A Winter Tail of Woe

by Addison Moore

  A tiny laugh brews in me. “Fish says you shouldn’t believe the rumors.”

  Jasper’s chest pumps with a dry laugh. “Don’t worry, Fish. I’m this close to having them put Bizzy on the payroll right before I hand over the keys to the kingdom.”

  Sherlock barks. How about me? I’ve got a good sniffer and I’m not afraid to use it.

  Acorn vocalizes something just this side of a moan. I’d love to help solve poor Mabel’s murder. It’s hard to believe anyone could hurt such a sweet girl, even though I understand they were looking to hurt my Morgan.

  I quickly translate to Jasper and he sighs over at the curly-haired pooch.

  “I’m sorry about your loss, Acorn,” he says. “I can only imagine everything that’s transpired must be a shock to you. Had you ever seen anyone have a problem with Morgan? Any sharp disagreements? Harsh verbal exchanges?”

  Acorn tips his fuzzy little head from side to side before barking. Morgan loves to get excited when she talks. That’s just her way.

  “Did she get excited talking to anyone in particular?”

  Acorn gives a soft bark once again. Her sister. Fern, of course. They were always talking very fast and loud. And then there’s her boyfriend, Colt. Colt liked to talk loud right back at Morgan. I never cared for that. And I let him know it, too. Jasper and I exchange a quick glance. And that blonde woman, the one that was already coming around. She was as loud as you can get.

  “Hollis Carrington?” I ask.

  That’s her, he growls. Hollis always seemed to have a bone to pick with Morgan. And Morgan would always tell me that one of these days she was going to find another production company.

  “Huh.” I shrug up at Jasper. “That rounds out a good-sized suspect list.”

  “So who are you planning to speak to next, Detective Wilder?” His lips curve a notch because we both know that deep down he doesn’t approve of me speaking to anyone regarding the case.

  “Morgan and then Colt, in exactly that order if I can help it. And you?”

  “Funny you should ask. I was just about to offer my wife an impromptu getaway trip to the mountains. I know for a fact Colt Avian will be at his post tomorrow. Are you up for cutting some powder on the slopes?”

  “Yes, but only because I’m determined to beat you to the bottom of the hill. Although that will make questioning our suspect a little bit tougher.”

  “You’re competitive, I like that.” He places his takeout box down onto the coffee table and I do the same. “I’m pretty competitive, too,” he says, pulling me onto his lap. “I’ve got an aerobic activity that can help us train for that downhill race tomorrow in the event you wanted to build up your endurance.”

  A laugh bubbles from me. “In the event I wanted to build up my endurance? I’ll take you up on that, but I think you should know I’m just as competitive with indoor sports as I am outdoors. And rumor has it that what we’re about to undertake is no spectator sport, so I’d bring my A game if I were you.”

  “I bring it every time for you, sweetheart,” he says that cute little moniker with just the right amount of a sarcastic edge and it makes me laugh all the louder.

  Jasper carries me to the bedroom and we compete well into the night.

  Colt Avian has some explaining to do tomorrow, and so does Morgan Buttonwood.

  Chapter 7

  I contacted Morgan Buttonwood as soon as I arrived at the inn the next morning, and once she learned that I was headed up to Big Bear that afternoon she said she was heading that way herself. So we’ve decided to hold off on our powwow until we meet again.

  And once Georgie heard me mention Big Bear, she all but changed into her snow gear on the spot. Emmie offered to watch my furry menagerie, and both Cinnamon and Acorn were over the moon. Turns out, they aren’t just identical in the looks department, but they share the same love for some hardcore wrestling. Fish said she’d mind the inn and Sherlock said he’d mind the café, but he did ask that in the event I went out to eat if I could bring him back a doggie bag. He’s been keen on leftovers ever since Georgie clued him in on the canine-based moniker.

  Jasper drives Georgie and me up through rugged terrain covered with snow and miles and miles of evergreens dusted with the sparkling white stuff, too. There is nothing better than the mountains of Maine in the dead of winter.

