Felines and Fatalities (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 6)

by Addison Moore

  “That would be great,” I say. “I’m still learning all about this transmundane thing. It’s still a bit much to wrap my head around.”

  “Ooh!” Lottie squeals. “Speaking of which, two rather friendly ghosts just popped into the room.” She squints past me. “And they’re headed straight for the delicious treats.”

  Leo gives a slight bow. “And I’m headed straight for a delicious treat named Emmie Crosby.”

  I scowl over at him. “Call my bestie a delicious treat one more time and I’ll deliver a delicious treat to your eye by way of my fist.”

  “Don’t make me arrest you, Bizzy.” Leo holds up his hands as he steps away. “Stay safe, girls.” He takes off just as Everett and Evie make their way over.

  “Mom!” Evie looks shocked as she latches onto Lottie. “Carlotta says the odds of you finding another body today have tripled. Is that true?”

  Everett lets out a breath. “She might have mentioned the senior center was located next door to heaven. And they’ve already loaded one of the residents onto a gurney out front.”

  Evie shakes her head. “That doesn’t count. The guy was sitting up and breathing into an oxygen mask. I want to see a full-blown corpse. I missed the last two because I was on the beach having fun with boys.” She says boys like the four-letter word it can sometimes be.

  Carlotta pops up. “Stick around, kid. It won’t be long now. Hop onto the Mama Drama Express and you’ll have a whole trail of bodies leading back to haunted Honey Hollow in no time.” She pats Lottie on the back. “We need your expertise at the table.”

  “No can do.” Lottie holds up her hands. “I’m a judge. It’s against the rules for me to aid a contestant, especially when that contestant abandoned me at a firehouse nearly twenty some odd years ago. Kidding.” She bumps her hip to Carlotta’s. “That firehouse side trip worked out in spades for the both of us.”

  “Amen to that, Lottie Dottie.” Carlotta gives one of Lottie’s curls a tug. “Anyway, we don’t need your expertise on the dish we’re baking. Georgie and I can’t decide between red wine or white.”

  Lottie cocks her head to the side. “Is that in the recipe?”

  “Nope. But it’s in the footnotes of Georgie’s great-grandma’s recipe for maple monkey bread under holiday survival guide. It says pair baking with red or white wine.”

  Everett gives a slight nod her way. “Sounds like a winning recipe. Can’t wait to sample it.”

  Evie links arms with Carlotta. “I’ll sample the wine and let you know what I think.”

  They speed off and Everett speeds off in their wake.

  I hike up on my tiptoes and spot Georgie knocking back wine straight from the bottle, and next to her my mother is doing the very same thing.

  “Something tells me it’s going to be a very long day, Lottie.”

  We head for the exit and bump into a man with his arms filled to the brim with boxes of Harrison baking molds.

  “Julian,” Lottie says as she peers over at one of the boxes. “Oh, the spring floral wreath is my favorite!” She bounces on her feet. “What are you doing with all these molds?”

  “I thought since the last bake-off went off the rails, and each of the seniors seemed so determined to win, I’d off-load a little extra inventory and give each contestant a mold as a prize.”

  “What a great idea.” His generosity shocks me. And then it hits me. “Was this a surplus from the factory?”

  He narrows his eyes to the ceiling. “You could say that.” Nobody needs to know it came from my garage. Now that it doesn’t make sense to steal from myself, I might as well look like a hero for giving away the inventory. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies.” He takes off.

  Lottie glances my way. “Those were from his private reserve, weren’t they?”

  “You guessed it.”

  Before we hit the door, we come upon a familiar friendly face, Hailey Ross, with her hair neatly curled, her lips a glossy shade of tangerine.

  “Hello, girls!” she calls out, hugging a pink box from a bakery with a Hot Cross Buns sticker across the front. “I just ran into one of the judges out front and she asked me to bring these in. “She opens the lid, revealing the most decadent miniature éclairs I ever did see. The thick chocolate coating has a satin finish, and I can see the vanilla cream filling bursting out the sides. “They’re bite-sized and meant to be devoured. Go ahead. I won’t say a word.”

