Felines and Fatalities (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 6)

by Addison Moore

  “Career hazard”—Hailey glances to the ceiling—“if you can call this a career.” She eyes me a moment. I wonder what she wants? Why do I get the feeling she tracked me down?

  I shake my head as if responding to her. “We were just making a bar run,” I say. “We’re here with family and friends. Lottie’s from out of town, and her daughter insisted on coming to see the attraction.”

  “That’s right,” Lottie says. “She heard there were hot pirates here.” She says hot pirates with air quotes.

  “Oh, I see.” Hailey nods. Believable, I suppose. “It’s been a steady stream of teenagers all summer. I hope you enjoy the show. It’s always a little different every night.” In fact, I’ll find out where they’re seated and make sure they really enjoy it.

  My eyes enlarge as she momentarily derails me from the task at hand.

  “Hailey?” I lean in. “Since you’re here, can I ask if you happened to see anything odd that day at the inn?”

  She shifts from side to side. “No arrest yet, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  She sighs as she squints over my shoulder. “Let’s see. I think there was that big double wife reveal. That was kind of odd.”

  “I so agree,” I say. “Did you know either of the wives?”

  Her mouth opens then closes. I probably shouldn’t deny anything. I don’t see the point.

  “One of the wives is an acquaintance of mine,” she whispers it like a secret. “We used to be neighbors in Bangor.” She angles my way. “She worked at some paper—in charge of word searches and crosswords, things like that.”

  Lottie glances at me. Like riddles?

  Hailey almost drops a glass off her tray. “I’d better set this down. Enjoy the show. It starts soon!” She takes off, and Lottie and I get back to our seats just in time to put in our orders. The entire table asks for the turkey leg special with a side of Captain Jack’s stew—with the exception of Evie who orders chicken sand dollars from the kiddie menu. Nonetheless, a round of pirate’s punch is served to the entire table.

  Jasper bears those searing gray eyes into mine. You found a suspect, didn’t you?

  My lips invert, giving me away all on their own.

  Bizzy. He cinches his cheek with a touch of disappointment, and I can’t help but note how alarmingly handsome he looks doing it.

  The lights flicker as a shock of blue spotlights falls over the stage.

  “Ahoy, maties! Avast!” a deep voice rumbles from the speakers overhead. “We hope you’re enjoying your voyage along exotic waters. A landlubber me is, and I’ve yet to take a step on a dingy ship. But ye be brave. I hear there be pirates in these here parts.” He belts out a maniacal laugh as his voice fades to nothing. “Arrrgh!” he shouts loud as thunder. “It appears they’ve arrived. You’re on your own.”

  The lights flash and the music kicks on as a group of a half dozen men appear on stage, breaking out in song. Soon enough, a bevy of wenches joins them and there’s a sword fight threatening to break out.

  The head pirate steps forward. “Any of you maties out there willing to duel for a beauty?”

  The spotlights spin around in a dizzying display before landing square over our table.

  I look to Lottie.

  Here it is. Hailey’s insurance that we’d enjoy the show. Why do I get the feeling this is going to fall along the lines of revenge?

  Evie bounces in her seat. “Pick my dad! Pick my dad! He and my uncle Noah have been battling it out for my mom!” She practically shoves the three of them on stage.

  “What’s this?” The pirate laughs with amusement. “Two maties battling it out for this redheaded beauty?”

  Lottie’s hair is more of a caramel-color, but with all the amber lights pouring over her, it does look a peculiar shade of crimson.

  Lottie does her best to deny it, but before you can say shiver me the heck out of here, she’s tied up to a post and a bandana placed over her mouth to keep her quiet.

  Noah and Everett are outfitted with swords, and judging by that sly look in Everett’s eye, I’m suddenly thinking this may not be the best idea.

  Noah and Everett start in on a seemingly innocent clash of blades. That is, until it starts to get a little too animated.

  Bizzy? Lottie makes eye contact with me. We need to stop them. They’re going to maim each other, or worse.

  She might be right. But I’m sure those swords are dull—or at least I would hope so.

