“Excuse me, ladies,” Jordy says as he lands his ball cap back on his head and rises. “I’ve got to check the electrical panels. The way those breakers were going off yesterday you’d think we really do have a ghost around here.”
“We don’t have a ghost,” I whisper. “And I wouldn’t say that out loud. Grady is convinced we have one rearranging our office supplies at the front desk.” The words that Willow said last night about Ember haunting Macy come back to mind, and I shake the thought out of my head.
Jordy takes off, and I shudder just thinking about having something nefarious and otherworldly going on right here in Cider Cove.
“Don’t worry, Bizzy.” Emmie takes another kitten from me. “Macy will be proven innocent. Feisty, but innocent.”
I nod. “And that feisty behavior is exactly why we’re on the long road to clearing her name.”
The kittens in her hands mewl.
“What are they saying, Bizzy?” Emmie squeals with excitement. Last month after Emmie found out that both Leo and I can read the human and the animal mind, she’s been having lively conversations with both her dog, Cinnamon, and Leo’s golden, Gatsby. Not that she wasn’t before.
The one in her left arm looks up at her and yowls, You don’t smell like a killer. When will we find a home?
The one in her other arm mewls, A home without a killer, please.
The furry cutie in my basket lets out a little yip. I hope they serve Fancy Beast like Bizzy.
I quickly translate, and both Emmie and I have a laugh over it.
“I’m going to find you all good homes,” I tell them. “And I will make sure you are well supplied with Fancy Beast cat food. It’s Fish’s favorite, too.”
Emmie moans. “I’d keep you all myself if I knew my dog wouldn’t use you as chew toys.”
“It wouldn’t be a far cry from what Sherlock is doing to them at my place.” I’m about to fill Emmie in on the adorable way the kittens nestle up against Sherlock’s belly at night when I spot Marigold Sweet at the counter. I quickly excuse myself and head on over.
“Marigold?” I say as I come upon the polished looking brunette. Her hair is glossy and pin straight as it hangs below her neck, and she’s wrapped in a peach trench coat as if she just came from a brisk walk in the autumn air. Her eyes glow like emeralds, and I wish mine would look half as entrancing. She really is a beautiful woman. “How are you liking the inn?” She checked in yesterday morning, but this is the first I’m seeing her.
“Oh, it’s so great here.” She gives each of the kittens in my arms a quick scratch on the forehead. “Just try to get rid of me. My husband isn’t coming back for another two weeks. He says Ember would have wanted him to finish out his trip. He’s right, but I could sure use him around.” Not really. At least not yet. I need these feelings to die out. I’d hate for Warner to see me this way. I’m never jumpy, and if I’ve been anything since Ember bit the big one, it’s been jumpy.
I nod because that’s completely understandable. Ember’s death has me jumpy, and I wasn’t nearly as close.
She glances to her phone. “I’ll be taking care of the details, making arrangements, and whatnot. I’m afraid it will be nothing more than meetings with the morgue, with my husband’s attorneys. Her father doesn’t want a big to-do for her. We just want to get through this.” She ticks her head over at the kittens. “These cats are so adorable.” She coos, and they both mewl up at us.
Is she taking us home, Bizzy? one calls out.
Is she the killer? another cries.
Even though the kittens were in the alley at the time the killing occurred, they were emphatic that they could only see Ember.
“I spoke with Willow yesterday,” I tell Marigold. “She says she’s not reopening the shop. I guess they had a break-in.”
“A break-in?”
I nod. “She said the store was trashed, products were everywhere. I think she’s afraid whoever did it might come back.”
“I bet it was Ember.” Her fingers float to her lips. “She used to say the world couldn’t get rid of her. If she had her way, she’d come back to haunt us all. And she has, Bizzy.” Her chest pants wildly. “I woke up this morning to the sound of glass breaking. I was alone in my room and a vase that was sitting on the dresser knocked over. We didn’t have an earthquake. And I was sound asleep up until that point. She’s haunting me. I’m positive of it. And she’s doing it to Willow, too. She hated all of us.”
