Country Cottage Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  Mom gasps once she sees us. Her hair is coifed and feathered circa 1983, and she’s donned her preppy attire, stovepipe jeans, a coral cable knit sweater with a blouse underneath patterned with pumpkins. Her collar is popped with pride—the only way Ree Baker does it—and she looks amazing.

  “You’re here!” She glances back to Jasper’s look-alike. “Max, you must meet my daughters.” She leans our way with sudden death rays shooting out of her eyes. “Tell him my age and I’ll disown you both before noon,” she issues the threat lower than a whisper.

  The six-foot-two, stunning wall of muscles steps over and wraps an arm around my mother in a spontaneous show of affection, and my sister all but falls to the ground.

  A deep groan comes from Macy as if she were actually mortally wounded by the display of affection.

  “Girls”—Mom brims with pride—“I’d like to introduce you to my new boyfriend.”

  “Mother?” Macy shakes her head in disbelief. “Please tell me this is his hot, available son and you couldn’t wait to introduce me to him.” She angles her head at the poor guy. “Anyone ever tell you that you look suspiciously like a detective from the Seaview Sherriff’s Department?”

  “Max Wilder.” The six-foot wonder laughs as he extends his hand to Macy. “That would be my brother, Jasper, you’re thinking about. And no, I’m not available.” He winces. “I’m actually taken by this girl right here.” He lands a tender kiss to Mom’s cheek, and both Macy and I cringe—for two entirely different reasons.

  Sherlock knocks his head to my knee. Why is Jasper kissing your mother? He jumps up quickly. Oh, wait. It’s his annoying brother. Proceed with caution. This one likes to scratch aggressively and tug at tails and ears.

  Something tells me my mother will enjoy all of the above, far too much.

  Macy stares at Max’s hand as if she didn’t know what to do with it. I bet a part of her wants to smack him with it.

  Macy shakes her head. Maybe I should slap him with it? Maybe I should smack myself with it?

  A small laugh bubbles from me. “Bizzy Baker,” I say as I shake his hand and position the sweet pooch in my arms better so they can see him. “And this is my new friend, Peanut.”

  Mom coos and scratches a finger over his head, and Max is quick to gift him a sturdy pat to the back.

  “You’re a Peanut, all right.” Max chuckles. “Reminds me of one of best friends growing up.”

  “You had dogs?” I ask.

  “No, it was a kid down the street.” He gives a little wink, and suddenly I’m starting to see a stark difference between him and Jasper. “And would you look at this?” He bends over and wrestles playfully a moment with Sherlock. “And if it isn’t my favorite nephew. Hey? What are you doing here?” He gifts Sherlock a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t tell me you’ve been dognapped.” He looks up at me a moment. “Wait a minute.” He straightens as a devious smile comes to his face. “You said your name is Bizzy Baker? You must be the girl at the inn my brother can’t stop talking about.”

  My heart thumps at the thought. My heart seems to race at any thought of Jasper these days, but to think he’s telling his family about me makes something in my spirit soar.

  Max squints over at me. Geez. Jasper wasn’t kidding. She is beautiful. I can tell she gets her looks from this one. He brushes a spontaneous kiss to Mom’s cheek, and something about the action warms me. His mind certainly had the opportunity to wander in the wrong direction and it didn’t. I think that says a lot about him.

  Macy groans again, this time with her shoulders sagging as the reality sinks in.

  “Nice to meet you, Max.” She smacks her lips at our mother. “I definitely need a stiff drink. Or maybe one of those artisan pickles. How about both.” She wanders off just as a girl who holds the same gray eyes and same dark hair as Max strides up with a hand lying protectively over her distended belly.

  “Did I hear you say your name is Bizzy?” She smiles warmly. “I’m Ella Westbrook, Jasper’s sister.”

  “The artist!” My eyes brighten her way. “Jasper told me you were having a showing this month.”

  “I sure am. And I want to invite your entire family to come out. It’s free.” She flicks her fingers at Peanut as if she were hungry to hold him. “Do you mind? I happen to have a soft spot for adorable tiny creatures.”

  Mom and I break out into a warm laugh as I hand Peanut over.

