Sealed with a Hiss

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Sealed with a Hiss Page 6

by Addison Moore


  Georgie grunts, “I still think we should feed ’em whatever they want to hear. They get hope for a night, and I get a few nickels myself. It’s a win-win all the way around. And don’t think the women coming to that shindig won’t be putting out on the big night. Their dates will practically owe us a thank you card.”

  “Who’s getting lucky?” a deep voice whispers in my ear before dotting my cheek with a kiss, and I turn to find Jasper Wilder, my handsome other half, offering me a happy-go-lucky grin that usually leads us both to lucky, lucky places.

  “You.” I wink. “Hey, I thought you were leaving for work?”

  He winces as he glances back to the entry. “I was.”

  Heading our way are both Diane Regal—along with Gizmo in tow—and Lacey, the saucy blonde I saw less than twenty-four hours ago at her best friend’s bedside.

  “Hello, ladies.” I pin a smile to my face. “What can I do for you?”

  Sherlock barks as he gives Gizmo a playful nudge with his nose. Stick around, kiddo. The one in the green has bacon. Play your puppy dog eyes right, and she’ll give us both a snack to remember.

  The two of them scamper over and sit at Georgie’s feet, whimpering and looking as pathetically adorable as they can muster.

  They’re so stinking cute I have half a mind to raid Georgie’s pockets myself and rain salted meat over them. Gizmo really does look like a miniature teddy bear come to life with his soft curly hair and big button eyes. If he were my dog, he’d have the waistline of a whiskey barrel. I couldn’t deny him a thing.

  I redirect my attention back to Diane and Lacey—and suddenly realize exactly why my handsome hubby has decided to stick around. Suspects galore.

  Diane opens her mouth to say something, and Georgie cuts her off.

  “You’re not planning a wedding, are you? What the heck. I’ll offer my services to the both of you at a discount. If you act fast, I’ll throw in a Valentine’s Day tree while I’m at it.”

  Both Diane and Lacey look as confused as can be. Can’t say I blame them.

  “No, actually.” Diane sighs. “I’m here to ask a favor of you, Bizzy. Those books we were hoping to sell the other night are awfully heavy. Would you mind if I stored them here at the inn until the Valentine’s event? Now that Bobbie is on the mend, I think it’d be appropriate to sell them that night instead.”

  “Not a problem,” I tell her. “I had my groundskeeper move them into the utility closet last night so they’ll be safe until the big day.”

  Lacey lifts a finger. “And I had something I wanted to ask you, Bizzy. After you left, Bobbie and I had a thought. Would it be okay if we ran a scavenger hunt here on the grounds that night as well? I bet our fans will fall in love with this place. You never know, it could bring you a little business.”

  “I’ll take it,” I’m quick to tell her. “Of course, it’s fine.” The inn could use a shot in the arm this time of year as far as guests go. Now that I’m the owner, I’m seeing things through an entirely new lens—a green one, as in fiscal. The inn is doing okay in general, but the truth is, our head is just above water this time of year. “I’ll take any guests you want to send my way.”

  “Great.” Lacey takes a breath as she looks to Jasper. “Good morning, Detective. I suppose you’re still sifting for clues.”

  “Oh”—I glance to my official plus one—“Diane, Lacey, this is my husband, Jasper. He’s the lead detective on the case, but he was just coming in to say goodbye to me. He’s on his way to work.”

  Thanks. He winks my way. Would you mind asking if either of them remembers anything suspicious from that night?

  I nod. “Say”—I lean their way—“have either of you remembered anything that might be of help to the case? Do you remember noticing anything odd? Anything at all?”

  Diane purses her lips. There’s no way I’m telling the homicide detective in charge of the case that I was at the murderous ground zero. It’s bad enough I shook like a leaf while he was jotting down my name the other night.

  “I’ve got nothing.” She hikes her shoulders to her ears.

  Lacey tips her head to the side. “Come to think of it, I saw Keegan heading out toward the parking lot. But like I said the other night, once I saw Bobbie and Chip arguing, I decided to back off and give them their moment. I went to the restroom and headed right back into the ballroom.”