  Everett slashes at Noah’s chest and a long tear appears in Noah’s dress shirt much to the delight of the crowd.

  Bizzy! She practically shouts my way. Ask Jasper to intervene. Tell him to pull out his badge, or better yet, fire a few shots into the air!

  I nod her way and I do just that.

  Jasper hops up on stage in an effort to defuse the dueling duo and I hop up right after him and do my best to untie Lottie.

  The pirates come out in droves, and soon I’m tied to Lottie’s back with my very own bandana gagging my mouth.

  Jasper, Noah, and Everett are challenged to a sword fight with an entire gang of rogue pirates—one of which tosses a sword to Jasper.

  Good Lord.

  Bizzy! Lottie snatches up my fingers from behind. Delora and Stella are here! They think we’re in real trouble!

  Why do I get the feeling this doesn’t end well?

  Stella is coming for us! Lottie panics. And Delora is determined to stop the pirates.

  What could Stella possibly do?

  I glance to Jasper and catch his eye just as something knocks me off my feet. Lottie and I bounce hard over what feels like the back of a four hundred pound show hog, and soon we’re airborne, at least six feet off the ground as the crowd lets out a collective gasp. And on the way down, I spot Jasper, Everett, and Noah abandoning their weaponry as they dive our way with their arms open wide.

  I land in a tangle of Noah’s and Everett’s arms and Lottie makes a safe landing in Jasper’s. And as if it were a well-orchestrated move, the men toss us past one another as we land in our rightful places. The audience gives a riotous applause and we turn to find the pirates all herded into one big ball of beards and torn clothing with their hands tied to one another, forming a large circle of confusion.

  It looks as if Delora didn’t waste any time.

  A couple of extra pirates enter the scene and Carlotta and Georgie rush the stage latching onto the rogue men. Not to be outdone, Macy and Evie race on over and grab a pirate to call their own. Macy quickly lands a kiss over a brawny looking seafaring scoundrel, and just as Evie is about to do the same, both Everett and Lottie do their best to pull her away.

  A riot of laughter ensues. The lights flicker on and off again and the entire lot of us is asked to take our seats and remain seated until the end of the show—or face expulsion.

  Great.

  Soon the entire show is over and the room begins to drain.

  Hailey walks in with an entire crew of waitresses and waiters as they work to clear the tables.

  I nudge Lottie in the ribs and we quickly break away from our crew.

  “Goodnight,” I call out casually and Hailey looks this way before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

  “That was some show you put on. I’ve seen it get pretty wild up there, but that one took the cake. Good job, girls.”

  Lottie shudders. “Thank you… I think.”

  I snap my fingers. “I just remembered something. I saw you the night of the Lobster Festival.”

  She nods. “That’s what I was doing in Cider Cove to begin with. I was scouting parking for the big event the day that Trevor died.”

  “You knew him?” I lift a brow.

  Lottie shifts. It sure sounds as if she did.

  Her lips twitch. “Not well, only what I heard from Anna.” She gives a few quick blinks. “Between you and me, Anna hated him.” Nothing truer than that. What I don’t need to volunteer is the fact I hated him, too.

  “Anna hated him,” Lottie repeats. “
Did she mention anyone else who might have been angry with him?”

  She tips her head back. “There was that Melina woman. A friend of the other wife’s. Anna mentioned something once about how upset she was over something Trevor did to her.” She waves it off. “A shady business move, I think. Come to think of it, there was mention of a restraining order.”

  “A restraining order?” This new revelation stumps me.

  She ticks her head. “That’s what she said. I don’t know the details. I suppose you could ask Melina. She’s got some bakery around here somewhere.”

  Lottie gives me the side-eye. Hot Cross Buns in Rose Glen. I remember that from the day of the bake-off.

  “Thank you, Hailey. I hope you still managed to have a good time at the Lobster Festival.”

  “Oh, I did. In fact, I ran into Anna there, too. I told her not to think about that horrible thing that happened to her ex. Well, I guess he wasn’t her ex, now was he? Anyway, she was still stewing with anger. I told her it wasn’t healthy. She had to let it go. She was fuming over the fact Celine stole her man. I guess that old adage is true. You lose him how you got him.”

