Dog Days of Murder (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 2)

by Addison Moore

  I nod, seeing clearly how he got from point A to thorny-horny point C, as in Camila. “And you were kind enough to take it to her.”

  He winces. “Once I got there, she confessed to accidently buying two tickets and she was next up in line.”

  “And you hopped right onto the Haunted Ex-Girlfriend Express.” I shrink in my seat. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

  “I refused to go.” He shakes his head. “But she suggested it could be a good opportunity to talk so we could both move on without any strain between us.”

  I bite down over my lip as I cast another quick glance her way. “That sounds reasonable—I guess.”

  “It wasn’t.” Jasper takes a deep breath. “With all the other people screaming their heads off, we couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

  “Let me guess. She was so afraid herself, she hopped right onto your lap.”

  His eyes widen a notch. It’s like she was there. And how I wish I wasn’t.

  He gives a reluctant nod. “It’s true. But believe me, Bizzy, that’s when things came into focus and I put the manipulated pieces together.” And if I lose Bizzy over this, I will never forgive myself for being so gullible.

  A breath escapes me as I fill with relief, but my head and my heart are in two different places.

  “Look, Jasper, you and Camila had something for a very long time. I’m just someone you met a month ago.” My heart sinks as I relegate myself to such a trivial shelf. “I think maybe the two of you should talk so that you’re not in a strained place. I mean, we’re not officially together or anything.” Again, my heart aches as if it were about to explode. Of course, I want to be official with Jasper, but I have a feeling Camila will pull out all the stops to make sure that won’t happen.

  “We can be.” He reaches over and picks up my hand. “Bizzy, I don’t care if I’ve known you a month or ten years. I feel very strongly about you. And I don’t want to walk away from what we have.”

  “Then don’t. But do talk to Camila. Whenever you’re ready to do so, and might I suggest, you choose the venue.” I take a moment to frown over at her. “I just need your heart and your mind to be clear and open to another relationship and hopefully one with me. But if you decide to give it another go with Camila, I will totally understand that as well.”

  Liar, liar, Bizzy Baker on fire.

  I press out a short-lived smile.

  Jasper shakes his head, those lightning bolt eyes of his still very much pinned to mine. “I’ll talk to Camila, but only to bring closure to an already closed-off situation. I’m not remotely interested in her that way anymore.” His thumb bounces over my hand. “Tonight’s my sister’s big showing down in Seaview. I hope you haven’t changed your mind about coming. You’ll be my date. We’ll drive out together.”

  I bite down on my lip to keep from grinning like a loon who was just asked to the dance by the cute boy in class—even though it’s true in every adolescent sense.

  “Okay. But would you mind if another person tagged along with us?”

  He tips his head to the side. As long as it’s not Leo Granger.

  “It’s Georgie,” I mouth her name and his chest bounces with relief.

  “I guess it’s a double date then. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty?”

  “Sounds good.”

  He sits back a moment. A part of me wants to discuss the case with her, but another very real part of me doesn’t want to drag Bizzy into danger. I know she’s interested. But I’m too interested in keeping her safe to go there. Besides, once she sees who else will be at the showing tonight, I’m pretty sure her natural thirst for justice will take over.

  “I’ll swing by the cottage at six-thirty. I’ve got to run to the office.” Jasper pulls me up and lands a chaste kiss to my lips before taking off and leaving both my lips and curiosity thirsty for more.

  Who could be showing up tonight that has the ability to foster my thirst for justice?

  I suck in a quick breath as it hits me.

  A suspect!

  Perfect. I’ll have a romantic date with Jasper tonight and a shot at discovering who killed Shelby Harris.

  A breeze filled with sugary perfume takes over my senses just as Camila strides up.

  “I guess I’ll see you at the showing tonight, Bizzy.” Her lips curve with a malevolent smile. “Jasper’s sister, Ella, and I are such good friends.” And by the time I’m through with Jasper, he won’t know what hit him. Neither will you, Dizzy Baker.

  Her fingers flicker my way as she waves goodbye.

  A date, a suspect, and an obnoxious ex-girlfriend.