  Bizzy, Peanut practically wails my name in fear. Don’t let her take me away. I’m quite comfortable with Fish and you. He lets out a yelp and Sherlock chuckles to himself.

  He wants me to bite her ankle. Sherlock nuzzles Ella’s hip in a bid for her affection. I’ll do no such thing. She’s got a pup of her own growing in her belly. My precious niece or nephew.

  Mom smiles over at her. “When are you due, Ella?”

  “End of March, beginning of April. I’m rooting for March.”

  They share another laugh, but I’m stunted into silence. My mouth falls open with pure joy as I see my own six-foot-two stack of muscles walking over with a grin breaking out on his face, but before he can make his way over, Mayor Mack Man-Eater Woods is quick to accost him.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here.” Mack presses a hand to her chest as if feigning distress. Mack Woods is never in distress. She causes distress to others—by way of pushing them into a whiskey barrel for example. I would be exhibit A. “There’s a killer on the loose, and I just know a strong, intelligent man such as yourself will quickly apprehend them. I look forward to the public briefing. Maybe we could go for coffee afterwards? I’m sure Bizzy wouldn’t mind if we spent some time together in the Cottage Café?” And I’m sure she won’t mind me helping myself to Jasper as well. She shoots a cutthroat smile my way. But then, you won’t have a say in it. Will you, Bizzy?

  Mack has always been an expert at stealing what’s mine—namely the men I’d like to keep for myself. I’ll admit, a part of me is horrified at the thought of history repeating itself.

  She stalks off in her high-heeled boots that a very shallow part of me admires and bright orange pea coat pulled tightly over her body. At least she’ll be easy to spot in the crowd. And I will definitely be walking the other way.

  Jasper shakes his head, his lips curving right back to a smile. “Bizzy Baker.” He grins as he wraps his arms around me quickly. Jasper leans back and ushers an all too familiar older brunette into our midst, and I recognize her as the woman I ran into once I arrived. “This is one of your newest residents at the inn. Bizzy, I’d like to introduce you to Gwyneth Wilder, my mother.”

  I suck in a quick breath at the sight.

  His mother’s mouth rounds as her body grows visibly rigid. Horror of horrors. It’s the dimwit who tried to decapitate me. God knows what she’ll be capable of with my son. Let’s hope this is nothing more than a flash in the pan—a rebound I think they call it.

  “Mom, meet Bizzy.” Jasper takes a half-step back and I hesitate a moment before extending my hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Gwyneth.” I never said I was above lying. Granted, she’s in a different environment, forced to move into an inn, and dealing with the crowds at the local pumpkin patch. I think I can let one errant comment slide.

  Max steps in with my mother in tow. “And this is the woman I was telling you about. Mom, meet Ree Baker.”

  “Excuse me?” Gwyneth shakes her head. “What woman? The new night manager for the restaurant? Please God, let it be the new manager.” My son cannot be dating this relic from an era gone by.

  “Mom.” Max breaks out into a belly laugh. “This is the love of my life.”

  “Ree Baker?” She winces at the two of us. “Say it isn’t so.”

  Mom gurgles a dark laugh.

  One thing is for sure, Ree Baker isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with anyone.

  “Oh, it’s so, Gwyneth.” Mom curls her lips just shy of a smile. “And Bizzy is my daughter.”

  Kill me.

  Gwyneth looks as green
as a gourd.

  “Bizzy?” someone shouts my name from behind, and I turn to find Nessa running this way. I quickly excuse myself to meet her.

  “What is it?” I ask with Sherlock dancing between us.

  “I have a confession to make.” Her brows are furrowed, her lips quivering with fear.

  “You’re not going to confess to being the killer, are you?” I tease.

  Her lips press tight. “Maybe I am.”

  Chapter 5

  Autumn brings so much with it, an abundance of flaming red leaves, pumpkins dotting the landscape everywhere you look, and pumpkin spice treats that I look forward to all year long. And yet, this autumn brought something unexpected with it—something very much unwanted—murder.

  Just as Nessa was about to fill me in on whatever it was that was stressing her out yesterday at the Haunted Harvest Festival, she caught a glimpse of Jasper and lost her nerve. She let me know in no explicit terms that she would confess everything to me as soon as she got to work tomorrow—which would be today. In fact, Nessa is due to work in just a few minutes.

