A Winter Tail of Woe

by Addison Moore

  “And it’s a wrap!” Fern shouts.

  The entire room stills for a moment as we try to make sense of the chaos before the crew stirs to life as they begin to take down all of their equipment.

  Sherlock and Acorn lick the floor clean, while Camila and Macy stride right out the door chatting a mile a minute about their new collaborative effort.

  Juni looks to be collecting the numbers of three different crewmen who oddly fit her descriptor, while Georgie tries to cram the very last brownie into her bulging mouth as if it were a dare at a frat house.

  And Mom, poor Mom is staggering forward while mumbling the words we’re two old broads over and over again. And judging by the vacant look on her face, she hasn’t come close to processing this catastrophe. And yet, something tells me I don’t want to be there when she does.

  Hollis heads this way on her way to the door, grinning from ear-to-ear.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Bizzy.” She grimaces a bit when she says it. “But that was gold. Trust me when I say that this shop and Lather and Light will both be brimming with more business than they’ll know what to do with.” She sighs my way. “And you know what? I bet after we finish the segment with Mabel, your inn will be brimming, too.”

  “Here’s hoping.” I tip my head as I examine the woman. “Hollis, you knew Morgan well. Who in the world do you think would want to hurt her like that?”

  Her eyes flit across the room a moment.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs my way. “Morgan seemed to have an issue with just about everyone those last few weeks of her life. But I suppose the sheriff’s department will catch up with whoever did this sooner than later. I’ll see you at the inn.” She glances back one more time. Some people just get away with everything, and I can’t even park in the red zone.

  She takes off, and I glance in the direction where she was looking only to find Fern Tuttle holding Fish while talking to my mother.

  Fern Tuttle?

  Morgan is covering for Fern, I know this for a fact. Maybe it’s time to unearth a few secrets while I’ve got her in my sights.

  She glances my way before handing Fish back to my mother and heading this way.

  “Good show,” she says with a wave. “Gotta run. I’ll see you soon, Bizzy.” And with that, she strides right out the door.

  It looks as if I’ll have to work a little harder to track her down one more time.

  I don’t see why not. Everything has been a little harder with this case.

  And the hardest part is getting Morgan Buttonwood to cooperate.

  Go figure.

  Chapter 11

  As soon as we wrapped up at the shop—correction, as soon as I could get my mother to stop slapping herself, Georgie to open her left eye and stop giggling like a schoolgirl—and after I plucked Juni off of the man in charge of lighting—Jasper picked me up and we headed down to the Glimmerspell Courthouse. He flashed his badge, and more importantly his smile at all the right people and landed us with the exact document we were looking to procure.

  “I can’t believe we’re looking at Jefferson Buttonwood’s will.”

  “The estate went through probate. That means the will is up for grabs,” he says as we head over to a wooden bench not too far away from where they gladly handed Jasper a copy.

  Jasper looks like a fevered dream in his dark suit, his golden tie. His cologne is thick, and I’m tempted to run my fingers through the back of his hair. So I do.

  He lifts his chin and his lips flicker with wicked intent. “Proposition accepted.”

  “Did I just proposition you?” I tease.

  “According to page seventy-five of that how to shock the hell out of your husband manual—that, my friend, was a binding agreement.”

  “Well then, I’ll have to keep my end of the bargain. That is, if you keep yours.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Page one hundred and one—all partners shall be equally willing and satisfied.”

  “Satisfied, huh?” His cheek flinches on one side, and for a second I’m convinced he’s about to pounce. Honestly, I don’t think I’d mind. After the trauma I witnessed this afternoon, what’s a little public display of coital affection? There are worse things to go to jail for.

  I blink up at him. “The will, please, before I start begging for far more carnal things from you.”

  A rumble comes from his chest as he holds the document out for us to examine. And after about fifteen minutes of hemming and hawing, we exhaust ourselves in the effort to decipher it.

  I blow out a breath. “It looks as if Mr. Buttonwood and his new wife left everything to the girls in a fifty-fifty split.”