  I’m looking forward to two out of three.

  That’s not bad.

  But something tells me Camila Ryder is bad to the bone indeed.

  Chapter 8

  The Seaview County Museum of Art is a stunning building with a water display out front that shoots two stories into the sky. Inside, it’s polished and cosmopolitan, with expansive ceilings and a cavernous maze layout laden with oversized acrylic and oil paintings, all of which I’m looking forward to spending time admiring.

  Georgie hits the ground running as soon as we step inside the brightly lit museum, but Jasper pulls me to the side, that naughty smile twitching on his lips as he presses his gaze to mine.

  “Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?” The scent of his thick, spiced cologne has the power to hypnotize me just about as much as his eyes.

  “Only sixteen times on the way over. Georgie is beginning to wonder if I’ve fractured your mind.”

  A dull moan evicts from him. “Would you think less of me if I said you’ve fractured my mind and body?”

  A laugh bounces from me. “I’m not sure how to take that. But if I can kiss it and make it feel better, let me know.”

  “I’m officially putting you on notice.”

  “What’s this?” a female voice calls from behind and we turn to find the artist herself looking adorable in an A-line denim dress that accentuates her baby bump. She laughs as she pulls Jasper into a brief embrace. “Bizzy, I knew my brother was smitten, but I’ve never seen him like this.” She leans in. “Don’t tell Camila I said so.” She winces as she looks to Jasper. “Does she know about Camila?”

  “I do,” I say. “In fact, she’s staying—”

  “Right here.” Camila herself pops into our midst. “Jasper, that picture Ella did of us is on display in the ballroom.” She bites down on a devious crimson smile as her gaze slants my way a moment. “You must come and see it with me.” She takes him by the hand and Ella is quick to navigate them in that direction.

  “Bizzy?” he calls out for me.

  “I’ll be right there,” I say.

  Maybe. Most likely not.

  I make a face at the polished looking crowd. Everyone looks as if they were shipped in from upper Manhattan—and here I’m wearing my jeans and my favorite ruby red pea coat. Granted. I’ve donned my thigh-high black suede boots, which are borderline edgy and one hundred percent sexy, but a part of me still thinks I should have vetted my wardrobe choices a bit more.

  A familiar face waves to me from deeper into the room, and I’m more than relieved to see Macy standing there with a fruity looking cocktail in hand so I speed over to her.

  “See anything you like?” I ask as we take in the crowd. The paintings themselves are all tucked away in offshoot to the main hall, so I haven’t had the chance to ogle one just yet.

  Macy gurgles with a dark laugh. “I see everything I like. Who knew Jasper’s sister specialized in kink?”

  “In what?” My entire body grows rigid as I struggle to cast my eyes on a single oversized canvas.

  “Nudes.” Macy practically hisses the words, “As in naked dudes and chicks.”

  “No kidding?” A horrible thought hits me. “Oh my God. I’m going to faint or vomit.”

  Macy clicks her tongue at me. “Who knew my baby sis would grow up to be such a prude?”

  “Trust me, Macy. I’m no
prude. Jasper’s ex just dragged him off to look at a painting that Ella did of the two of them.”

  “Eww.” Macy looks as if she could puke, too, if she wanted. “Never mind that”—she shudders—“let’s focus on something far more important. Me.” She blinks a hot pink smile. “Guess what?”

  “I’m afraid to ask.” As of late, there have been an awful lot of surprises. But it will take a lot to top a nude picture of Jasper and Camila.

  “That group of hunky hotties who were at Ginger’s seminar the other night? They’re here in number. And they are all single and ready to mingle.”

  “What hunky hotties?” I suck in a quick breath as it comes to me. “Carter O’Riley and his testosterone squad?”

  “Yup.” Macy rocks back on her heels, licking her lips as if she were about to take a bite out of some serious beefcake. “And you can bet your mini muffins I’m taking one home with me.”

  I’m quick to swat her. “No, you’re not. You don’t even know their names. Don’t take anybody home. Or I might be moved to kill you.”

  Macy glowers at something just beyond me. “Rumor has it, our mother has been taking home a certain someone.”

