time.”

  Stephanie pats her on the shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Til. Many a people have been fooled into believing Bowie might be trustworthy. Newsflash: she’s not a good time either.”

  I shoot her a look. I have no doubt that was a dig at my dubious money laundering past. She’s not wrong. But that’s not the point.

  The Starry Falls Public Library has a grand entrance comprised solely of homey whitewashed bricks. And once you enter the library proper, you’re met with sterile walls and glossy white chairs and tables—the effort of a recent remodel I’m guessing. The carpeting inside is thick, lush sage with a pattern of embossed leaves over the surface of it, and it helps to dampen the noise of footsteps. But it’s the heavenly sweet scent of the paperbacks and the hardbacks which gives me that rush of adrenaline I used to get when I was a kid and I entered this literary haven. I’ve always been a bookworm through and through. And no matter what age or stage of life I’m at, the scent of books gives me an instant, natural high.

 

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