  “Oh, it looks like a postcard!” Georgie shouts. She jumped in the seat between Jasper and me for the ride up. She said she didn’t want to be in the back because she didn’t want anything to obstruct her view, and I can’t say I blame her.

  “It looks heavenly.” I sigh at the beauty overwhelming our world right now.

  “It’s romantic,” Georgie moans. “How I miss those days when I would sneak up to Big Bear for a weekend tryst. There’s nothing like taking a roll in the snow, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s not like a roll in the hay, is it?” I’m only mildly sorry I posed the question.

  Jasper rumbles out a dull laugh before she can answer.

  “You bet it’s like a roll in the hay.” Georgie shakes her head. “Only a lot less prickly and you’re prone to get your patoot flash frozen if you play your cards right.”

  Jasper shoots a sideways glance my way. “I suddenly feel like playing cards.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I tell him. “You’re not the one who’ll end up with a flash frozen patoot.”

  Georgie elbows me. “An irony when you consider the fact you’re the frigid one.”

  I cluck my tongue. “Georgie, you always say that. For your information, I am not frigid. Jasper, would you set the frigid record straight?”

  His lips twist as he looks out the windshield.

  “He’s awful quiet,” Georgie is quick to point out.

  “Jasper,” I hiss and he straightens.

  He clears his throat. “Georgie, let me assure you, Bizzy doesn’t even come close to being frigid. In fact, she’s the wildest woman I’ve ever been with.”

  “Really?” Georgie squeaks as if it were hard to believe.

  “Really.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “See?” I elbow Georgie right back. “Jasper has wisely doubled down on my hot-to-trot bedroom antics, as he should. I’ve really turned up the heat about as hot as it can go.”

  He twitches his brows as he grips the wheel. “And let me tell you, I’m impressed with the lava-like heat.”

  “The wildest woman you’ve ever been with?” Georgie squawks once again and I’m tempted to step on her foot, but she’s swaddled her toes in a pair of steel-toe boots that not even a steamroller can penetrate. “What about that Camila chick? She looks like she knows a hot move or two herself. You can’t tell me Bizzy is able to outperform Mrs. Va Va Voom.”

  “Georgie.” I laugh as I swat her on the arm. “There are some thoughts you don’t need to share.”

  “I’ll answer,” Jasper volunteers, and I hold my breath without meaning to. “Bizzy outperforms every single woman I’ve ever been with, and she excels in every single category. I’ll be honest, some of those moves—it made me wonder where you’ve been and with whom.”

  Georgie lets out a whoop and a holler, clapping up a storm as if we just won the lottery.

  “I knew that Spring Break in Cancun would do you some good, kid.” She winks my way, and I wink right back.

  “Who says there’s no studying after dark?” I say and the two of us break out into cackles.

  “Bizzy?” Jasper leans hard and the car careens for a moment before he rights us back on the road.

  “Oh, I’m kidding.” Mostly. “Eyes on the road. I’d like to arrive alive.”

  We soak in the beauty of the frosted world around us as we ascend ever so higher up the side of the mountain until we finally arrive at the quaint little town of Big Bear. The resort is just over the ridge, and we see the stunning chalet completely comprised of thick, rustic logs.

  We park and Jasper helps navigate us through the frozen parking lot until we step in
to the warmth of the foyer where the scent of a fresh fire and cinnamon hits us both at once.

  The ceilings in the lobby stretch upward at least a hundred feet in the air, and both the floors and the walls are comprised of dark stained wood with that Lincoln log look extending to the inside as well. To the right there’s a reception desk, and just beyond that we can see a grand room with an enormous river rock fireplace with flames crackling away. And dotted in front of the fire there are at least a dozen rocking chairs, some of them occupied and some of them calling me to be the one to occupy them. To the left there’s a café, and straight ahead there’s an enormous gingerbread house that looks like an exact representation of the chalet itself.

  “Psst!” someone hisses from my right, and I turn to find Morgan Buttonwood dressed up to look like the far more demure version of herself, her newly deceased sister Mabel.

  “Mor—Mabel!” I catch myself before it’s too late. It’s Morgan who they think is dead, not Mabel.