  Jasper stumbles into the room, looking around wild-eyed and doesn’t relax until he spots me.

  “Nice seeing you, ladies.” Hailey ducks into the back as Lottie and I make our way to the exit.

  “Bizzy Baker”—Jasper pulls me into his arms—“you’re really good at keeping me on my toes.”

  A small laugh trembles from me. “How about you come over to my cottage and I’ll try to find another way to keep you on your toes?”

  “Does it involve a sword fight and bandana gag?”

  “It can.”

  “I think I know a shortcut home.”

  Jasper drives like a man on a mission all the way to Cider Cove, and as much as I’d like to think about Melina and that restraining order, thoughts of the duel that’s about to ensue between Jasper and me wins out.

  How can it not? That man is about to shiver my timbers.

  Chapter 10

  The Hot Cross Buns Bakery out in Rose Glen is located on a maple-lined street, thick with tourists drinking down the fresh spring sunshine.

  Lottie and I discussed those eerie riddles all the way over. The men are off golfing today and Lottie and I have decided to zero in on yet another suspect.

  “I sent Georgie and Carlotta to the library to check out those books mentioned in the last note.”

  “Good thinking,” she says. “The Maltese Falcon, The Orient Express—and what was the short story?”

  “‘Silver Blaze.’”

  “That’s the one.” She snaps her fingers. “Evie said she’d check them out herself and dive deep into the plot lines. She can’t help but get involved somehow. Her thirst for justice rivals my own.”

  “Her father is a prominent judge,” I point out.

  “That’s true.” Lottie sighs. “And his prominent libido seems to have been passed down to her as well. She’s a bit boy crazy.”

  I bite down on my lip because I’ve noticed myself, but don’t dare say that out loud.

  “It’s okay,” she says. “I know you’re thinking it. Besides, I was sort of boy crazy myself at that age. And was I ever a lousy boyfriend picker back in the day. That’s probably why I’m so slow to narrow my suitors down to one.”

  “Well, you have two great choices. Lucky for you, there is no wrong answer to this question.” I pull up to the store. “And we’re officially here.”

  “Good,” Lottie says. “I can’t wait to find out why she had a restraining order out against Trevor. It was probably an old one, considering they were in the same room at the bake-off.”

  “You’re right. This is an old grievance we’re dealing with. I wonder what he did to her?”

  We score a spot right in front of the bakery, and Lottie sucks in a quick breath.

  “Would you look at that,” she muses. “Delora and Stella just walked right through the window.”

  “Ooh,” I say. “That’s a good sign, right?”

  “It’s a sign of a suspect.” She shrugs. “Let’s follow them in.”

  “Sounds like a plan. But I suggest we use the door.”

  Inside, Hot Cross Buns holds the scents of vanilla and warm sugar. The walls are painted a blush shade of pink and there are a handful of customers all waiting to be served. We take a number and mill around the bakery shelves as Lottie inspects them all with the scrutiny only another baker can bring. There are rows and rows of sugar cookies, cupcakes, napoleons, cream puffs, Danishes, fresh donuts, round cakes in every flavor, fruit pies, chocolate pies, and enough chocolate fudge brownies to make all of my chocolate wishes come true.

  Lottie spikes upright after nearly pressing her nose to the glass.

  “We’ll have to buy something,” she whispers.

  I nod. “It would be rude not to. What are you thinking?”

  “How about we pick up a couple of blueberry pies to take back for the crew?”

  “That sounds perfect. And how about we throw in a couple of slices of blueberry cheesecake to nosh on while we’re here?”

  “Sounds like a solid plan to me.” She jolts at the sight of something in the direction of the kitchen. “Delora and Stella are here.” She takes up my hand. “Did you find anything out?” she says to seemingly thin air. That quasi-psychotic act alone makes me thrilled that I ended up with something akin to a mental disorder than a full-blown schizophrenic superpower.

