Just Buried

by Addison Moore

  I blink back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you reading me my rights?” I smack Leo on his chest. “I told you the guy was nuts.”

  Leo holds out a hand his way. “Deputy McSweeney. This is Bizzy Baker—Detective Wilder’s fiancée. I hardly think she was trying to score a date with you for the evening.” His brows bounce my way. “Or were you?”

  My silence says it all and Leo closes his eyes in response.

  Jasper is going to love this one.

  “Oh no,” I moan. “Please don’t tell me this was some sort of a sting.”

  Deputy Dan McSweeney nods my way.

  “It sure is.” He gives the back of his neck a scratch as he looks to Leo. “I’m sorry. But I can’t just let her go. I need to follow protocol.”

  “No!” I howl. “Why in the world would you want to arrest me? I don’t know anything about the Collective. And Lord knows you didn’t offer up any information.” I let out a roar of frustration before turning to Emmie’s plus one. “Leo, you have some explaining to do.”

  He sheds a cagey grin as he holds up his phone. “I think it’s safe to say the same for you.” He hands the phone over. “Jasper’s on the line. Start talking.”

  Chapter 11

  Jasper just so happens to pull into his driveway as soon as I pull into mine. Georgie and I dropped Juni off at her place, but Georgie usually walks to her cottage from mine since it’s just a stone’s throw away. And right about now I feel as if I should go with her.

  We get out of our respective cars and Jasper’s eyes glow like white flames against the deep navy night.

  Our phone conversation back in Edison consisted mostly of me talking a mile a minute and him reciting the word what over and over again—and each time with a little more shocked enthusiasm.

  Georgie shakes her head my way. “I can’t believe you were kicking off your bachelorette party at the bar without me. I’m getting on the horn tomorrow and nailing down a solid plan of debauchery with Macy.”

  “You do that,” I say. “And you should both have fun. In fact, take Juni.” I lean her way before Jasper can make his way over. “I’m having a bonfire at the cove, remember?”

  “Bonfire by the cove, my shiny hiney. You buckle up. By the time we’re through, they’ll be calling you Boozy Baker.” She gives a hard wink to Jasper. “See you kids later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do—which isn’t a lot.”

  She struts off into the night and Jasper steps up with a crooked grin blooming on his face.

  His facial scruff is a little darker than usual, his hair looks freshly slicked back, and his suit jacket is off and slung over his shoulder, giving him that sexy deconstructed look I happen to have a weakness for.

  “Hey, Boozy.”

  “Not funny.” I invert my lips because it’s a little funny.

  Jasper closes the distance between us. His chin is dipped a notch and the whites of his eyes light up the night.

  “Bizzy, what were you thinking? You could be behind bars right now. Soliciting for prostitution puts both parties in peril. It’s a Class E offense in the state of Maine.”

  “I had no idea I was paying for sex. I had no idea what the Collective was.”

  Jasper closes his eyes a moment too long.

  “And you did?” It comes out a bit accusatory.

  He nods. “I knew. But I didn’t think it was important that you knew. Bizzy, this was a classified investigation. An ongoing investigation with another department. It was hush-hush, and I respected that. I had no idea that you would dive in with both feet.”

  “Don’t forget my credit card.”

  “Don’t worry. In that respect you were lucky. Detective McSweeney isn’t a part of the Collective. He was doing a routine bust. The department can’t seem to penetrate their infrastructure, so we were hoping if we took down a few Janes it would rattle the cage.”

  “I’m a Jane? The female equivalent of a John?” I make a face. “Lovely. Is Jane Wilder anyone you’re interested in spending the rest of your life with?”

  “Jane Boozy”—his chest thumps as he wraps his arm around me—“I’m up for anything you want to call yourself.”

  “That’s awfully benevolent of you.” I give his tie a tug. “Did you happen to pick up dinner?”

  “Nope.” His lips twist. “I thought I’d better hurry and get home before you insert yourself in a jewelry heist.”

  I give him a long look. “Is this the jewel in question?” I hold up the sparkler on my ring finger and he draws my hand forward to kiss it.

