“It’s not true.” Fern gives a frenetic shake of the head as she takes a careful step backward.
“It’s true, Bizzy,” Morgan says without missing a beat. “I don’t know how you figured that one out, but I have to hand it to you. It is one hundred percent correct.”
“It is.” I nod to the startled woman before us. “I’m just surprised I didn’t piece it together sooner. You were having your boyfriend launder money through Morgan’s bookstore, in one thousand dollar increments at a time. And Mabel was recording it as a box of used books. The two of you did this many times, and then either Morgan or Mabel pulled the plug. And I bet you felt threatened by that. You thought they might tell the authorities, didn’t you?”
Fern takes a gulping breath before shooting daggers through her eyes at Morgan.
“How dare you lie to me, of all people, and not fess up that it was Mabel who died.” Her chest convulses as she seethes out the words. “How dare you swear on your life that you wouldn’t tell a living soul what we were doing, and then you go behind my back and tell this nitwit? Who happens to be married to a cop!”
Morgan scoffs. “How dare you plot to kill me. How dare you murder my sister. I don’t care who you thought you were killing. The fact is, you took someone I love far more than anyone else—someone who was the only thing good in my life—off of this planet. Both you and your ridiculous drug running boyfriend deserve to rot in prison for this.”
Fern tosses up a hand in exasperation. “I’ll never admit to it. There are more holes in your story than there are mine, and there’s a room full of far more obvious suspects back there that can and will fry for this, but how in the hell did you figure this out?”
Morgan ticks her head to the side. “I didn’t until now, but it looks as if Bizzy wasn’t a nitwit after all.” She sheds a quick smile my way.
“No, I’m not.” I glower at the killer before us. “You had your boyfriend procure the deadly poison that killed Mabel, didn’t you? It’s from a plant called curare. I bet you got the idea from the Merry Frog where you spend so many nights crooning away and evidently plotting what you hoped would be the perfect crime. There’s a picture of a heart-shaped plant on the wall in the entry. The Native Americans used curare on occasion to poison the tips of their arrows. You must have studied that picture enough to know that was something you were interested in—poison. You wanted to keep Morgan from talking. Maybe even use her death to trick Mabel into getting back into the money laundering game with you. I bet you would have vowed to be her new family.”
She nods as her eyes harden over mine. “I would have done just that. And I would have been a great new sister to Mabel. I loved her. I loved them both.” She looks to Morgan. “I would have cut Mabel in on it this time. I tried to tell you the same thing, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“I thought I was doing a favor for a friend,” Morgan’s words bite through the air with their hostility. “You said Richie had mattress money, and he didn’t want to alert the feds. You said he only needed to wash ten grand.” Morgan points her finger hard at the woman. “Boy, you thought I was an idiot. And I was—right up until Colt alerted me to the fact Richie was a drug lackey polluting the streets of Edison with his filth. And I wanted nothing to do with it. So I put an end to it,” she riots. “And you didn’t care for that, did you? That’s why you came by my house the night before you killed my sister. You brought those poisoned muffins and said they were a peace offering. You said Richie wasn’t interested in me or my bookstore anymore. You called it a truce. And you know what? I didn’t believe you. I knew in my soul that something sinister was afoot. I made up the fact Acorn ate that junk you brought over.” She glances my way. “And I did go to the vet that morning. But it was to pick up flea medicine.”
Acorn jumps and barks. I told you, Bizzy. I told you!
“Come here, sweetie.” Morgan gives him a giant scratch over the length of his back before looking back up at Fern. “I went to Edison that day, and I talked to Richie. I was right. He knew nothing about your so-called truce. In fact, he thought I was there to arrange for another monetary drop-off. I went home, and that’s when you texted me with the news. You were so very sorry to tell me that my sister had passed away.”
“I didn’t text you.” Fern squints over at her. “I texted Mabel. See, Bizzy? Her story doesn’t hold water. No one will believe her. No one will believe either of you.”
“We switched phones,” Morgan riots. “You poisoned my water bottle and you gave it to my sister to drink, thinking she was me.”