“Why did she hate you?”
Marigold’s chest pumps with a dry laugh. I could write a book, the list is so long. But I’m guessing this isn’t the time for that.
“She can’t stand the fact that I married her father. She called me arm-candy for a solid year.” She averts her eyes. “Ember was a spoiled little brat, and she never bothered to hide the fact. She cared more about her father’s money than she did him.”
“I take it he’s a wealthy man.”
“Generational wealth, mostly from oil.” She nods. “It’s a crime for one man to have so much money. But then, he’s got Ember and me to spend it all. And believe me when I say, we were giving it all we’ve got.”
We share a small laugh.
“What about Willow?” I shrug her way. “What do you think of her?” Maybe I could wrangle the truth from Marigold. I just know Willow was holding out on us last night about something.
She gives a quick glance over her shoulder. “Willow Taylor, if that is her real name, had some issues with her past. I don’t know all the details, but Ember mentioned something once about owning her. She said when they met, Willow confessed to moving from Vermont because she was wanted on some petty theft charges. I guess her grandmother lives out this way. But she met up with Ember—and boy, did that poor girl pick the wrong person to unload her life on. Ember loved to have dirt on people. Manipulating their destinies was her favorite game. She already had all the money she could want.” Mostly. “She wanted the power.”
“Petty theft, huh?” I make a face. “I would think that would give Ember enough leverage to make her do anything she wanted. Including opening a candle shop with whatever funds she had.” And not going to nursing school.
“That’s right.” Marigold blows out a breath as she looks toward the kitchen. “Ember Sweet wasn’t so sweet after all. But it’s no surprise to her father or me. She was just a product of the environment she was raised in. I used to think there was hope for her. But it’s too late for that.” Maybe with time, she would have softened. But that’s not a risk any of the people she was actively threatening were willing to take.
My eyes widen. People wanted Ember Sweet dead. Lots of people. That means I need to interrogate those very people again and again until something begins to make sense.
A thought comes to me.
“Marigold, my sister feels really bad about everything.” Or at least she should. “Especially because of the way she was acting that day. She wants to hold a candlelight vigil outside of her shop, and I told her I’d help get people to come. It’s looking like it’s going to take place next Friday.” Because that date just so happens to work for me. Here’s hoping I can get Macy to attend, let alone admit to people that she came up with the idea. Macy would no sooner hold a vigil for the girl than she would cook a turkey. But if she doesn’t do her part to track down the killer, she’ll be the one who’s stuffed—right into a prison cell. “Willow said I should try to track down one of her exes. Hunter something?”
“Hunter Knox.” She cringes. “Ember made quick work of him. Let’s just say he’s a prime example of what happened when you crossed her.” Her body indulges in a mean shiver. “He used to be a well-respected pharmacist, but I think he’s working at the docks now. I’m not exactly sure. I haven’t seen him in a while.” Marigold’s order number is called, and she holds the ticket my way. “It’s time to relax with some pumpkin spice pancakes. And I put in for a half dozen of those donuts on the side. Boy, are they delicious.”
“They are.
Enjoy.”
“I will.” She takes off to collect her tray. I’ll especially enjoy the donuts knowing that Ember Sweet got her just desserts with exactly this delicious treat. The irony of it all will never escape me.
The irony won’t escape me either.
Jasper orders up his waffles, and I sit with him as we discuss the case.
Ember Sweet wasn’t so sweet after all.
And unfortunately, that just opens the suspect pool right up.
Anybody could have done it, I suppose—with the exception of Macy, of course.
Let’s just hope there’s no more physical evidence linking her to the scene of the crime. Or she might just fry yet, and the killer will have plenty to be thankful for this holiday season.
Chapter 7
The wind blows through Main Street like an icy poltergeist bent on vengeance as Jasper and I enter Lather and Light, my sister’s soap and candle shop.