  Lottie and I don’t need to be told twice. We dive straight in and each devours one just as she suggested.

  Lottie moans while closing her eyes. “So very good! I’ll have to compliment the baker.”

  Hailey shrugs. “She was right behind me. I think she spotted Anna and they’re having a chat.” She gives a little wink as she takes off.

  Lottie dips her elbow into my ribs. “You hear that? I bet that’s the culprit who’s been playing telephone. Let’s get out there and bust ’em.”

  We make our way out the side door and into the parking lot, but all we see is Melina struggling with a few pink boxes.

  “Hey there!” she chirps. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw you brought cookies to the last bake-off, Lottie, and I thought it would be a great way to advertise my bakery.”

  “Not at all.” Lottie straightens her boxes for her before they topple to the ground. “Want me to help you carry these in?”

  “Oh no, I’ve got them. I think they should see me carrying them. At least that way they might attribute them to me. It’s a shot in the dark, but I’d love to see a spike in sales. Especially after I had that misfortune of losing one of my bakery shelves. Can you believe it?” She turns to Lottie. “It just up and exploded all on its own. Luckily, insurance is covering it.”

  She starts to take off, and I step in front of her.

  “Did you hear?” I force a smile. “They’re ready to make an arrest in Trevor’s and Celine’s murder.”

  “What?” She stumbles backward, nearly toppling the boxes once again. “Well, who did it?” This is unexpected. She shoots a quick glance back to the parking lot.

  “We don’t know,” Lottie offers. “But it seems an arrest is imminent.”

  “Wow.” She gives a little laugh. “I’m floored they were able to figure it out so quickly. I’d better set these boxes down and tell Anna.” She says that last part mostly to herself as she speeds past us.

  Lottie practically jumps in my face. “Well? What was she thinking? Did she confess?”

  “No, actually, the only thing she said was that this was unexpected.”

  “It is, considering it isn’t true.” She gives a cheeky wink. “Nice work, sister.” The smile melts right off her face. “Ooh, here comes Anna. Let’s see if it works on her.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the wrestling world’s rising stars.” She belts out a laugh. She’s got on a pair of oversized sunglasses and a white pantsuit that gives her a youthful appeal. And if I’m not mistaken, she looks carefree and ready to have a good time.

  “You look amazing, Anna,” I tell her and I mean it, too.

  Yeah. Lottie manufactures a smile her way. The death of her husband really puts a spring in her step.

  I nod. “We just got word they’re about to make an arrest in the deaths of Trevor and Celine.”

  Anna’s pink lips contort. “You don’t say! Poor killer won’t get away with murder after all.” She belts out a laugh. “Speaking of crimes, I think I forgot to lock my car. It gives me the willies to think someone was gunning for Trevor and his wife. Sometimes, in the night, I’ll think what if they got the wrong wife and come after me?” She plucks out a set of keys from her purse and a dark gray Jeep sitting across from us chirps to life. “There,” she says, dropping the keys back into her bag just as her purse begins to tumble to the ground.

  “Oh, here.” Lottie catches the bag before it falls, and a pale blue notepad peers out of it.

  “What is this?” Lottie says, plucking it out and wagging it in the older woman’s face.

&nbs
p; Anna inches back and snatches it away from Lottie.

  “This?” She makes a face at the pale blue block. “It’s from the Whiskey Hop.”

  “The Whiskey Hop?” I flatline. “You mean the bar you work at?”

  “Yup.” She holds the notepad my way. “It even has the initials of the bar at the top.” She points to the W and the H stamped faintly on it. “Anyway, it’s from the office. If you girls want it, you can go ahead and have it.” She lands it in Lottie’s hand. “A little commemoration of your trip.”

  “Yes,” Lottie says it with ease. “That would be great.” Bizzy? Is she in the least admitting her guilt internally? She doesn’t look one bit nervous.

  I shake my head. “Anna, don’t you think it’s strange that you have this very notepad in your possession—and you’re good at writing riddles?”