“So what?” Fern riots back. “I did it and it’s all your fault. All you had to do was play along and none of this would have happened. Richie is running with a dangerous crowd. You have no idea what they’re capable of.”
“Oh, I know.” Morgan nods. “They’re capable of murder.”
Fern gives a wide-eyed look to the girl before her. “I’ll have you committed. But, Bizzy?” She shifts her gaze my way. “You, I’ll have to kill.”
In less than a second the crook of her arm is around my neck and she’s doing her best to drag me off backward.
“No!” Morgan riots as she threatens to take a step and Fern holds up a hand.
“It will be quick,” Fern whispers. “I’ll break your neck and make it look as if Mabel here did it. I’m sorry you ever got mixed up in this, Bizzy. You seem like a very nice lady.”
Fish leaps from my arms and slices her claws along the side Fern’s face, leaving a trio of red lines in her wake before she bounces to the floor.
Both Sherlock and Acorn waste no time attacking the girl, and yet Fern’s grip tightens around my neck ever so much, restricting my breathing.
“Get down,” she shouts at the dogs. “Don’t make me kick you!” Her left leg flails in an effort to get them away from her, and I take the moment to swipe her right leg from under her.
We fall together, sloppily, onto the frozen ground and Fern quickly loses her grasp on me. I do my best to roll away, and as I do, Fern grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me back.
Morgan screams like a banshee as she falls over the two of us, doing her best to free me from Fern’s death grip as my scalp begins to burn. It’s a tangle of dog limbs and human limbs as Morgan and I work with our furry friends to subdue the woman.
We managed to flip Fern over, and I pin her wrists to her back with my knee.
Fish hops over and firmly plants herself on the woman’s back.
If she dares to make a move, she’s losing an eyeball, she mewls. Both probably.
“Freeze!” a deep voice calls from our right, and I look up to see Jasper and Leo running over, weapons drawn.
Soon I’m scooped up into Jasper Wilder’s arms while Leo takes over with Fern.
“She killed my sister!” Morgan shouts.
“She did.” I nod to Jasper. “Fern confessed to killing Mabel, even though she thought it was Morgan at the time. And her boyfriend is a part of the Backwood Boys. He’s the drug runner you’re looking for,” I pant.
Morgan nods. “I know where he is. I can help you find him.”
Jasper looks to Leo. “I’ll get backup. You take her in. I’ll talk to Morgan and get the information to the department.”
Jasper offers a pained smile my way. “I’m sorry. I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, pulling him close. “Go do what you have to do. I’ll head inside and cancel the show.”
“No.” Morgan looks my way. “If it’s all right, after I give you the information, I’d like to go ahead with the show.” She frees her hair from its restrictive bun and pulls off her glasses. “Morgan Buttonwood is back, and I think the world should know it. And don’t worry. I’ll reference the fact the killer was caught and current charges are pending.” She glowers at her old friend. “I won’t out you yet, but not because of any loyalty I have to you. Because I’d hate to taint the trial before it ever begins. Look around, Fern. This is your last moment
of freedom. You did this to yourself. Not me.”
Leo carts Fern off and Morgan tells Jasper all she knows about the Backwood Boys.
We head inside and Morgan saves her big reveal for the cameras. She raves about the inn, about me, and she dedicates the entire show to the memory of her late sister, Mabel Buttonwood.
Murder, Mayhem, and Baking is back.
This was a show for the ages—and her snowball cookies turn out pretty good, too.
Chapter 17
It’s just a week after Fern Tuttle was arrested and booked for killing Mabel Buttonwood. Jasper and the rest of the task force assigned to the Backwood Boys made quick work of detaining them all and shutting down what was one of the biggest drug running operations Edison had ever seen.
The citizens of both Edison and Cider Cove can sleep better knowing that a killer and a drug ring were brought to justice simultaneously.
And oddly, the Country Cottage Inn is reaping the benefits as well. To say that Morgan’s glowing review of the inn was a boon for business would be underestimating it by a mile.
