Felines and Fatalities (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 6)

by Addison Moore

  I know, I know. Jasper wouldn’t be all that thrilled that we were here, but we needed someplace private and Carlotta is taking a nap in their room. Noah drove down to the Seaview Sheriff’s Department to see if there were any updates on the case. And Everett is out on the cove with Evie, and most likely Macy, too, by default. For now, it’s just Lottie and me—and Fish, Sherlock, Pancake, and Waffles.

  I pull out a blueberry pie and two forks before plunking them down at the small round table in my makeshift dining room.

  “Can you believe Carlotta and Georgie?” I laugh as I fall into my seat.

  “The naked nanas?” She shakes her head with a laugh of her own. “I’m glad they’re getting along, but together they might just be too strong of a force.”

  “Agree. It’s probably a blessing they’re separated by a whole state.”

  “But promise you’ll still come out and visit Honey Hollow. And bring Jasper, Georgie, Macy, and anyone else you want. We have more than enough room for you all.”

  “I can’t wait to stay at the haunted B&B.” My shoulders bob with excitement. “Honey Hollow sounds amazing.”

  “It is. But Cider Cove is pretty magical, too.”

  Fish meows as she hops onto the couch and nestles between Pancake and Waffles.

  I’ll be tagging along for sure. She begins to purr while whipping both Pancake and Waffles with her tail.

  “Fish says she’s coming, too,” I say.

  Pancake taps his paw over her and lets out a soft roar. I touched her. She’s mine.

  Waffles hisses. Hands off, brother. This pretty little thing is mine.

  A laugh jumps from my throat as I quickly relay it all to Lottie.

  “Oh, boys.” She shakes her head. “I guess they have a love triangle of their own to deal with.”

  Sherlock barks. Nobody takes my Fish anywhere without me.

  I let Lottie in on the fact, and she calls the pouting pooch over before offering him a pat on the head.

  “Noah has a dog named Toby, and I think the two of you will get along just great.”

  I indulge in another bite of Melina Cabot’s blueberry pie and moan.

  “Is it bad that I can wolf this whole thing down in ten minutes?”

  “Same.” Lottie nods. “But I think I know how we can pace ourselves. Let’s go over the suspects.”

  “Ooh! Good idea. Where to begin? How about with the victims? Trevor and Celine seemed nice enough. That is, until we unleashed a few dirty tidbits, mostly about Trevor.”

  “Which makes sense why he was killed first. But her?” Lottie shakes her head. “Maybe it was Julian? Now that Celine doesn’t stand in the way, it’s a much clearer path for him to strong arm his way to owning the company.”

  I nod. “And he was stealing. One of Trevor’s last thoughts was about confronting Julian. He sounded really angry, too. I bet he was going to throw the book at his old friend.”

  “And then there’s Melina.” Lottie wags a forkful of blueberry pie my way. “She was pretty steamed about the fact Trevor stole her idea. What a worm. I’d be fit to kill, too, if that were me.” She spikes her fork into the blueberry pie. “Of course, I wouldn’t actually do it. Everett would probably help me take the guy to the cleaners. Noah would have him arrested. Carlotta would utilize her mob ties to break the guy’s kneecaps. But he would ultimately survive.”

  “And live to fear you,” I say. “But Melina didn’t have those options. She might have known about his bee allergy. And she is a baker. She’s not afraid to mix ingredients. Jasper said they think it was royal jelly that was used. That’s essentially a cream that can be spread onto anything.”

  Lottie nods. “Even one of my maple white chocolate chunk cookies.”

  “Yesterday, while we were at Hot Cross Buns, Melina mentioned that maybe Anna could have killed Trevor. And her very next thought was—but that’s not who I’d like to shine the so-called spotlight on.”

  “Wow.” Lottie leans back in her seat, dazed. “It’s almost as if she’s trying to control the investigation. And remember what Delora said she heard after we left the bakery? She said Melina called someone and said, ‘You were right. They just stopped by my bakery. I’ll get the word out.’”

  I blow out a breath. “That means more than one person is onto us. And Julian must have got the same call while we were there.”