  Diane nods. “And I saw the same thing—Bobbie and Chip arguing. I took Gizmo out to use the bathroom and after he finished up, we turned right back around.”

  I glance down to the sweet dog still sitting at attention, and he lets out a small whimper.

  It’s true. I had to go number two!

  There’s that. Maybe that’s why he said Diane was near the explosive couple? His proximity might have been off.

  But I’m not letting her off the hook just yet.

  Diane rocks back on her heels. “Wait a minute. I think I saw Keegan heading their way, too.” Thank God for Keegan’s obsession with Chip. It doesn’t even matter if I saw her or not. The girl needs to be taking the limelight, not me.

  I shoot a glance to Jasper and his brows dip low as he studies me.

  Why do I get the feeling you’re not buying what she’s selling? he asks.

  Because you’re intuitive, I want to tell him but choose to restrain myself.

  Jasper nods to the women before us. “Thank you both. I’ll look into Keegan Merritt with a little more interest.” He dots my cheek with a kiss. “Have a great day, ladies,” he says, giving both dogs a quick pat before taking off. Don’t turn your back on anyone, Bizzy. Love you.

  I love him, too. And I’m always sad to see him go. The only bright spot is knowing I’ll get to see his handsome face at the end of the day.

  Mackenzie steps our way. “Mayor Woods.” She nods to the women before us. “Nice to meet you both. I’m sorry about the unfortunate incident. The inn seems to have had its fair share of trouble as of late. I’m considering putting a warning label on it.”

  “Oh?” Lacey looks my way with an expression that suggests I might be slightly responsible for the tragedy. Which brings us right back to that whole litigious thing.

  “It’s nothing,” I shake my head.

  “Nothing? Try ten different homicides,” Georgie howls. “Right here in Cider Cove. And Bizzy Bust-’em Baker has solved every last case.” She shrugs my way. I couldn’t fit Wilder in there, kid. It threatened to take away some of the pizazz.

  “It’s hasn’t been ten,” I try my best to refute it.

  My word! Has it been ten?

  Mackenzie sniffs. “It’s been thirteen counting Chip Buckingham.”

  “Thirteen murders?” Diane shrieks, and about a dozen guests pause to look this way.

  “But who’s counting?” I give them a little wave, and they quickly turn away.

  “I’m counting,” Mack snips. “And oddly enough, Bizzy here always seems to haul in the killer.”

  A dull moan comes from me.

  Way to blow my cover. It’s bad enough Diane knows Jasper is sniffing around. Now she’ll clam up around me as well.

  “Mackenzie”—I sigh—“don’t you have a wedding to plan? And Georgie, that bacon isn’t going to feed itself to the dogs.”

  Georgie jerks back to life and asks Diane’s permission to give Gizmo the tasty treat.

  “Go right ahead,” she says before looking to Mackenzie. “So when’s the big day?”

  “The fourteenth,” Mackenzie says just as Sherlock and Gizmo growl and snarl as they work to vacuum up every bit of bacon Georgie just flung their way. “Right here at the inn. In the ballroom, in fact. But don’t worry. The party you’re throwing doesn’t deter me. I’ve always wanted a big wedding. As long as I don’t have to feed them, I don’t care how many desperate saps looking for love show up to admire me in my fabulous dress. Speaking of which.” She checks her phone. “My time here is up.”

  Diane and Lacey share a quick glance and nod.

  “A
wedding!” Lacey tosses up her hands with glee. “This is exactly the type of thing the Perfect Pairing needs right now. I’m Lacey Lovelace, of Bobbie and Lacey.” She quickly thrusts her hand at Mackenzie, and they share a vigorous shake. “You’re more than welcome to have the wedding at any time during the night you like.”

  Mack takes a moment to scowl at her. What the heck kind of a name is Lacey Lovelace? Most likely her dancer name.

  “It’ll be a double wedding.” Mackenzie shudders at the thought. “As it turns out, the father of my groom-to-be is getting hitched, too.”

  Lacey gives a long blink. “A double wedding? I couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate a night dedicated to love. I’ll tell you what. I’ll get ordained and perform the ceremony for the entire lot of you. What do you say, Mayor Woods? Do we make a perfect pair?”