  She inches back and takes off her sunglasses while squinting at the two of us.

  “I’m good at what?” I bet these girls had one too many of those champagne brunch drinks they try to pass off as nutritious because the booze is masked with orange juice.

  “Puzzles? Riddles?” I nod. “You know, the kind you used to write for the paper when you lived in Bangor?”

  She looks morbidly confused, and there’s nothing going on in her mind at the moment.

  Anna leans in a notch. “Where did you get that?”

  “Hailey told us.” I don’t mind at all sharing where we got it.

  She huffs as she cinches her purse over her shoulder.

  “Listen, girls. Hailey is starting to lose her mind if she told you that. I worked the recipe section at the Eastern Sun, but that was over thirty years ago. I was the resident baker. I’m the reason Trevor got into the baking business to begin with.” She glowers over at the senior center. “This was my world, not his. In fact, I’d better get in there before I miss the show. Excuse me.” She strides past us like a woman on a mission.

  “Lottie, that was strange.”

  “I agree. And look at her car. Didn’t you say there was a green triangular sticker on the back? I don’t see one.”

  We take a few steps deeper into the lot, and sure enough the bumper of the Jeep is pristine. I’m about to turn back to the senior center when another car with a green triangular sticker catches my eye.

  “Look at that,” I say as I speed on over. “Oh my God,” I say it under my breath. “Cars for You? That’s where I recognized the sticker from. It’s a rental company I refer people to on occasion.”

  “Bizzy, whoever left those notes rented a Jeep that looks just like Anna’s to do it.”

  “And they took the notepad from the bar to pin it on her. Anna is our Maltese Falcon. She’s the decoy.”

  Lottie nods. “I bet Anna gave the killer the notepad just as easily as she gave it to me just now.”

  “The dog in the night didn’t bark because she knew her.” I pull out my phone and my fingers fly across the screen.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, leaning in until her chin is on my shoulder.

  “I’m looking to see if there’s any record of who worked the quiz section at that paper thirty years ago.”

  And sure enough, a name we almost recognize pops up on the screen.

  I look to Lottie and nod.

  It looks as if we might just have our killer.

  Chapter 18

  Lottie and I head back into the senior center in a mild panic. The place is swarming with bodies, but there’s only one body in particular we’re interested in, and at the moment, we’re seeing everyone else in the room instead.

  “Bizzy Baker!” Georgie plucks me out of the crowd and lands me at the workstation where she, Carlotta, and my mother are dusting the surface with ingredients.

  “We’ve had an accident.” Mom coughs as she does her best to fan away the flour floating in the air. My mother looks sleek in a pink button-down blouse with the collar popped up around her ears. “I spilled an entire bag of flour. What do we do now?”

  Lottie steps in. “You can still use it. Don’t worry about cleanup until the event is over. And remember to have fun.”

  Mom gives a solid blink. “Have you met these two?” She hitches her thumb toward Georgie and Carlotta. “It’s like trying to have fun in an active minefield. This is a certified war zone.”

  Georgie snickers. “That’s right, Toots.” She slings an arm around my mother’s shoulders. “We’re here to keep you on your toes.”

  Carlotta chuckles at my mother. “Which war are we talking about, Toots?” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “They don’t make wars like they used to.”

  Georgie nods. “I remember when smoking two packs a day was good for you.”

  Carlotta slaps her hands together. “I remember when a nickel was made out of nickel.”

  Georgie shakes her head. “Remember when all we wanted to do was get older and grow up?”

  Carlotta scoffs. “What the hell were we thinking?”

  Lottie glances my way. I say we back away slowly.

  I nod, and soon Lottie and I are mixing with the crowd once again.

  Lottie pulls me in hard by the arm. “There she is.” She points over to the dessert table in the corner. “Let’s do this.”

  We stride on over, and I can’t help but hold my breath as I examine her.

  She does look vaguely like an older woman in that picture.

  “Hello, girls.” Hailey brandishes a knowing grin. Here we go again with Silly One and Silly Two. “These treats are just amazing.” She nods to Lottie. “I understand you’re the one who baked these cookies?”