  The Country Cottage Inn is festooned for fall with silk maple leaf garland lining the counters and entry.

  “What do you think?” Jordy nods for me to admire his handiwork at the entry to the inn.

  Jordy, my best friend Emmie’s brother, is the groundskeeper here at the inn. He shares Emmie’s dark hair and bright blue eyes, and he just so happens to be my ex-husband. It’s a long story not worth telling. We were in Las Vegas, got shnockered off Jim Beam, married, and had the marriage annulled before you could say happily never after. My brother, Huxley, happens to be a divorce attorney and he helped dissolve the brief matrimonial disaster.

  I look up at the fall leaf garland, the spider webs strewn throughout, and the miniature orange twinkle lights and sigh.

  “Jordy!” A laugh tickles my throat. “It’s spectacular—and spooky. It’s spooktacular.”

  “Glad you like it.” He waves me over to the front doors. “Check out the front.”

  Both Sherlock and Peanut follow him as if they were as excited as I am to see it.

  Sherlock twists his neck as if beckoning for me to hurry. Looks good, Bizzy! When can I eat them?

  Peanut gives a playful growl at his new four-legged freckled friend. Eat them and it will be your last day as a greeter at the inn.

  “You got that right,” I whisper with a sly wink their way.

  I step around the marble counter and both Peanut and Sherlock follow along. I usually only have Fish with me out on the prowl when I’m working the reception desk, but both Sherlock and Peanut asked to come along this morning. It was either that or they’d be relegated to Critter Corner in the back. And even though Critter Corner is more of a spa than a daycare, they still prefer it out front where all the action takes place—and to be honest, the guests do, too.

  “Oh, Jordy, I love it,” I say, admiring the thick ropes of maple garland trimming the enormous double door entry both inside and out. Tiny orange twinkle lights are woven throughout it and it gives off a haunted magical appeal. “Who knew you had a decorator’s touch?”

  “Not me—because I don’t have one. Emmie told me to do it. She said she saw it online and she thought it’d be cute.” He says cute as if it were a genuinely foul four-letter word. “I’m spending the rest of the day arranging that load of pumpkins the Montgomerys dropped off. Anything in particular you want me to do with them?”

  “Line the cobbled path that leads to the entry for sure. Then stack some on either side of the doors. Oh, and make sure you put some on the periphery of the steps as you come on in. Of course, the café will need some—and outside of the café.”

  Jordy twitches his brows. “So basically everywhere.” A warm chuckle expels from him. “Isn’t it ironic? Here we were married for less than a day and yet you’re still bossing me around with a honey-do list?”

  A laugh bubbles from me. “That’s because I am your boss.”

  The crisp fall breeze picks up and in walks Camila Ryder, a tall brunette with cut features and a knowing smirk on her face as she greets me with a smile. Her skin looks beautifully bronzed, and her lips are perfectly pouty and pink. Everything about her screams supermodel.

  I bet if she never cheated on Jasper they would still be together. A part of me wonders if now that she’s no longer with Leo Granger, mind reader extraordinaire, if Jasper wants her back. My stomach churns just thinking about it.

  Sherlock moans and threads himself between my knees. It’s her again. It’s that woman. She never shared her food with me, Bizzy. Not one time. Not one piece of bacon.

  I give a secret smile down at the disparaging pup. I happen to be notorious for sneaking him an extra slice of bacon.

  Camila extends a hand my way. “Hello, Bizzy. I’m Jasper’s friend. We met the other night.” Bet she’s thrilled to see me. She lifts a brow as if the thought amused her.

  “Hi, Camila.” I give her ice-cold fingers a shake. “Of course, I remember you.” How could I forget? And friend? I guess she doesn’t like the title of ex-girlfriend. “What can I do for you?”

  Her lips purse, and suddenly it looks as if she’s feigning a pout. “I’m actually ready for that room. The remodel on my kitchen just kicked into high gear and I’ll be out for a month at least. Gwyneth, Jasper’s mother, and I are very close.” Her eyes rake over me as if she wanted that little not-so friendly tidbit to sink in a moment. “She mentioned she was stuck here, too. It’ll be fun to join both her and Jasper—like one long sleepover.” And I will be sleeping with Jasper. She glances down at Sherlock Bones and frowns. Hopeful this beast won’t be anywhere near the bedroom this time.