  “So strange.” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen a case like this.”

  “That leaves Anna next on the suspect list,” I say. “After Trevor died and we spoke with her at the Whiskey Hop, her thoughts were pretty telling. She said she was fit to kill, and that witnessing his death was the cherry on the cake. That it made her year, her life. And that she would be celebrating that day as a holiday from here on out—cake and ice cream, the whole nine yards.”

  Lottie moans through another bite. “She’s the easy suspect, isn’t she? I bet Jasper is almost ready to arrest her.”

  “If he had the evidence, I bet he would in a hot minute.”

  “I guess we’ve squeezed the suspects. Now let’s squeeze those riddles.” Lottie’s eyes grow large as she snatches up my hand and I can guess what that means.

  “Let’s!” a disembodied voice trills from my left and Lottie’s gaze rises in that direction.

  “Delora!” Lottie perks up before her attention drifts to the left. “Stella!”

  Fish growls as if her tail was on fire and the hair along her spine rises.

  Sherlock lets out a few wild barks, and Stella snorts right at him.

  Lottie leans in. “I wonder why Pancake and Waffles aren’t reacting?”

  Pancake lets out a tiny mewl. Because we’re used to it.

  “He says they’re used to it.” I quickly relay and Lottie’s mouth falls open.

  “Well I’m glad to hear it,” she says. “Especially since I can’t seem to stop the ghosts from coming.”

  Waffles stretches his front paws, alternately pushing them into the sofa as if he were giving the cushion a massage. We don’t mind. In fact, we can sense them. And when you’re holding us, we can hear them, too.

  I translate and Lottie leans their way.

  “And you really don’t mind?” she asks.

  Why would we mind? Pancake purrs the words out. They’re friendly for the most part. And not one of them has been interested in eating our food.

  Waffles nods and meows. They much prefer your cakes and cookies. I wouldn’t mind a bite myself once in a while.

  Ooh. Pancake gurgles. Make mine with tuna, please.

  I fill Lottie in on the tuna topic and Stella snorts.

  I’ll take a bite of that blueberry pie if you don’t mind. And soon enough, half the pie outright disappears.

  “And there’s that,” I say. “Let’s get to those riddles.” I pull out my phone. “First up. They have been known to fill up divorce courts. Men often say you can’t live with them. You can’t live without them. Any woman could become one. Any one of them could be a killer.”

  Lottie nods. “I think we were right on the meaning of this one. Definitely an ex-wife.”

  “But he didn’t have an ex-wife,” Delora points out.

  “True,” I say. “But it does say they have been known to fill up divorce courts. I think that’s where the caveat lies. The key is, I think this is referring to a scorned woman. And I think that’s who might be leaving these notes, too.”

  Lottie nods. “Or at least the person leaving these notes wants to point us to a woman. And they could be right. Or not.”

  “Next up, note number two. People hold it. Some people nurture it. Some people loathe it. Some people find the ability to let it go. No one ever really forgets.”

  Stella snorts. “Sounds like a miserable experience.”

  “Hmm”—Delora’s voice grows in my direction as if she were leaning in—“sounds confusing and angry.”

  Lottie and I look at one another.

  “A grudge!” we say at the very same time.

/>   I point her way with my fork. “I knew I liked you.” We each take another bite of pie as a reward. “Third up—”

  A knock erupts on the door, and I answer it to find both Everett and Evie. Everett has on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, the most relaxed I’ve seen him since he’s been here, and Evie has on a white mesh cover up over a hot pink string bikini. Poor Everett must have had a heart attack when she took it off at the beach. Evie really is a stunner. These next few years won’t be easy for him.

  “Come in!” I extend a hand as they step inside. “I’ll get some plates. Lottie and I were just digging into some pie.”

  They get settled at the table with us, and I dish them both a slice of the happy mess Stella’s made. Okay, fine, Lottie and I may have contributed.

  Everett glances at Lottie with a mischievous look in his eyes—one I’ve seen Jasper give me on many an occasion.

  He leans her way. “Why do I get the feeling the two of you were discussing the case?”