Emmie convinced me that we should move up the grand reopening to ride on the coattails of this surge of attention, and so we’ve put up a couple of massive balloon arches out front in every shade of blue to match the inn, and are hosting an open house for all of Cider Cove, for anyone at all, to come and tour the grounds.
Jordy, Nessa, Grady, and the rest of the staff are playing the part of tour guides while I welcome guests into the ballroom where I’ve invited all of the shops from Main Street to open a little kiosk and hock their wares for the day. Since this is the last stop on the tour, Emmie and I put together a refreshment table that includes free snowball cookies for one and all.
The ballroom is brimming with bodies, along with the happy chatter from the crowd, and it makes my heart sing just to witness it.
Fish purrs in my arms. I’ve got another idea you should consider implementing, Bizzy.
“What’s that?” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her cool ear.
Sherlock barks by my feet. Now this I’ve got to hear.
Fish playfully swipes at Sherlock before letting out a sharp meow. A catnip bar.
Sherlock yodels out a laugh. If you do that, Bizzy, you’ll have to implement a bacon bar, too.
“If I did that, I’d have every human alive fighting you for that bacon,” I tease.
A trio of familiar faces—Mom, Georgie, and Juni—heads my way, and each one of them is outfitted in one of their wonky quilt dresses, which have oddly taken Cider Cove, and perhaps all of Maine, by storm.
“What do you think?” Mom does a little spin. “Can you believe this look is actually trending?”
“Heck yeah, it is.” Juni jumps as she holds out the front of her green and white patterned accouterment. “Influencers from all over the country have been calling the store, asking me to ship them a wonky quilt dress.”
“That’s right.” Georgie holds up a hand and Juni slaps her five. “Everyone wants a piece of what we’ve got.”
Mom huffs, “Juni, please tell me you haven’t been shipping free merchandise to God knows who. If we shipped out a dress to every person who claimed to be an influencer, we’d lose the wonky dresses right off our backs in less than two seconds.”
Juni flinches as she eyes the exit. “Excuse me, ladies. I think I need to get to the post office before a certain shipment of goods gets sent out.” She bolts out of the ballroom like a flash of lightning and Mom gives a hard moan.
“So much for all those profits we just made happen.”
“Don’t worry, Prep.” Georgie slaps her on the back. “We’ve made magic happen before, and we’ll do it again. And don’t you try to tell me my magic brownies had nothing to do with it. This entire scene is happening thanks to those magic brownies.”
“How do you figure?” I ask.
“Once you saw how well that show and those brownies served us, you hopped on the magical bandwagon.”
“More or less.” I shrug. Like most things Georgie says, somewhere in her convoluted analogy lies the truth. “But it was Morgan’s idea to talk about this place during the taping. And I’m glad she did it. So what’s next for Two Old Broads?”
“Now that the weather will be warming up,” Mom glances at her partner in wonky arms, “I’m thinking we market our quilts as wonky beach blankets.”
“Ohh.” I wiggle my shoulders. “I want one already. I can’t wait to lounge around under the sun.”
Georgie nods. “Send your guests our way and we’ll give them a discount on their beach quilts. Just tell ’em to use the code magic brownies.”
We share a quick laugh over that one.
“And don’t forget to invite them to my book club,” Georgie adds. “It’s called Two Old Broads and a Dirty Book.”
“It is not.” Mom is quick to shut down the dirty idea. “At least that’s not my book club. The name of mine is Two Old Broads and a Cozy Mystery. Tell your guests about my book club, Bizzy. I’ll give them a discount on their beach blankets, too. Just tell them to use the code Georgie Conner is coo-coo.”
Georgie offers her a wry smile. “You’re a riot a minute, Prep. Lucky for you, I’ve got a brownie in my pocket with your name on it.”
A laugh bumps from me. “Before you exchange barbs and magic brownies, you should probably know that the inn is playing host to a book club in just a couple of weeks. They’re called the Grim Readers and they specialize in murder mysteries. I think their next book is a cozy mystery,” I say, looking at my mother. “You should both come. I’ll get the details to you once I have them.”