  Ugh. The things poor Sherlock was subjected to. I’d better give him an entire platter of bacon to make up for it.

  Camila practically snarls at him for no good reason.

  The way a person responds to animals says a lot about him or her, and right now it’s not saying great things about Camila.

  And did she say stuck here? She’s more than welcome to get stuck anywhere between here and Sheffield.

  I nod over to her. “I’m sure we have a room for you. In fact, I’ll get you registered right away.” A thought comes to me. “Camila? The other night you mentioned that you knew Shelby Harris. Was she a colleague of yours?” I happened to know they work in entirely different fields. Shelby lived the lifestyle of the rich and famous, and Camila is a high school guidance counselor.

  She tips her head back and takes a deep breath. “I guess you could say so. We met when she came to the campus I work at. It was part of Career Week. She and her partner shared about their experiences as influencers.” And boy, do I regret ever being there.

  I swallow hard, trying to figure out how to best delicately pull the details from her.

  “She mentioned you were good friends.” I shrug, marveling at how easily the lie slipped from me.

  Her eyes widen with horror. “What else did she say?” God, I’ll never forgive myself for giving in to her ridiculous ideas. Modeling—of all the cheesy ploys I fell for. She averts her eyes.

  I take a quick breath. “She mentioned something about pictures.” I shake my head as if I couldn’t quite recall—because I can’t.

  Camila’s lips round out. “Oh, right. It was stupid. She had a photographer friend who needed someone for something. A quick job and I took it.”

  Jordy steps up, his eyes still glued to Camila’s perfect features. Geez, I didn’t know they made them like this. Holy heck. Where do I sign up?

  Good Lord. At least he kept it G. I’ve accidentally intercepted a lot more colorful thoughts from Jordy where the opposite sex is involved.

  “Camila, this is Jordy,” I say. “He’s our groundskeeper here at the inn.”

  Jordy clears his throat. “This is just an in-between job. I worked in upper management for years. I just needed a break.”

  She voluntarily shakes his hand. “Camila Ryder. I’m a high school c
ounselor over in Sheffield.” My, aren’t you a mighty fine snack. Her smile widens as she examines him. If I weren’t throwing out the bait to net my ex, I’d hop on the Groundskeeper Express.

  Knew it! She is trying to net her ex!

  I practically stop breathing at the thought. Which reminds me…

  “Jordy, pull out those witches’ hats. Those are fun to decorate with, too.” I shoot Camila the side-eye. I’m sure they’ll come in handy with the coven that’s taking up residence at the inn.

  Fish slaps the counter with her long fluffy tail as I arrive at the computer. Bizzy, is that the girl you were telling me about? Camila?

  I nod over at my sweet cat. Having Fish living with me has been like having a best friend or a sister by my side twenty-four seven. And considering the fact that neither my siblings nor best friend knows anything about my ability to pry into other people’s minds, Fish is closer to me than both.

  Let me take a better look at her. Fish tips her head to the side as she examines the girl. Sure she’s pretty, but I can tell she’s cunning, too. I don’t like cunning. It brings out the worst in people.

  Peanut curls up in a ball of cuteness by my feet as I quickly assign Camila to a room.

  “What do you know?” I say. “You’ll be right next door to Gwyneth. A room just opened up. The room won’t be ready for about twenty minutes, so you might want to head to the café out back. It sits right in front of the cove and has sweeping views of the Atlantic.”

  “Perfect.” She types into her phone. “I just asked Gwyn to join me.” She wrinkles her nose my way. “I’m sure once she gets to know you better, she’ll invite you to call her Gwyn. All of her close friends do. Oh, and I spoke to Jasper. He’ll be here in a few minutes. Would you be a love and tell him where to find me?” Her lips curve with a dangerous smile. “It’s so nice that I’ll be practically living with him and Gwyn. They’ve always been like family.” She trots off in the direction of the café and I can’t help but scowl at her.