  “That’s the only jewel I hope you’re interested in right now.” He pulls me in tight and I can feel his stomach rumbling against me.

  “Can I make you dinner?”

  His brows furrow. “It’s ten o’clock at night. Aren’t you exhausted?”

  “Sleep is overrated. Making my future husband something somewhat palatable is a high priority. Especially since I’m the reason his stomach is growling like a lion on the prowl.”

  We head into my place, where Sherlock and Fish bark and meow like mad while trying to attack us from every angle with glee. I feed them first before emptying out the fridge while Jasper leans against the counter, observing me.

  “You’re not going to handcuff me, are you?” I smart.

  “Only if you try to solicit carnal activity.”

  “Sounds like things are about to get freaky. Grilled cheese okay?”

  “It’s perfect. And if freaky is where you want to take dessert, I’m okay with that.”

  I bite down on my lower lip. “Guess what? Dessert is officially on the menu for you around the clock starting in three weeks.”

  A devilish smile flirts on his lips. “I’m counting down the days. Where are we living?”

  “You can move here. I’ve got a bigger place, and I’ll even give you the guest closet.”

  He chuckles. “It’s nice to know you’re willing to make concessions for me.”

  Sherlock and Fish wander in, full-bellied and content from their meals, and curl up in the corner while I whip up a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches.

  Jasper takes a bite and moans as the cheese pulls away from the sandwich in smooth, silky strings.

  “This is amazing.” He pecks a kiss to my cheek as I snuggle up against him with my own sandwich in hand. “I’m beginning to think that whole I-burn-everything-in-the-kitchen thing is a ruse.”

  “There’s a reason you’re the lead detective down at the Seaview Sheriff’s Department.”

  “Just the homicide division,” he says, taking another bite, and I lift a brow his way.

  “If the homicide detective bites the big one, who gets to investigate it?”

  He frowns a moment. “Why do I get the feeling you’re gunning for my job, and you’re willing to take me out of the way in order to do it?”

  “Because you know how driven I am?”

  Sherlock lets out a sharp bark. Tell him you’re kidding, Bizzy. You are kidding, right?

  Fish lets out an equally sharp meow as she swipes in Sherlock’s direction. Bizzy would never try to kill Jasper. That is, unless he was sniffing around at other innkeepers. In that case, I might help her do the deadly deed.

  I give a nervous laugh as I translate it quickly to Jasper.

  He leans in and lands a kiss right over my lips. “Don’t worry, Fish. I won’t give either of you a reason to bump me off.” He pulls back to get a better look at me. “So did you glean anything from the buzzing minds at the Magic Castle?”

  “Nothing. And McSweeney didn’t help.”

  “Did McSweeney make a move on you?” He glowers as if that alone were worthy of a homicide.

  “He thought I was too nice to be trolling for barflies. He said I was too pretty to be that desperate.”

  I’ve already told Jasper over the phone that I heard Bernie mention the Collective last night, and I also told him about what I read on Embry Knight’s social media page, where she told a friend she was headed to the Collective.


  “Although I did glean something from Zeke this afternoon,” I say. “When we were talking about Minty’s, he wondered if Michaela was recruiting for the Collective now. He said that was Julian’s game.”

  “Why would he wonder that?” His forehead wrinkles a moment. “And where did you find Zeke?”

  “When I took some of Emmie’s blondie bars down to the construction site where he was working.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” he says, taking another bite out of his sandwich. “Go on.”

  “And that’s it. Sounds to me that Zeke knows about the Collective. Julian had something to do with it, according to Zeke, and I could have scored a decent date with McSweeney if he wasn’t looking to trap me for a Class E offense.”

  Jasper swallows down the rest of his sandwich as he wraps his arms around me.

  “Remind me to have McSweeney demoted first thing in the morning.”

  “Hey, I kind of liked him. He reminds me a lot of you,” I tease. “Tall, strong, handsome, and he had the incessant urge to cuff me.”

  “Are you hinting that you’re ready for dessert?”