“Did someone say book club?” Macy pops up, looking sleek in a black leather jacket and matching boots over her jeans. “I just so happened to open one up at my shop. It’s called the Spirited Book Club.”
“Ooh.” Georgie wiggles her fingers. “Have any hot ghosts in attendance? If you do, expect me to show up early and stay late. I haven’t had me a steamy date with a specter in a good long while.”
“Georgie, we read, drink books, and read booze,” Macy snips, and Mom and I share a laugh at my sister’s boozy book mix-up. I have a feeling Macy is already imbibing the spirits. “Our secret club name is Read Between the Wines.”
“In that case,” Georgie lifts a finger, “I’ll arrive early and I may never leave.”
Mom laughs. “Oh, you’ll find your way back to me. You always do.”
Emmie crops up next to us. “Hey, ladies.” She gives a somewhat apprehensive smile.
“What’s happening, Emmie?” I ask. “Did something go wrong with one of the tours? Oh no, don’t tell me there’s a body.”
“No.” She’s quick to wave off the idea with both hands. “There’s not a body, I promise. Well, actually…” She glances to the ceiling just as Leo and Jasper step up, and I clasp my arms around Jasper’s waist.
“Something is definitely happening,” I say. “What is it, Em?”
Leo presses his lips tightly as he lands his arms around his fiancée, and I can tell he knows something.
I suck in a quick breath. “Are you moving up the wedding? Did you elope?”
“Are you with child?” Georgie belts it out, and now I’m holding my breath just waiting for the big reveal.
Just as her lips part to say something, Huxley and Mackenzie step into our circle.
“Mayor Woods.” I give her a curt look to go along with my curt tone. I guess you could say I’m not too thrilled with her best friend stealing tactics as of late. “Hux.” I nod to my brother.
“Fine,” Mackenzie snips as she looks my way. “I heard what you were all grousing about.”
“Whoa.” Hux pulls back as he looks to his new bride. “What’s going on, Mack? Just because you’re upset with me, please don’t take it out on everyone else.”
She grunts as she rolls her eyes, “I’m not upset with you. I’m cranky!”
I could have told him that. And poor Hux has a lifetime of Mackenzie’s speci
al brand of cranky to look forward to as well. Or at least as long as he can stand the pain.
Mackenzie gives us all a steely-eyed look. “Since you’re all here, I have something to say. Up until now only Emmie has been privy to my secret. That’s because I wasn’t up for sharing this news with anyone in my family just yet and I needed someone to process it with.”
My heart thumps wildly.
Here it comes.
She’s about to give my brother his walking papers. I knew they wouldn’t last, and now she’s about to break poor Huxley’s heart.
Mackenzie clears her throat. “Huxley and I are having a baby.” She lifts her chin and is met with three solid seconds of silence.
Then in a burst, a round of cheers erupts, and my mother howls as if she’s about to lose her mind and float off into the rafters.
“A baby?” I choke out the words. “You mean you’re not leaving my brother?”
Mackenzie’s lips curl at the tips. “You wish, Bizzy. I’m not leaving your brother. I’m in love with the brute.”
Hux pulls her into a tight embrace and kisses her right on the lips.
I’ll admit, it looks perfectly romantic, as if they were very much in love. And now I have no doubt they are.
“We’re having a baby?” he shouts as he pulls back from her arms. “I’m going to be a dad?”
Mackenzie nods and they enter into another full-blown smooch-fest.
Macy shudders. “I’m going to be an aunt. Aunt sounds so old. I’ll have to think of something cute for the kid to call me like the Marvelous Miss Macy.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve already given this some thought?” I tease.
Her lips twist. “Fine. I have. But only because I expected you and Jasper would be the first to breed.”
“We’ll get there.” I wink up at him. “When the time is right.”
Mom shakes her head. “Don’t wait for the time to be right, Bizzy. Trust me, the right time never seems to come. Look at your brother and Mackenzie? They just jumped in with both feet.”
A Winter Tail of Woe Page 15