  He nods. “I guess that letter we spotted could have been junk mail. Apparently, there was nothing to dispute.”

  “I guess we’ll never know.” A thought hits me and I pull out my phone. “That place was called Liberty Inheritance Disputes. I bet it’s local.” I run a quick search. “Look at that! It’s right down the street.”

  “We can’t just walk in and demand answers. They have a legal obligation to keep private the information we’d need.”

  “We don’t need information,” I say, pulling him up and leading us to the exit. “We just need for them to confirm if she was a client.”

  As fate would have it, Liberty Inheritance Disputes is less than a block away, so Jasper and I enjoy a leisurely stroll through a chill factor of minus your fingers only to stumble into the law offices desperate to thaw ourselves out.

  “Next time I’m driving, even if it is three doors down.” Jasper pulls me in and I can hear his teeth chattering as he plants a kiss to my forehead.

  We head over to the secretary, a nice looking middle-aged woman with short dark hair and red-framed glasses, who is instantly obliterated by Jasper Wilder’s glowing eyes.

  He flashes his badge, along with his killer smile once again, and soon enough she’s scrolling through the computer screen in front of her.

  “She’s a client, all right, but it seems Ms. Buttonwood’s only sibling has passed away.” She blinks back. “So very sad.” She looks up at the two of us. “I guess that’s that.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I say. We thank her and head back out into the arctic blast.

  Jasper wraps his arms around me and warms my back with his hands.

  “You did it. You got us the exact piece of information we were hoping to procure. Mabel was a client. And page two hundred and forty-five states clearly that you should celebrate your partner’s victories enthusiastically and often.”

  “Oh, does it?” A laugh gets caught in my throat. “The book only had one hundred and thirty pages.”

  “Page forty-two said to be creative. Besides, I’m adding an addendum.”

  “I like how your mind thinks. Let’s get home and celebrate in front of the fire.”

  He winces. “I thought you mentioned Fish said she would claw my eyes out if she caught us like that again.”

  “Yes, but Fish, Sherlock, and Acorn are with their aunt Macy for the day.”

  “I thought your mother was watching them?”

  “Macy’s sort of watching my mother, too. It’s a long story. But I’d much rather focus on us.”

  Jasper lands a searing kiss to my lips, and all the attention is right where it belongs.

  We head home and make that cottage sing like never before.

  Now to figure out how to make Morgan Buttonwood sing.

  Why in the world was Mabel trying to sue her sister?

  That’s exactly what I’m about to find out. But I’m guessing I won’t get one iota of help from Morgan.

  Chapter 12

  That night I called a meeting of the minds, but Jasper called it something far less formal—dinner.

  I invited Emmie and Leo to join us for the nosh-fest, and it feels like a party even though it’s just the four of us. Our furry menagerie opted to have a party of their own at my cottage. And not only did Emmie and Leo bring Cinna
mon over, but Gatsby finally warmed up to the idea, too.

  Once we got the furballs fed and settled, we headed out into the wintery night to do the same for ourselves. At first, we thought we should head out to Main Street to a fancy sit-down place, but the storm was bearing down sending that fluffy frozen white stuff to our little slice of Maine at a record pace so we opted for something a lot closer to home, the café.

  Emmie and I are enjoying clam chowder in enormous sourdough bread bowls, while Jasper and Leo have that in addition to a juicy steak.

  “So let’s talk about the inn.” Emmie bounces in her seat. She looks adorable tonight in her thick purple sweater and her hair piled on her head in a messy bun. Oddly enough, I’m sporting the same hairstyle with a sweater of my own, mine being cherry red.

  I know Emmie better than I know myself, and that’s why for the life of me I can’t figure out why she just steered us from the question I just posed a few minutes ago.

  My mouth falls open. “So you’re really not going to tell me what’s going on with Mackenzie?”

  “It’s not important right now.” She winces, and I can tell she’s struggling not to think about it. Believe me, Emmie is acutely aware of the fact she has not one but two mind readers at the table with her. And according to Leo, he says he’s not apprised of Mack’s secretive behavior, and he’s not all that concerned.