Instantly, the warm scent from a vanilla candle ignites my senses, and I have the sudden urge to curl up with a good book and read by the fire. Emmie offered to watch the kittens while Jasper and I came down to all but apprehend my cagey sister. And knowing Macy, I’ll need both of my arms and my legs to do it.
The shop is painted a warm shade of coffee, and dotted along the entire store are old oak barrels brimming with my sister’s merchandise. A few rustic looking tables line the middle of the store, leading all the way back to the register, and on each one is an artful display of soaps and candles in every shape and size. Everywhere you look fall décor is lining the shelves and walls. There are enough silk maple leaves in here to outfit every barren tree on Main Street. There’s just something about the orange and red leaves that gives me that warm homey feeling.
A few pumpkins are set out throughout the shop, and there’s an oversized cornucopia on the counter in front of the register with colorful purse-size bottles of hand sanitizer spilling out of it. But that lavender wisteria tree bejeweled in twinkle lights that sits in her bay window is the crowning jewel of this place. Macy has hung miniature pumpkin and turkey ornaments from its branches, and in a few weeks she’ll decorate it for Christmas as well.
It’s hard to believe the same woman who owns and runs this innocent establishment is a person of interest in an active homicide investigation. That is, unless you’ve met my sister. Then it’s entirely believable.
Macy looks up from helping out a small group of customers and quickly excuses herself as she makes her way over. Her hair is loose and freshly washed, and her blue eyes are heavily outlined with dark kohl and it really makes them pop. She’s donned her signature leather jacket, this time in a dark maroon, and she’s got a pair of cute little booties on her feet to match.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” Her hot pink lips stretch into a smile. “You don’t really have a cat with you, right?” She eyes my purse because I’ve been known to haul a feline or two around with me.
“Not today,” I sing, trying not to sound too suspicious.
She squints over at the two us. “Oh, I get it. You’re here to up your game in the bedroom.” She makes a face at Jasper. “She’s stalling out on you already, huh?”
I scoff at the thought. “I’m not staling out.”
Her chest bucks with a laugh. “If she’s as fun in the sack as she is on the street, I feel sorry for you. Hot tip: my sister gravitates toward dessert-scented candles. And if you really want to get her in a good mood, I’d feed her something sweet to go along with it. Ooh”—her eyes grow wide—“like those poison donuts I supposedly fed to Ember?” She makes a face as she glances behind her. “You know, when I came in this morning, I found all the front displays toppled over.” She nods my way as if I should know where this is headed. “I think she’s after me.”
“What?” I shake my head. “I don’t think that was the work of a ghost. That was probably a break-in. Jasper”—I turn his way—“that’s exactly what happened to the shop across the street. Maybe we’ve got a candle-loving burglar on our hands?”
His brows bounce with amusement. “I’ll check on that as soon as I get back to my desk. Macy, I’m going to help you set up a security camera in your shop.” He purses his lips. “But we’re not here for candles this morning. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to come down to Seaview with me. We need to take your fingerprints and a few samples of your hair and skin cells.”
Her eyes sharpen over mine. “Well, well. It looks as if I’m about to spend the rest of the morning at the Seaview Day Spa. But I’ll have to be home in time for dinner. I have a hot date tonight.”
Jasper chuckles to himself. “You’ll be back in plenty of time. But I wouldn’t leave the state if I were you. If Ember has your DNA on her person, this is going to get serious quickly.”
Macy takes a breath. Perfect. Not only have I set myself up to look like the killer, I’m probably going to fry for killing the witch. If only I had done the deed, it would have been worth it. A smile flickers on her lips. But I’ll have the last laugh. I always do. And I’ll have it with both Hunter and Flint.
I groan at the thought that just blew through her mind.
“Excuse me, Jasper. I’d like to have a word alone with my sister.” I pull her over toward the discounted Halloween merchandise, one of which is a tin haunted house no bigger than a foot high that holds about a half a dozen votive candles to make it look as if it’s glowing from the inside. I’ve had my eye on it ever since last year, and now that it’s practically free, it’s coming home with me. “That hot date you have tonight”—my lips press tightly because I’m half-tempted to out the fact I just pried into her depraved mind—“who is it with? And don’t lie to me. I can read you like a book.” More than she’ll ever know.