  Evie grunts, “That’s because they’re strong, independent women. They don’t need to wait for a man to solve the case for them.”

  Everett offers his daughter a wry look. “You do realize Noah’s partner down at the Ashford Sherriff’s Department is a woman.”

  “Yeah, so?” Evie looks mildly disgusted by the thought. “Mom’s the one that puts together all the pieces to the puzzle. She’s like a homicide solving savant or something.” She glances my way. “I hear you’re pretty good, too. I guess the killer’s days are numbered.”

  “That they are,” I say, pulling my phone forward once again. “In fact, we were just about to try to untangle the third note. Maybe the two of you can help? It says a Bizzy-body such as yourself shouldn’t stick your nose in other people’s lives. Perhaps you should read a book like The Maltese Falcon. Or perhaps “The Adventures of Silver Blaze”, the short story of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time? However, required reading for a snoop like you might just be Murder on the Orient Express.”

  Everett pulls out his phone. “I watched The Maltese Falcon on TV, and I read The Orient Express. No idea about the other one. I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Not to worry”—Evie covers his phone with her hand—“Carlotta and Georgie took me to the local library. I’ve been doing a little light reading. Silver Blaze was the name of some rich guy’s horse. He hired Sherlock Holmes to get him back. Spoiler alert: it turns out, the dog didn’t bark in the night because the thief wasn’t a stranger.”

  I look to Lottie. “Not a stranger?”

  She nods. “All of the suspects knew Trevor. I’m not sure about Celine.”

  “But it’s almost as if there’s a code, a message in there somewhere.”

  Everett tips his head to the side. “How about The Maltese Falcon?”

  Evie sniffs. “It was just a decoy. The guy who was looking for it was given a decoy.”

  “A decoy?” I shake my head, trying to put it together.

  Lottie takes a breath. “Not a stranger, and a decoy. What about The Orient Express?”

  “Easy.” Everett’s lips twitch. “Another spoiler alert: they all did it.”

  “They all did it?” I try to figure out how this might factor in.

  Evie slaps her hand over the table. “There’s more than one killer!”

  “Or”—Everett tips his head to the side—“it’s another diversion.”

  Lottie lifts a finger and fills them in on what Melina said after we left. She leaves Delora out of the equation because Evie doesn’t know about Lottie’s transmundane status yet. I can only imagine how that conversation will go.

  Everett’s eyes harden upon hearing about Melina’s game of telephone.

  “They’re talking,” he says. “And why are your suspects talking?”

  Evie sucks in a quick breath. “Oh my God, they all did it!”

  I bite down on my lip. “Maybe. Or maybe the killer is hoping to send us in the wrong direction entirely.”

  I make a face as I look at a picture of the next riddle. “What has four arms, four legs, four eyes, and two inquisitive brains? A Bizzy-body and a bumbling baker. One will bake you cookies. The other will check you in. Spoiler alert.” I pause and give a quick wink to Evie. “Both will meet a rather tragic end.”

  Evie glowers a moment. “I hate that the killer knows who you are. You’re both in danger.” She blinks back tears as she looks to Lottie. “Nothing can happen to you.” Her voice breaks.

  “And nothing will.” Lottie wraps her arms around her daughter.

  I flip to a picture of the next note on my phone, anxious to change the morbid subject of our impending doom. “What do Henry the VIII and Trevor Harrison have in common? They were both gluttons to the very end.”

  Everett shakes his head at that one. “He was notorious for feasting on women and food.”

  Lottie lifts a brow. “He died from an old leg wound, or was it diabetes? Or both?”

  Evie smirks. “I bet the killer was talking about Trevor’s many wives. He was a modern day Henry the Pig.”

  I nod in agreement. “I bet that’s it.”

  Once we finish up the pie, Lottie, Everett, and Evie take off just as Noah and Jasper pull in. Noah waves my way as he catches up to Lottie.

  “Detective Wilder,” I chirp as he heads in my direction. “How’s my handsome future husband?” I ask as I pull him close by the tie, a mischievous look brewing in my eyes. “Did you put away the bad guys?”