  Easy for him to say. He’s not the one watching his best friend get stolen from under him.

  Leo lifts a brow. Emmie’s not going anywhere, Bizzy. I can promise you that. Don’t let Mack ruin your meal. He nods my way. “What do you have planned for the inn, Bizzy? The place is all yours now.”

  I take a breath as I look to Jasper. “The irony being it’s always felt as if it were mine. It’s almost as if now that it’s mine on paper as well, I’m terrified to implement anything new.”

  Emmie gives a mournful sigh. “Then don’t think new, think improved. I get it. Quinn Bennet was a safety net for you. And now that the safety net is gone, you’re afraid you might plummet. But guess what? You’re still flying. And once you make a few minor tweaks around here, you’re going to soar.” Her lips twitch as if she were holding back a full-blown smile. “So? How does everyone like the food?”

  Jasper moans, “I was just thinking to myself this T-bone is better than any I’ve had in a steakhouse.”

  “Ooh, give me a bite,” I say and Jasper quickly does just that. A hard moan comes from me as that perfectly grilled beef melts in my mouth. “Emmie. What is going on in that kitchen? And my clam chowder tastes as if it’s been kicked up a notch. It’s the perfect consistency. You know I like it thick and creamy, and there’s the perfect ratio of clams to potatoes. And the bread bowl? We should have thought of this eons ago.”

  Emmie ticks her head to the side. “Our old night chef left, and I found a new one that just moved here from Manhattan. He’s bringing all sort of new ideas and recipes to the café, and he’s completely retrained the staff about how they think of food. Bizzy, I think we have an untapped gold mine here. Sure, we get the guests and the occasional trickle from the townspeople, but I have a feeling we can really put the café on the map. Look around. This place is enormous, and yet there are only a handful of people here. But once folks get a hint of how amazing the cuisine is, we’re not going to have enough room. Crowds will be flocking here.”

  Jasper glances my way before looking to Emmie. “So are we talking a remodel?”

  “Not really.” Emmie shrugs. “I’m thinking the food will speak for itself. And the casual appeal won’t be lost on people either. Plus, we’re family friendly and our prices are reasonable. I think we just need to jazz up the menu a little and let the chef do his thing. The key is getting the word out somehow.”

  “Like a party?” I ask.

  Jasper cocks his head to the side. “How about a grand reopening?”

  “Yes!” Emmie gives him a quick high-five. “And that way we can reintroduce the inn to Cider Cove and the rest of the world.”

  “I guess I could make up a few banners and get some of those balloon arches. We can make it a monthlong event. And if I did make changes, that would be a great time to introduce them.”

  Leo shakes his head. “Don’t feel pressured to come up with all the changes at once. You can constantly roll out new ideas. A grand reopening is a great way to put a positive spotlight on the inn.”

  I make a face. “Lord knows it needs that. We’ve had so much tragedy here. Did you know I’ve been fielding phone calls of people who want to know what time the haunted inn tours begin?”

  Jasper chuckles. “I’d say give the people what they want, but we don’t have any ghosts here.” He lifts a brow. “Do we?”

  “None that I know of. And honestly, I’d hate to disappoint people.”

  Jasper purses his lips. “Then don’t tell them there are ghosts. And instead of billing the inn as haunted, maybe you could do something different. No tours, but maybe something here in the café or something bigger in the ballroom? A fright and delight brunch? You could tell them the history of haunted Maine.”

  “That sounds fun.” A thought hits me and I grimace. “I’d hate for any of the families of those that have passed away to think I’m trying to profit off their grief.”

  “Those people who passed away here won’t be the focus.” Emmie leans in. “Face it, people know about the inn and its murderous reputation. It’s already highlighted. There are a ton of groups out there that hold conventions, like groups that focus on true crime, paranormal activity, amateur sleuth clubs, and ghost hunters. If I were you, I’d reach out to those groups. Maybe offer them an incentive to host their conventions here. And not only their conventions, but I bet some local chapters have weekly meetings. You can let them meet up in the library, and I’m sure you’d pick up business not only at the café, but in general once they see how great the inn is.”

