Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17)

by Addison Moore

  “I don’t mind at all. The more the merrier. Bartender,” she shouts his way. “We’ve got a party.”

  The four of us take a seat along the counter and put in our drink orders.

  “So where are they?” Magnolia says as she rabidly examines me with her eyes. “The cats? My cats. What have you done with them?” Good Lord, Ryan, that piece of trash, has beaten me to them.

  A laugh gets caught in my throat. “They’re safe, I promise. They’re at my place with my cat and my dog.”

  “And my dog,” Macy says as she takes a glowing pink cocktail from the bartender. “My dog brought organic snacks to the party because some people here have been known to feed their pets food loaded with artificial ingredients and fillers.” She points her drink in my direction before knocking back half of it.

  “It’s true, she brought snacks,” I say, taking a moment to shoot my sister a look. “But I can assure you the food I’m feeding them is top quality.” I make a mental note to check the ingredients on the kibble when I get home. It’s not loaded with fillers, is it?

  “Well, that’s good.” Magnolia’s expression sours. I’ll have to switch their diets once they land in my care. I can’t have the overgrown rats living forever. I’ve got places to go and things to do. This is exactly why I won’t be having children either.

  My mouth squares out in horror.

  I can cross Magnolia right off the list when it comes to giving those cute cats a home, but then, she was never really on it to begin with due to her supposed allergies.

  She nods my way. “So when can I pick them up?”

  Georgie wags a finger at her. “Not so fast, Maggie May. Bizzy here has to do her due diligence in winnowing out just the perfect pet parent for those two furry cuties. She’s not giving them away willy-nilly.” Georgie leans in hard her way. “If you play your cards right, you can wheel and deal with this one and she’ll make sure you go home with the fat cats in question.”

  “Oh, I see.” Magnolia curves her back over the counter as she looks to Georgie. “This all comes down to negotiations, doesn’t it?” Of course. She frowns my way. Bizzy wants a cut of the cash, and whoever can give her the biggest slice of the financial pie will get to play with kitty litter until those hairballs kick the bucket.

  “No.” I shake my head at her emphatically. “Absolutely zero negotiations or bribes are allowed. I’m quite comfortable financially.”

  I bite down over my lip because after all of the mishaps at the inn today, I’m pretty sure that’s a lie.

  More to the point, I’m comfortable financially so long as my life ends this weekend.

  I should up my life insurance so at least Jasper could have a nice life. Of course, he’ll probably remarry. He’s quite the catch.

  I glower at the counter a moment.

  In that case, I hope he and his new bride don’t have two dimes to call their own. They can up their own life insurance.

  “Bizzy?” Macy shakes her head my way. “She asked you a question.”

  “What’s that?” I try my hardest to perk back to life after that dark U-turn I seem to have taken. Suddenly, I’m mildly angry with Jasper for replacing me so quickly even if it was a fictional scenario. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you. The music is so loud.”

  Magnolia waves it off. “It’s noisy. I should have picked somewhere a little more intimate.” I can’t do anything right. “I was just asking if you’ve met up with Kadence or Ryan.” Lord knows if I asked either of them they wouldn’t tell me the truth. We’ve been competitive before, but never for money. And face it, this game of cat’s eye is for all of the marbles.

  “No, I haven’t met up with either of them.”

  “Oh, thank heavens.” She nearly knocks my tonic water off the counter when she tosses up her hands.

  A thought hits me and I wince. “Actually, I did speak to your sister.”

  The woman’s mood shifts on a dime.

  “But that was before the reading of the will,” I assure her.

  “I see.” She studies the ceiling a moment. I bet I somehow came up in that conversation. And since Kadence never has anything nice to say about me, I’d better start in on damage control. “So did she tell you about her little—well, I guess you would call it a quirk.” She laughs a little too hard, and according to the look in her eye, I’d say she was about to spill the quirky beans.

  Georgie lifts the glowing green goo in her glass. “Don’t keep us in suspense, sister. What’s the dirt on the girl?”