  She gives a shy smile as she makes her way over. Her hair is parted down the middle and pulled into two low hanging pigtails. She’s donned wire-rimmed glasses and her makeup is nothing more than powder. She’s stunning with that shock of dark hair and those lavender eyes. She has a blue turtleneck sweater on along with a pair of jeans.

  I quickly introduce her to Georgie and Jasper, and she quickly shakes both of their hands.

  “Colt is doing a tour of the facility. They’re super popular. Actually, the tour is in the kitchen now and soon they’ll be out by the gingerbread house.” She bites down on her bottom lip a moment. “Bizzy, would you mind if I had a word with you alone?”

  “Sure thing,” I say as we excuse ourselves and head over toward an alcove by the fireplace. “You look great,” I whisper as I step in close. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”

  She makes a face. “My eyes are like a faucet I have no control over. I’m not even bothering with mascara anymore. And to add insult to injury, Colt is already hitting on someone else.”

  “What a louse.”

  “It hasn’t even been a week.” She glowers in the direction of that massive gingerbread house. “Anyway, we weren’t all that strong toward the end. I was about to dump him.” She shrugs it off like it was no big deal. “On to important things,” she says. “How’s Acorn?”

  “Happy you’re alive, but he misses you. But if it makes you feel better, he’s having a good time with Fish and Sherlock Bones.”

  A sad smile curves on her lips. “That does make me feel a little better. Hug him for me. So what happened yesterday?” She gives an anxious nod. “What did Fern say?”

  I quickly relay the horrible story regarding the brakes on her father’s car.

  “Why would Fern tell you that?” She shakes her head as if she were truly perplexed. “It’s almost as if she was hinting that Colt was responsible for both that and killing my sister.”

  “Is there a reason Colt wanted you dead?”

  She glances past me once again. “I don’t know. But when you do grill him, I’d be curious as to what he says.” I don’t want to color her interrogation of him. We’ll see what Colt gives up, and then I’ll see how far I can go with Bizzy before divulging Colt’s darkest secrets. I’m not too thrilled that I know them let alone that I have to speak them out loud.

  I frown over at the woman. “Morgan, it was clear to me last night that Fern was hiding something. She hinted that the two of you had a disagreement. What was that about?”

  “It was stupid.” She tips her head back and takes a deep breath. “Fern wants to further her career, so she came up with a special song for me to open and close my show with. I told her I would think about it. She didn’t like that.” That was just one part of the story. No need to drag Bizzy down that illegal rabbit hole. “It’s true.” She offers an apologetic shrug. “The part about the song.”

  I take a moment to examine her. “If there’s anything that you’re holding back, anything at all, it could mean the difference between catching the killer and having them go free.”

  “I don’t want that.” Her eyes steady over mine for a moment. “Who else knows that Morgan Buttonwood is alive and well? Your friend Georgie? Your husband the homicide detective?”

  My shoulders sag a moment. “Georgie doesn’t know. Jasper does, but only because it’s practically against the law for me to keep anything from him. We just got married. I’m new at this keeping secrets thing.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to keep a secret from your husband, Bizzy. Especially since he also happens to be investigating the case. He’s the law, for Pete’s sake.” And that’s exactly why I won’t spill Fern’s dirty secret. I guess in a way it’s become my dirty secret, too.

  And there’s that.

  I can’t help but frown over at her.

  “Oh, look”—she pulls me in—“the tour is out of the kitchen. I’ll hang back. Colt thinks I’m here picking up some of my sister’s things he had at his place. He left them for me in his office.”

  Sure enough, I spot about a dozen people milling around the oversized gingerbread house.

  “That’s him.” She points to the dark-haired, stalky, tall man with the goatee I met briefly that day at the inn. “And there’s that hussy he keeps schmoozing with.”

  “Where?” I crane my neck to get a better look.

  “The cheap blonde on the end.” She sucks in a quick breath. “Bizzy! I think she’s hitting on your husband right now. You’d best take care of this. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She gives me a light shove and I take a few steps forward before a hard groan works its way up my throat. I speed up and head straight for the cheap blonde in question.