  “You’re the one that brought it up.” A thought comes to me. “Before I hand-feed you my kisses—do you think Julian’s death is somehow related to the Collective? I mean, Zeke all but implicated him as a ringleader.”

  “Maybe. I guess we can’t rule it out.”

  “We? Boy, you really know how to make a girl swoon. Tell me I’m your favorite homicide-solving sidekick and you’ve got me for life.”

  “You’re my favorite sidekick in every single capacity. Are you still in for life?”

  “I’m not only in for life, I’m in for the afterlife, too.”

  “I always knew you were an overachiever.” He gives my ribs a quick squeeze, and I jump with a laugh. “I like that.”

  “The overachiever part or the jumping and laughing part?”

  “Both.” He dots a kiss to my forehead. “The jumping and laughing is a good look on you, by the way. But then, what isn’t?”

  “An unsolved homicide that just so happened to take place at my inn—right before my wedding.”

  He sighs a moment. “You’re not going to let this one go, are you?”

  I shake my head.

  His lips purse. “There are better ways to spend your time before the wedding.”

  “Name one.”

  “I’ll do better than that.” He takes a gentle bite out of my neck. “I’ll show you.”

  Sherlock gives a half-hearted bark. I think he’s sniffing her again.

  Fish bleats out a soft meow. Can’t say I blame him. Bizzy is the sweetest girl I know. She smells like sugar.

  Sherlock grunts. She must taste sweet, too. Look at the way he’s nibbling on her neck.

  Fish mewls. He did say he was hungry.

  Jasper and I feast off our kisses until all thoughts of killers and sting operations are chased right out of our minds.

  Jasper is right. I’ve got a wedding to focus on. I should let him tackle this killer and the monster responsible for those missing girls alone.

  Surely I have a million better things to do, like finding something to wear to my wedding.

  A vision of Julian Fletcher’s body lying in the ballroom blinks through my mind.

  Let’s hope Jasper catches the killer before our big day. I don’t want this lingering over either of our heads.

  Maybe I should help facilitate things along—you know, for the sake of the wedding.

  Just this once and no more.

  Julian Fletcher’s killer needs to be apprehended, and I have less than a few weeks to do it.

  Chapter 12

  “Maybe I should head back to Minty’s and confront Michaela about her connection to the Collective?”

  Emmie shakes her head my way. “Eat another blondie bar.” She slides the platter my way. “You’re not thinking clearly. You just told Jasper you’d focus on your wedding, remember?”

  Emmie and I stand in the lobby of the Country Cottage Inn as the brisk autumn breeze fills the entry. It’s the very next day after my debacle at the Magic Castle, and I just filled Emmie in on just about everything I know regarding the case.

  She narrows her eyes over mine. Emmie looks adorable today with her hair in a messy bun, a black and white checkered flannel, and jeans. She and Leo are taking the day off to go apple picking, and I couldn’t be more envious.

  “Bizzy?” She eyes me with an air of suspicion. “What makes you think Michaela has any connection to some prostitution ring? I mean, that’s a pretty big accusation Zeke made.”

  All right. I may have stretched the truth and made her believe that Zeke actually offered up that info verbally. But I wasn’t about to tell her that I pried into the depths of his mind to get it. One of my biggest fears is that one day Emmie is going to find out I can read minds and that she’ll hate me forever because of it. Let’s face it, I’ve tapped into her private thoughts more than a time or two—even if I didn’t mean to do it.

  “I guess you’re right. He could have made it up or mistaken her for someone else. I should probably explore it a little more.”

  “Bizzy.” She groans as she picks up another blondie. “It doesn’t sound like you’re leaving this case alone.”

  I open my mouth in an effort to reassure her, but not a single sound emits from my vocal cords. Lucky for me, Leo Granger enters the inn carrying Fish in his arms while Sherlock wags dutifully by his side.

  “Hello, girls.” He gives a flirtatious wink to Emmie. Mmm, don’t you look ripe for the picking. He lands a kiss over her lips and I avert my eyes.

  I heard that, I say as I pretend to straighten the paperwork in front of me.