  Macy leans in. “Is she a high-priced escort?”

  “What?” Magnolia inches back. “No, this is Kadence we’re talking about.” Not me. Not that I’m an escort.

  Georgie lifts a finger. “She’s a jewel thief. But here’s the thing—she’s already done prison time for it because she wasn’t any good at it.”

  Magnolia shakes her head. “She’s not that exciting, I can promise you that.”

  Macy gasps. “She has a boyfriend who was a jewel thief, and she visits him on the weekend. I hear those conjugal visits can get pretty steamy.”

  Magnolia bucks with a laugh. “You’re telling me.” She looks my way and straightens. “Not that I would know. Okay, fine. I might know, but I’m not making rounds at the local men’s correctional facility anymore.”

  “Enough about yourself already,” Georgie growls. “Back to your slimy sister.”

  “Georgie.” I give a nervous laugh.

  When will I learn that she’s more of a liability than she is an asset?

  “Oh, oh!” Macy raises her hand and wiggles in her seat as if she were in school. “I know, she’s laundering dirty money for the mob out of that nursery.”

  Magnolia shakes her head. “I don’t think Maine is exactly a hot spot for mobsters. And my sister is too much of a goody two-shoes to get involved in something like that anyways. What I was going to say is she’s in a band.”

  “A band?” the three of us say in unison.

  Magnolia gives an emphatic nod as if she just delivered the smoking gun. “And she plays the tambourine.” She extends the name of that happy instrument as if it were a four-letter word. “She’s gone three nights a week for practice and local gigs. I’d hate to have those cats roaming around in Kadence’s townhouse all by their lonesome while she’s off slapping those annoying little cymbals against her hip well into the night. It’s practically abusive just to think about it.” She gives a dramatic sniff. “Makes me want to cry a river for those poor under attended babies. Aunt Bea would roll over in her grave if she thought Kadence would treat them like nothing more than a couple of throw pillows.” Hey? Can you have cats stuffed into pillows? Now that’s something I’d like to look into.

  My mouth falls open at the horrible thought. “Thank you for letting me know about Kadence and her little tambourine hobby. What about you? What keeps you busy during the day?”

  “And night,” Georgie adds. “I bet you’re making a little music in the evenings yourself, aren’t you? And I bet your instrument of choice is a tall, muscular man who wears a suit by day and wields a leash by night.”

  “Georgie,” I hiss.

  “What?” she squawks my way. “Can’t a girl fantasize about a big, strong man who likes to take his dog for a walk in the evenings?”

  Magnolia chuckles. “You’re hysterical, Georgie.” She winks over the rim of her drink as she takes another quick sip. “I’m actually between jobs right now.” At least that’s the truth. “I used to run accounts receivable down at the harbor at one of the trinket shops. They got all of their goods from China, but everything they sold had Maine printed across it. And then for a while I worked in my cousin Ryan’s office.”

  Macy nods. “Were you his secretary?”

  “No, more like his secretary’s secretary. That didn’t last long.” Because I quit. I was worth twice the money, and he knew it. Besides, I was about to lose my condo. “I needed something that was more able to accommodate my needs, so I started modelin
g.”

  “Modeling?” I take a quick look at her. She’s beautiful, so it shouldn’t surprise me, but something doesn’t sit well. “As in catwalks and magazine covers?”

  “More like private tutorials.”

  That conversation I had with Bea at her birthday party comes back to me.

  That’s right. Bea said that Magnolia thinks she’s a socialite but didn’t have the finances to back it. She also said that she thought Magnolia was selling racy pictures to make a living. I bet that’s where the modeling comes in.

  “So what do you model?” Macy asks as I take back what I said about my stance on not bringing these two along.

  With their lack of a filter, I might actually get some mileage out of tonight. If anything, it might spur an internal dialogue in the suspect.

  I take a quick swig of my tonic water as I await her answer.

  “My feet,” Magnolia says without missing a beat, and both Georgie and I nearly spit out our drinks.