  “Macy,” I hiss as I pluck her my way. “What are you doing here?”

  Macy has on a pair of purple ski bibs and a white turtleneck beneath that. She has on a dubious amount of mascara, bright pink lipstick, and perfume—and I’m sensing a testosterone takedown in the making.

  She yanks her elbow free. “The better question is what are you doing here?”

  Georgie pops up and lands her arm over my shoulder. “I’m guessing blondie here is looking to have her hind end flash frozen in the snow.”

  “I’m guessing you’re right,” I say, leaning in close to my feisty sister. “How could you? The guy just lost his girlfriend.”

  Macy growls out a hearty cry of frustration. “Why are you always judging me? If you must know, there’s just something succulent about men that are grieving. They’re certainly not looking for anything long-term, and yet they’re about as tender and gentle as can be. Just like that bite of a perfectly cooked medium rare steak right next to the bone that for a moment you wonder if it’s raw and going to give you some monster parasite, but you toss out your better judgment and take the bite anyway—and boy, does it ever melt in your mouth.” She drags out those last few words while thrusting her head back in a display of passion, or lust, or whatever other inappropriate meaty emotion she’s doling out at the moment.

  “Never mind,” I say, glancing over at him as he laughs at something that a couple of older women are telling him. “He is single. And apparently, he and his ex were about to call it quits.”

  Macy gives a frenetic nod. “They hit the skids about a year ago. Colt told me himself they were just dragging the carcass of their relationship along until it felt right to let it go.”

  Colt waves to the crowd. “And for this part of the tour, I’d like to tell you all about this gingerbread wonder.”

  “Come on.” Macy pulls both Georgie and me along. “I’m not missing out on my free cookie.”

  “Free cookies?” Georgie says a touch too loud and the crowd gives a warm laugh as we join them.

  Jasper walks over and wraps an arm around my waist while Colt regales us with the details on how much flour and brown sugar went into the making of this magnificent gingerbread chalet. There are actually thirty rooms inside that cookie wonder, and each and every one of them is furnishe
d. A few of the front windows are made of isomalt sugar, and there’s even working electricity inside to give it that lived-in glow. I would love to make a gingerbread replica of the inn one day. I bet all of Cider Cove would come to take a look at it.

  I take my phone out and snap a picture of the giant cookie palace to show Emmie in the event she feels inspired to bake for a year straight.

  Jasper tucks a kiss just shy of my ear. How did it go with Morgan?

  “Okay, I guess,” I whisper. “But there were a few little oddities. She’s holding something back regarding Fern and this guy, too.”

  He nods. Interesting.

  “I thought so.”

  Colt invites us all to freely walk around the gingerbread structure just as a woman comes out of the kitchen with a batch of fresh baked gingerbread men for each of us.

  He holds one up. “At the Big Bear Resort, we like to appreciate the finer details of Christmas year-round.”

  Our small crowd breaks out into a spontaneous cheer as we indulge in the warm gingerbread delights. They’re so delicious it doesn’t seem fair these cookies only have a spotlight over them once a year.

  I’ll hang out with Georgie and make sure she doesn’t break anything. Just know I’ll be watching you, Jasper says as he steps to the right, and I go left, stepping over to Colt.

  “This is truly amazing,” I say as I shake my head at the two-story edible sweet treat. “How long did you say it took the staff to build this?”

  “Two months.” He lifts his chin with a note of pride. “It would have been quicker, but let’s just say there was a bit of a catastrophe about halfway through and the ovens needed to be turned on once again.”

  A laugh bumps from me. “Well, it would take me two lifetimes, so two months is still super impressive.”

  He’s about to laugh just before his expression turns on a dime.

  “I just realized why you look so familiar.” Good grief. Is she investigating me?

  I suck in a quick breath. “I’m Bizzy Baker.” I grimace because I accidently left off the most important part of my new name. “I was the special guest that day at Morgan’s taping. But that’s not why I’m here.” Thank God for Macy’s hyperactive sex drive. “That’s my sister.” I nod her way and we watch as Macy cranes her neck to get a better look at the miniature furniture set up at the far end of the gingerbread house.