  “I love it,” I say. “I’m running with it tomorrow. I can’t wait to breathe new life into this place. And as much as I love the killer agenda, pun intended, I want to make the inn the it place to be for families as well.”

  “How about hosting family reunions?” Jasper lifts his glass as if he were toasting me before he takes a sip of his water.

  “Yes!” I bounce in my seat. “So many families have them in the summer. I can offer a bulk booking discount. That should help them and me. Thank you for helping me brainstorm. I finally feel a little relief. I was half-afraid the inn was on the brink of death.”

  “Speaking of death.” Leo nods to Jasper. “What did you find out at the courthouse?”

  Jasper lifts a finger my way. “I defer to the lead investigator.”

  A laugh rumbles through me. “I’d like to think that we’re an investigative team.” I give a little wink his way. “But as it turns out, Mabel Buttonwood was seeing an attorney, one who specializes in disputing wills. We think there was dissention in the ranks with the sisters. But we’re not sure why. And I don’t think Mabel is going to give us a straight answer.” I try my hardest not to let the switcheroo secret out of the bag. In fact, I do my best to block all thoughts of it as well. I don’t want a whisper of this getting out.

  Leo clears his throat as he gives me a sharp look. “What about her good friend?” he asks. “The one that you went to the Merry Frog to interview? She might know a thing or two about it.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I say. “I didn’t get much from her the first time. But I’m making a point to speak to Fern one more time.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Jasper says as he takes another forkful of that mouthwatering steak.

  “Ooh, I wanna go.” Emmie laughs. “And I promise to stay out of your way. I just want to get out into the world. This has been a long, cold winter. I’m ready to let loose and have some fun.”

  “For your sake, I hope to track her down somewhere downright boring. I think she’s a regular at the Merry Frog out in Whaler’s Wharf, and trust me when I say, I ha
d far more excitement than necessary the last time I was there. Have I mentioned Georgie has a gun named Thor? Anyway, my last investigative stop was a bookstore. That was the height of excitement for me.” I nudge Jasper with my foot because we’re already on our second read-through of that spicy book.

  Leo gives a blink my way. “You found the bookstore exciting?” And I don’t want to know anything about this book.

  “Sorry.” I cringe as I look to Jasper. “Let’s just say that bookstore in Glimmerspell was magic.”

  “Glimmerspell?” Emmie leans in. “I’ve been wanting to go there for years.”

  “You should,” I say. “In fact, we should go together. There’s this adorable covered bridge you take to get into town, and it’s as if you’re instantly transported to some enchanted world. The streets are lined with cobblestone, much like Cider Cove, and it’s just as cozy, if not more so.”

  Emmie squints over at me. “You do realize that town has a reputation for being a notorious playground for paranormal activity.”

  “No way.”

  “Way,” she teases. “It’s rife with rumors and folklore concerning vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and fae—as in fairies.”

  “Fairies, huh?” Jasper glances my way. “I don’t know much about Glimmerspell, but I’ve always heard the people who live there rarely move away. Maybe there’s some truth to those supernatural rumors. Who knows? Maybe it’s really just a huge transmundane community?”

  My lips part as I look to Leo, my transmundane brother in arms.

  “That would be something,” I say. “But I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary while I was at the bookstore. Emmie, you have to see the Haunted Book Barn. It was so homey and cute, I am definitely going to be a repeat customer. And it’s pet friendly, too. You could bring Gatsby and Cinnamon when we go.”

  “I’m in,” she says, plucking a piece of her bread bowl apart. “I’m excited about both the books and the puppy outing. In fact—” She chokes on her next word as something near the door steals her attention and the rest of us look over to find Mackenzie Woods scowling in our direction. She offers a curt nod our way before heading to the front of the café to place her order.