  I land my tonic water on the bar carefully. “Your feet? As in footwear?”

  “Yup.” She nods. “But without the footwear, unless you count nail polish. The men I sell to prefer to see me in the nude.” She gives a cheeky wink.

  “Your feet?” Macy balks. “Do people actually pay for this?”

  A husky laugh bounces from Magnolia. “I make good money. Scratch that, I make great money.” She looks my way. “But not great enough for me to turn away a couple of cats sitting on a pile of money. If you give those creatures to me, I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of.”

  Macy tugs at the woman’s sleeve. “Exactly how much money are we talking? Enough to buy a decent car in a year?”

  “Pfft.” Magnolia gives her a sideways glance. “Try nice enough to buy a brand new car in a month. And I don’t even need to leave my condo to do it. I just get a pedicure twice a month and take a few racy shots of my toes. I upload at a site called Hungry Fans. I signed up last winter, and am I ever glad I did. They saved me.”

  “I’ve heard of them,” Georgie says. “It’s a subscription app where a bunch of hungry men pay a monthly fee to get their fill of whatever they want.”

  “Exactly.” Magnolia nods. “And in my case, they want feet.” I’ve tried other body parts, but they didn’t garner nearly enough to be worth my trouble. “Apparently, feet are big business. I get a lot of international customers, too. For a little extra, I take requests. And I always give them what they want.”

  “What kind of requests?” Macy’s ear hikes up a notch, letting me know she’s highly interested in the conversation at hand—or feet as it were.

  “You know, they want to see me running through a fresh lawn, or spraying my feet down with the hose. Some people want to see me stepping on a piece of chocolate cake. And once I had a request to step on raw eggs.”

  Macy’s mouth falls agape. “I can do that.”

  “Sure you can.” Magnolia backs up a bit in her seat. “Let’s see what you’ve got to work with.”

  Before you can say foot fetish, Macy has kicked off her heels and is showing off ten pink toes and what looks to be a couple of bunions in the works from the shoes, that come to find out, are just as tight as the dress she’s stuffed herself into.

  “Oh wow, you’re going to do great.” Magnolia shakes her head down at the feet in question. “And it’s a niche market. There are only a couple dozen girls doing it, so you’ll practically be getting in on the ground floor.”

  Georgie kicks off her slip-on sneakers. “What about me?”

  About three different men let out a cry of terror at the sight of Georgie’s feet, as does Macy.

  “My eyes!” Macy slaps her hand over her face. “Georgie, put those tired dogs away before we get arrested.”

  Magnolia chuckles. “You would do great as well, Georgie. Believe me when I say, there’s someone out there who will go for anything.”

  I make a face at the inadvertent insult.

  “Oh, honey.” Georgie gravels out a husky laugh as she pulls an ornate silver flask out of her purse and wiggles it our way. “I’ve got a secret weapon those men won’t see coming. It doesn’t matter if they can see it, feel it, taste it—just knowing that I’ll be applying my Passion Potion will send them a titter. Nothing attracts strong, handsome men like my homemade liquid gold.”

  A muscular man with biceps that look as if they were blown up like balloons comes over and grunts at Georgie. He’s wearing a thick black muscle shirt and a pair of weird tights, and judging by the diamonds drawn onto his face I’d say he was a part of this strange cast that works at the place—either that or one of Juni’s ex-boyfriends is on the lam.

  He scoops Georgie up into his arms and takes off in the direction of the ring with her just as the lights blink on and off.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” a man dressed in a top hat and a coat with tails calls out from the middle of the ring. “It’s time to begin the greatest show on earth! Or at least in our little corner of Maine.”

  The audience gives a light applause.

  “Would tonight’s lucky guests please come down to the floor when I call your name?” He rattles off about a half dozen names before he belts out, “Ree Baker!”

  A shrill scream goes off as my mother proceeds to lose it.

  “That’s the woman that birthed me.” I nod over to Magnolia.