  I suck in another sharp breath. At this rate, I’m liable to inhale every canvas in this place before the night is through. Although, if that’s what it takes to keep me from seeing Jasper and Camila’s nude review, then I might be all for it.

  I turn to find Mom laughing and having a wonderful time with Max Wilder strapped to her side.

  “They look so cute together,” I muse. Mom looks elegant in a simple black dress and Max has donned a dark suit—looking eerily like Jasper’s twin in the process. “My God, that’s not Jasper, is it?” I’m only half-kidding. It’s a mind-bender of another dimension when your own mother is getting hot and heavy with a look-alike of the man you’re hoping to get hot and heavy with yourself. I’m sure there’s a special place in a psychiatrist’s office for people like me.

  “Let’s find out if it’s your man.” Macy threads her arm through mine and speeds us over.

  Mom’s eyes widen a moment. “Hello, girls. Isn’t this wonderful?” She lifts the champagne flute a notch and her arm flails as if she were slightly tipsy—and I’m betting she is. My mother is notoriously bad at holding her liquor.

  We exchange polite hellos and Max—who looks suspiciously a heck of a lot more like Jasper tonight than he did the other day—leans in.

  “Have the two of you met the rest of the family?”

  “I’ve met your mother,” I volunteer, and for reasons that escape me, it comes out with a little laugh.

  Macy nods. “And we’ve met your sister.”

  Max lifts a brow to Macy. “Your mother says you’re anxious to meet my brothers.”

  A low, level growl emits from her. “Say goodbye to my mother, Max. Tonight, she dies a slow and painful death.”

  His brows twitch the exact way Jasper’s are prone to do. “If you promise to spare her life, I’ll introduce you to the two of them tonight.”

  Macy perks to life. “Mommy, have I mentioned how much I love your new boyfriend? He’s so charming and sweet, and I bet he has exquisite taste in siblings.”

  We share a warm laugh at my sister’s lunacy.

  No sooner does Max propose the scenario than he plucks two more Jasper look-alikes from the crowd.

  “Bizzy, Macy—this is my brother, Dalton.” He points to the one whose hair has a touch more auburn to it, but the same warm smile, same stunning gray eyes. “Dalton is the head football coach at Ward University.”

  Macy’s lips twitch with delight as she extends a hand his way. “What a coincidence. Both my sister and I went to Ward. Home run,” she says, indulging in a hearty shake.

  I lean in and whisper, “I think you mean touchdown.”

  Macy wrinkles her nose. “Oh, he’ll get that out of me, too.”

  Dalton belts out a laugh. That’s what I’m counting on, sweetheart.

  Mom and I exchange a look but for entirely different reasons.

  “And this”—Max pulls the darker-haired Jasper look-alike forward, only his eyes are blue through and through—“is Jamison. Attorney at law. Need to sue? See this guy right here.” He leans in. “Need to win? Maybe see your brother.”

  And I’m only partly teasing. Max slaps his brother on the back.

  A small laugh titters in our circle.

  Jamison offers us both a friendly shake. “Nice to meet you both.” He gives a wistful shake of the head my way. “Bizzy, you’ve stolen my brother’s sanity. Maybe the Wilders should look into suing you.”

  Another round of riotous laughter breaks out.

  Jamison’s eyes linger over me for a moment. Jasper always was the smart one. If he loses this one, I might have to sue him for stupidity.

  I offer a polite nod his way. I think I just found my favorite brother.

  And soon enough, my sister pulls both Dalton and Jamison to the side. If I’m not mistaken, it looks as if she’s conducting some sort of thorough interview with the two of them.

  Figures.

  My sister has always been one to cut right to the chase. Macy wants to snag herself a Wilder brother, and there are very few things in life that my sister goes after and doesn’t come away the victor.

  Mom and Max lean in, getting all moony-eyed and whispering things that illicit a very dirty grin in each of them, and my feet can’t carry me away fast enough.

  Good grief.

  If I had known Jasper was going to ditch me for his ex, I would have stayed home.

  A pair of arms wraps themselves around my waist, and I turn to find Jasper Wilder offering up a sheepish grin.