  Nessa stepped away from the desk to check on her sweet dog, Peanut, who is hanging out in the back at Critter Corner today, but as soon as Leo and Emmie take off for their apple picking rendezvous, and Nessa comes back, I plan on heading over to Minty’s and getting to the bottom of this Collective mystery surrounding Michaela.

  Leo leans in. “A little birdie just told me you’re heading to Minty’s this afternoon.” He lifts a brow as if this amused him.

  This does amuse me, he says. Especially after the fact I just spoke to Jasper and he briefed me on the fact you were stepping away from the investigation. And by the way, the little birdie’s name is Bizzy. He gives a sly wink my way.

  Emmie gasps. “No, Bizzy. I’m putting my bestie foot down. Don’t make me cancel my apple picking date to stay here and babysit you.”

  Fish lets out a sharp meow. Don’t ruin her apple picking date, Bizzy. I’ll babysit you. It’s what I was born to do.

  I nod over to the feisty little feline because she’s not wrong.

  “Fine, Emmie. I won’t go to Minty’s and try on my dream dress one more time. It’s probably for the best anyway. I’d have to mortgage the inn, and I don’t even own the inn. The earl who does own this place would get word and I’d lose my job and my housing, and my entire life would unravel.” Mostly true. The man who owns this place is a wealthy earl from England. I take care of the inn for him and he makes sure the bills are paid. We never speak. There’s an odd email or two about twice a year—and personally, I like the relationship we have.

  Emmie closes her eyes. “Fine. You can go to Minty’s, but only if I go with you. I have to see this dress for myself. But not today, though,” she says. “How about first thing in the morning?”

  “That’s fine.” I flash a quick smile at Leo. “Who knows? I might even come away with a wedding dress.” And a killer. I wink his way and he rolls his eyes. “I’ll walk you out.”

  We head out just as the leaves float down from the maple out front, and there’s a splash of fall color everywhere you look.

  No sooner do I say goodbye to the two of them than Sherlock runs up ahead and barks at someone coming down the walk. It’s a tall, strapping man with dark hair and a tight smile.

  “Archie,” I say as I wave his way. “What brings y
ou here today?”

  “Hey, Bizzy. I’ve got those pots I’m donating to the inn. I’ve got my crew here, too, ready to take them over to the bluff.”

  “Perfect,” I trill just as Nessa heads this way with her tiny black and white pup.

  Bizzy! Sherlock Bones and Fish! Peanut spins in a circle before trying his best to chase after Sherlock. Peanut is about half of Sherlock’s size, has a tiny ringlet of a tail, and a face of a pug more or less even though he’s a mixed breed.

  Nessa laughs. “Go on, Bizzy. I’ll man the fort.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take Peanut with me to the bluff,” I call out.

  Archie and his crew drive out toward the gazebo, and I cut through the back walkway that faces the ocean with Sherlock, Peanut, and Fish bobbing alongside me.

  Peanut lets out a cute little yip. So who are we investigating today? Nessa told me there was another death at the inn. She says this entire town is cursed. And she’s got her eye on you, Bizzy.

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Peanut.” I shake my head at the thought while Fish and Sherlock fill Peanut in on all I’ve told them about the case so far.

  The ocean is dark, a perfect reflection of the heavy clouds hanging over the Atlantic. The sun is still shining brightly, but by the looks of those clouds, it won’t be for long. I suppose it’s time to start thinking about renting a tent for McKenna’s wedding and mine. Rain isn’t something I planned for or hoped for.

  By the time I get to the bluff, Archie already has two enormous, and, might I add, gorgeous, creamy cast stone pots set out. They’re at least four feet tall with a relief of seashells and starfish enwreathing them just like he mentioned.

  Brimming from the pots themselves are blooming mums in crimson and gold. And in the center of each pot sits a large bright orange pumpkin adding to the brilliant fall display. In the background, the evergreens are lined up like verdant soldiers letting off their fresh pine scent, and the gazebo looks like a glossy white wrought iron wonder with its metallic roses woven throughout.

  “Oh, Archie.” I press my hand to my chest as I inspect the massive pots set out before me. “These are absolutely gorgeous.”