  And I can’t help but note that the strong man has taken Georgie to the center of the ring as well. Looks as if the real show is about to begin. I hope this place has a great insurance policy. If either of those women breaks a hip, someone will have to pay for their injuries and the emotional distress I’ll suffer taking care of them.

  I glance back at Magnolia, who looks just as rapt at attention as I do. I’d better speed this up.

  “Magnolia, who do you think could have done something so horrible to your Aunt Bea?”

  “Wasn’t me.” She shakes her head with a little too much vigor. God knows if she finds out I was the last person to see that ball of negativity alive, she’ll make sure I never see those cats again.

  So she did see Bea. Kadence had mentioned—albeit to herself—that she saw her sister leave the stockroom.

  “Do you have any idea who could have done this?” I ask with a little less softness in my voice. I have a feeling I’m inches from a full-blown confession.

  “Ryan.” She nods as if it were a given.

  “Ryan?” Macy whines as she says his name. “The hottie with a suit? Bizzy, why is it always the hottie in the suit who goes rogue and starts killing people?”

  “It’s not always the hottie in the suit,” I say while looking right at Magnolia. “What makes you think he did it?”

  “He confessed to me.”

  I nearly fall out of my seat. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Okay, so he didn’t confess to actually doing the deed, but he said he could have killed her at least a dozen times before that day. That’s practically a confession. Besides, I need to cast a damaging light over him. He has those beauty parlors his mother left him. He has his real estate license. And what do I have to secure my future? A bunch of drunk men drooling over my feet. Cute as they may be, I’m getting tired of finding new ways to regale them and stay ahead of the cuticle curve. Sure, it’s a niche market with lots of potential, but it’s still competitive enough to keep me annoyed. I want to lounge by the pool with a cold drink. That’s the future I deserve. And if throwing Ryan under the bus is what gets me there, then so be it.

  I frown over at the woman.

  I’ll bite.

  “Magnolia, why in the world would Ryan kill his own aunt?”

  “He needed the money.” She shrugs. “He told me so himself that day at the birthday party. All three of his shops are in disrepair. And, in fact, I think he said a building inspector shut down two of them. Plumbing, electrical, they need a total overhaul, and that’s going to cost more than a few dollars.”

  “Tell me about it. My inn suddenly has t
he very same needs. What are the names of his beauty shops?”

  “All Dolled Up,” she says. “His mother named them. She used to take immaculate care of them, but Ryan just prefers to collect the rent. He’s been so hands-off, I suspect his employees are ripping him off and he doesn’t know it.” I know it because a few of them happen to be my friends. “Anyway, that night he said he was going to ask Aunt Bea for a loan, one last time. He left to do just that, and about twenty minutes later, you found her, dead as a doornail—with her scarf wrapped around her neck.”

  “It was Arlene’s scarf,” I point out.

  The music picks up again and an entire army of elegant looking clowns takes over the ring doing who knows what with my mother and Georgie. There are so many bodies blocking my view, I can’t properly make out the carnage.

  The shrill scream of a woman goes off, and Macy and I exchange a look before we bolt over toward the ring, only to find Juni being stuffed into a cannon as a ridiculously muscular strongman sets a hoop on fire in front of it.

  Georgie howls once again, and it’s then I realize the scream came from her.

  “That’s my baby,” she shouts. “Make Mama proud, Juniper Moonbeam! And if things go south, I’ll keep your ashes until someone offers up top dollar for them!”

  A tiny laugh circles the room, only I don’t think she was kidding.

  A couple of women are allowed to walk a line of pink poodles around the periphery of the circle, but I still can’t see my mother.

  “There she is,” Macy says, pointing up to a rope ladder that leads to a platform, what looks to be miles from the floor.

  I gasp at the sight. “Oh my word, please tell me she’s not going to fly across the room on that trapeze.”

  “I won’t say a word about Mom, but I think Georgie’s about to do it, too.” She points in the opposite direction, and sure enough, Georgie has climbed right to the top of the room and an employee is handing her the trapeze apparatus.

  A hearty moan comes from me. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to end well?”