  Mack nods. “As long as it’s legal, I wouldn’t care if one of these dogs did the deed.” She glances to her phone again. “I have to run for now. I’ll see you all later.” She trots off. “Yes to the tree, Georgie,” she calls out as she heads for the door. “But I get a free ornament!”

  “Yes!” Georgie shoots a fist into the air. “That almost makes up for the fact I don’t get to perform the sacred rites.” She scowls at Lacey. “You swiped that rug right from underneath me, lady.”

  Lacey laughs at the thought. “That would be my specialty.”

  Diane’s chest bucks with a silent laugh. “You can say that again.”

  The women take off, and I stare at them long after they leave.

  “What are you thinking, kid?” Georgie leans in so close I can feel her breath on my cheek.

  “I think we’re going to have a good time talking to Keegan Merritt tonight. It looks as if all of the bullets are pointing her way.”

  “I’d better rustle up a date. Know any single seniors willing to mingle?”

  “No, but Juni might have a spare. Maybe you can ask her?”

  She makes a face. “It’s no use. Her mother never taught her to share. And before you go pointing out the obvious, I’m well aware the culprit is me. But don’t worry. I’ll be there with bells on—and so will the hottie I’m about to hunt down.”

  She takes off, ready to stalk her prey, and I stare out the window at the frozen world just outside the inn. The snow is coming down hard, as icy and cold as the killer’s heart.

  Someone killed Chip Buckingham.

  And Keegan Merritt might just be the one with a glacier in her chest where her beating heart should be.

  It’s date night at the Match Box.

  Here’s hoping Jasper and I score more than a free dinner—here’s hoping we get a killer out of the deal, too.

  Chapter 7

  The Match Box happens to be a bar nestled along the boardwalk overlooking the water down at Whaler’s Wharf.

  Outside it’s a clapboard building comprised of dark wood that appears wet to the touch, and inside it has a weathered appeal with dark floors and matching furniture. The music is loud, the sound of boisterous laughter hovers a decibel or two over that, and the scent of fresh grilled burgers sends Jasper, and the two gentlemen who have joined us for the adventure, moaning with delight.

  Georgie gave up her hunt for a man about halfway through the day and twisted Juni’s arm into lending her one of her own. So Juni is with Dr. Bernstein, the two of them clad in black leather jackets like a couple of biker peas in a Harley pod. And Georgie, true to her word, has shown up with bells on—little silver jingle bells sewn right on the edges of that red kaftan of hers. And she happens to have her arm around Bobbie’s brother, Buck.

  That’s right. Juni and Georgie did the boyfriend switcheroo, and neither of them could be any happier.

  Buck, the blond surly man, claps along to the music.

  “Come on, hot mama.” He does his best to nudge Georgie toward the dance floor. “I’m in the mood to shake and bake with a lady in red.”

  “Hold your horses, Chef Boyardee. We’ve got to compete with the young guns here for our free dinner.” She spikes a finger his way. “I hope you memorized that script I gave you.”

  I make a face at Jasper. “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “We’re the only real couple here. We’ve got this on lock.”

  “You better believe it.” He gives a sly wink. “What’s your favorite color again?”

  “Funny.” I give him a playful slug in the arm. “And it’s blue in the event you forgot.”

  Or was it lavender? Heck, I could never make up my mind.

  The hostess comes over and we ask to sign up for the next slot available to play their reindeer couple’s games.

  “The Perfect Match? You’re in luck,” she says. “I’ve got another game opening in less than an hour. I can seat you if you want to enjoy some appetizers until them. Or you can order dinner and, if one of you wins, we’ll deduct the winners’ meals from the bill.”

  Georgie snaps her fingers. “So that’s how they get you.”

  “That’s fine,” I tell the girl, and soon we’re seated near the window overlooking the twinkle lights out on the wharf with the iridescent glow of the waves breaking down below.

  “This is so romantic,” I say, taking in the rustic appeal the Match Box has to offer. Bodies are squeezed into every square inch of the facility, and the crowd seems to be growing that much rowdier by the moment. It’s dimly lit in the facility save for a few small spotlights up above the dance floor and candles nestled in Mason jars set on every table.