  “I did.” The older woman sounds as if she’s hushing her voice. “Melina here isn’t just a baker. She has awards lining her wall that indicate she was the top culinary inventor, three different years in a row.”

  Lottie’s eyes widen with surprise. “That’s a very huge deal.”

  Stella snorts. “Her cupcakes are so very delicious. She had at least a dozen decorated to look like the cutest little piglets, and I just gobbled them right up. Reminded me of my own little piglets. I’ve always said they were so adorable I could have eaten them right up, and today I did just that.”

  Bizzy and I share a laugh.

  “I’m glad they were delicious,” I say. “I have a plan. Lottie and I will ask all the tough questions, and once we’re through, the two of you can follow her back and see how she reacts.”

  “Good idea.” Stella lets out an entire series of snorts. “I best case those bakery shelves—just to make sure the goods are nice and fresh.”

  Lottie shakes her head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” She sighs. “But it’s too late.” She looks to my right, where I assume Delora is standing. “Maybe you should keep an eye on her, lest the donuts go flying.”

  “Pigs,” Delora grunts. “Can’t live with them—but then, I’m not alive, am I?” She laughs. “A little disembodied humor.”

  Our number is called and we order the blueberry pies to go and the blueberry cheesecake and coffee for here, but it’s not Melina who’s helping us. In fact, I don’t see her at all.

  Lottie goes to pay the woman, and I hand her a bill to even things out.

  She smiles at the girl handing us our treats. “I’m a baker myself. I’d love to meet the owner.”

  “Oh”—the girl glances back—“go ahead and take a seat. As soon as she’s available, she’ll come right out. She loves to chat with customers.”

  Bizzy and I find a table near the window and don’t waste any time in digging right in to those cheesecakes.

  A hard moan comes from me. “So creamy.”

  “So lush,” Lottie counters. “And the blueberries are fresh.”

  A light laugh comes from above and we find Melina wearing a warm smile. Her large, dark eyes are bright and her dark curls are pulled back into a tight bun.

  “I’m Melina Cabot, the owner.” She winces my way. “Bizzy?”

  “That’s me,” I say brightly. “You remember Lottie Lemon. She was a fellow judge right along with you. She’s leaving at the end of the week, and while I was giving her a tour
of the town, we stumbled across your bakery.”

  Lottie nods. “And we bought it out.” She points to the pies. “But my God, this cheesecake is amazing. I don’t know what you’re doing, but please keep doing it. You wouldn’t happen to deliver to Vermont, would you?”

  Melina belts out a laugh.

  I point to the chair. “If you have a minute, please join us.”

  “You bet.” She falls into the seat across from me. “It feels like heaven to get off my feet.”

  Lottie leans in. “Don’t I know it. We’ll have to exchange notes of shoes. I’ve tried every shoe under the sun and still haven’t found a pair that I’d swear by.”

  “You and me both,” Melina grunts. “But if you do, drop me a line.” She looks my way. “Any news on what happened to Trevor?” The hint of a smile glints on her lips. Now that the old bastard is dead, I get to sit back and watch the show.

  My mouth contorts as I try to process it.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I mean, yes,” I wince. “I heard he was poisoned.”

  “What?” There’s a mix of genuine surprise and a touch of glee in her voice. “With what? Do you know?” She leans in as if I’m about to dispense the best bit of gossip.

  I shrug. “Something to do with bees.”

  She gasps. “He must have been allergic.” Her brows dart together. “I guess the killer knew that. That’s not exactly common knowledge about someone. I bet it was someone close who did it to him.” She averts her eyes. “Anna?” She shakes her head. “She’s too easy. Why go all the way to Cider Cove to have that confrontation? She could have done him in anywhere at any time.”

  Lottie lifts her fork. “The inn afforded a lot of people to witness the event. Maybe she wanted to humiliate him? Plus, there were a lot of potential suspects. It does take the spotlight off the killer.”

  “I guess Anna could have done it.” But that’s not who I’d like to shine the so-called spotlight on.

  Geez. Melina Cabot looks guiltier by the second.