She sighs a moment. “Okay, fine. It’s with one of Ember’s exes.”
I suck in a hard breath. “Hunter Knox?”
“You know him?” She looks momentarily thrown by the fact. “Of course, you do. You’re Bizzy Baker Wilder, supersleuth extraordinaire. Boy, what you lack in the kitchen or the bedroom, you certainly make up for in the investigative field. And good thing, too, because you’re running out of rooms.”
“Would you leave me out of this? How could you date her ex? Why are you dating her ex? Don’t you know you look guilty enough?”
“Calm down. I was talking to Hunter as early as last week.” Right after Ember threatened me for dating her current boyfriend.
I close my eyes a moment.
“Macy Baker,” I hiss as I swat her on the arm. “You were seeing Flint, too?” I couldn’t help it. I can only hold back so much.
Her mouth rounds out. “You really can read me like a book. And so what? He’s hot, and he kept coming around to meet his future constituents while campaigning for city council. You know I have a stud muffin radar that I can control no more than you can control being a killjoy. How was I supposed to know he was dating my nemesis? And by the time we had gone out a few times, it was too late. She found out and accused me of trying to steal her man. She told me to watch out because she was about to take a bite out of what was mine. That’s back a few weeks ago when she still had long brown hair. Fast-forward to the other day and I wasn’t just looking at a doppelgänger of my shop, I was looking at a mirror image of myself. Not as cute, of course. And those boots she had on? It just goes to show, money can’t buy taste.”
“Macy! The woman is dead. For goodness’ sake, when you get down to the station, please refrain from highlighting her lack of style. At least now we know why you ticked her off royalty. From what I hear, she was a loose cannon—blackmailing her way to power with any and everyone. It’s not a shocker she opened up that shop. You’re just lucky Willow doesn’t feel the same.” That conversation I had with Willow earlier comes to mind. “What did Ember do to Hunter?”
Macy blinks back. “Darned if I know.”
“Wait a minute. Does Hunter have dark blond hair?”
“Yeah, so?”
“
I think he might be the guy that I saw the day of the murder. He was having a heated exchange with Flint.”
She giggles to herself. “I bet they were fighting over me.”
“Or Ember.” I glance in the direction of the shop across the street. “Where’s Hunter taking you tonight?”
“Out.” There’s no way I’m telling her we’re headed to the Founders’ Day Jamboree down at the Montgomerys’ pumpkin patch. She’ll have to pry that info out of my cold, dead hands. The last thing I need is her poking around and ruining my hot date. I’ve got a bale of hay to roll around in, and my little sister isn’t a part of that naughty equation.
I nod as a smile flickers on my lips. “Let’s get this business at the sheriff’s department over with so you can get ready for that hot date of yours.”
I have a few ducks to set in a row myself. It looks as if I’ll be heading to the Founders’ Day Jamboree this evening.
Macy, Jasper, and I all head down to Seaview in a caravan. Huxley meets up with us, and Jasper escorts us to the forensics facility in the building that sits just behind the sheriff’s station.
We watch as Macy is fingerprinted, swabbed, and otherwise processed by the lab in what I’m hoping will prove her innocence. They pluck a few strands of hair from her head and send us on our way.
Outside, Huxley glowers at our sister. “Tell me right now if you did it.” The words come sharply from him. “The worst thing you can do is lie to your attorney.”
She glances to Jasper, and he quickly volunteers to step back into the building, citing the need to make a phone call.
“Macy.” I shake my head at her. “You didn’t do this. Right?”
She takes a breath as she glances to the row of evergreens across the street.
“I’m not the one who finished her off, but let’s just say those lab results won’t come back in my favor. We may have had a physical altercation shortly before she perished.”
A hard groan comes from both Huxley and me.
A Frightening Fangs-giving Page 7