  “No,” he flatlines. “It turns out, not all people who break and enter into a crime scene are bad. They’re just badly misinformed that what they were doing was a good idea.”

  “Noah told you?” I gag at what might come next.

  “Noah didn’t have to tell me. I had the security camera running on my laptop in the event the killer felt the need to head to the estate. Imagine my surprise when I saw Judge Baxter with a pair of wire cutters about to ruin my viewing pleasure. I wasn’t too thrilled to see Noah stepping up next to him either. It took some loose threats, but I eventually got the story from the guy.”

  I bite down on my lower lip, a shameless smile curling on my lips.

  “Are you going to arrest me?”

  “I should arrest all of you.”

  “Orange isn’t a good look on me. Do you deal in bribes?” I ask, pulling him into my cottage.

  “It depends on what you’ve got to offer.”

  I shut the door behind us and lock it.

  It’s time to turn Jasper’s frown upside down and start working on my get out of jail free card.

  Chapter 17

  The Cider Cove Senior Center is located inland, about six miles from the Country Cottage Inn, but that didn’t stop either Emmie or Lottie from showing up with platters and platters of their delicious treats—maple pecan shortbread made by Emmie and maple white chocolate chunk cookies from Lottie.

  I watched them bake up a storm this morning in the kitchen of the Country Cottage Café and was warned by both of them to steer clear of the battlefield. Apparently, word of my penchant to burn things to cinder has gotten around.

  Emmie and Lottie set down their platters and give an approving nod to the venue.

  “It’s small.” Emmie shrugs. “But it’ll work.”

  Lottie nods. “And it looks like they fixed the banner. It no longer says may the best baker sin.”

  “Yeah.” I squint over at it. “Now it reads may the best baker swim.”

  Emmie wrinkles her nose. “It could have been worse. That’s better than bite the big one. You don’t think we’ll have any trouble today, do you?”

  “God, I hope not.” I lean in. “But I asked Jasper to swing by just in case.”

  Lottie gives a quick look around. “And I asked Everett to bring Evie by in a bit. Noah said he’s coming, too.”

  “Good.” Emmie shudders. “Because all of these killings have got me jumping out of my skin.” She stops short as she eyes someone near the door. “I can’t believ
e he’s talking to her again.” Emmie’s eyes narrow in on someone and I follow her gaze. It’s Leo talking to Mayor Woods. “I thought we were on-again.”

  “Mackenzie thinks you’re off-again,” I say. “And as evidenced by the fact she’s touching her hair and batting her lashes up at him, it’s clear she thinks she and Leo are on-again, too.”

  Emmie snaps up a handful of cookies from Lottie’s platter.

  “I’m headed to the game room to pout.” She takes off as Leo and Mackenzie stride this way.

  Mack sneers in the direction Emmie took off in. Run, Emmie, Run. Eat your cookies and heart out. This tall, dark, and handsome gun-wielding man is all mine.

  I lift a brow in Leo’s direction. I know darn well he heard the Mayor’s commentary, too.

  “Leo, Mayor Woods.” I can’t help but frown at the two of them.

  “Everything looks great.” Mackenzie takes a moment to glower at me. “Don’t ruin things by whipping up another dead body. You and your new friend here aren’t exactly a couple of horseshoes.” She gives a tug at the lapel of her powder pink blazer. “I’d better make the formal announcements and get this baking buffoonery underway.” She takes off, and I turn to Leo without bothering to hide my disdain.

  “What gives? A few months of toying with my best friend and you’re back with the beast? I guess the saying is true. A dog really does return to his vomit.”

  Leo closes his eyes a moment. “Not true. Mackenzie is making her intentions known. She’s angling. I’m not biting.” He cranes his neck past me. “I’ll find Emmie in a second and see if I can make things right.” He glances to Lottie. “So, how are you liking Cider Cove?”

  “I love it,” she says. “But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it. It’s rare to come across another of our kind.”

  I make a face. “Our kind? You make us sound like aliens.”

  His cheek flickers. “We’re probably as close as it gets.”

  Lottie laughs. “The two of you should come to the transmundane conventions. I’ve been and they’re great. Next time one comes up, I’ll let you know.”