  “I see you met my brothers. I’m sorry. I was on my way over and my mother waylaid me.”

  Why do I get the feeling Camila and Gwyneth are working in tandem to keep us apart?

  Jasper winces. I shouldn’t have said that. She’s going to think my mother is rooting for Camila. He frowns just past me. She might be, but I’ll be the last to tell Bizzy.

  My mouth falls open. But before I can wrap my brain around his brutal honesty, I spot an all too familiar ex-boyfriend who happened to belong to Shelby Harris at one time.

  “Jasper, look,” I whisper. “Carter is here. He’s the suspect you were hinting at, isn’t he?”

  A dark laugh brews in his chest as he turns to see him. “That’s what I like about you, Bizzy. There is no mystery too small that you won’t solve. Yes, that’s the suspect du jour for the evening. But I don’t want either of us to press him.”

  “What? Jasper, this is the perfect opportunity to do so. He’s all but ours for the taking.”

  He frowns in that direction. “Have you seen my sister’s work yet?”

  “Her work?” I glance around suspiciously. “No, but I’m sure every piece is lovely. Let’s go.” I try to wrangle him in that direction, but he pivots us into an enclave instead.

  “Wow.” I press my face to his shoulder a moment. “Jasper, they’re all naked.”

  “That they are.”

  I slowly pry my lids open. “And they’re so—very lifelike.”

  “And that they are, too.”

  “Jasper, you said she painted you and Camila.” A horrible groan comes from me without meaning to. “I refuse to see that. Please tell me you didn’t pose for a sitting.”

  “No.” A set of comma-like dimples appears on either side of his mouth. “And—well, I think the painting should speak for itself.”

  He navigates us over to the next installment space.

  “I can’t look,” I wail, trying my best to walk with my eyes closed.

  “I promise you will not have a problem with it.”

  “That’s what you think. And by the way, I’m beginning to wonder about how you think.”

  He pulls me close and his chest bounces against my side. “Open.”

  My lids flutter slowly and, sure enough, we’re standing in front of an oversized canvas that takes up nea
rly the entire wall. It’s a dark landscape—a little hard to make out. It looks like headstones and a hillside along with a charred tree of some sort.

  “Jasper, is this a scene from a cemetery?”

  He nods as he stares out at it.

  I squint at it. “And are those a couple of bats in the tree?”

  “That would be correct.”

  I take in the picture in its totality, and it looks straight from the scene of some Halloween nightmare with ghosts and pumpkins and even a hand coming up out of a grave.

  “Wait a minute,” I say. “You’re the bats?”

  “We’re the bats.” He leans in. “If you look closely, you’ll see Camila has horns and a tail.”

  My fingers float to my lips to keep from laughing. “Oh, Jasper. Why do I get the feeling Ella isn’t Camila’s biggest fan?”

  “Because you’re intuitive.” He pulls me in tight and a naughty grin slides up one side of his face once again. “I’m sure Camila wanted you to think the worst. And perhaps her intentions are to land us back together. But I promise, there is nothing anyone can do to take me away from you.”

  The sound of heels clacking this way erupts just as his mother appears at the entry to the alcove.

  “Jasper?” Gwyneth’s dark hair is pulled back, she’s clad in black, save for the caustic shade of red lipstick, and she happens to sneer when she sees us locked in an embrace. “Hello, Bizzy.” Her expression falls flat. “Jasper, your sister needs help unloading a few items from her car. She brought trinkets for the guests. Apparently, there are several of them. Your brothers suggested I find you.”

  Jasper’s chest expands. “I’ll be right back.”

  “And I’ll”—I point back to the haunted painting—“be hanging out with the lovebirds.”

  He offers a quick peck to my cheek before taking off with his mother.

  And that’s my cue. I tiptoe to the front of the alcove, happy to see he’s already out of sight. I spot Carter right away in the crowd over by the refreshment table where an entire throng of men is capitalizing off both the moment and their hormones as they speak to a gaggle of girls. He’s dressed in a suit, although he looks as if he’s uncomfortable in his own skin at the moment and I wonder if it’s because he’s grieving.