  Lottie blows out a steady breath. “I did. And I understand the killer used one of my cookies to lace it with royal jelly.”

  Hailey’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? What a clever killer indeed.” She sheds another smile and her bottom lip veers to the left, just like in that picture sitting on Trevor’s desk.

  The dessert table behind her jumps as if it were possessed and Lottie takes up my hand, which assures me I’m not that far off the supernatural mark.

  “They’re here,” she whispers.

  A mild look of worry darts across Hailey’s face. “Who’s here?” My God, is she talking about the sheriff’s department?

  “Get on with it!” Delora’s voice comes in clear. “Wait a minute. If you catch the killer, Stella and I will be whisked off to paradise.”

  A wild snort erupts. “We need to get eating, sister. Lottie and Emmie don’t deliver to the other side.”

  Lottie’s mouth falls open as her eyes track to the table in front of us, and sure enough the cookies begin to disappear in a hurry.

  “I’ve got to go.” Hailey tries to step away, but Lottie and I block her path.

  “Where are you off to so quickly?” I ask.

  The older woman studies me with a look of disdain. “Melina needs my help getting more of those treats out of her car. Would you both like another?” She eyes something under the table, and I follow her gaze to see a pink box tucked to the side.

  “No,” Lottie says. “I want to know the real reason you came by the senior bake-off that day. You live nearby. The Lobster Festival wasn’t until that weekend.”

  Her mouth falls open. “I—was confused. It wasn’t far from my home, you’re right. And I didn’t want to miss the Lobster Festival.”

  “That’s not true, is it?” I shake my head at the older woman who has suddenly taken on a feeble quality. “You told Anna about the bake-off because you needed her there, didn’t you?”

  Hailey gags as she glances for the exit.

  I pull out my phone and show her that sepia picture from our break-in the other day.

  “This is you, isn’t it?”

  An audible gasp comes her. “Where did you find that?”

  “In your husband’s office,” I say. “It was on his desk, tucked behind a picture of his current wife. But then, I guess you were all his current wives. Isn’t that true?”

  A croaking sound comes from
her as she looks from Lottie to me.

  “So you’re not as bumbling as I thought you were.” She frowns at the thought. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

  Lottie shakes her head. “You knew Trevor was allergic to bees. I bet if we do a little digging, we’ll find some royal jelly in your purse, or your car, your home. Perhaps a receipt for some on one of your credit cards?”

  She gasps again, this time holding tight to her purse, proving Lottie’s theory more or less correct.

  I lean her way. “Hailey, your real name is Hailey Harrison. You didn’t meet Anna because you were neighbors in Bangor. You met her while you were both working for the Eastern Sun.”

  Lottie steps in. “Anna was the resident baker. You were in charge of the puzzles. And that’s why those riddles you left were so very well-crafted. You’ve had years of practice.”

  She gives a blink of a smile. “They were good. They were better than you both.”

  “No.” I shake my head as a laugh trembles in my throat. “We were able to untangle your web of deceit. The answer to the first riddle was ex-wives, but you were never really an ex, were you?”

  Lottie nods. “The answer to the second—the thing some people nurture? It’s a grudge. And that’s what you had against Trevor.”

  I hold up a finger. “The third riddle stumped us the longest.”

  Hailey averts her eyes. “A literary conundrum between the likes of you two, who would’ve thought?”

  Lottie huffs, “We figured it out. The Maltese Falcon was a decoy—much like Anna. The reference to ‘The Adventures of Silver Blaze’? Trevor knew who you were. I’m betting Anna did, too. Nothing to bark about. And that brings us to Murder on the Orient Express. You wanted us to believe there was more than one person involved. I don’t believe that’s true. You see, I think that was just another diversion. But I’ll let the sheriff’s department tease that one out. But it was you Melina called that afternoon we visited to confirm that Lottie and I visited—just the way you warned her we would. You were warning quite a few people, weren’t you?”

  An eerie grin stretches over her face. “Just the obvious suspects.”