  Jasper’s lids hood low and he gets that loose grin on his face that happens just before—

  “All right, you two.” Georgie smacks her lips our way. “We get it. Someone’s getting lucky.” She shoots a glance to Buck, who suddenly looks hopeful. “Relax, Papa Bear. It’s not you.”

  A dark laugh strums from the sandy-haired man. “Playing hard to get, are we? Don’t worry, Mama. I’ve caught colder fish than you. By the end of the night, you’ll be begging to get lucky.”

  “Win me a free meal and we’ll renegotiate the deal.” She shrugs my way. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to employ the hard-to-get strategy to score a free steak. You kids don’t stand a chance.”

  Dr. Bernstein lifts a brow our way. He’s older, handsome in a fuzzy teddy bear sort of way with his commanding furry brows and curly gray hair.

  “I beg to differ,” he says. “Juniper Moonbeam and I are twin sides of the same coin.”

  As odd as a proclamation that is to hear from just about anyone, a part of me accepts his sentiment as gospel. Although they seem to defy every dating social norm there is—Juni is an ex-con and Dr. Bernstein has taken the Hippocratic Oath. They seem happy to ignore the societal disconnect between the two of them. And in keeping with their smitten spirit, so am I.

  The waitress swings by and we order a few appetizers to split between us.

  “Make it two of everything,” Juni shouts before the waitress does a disappearing act. “We’ve got a couple of deep pockets picking up the tab. We may as well feast like kings.”

  A warm laugh breaks out among us save for Jasper and me.

  I shrug his way. “There’s an outside chance we’re not the deep pockets in question,” I say, looking over at Juni and Dr. Bernstein as they canoodle like a couple of lovestruck teenagers.

  Jasper nods. He did park his Bentley outside. They won’t even let you sit in one at the dealership without having deep pockets.

  I bat my lashes up at him. “I’ve always been a truck girl myself.”

  “Lucky for me, that’s all I can afford.” Have I given you a tour of the truck bed yet?

  “The one that’s full of snow?”

  His cheek flinches. “Sounds as if we have something to look forward to come spring.”

  “It’s a date.”

  The appetizers arrive just as I spot a familiar redhead laughing near the bar.

  “Save a jalapeño popper for me,” I say as I shoot out of my seat and zip over to the bar before my handsome hus
band has a chance to put the kibosh on this good time.

  “Pardon me?” I say with a little wave and she looks my way. “Are you the one running the game?”

  “The Perfect Match?” She perks up. “That’s me, I’m Keegan Merritt. I sort of run the show around here.”

  Keegan is a gorgeous woman, petite, sly smile, wavy red hair that is easily the envy of every woman. She’s wearing a short pink dress that glows against her deep olive skin and looks sensible enough for me to believe she’s not a killer.

  That’s the thing about killers. They can be as unassuming as the next person and often are—right up until things get deadly.

  “What can I do for you?” Her smile expands, and I warm to the girl.

  “Oh, actually, my husband and I signed up for the game, and then it occurred to me that since we’re married it might go against the rules. And seeing that we’re both big on following all the rules I thought I’d make sure it was okay with you first.”

  She frowns as she takes a moment to inspect me. Who confesses to following all the rules? A Miss Goody Two-Shoes, that’s who. I gave up on following the rules a long time ago—and I’ve had more fun because of it, too. And for a second there I was starting to like her.

  Hey? What’s not to like?

  “It’s more than fine,” she says. “In fact, most of our winners have been longtime married couples. I’m sure you’ll do great. Just remember to have fun with it.”

  The bartender slides a shot glass filled with brown liquid her way and she takes it.

  “I’d better prepare for the game.” She knocks back that shot glass like a hero and shudders. “Antidote for jangled nerves. Works every time. I highly recommend it. I’ll see you soon!” She darts toward the back and my shoulders sag.

  “Strike out?” Jasper crops up out of nowhere.

  “I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “Bizzy.” Jasper lays those translucent peepers over mine. “I thought we said we’d approach her together?”

 

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