Country Cottage Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  “I do,” I say. “In fact, she’s staying—”

  “Right here.” Camila herself pops into our midst. “Jasper, that picture Ella did of us is on display in the ballroom.” She bites down on a devious crimson smile as her gaze slants my way a moment. “You must come and see it with me.” She takes him by the hand and Ella is quick to navigate them in that direction.

  “Bizzy?” he calls out for me.

  “I’ll be right there,” I say.

  Maybe. Most likely not.

  I make a face at the polished looking crowd. Everyone looks as if they were shipped in from upper Manhattan—and here I’m wearing my jeans and my favorite ruby red pea coat. Granted. I’ve donned my thigh-high black suede boots, which are borderline edgy and one hundred percent sexy, but a part of me still thinks I should have vetted my wardrobe choices a bit more.

  A familiar face waves to me from deeper into the room, and I’m more than relieved to see Macy standing there with a fruity looking cocktail in hand so I speed over to her.

  “See anything you like?” I ask as we take in the crowd. The paintings themselves are all tucked away in offshoot to the main hall, so I haven’t had the chance to ogle one just yet.

  Macy gurgles with a dark laugh. “I see everything I like. Who knew Jasper’s sister specialized in kink?”

  “In what?” My entire body grows rigid as I struggle to cast my eyes on a single oversized canvas.

  “Nudes.” Macy practically hisses the words, “As in naked dudes and chicks.”

  “No kidding?” A horrible thought hits me. “Oh my God. I’m going to faint or vomit.”

  Macy clicks her tongue at me. “Who knew my baby sis would grow up to be such a prude?”

  “Trust me, Macy. I’m no prude. Jasper’s ex just dragged him off to look at a painting that Ella did of the two of them.”

  “Eww.” Macy looks as if she could puke, too, if she wanted. “Never mind that”—she shudders—“let’s focus on something far more important. Me.” She blinks a hot pink smile. “Guess what?”

  “I’m afraid to ask.” As of late, there have been an awful lot of surprises. But it will take a lot to top a nude picture of Jasper and Camila.

  “That group of hunky hotties who were at Ginger’s seminar the other night? They’re here in number. And they are all single and ready to mingle.”

  “What hunky hotties?” I suck in a quick breath as it comes to me. “Carter O’Riley and his testosterone squad?”

  “Yup.” Macy rocks back on her heels, licking her lips as if she were about to take a bite out of some serious beefcake. “And you can bet your mini muffins I’m taking one home with me.”

  I’m quick to swat her. “No, you’re not. You don’t even know their names. Don’t take anybody home. Or I might be moved to kill you.”

  Macy glowers at something just beyond me. “Rumor has it, our mother has been taking home a certain someone.”

  I suck in another sharp breath. At this rate, I’m liable to inhale every canvas in this place before the night is through. Although, if that’s what it takes to keep me from seeing Jasper and Camila’s nude review, then I might be all for it.

  I turn to find Mom laughing and having a wonderful time with Max Wilder strapped to her side.

  “They look so cute together,” I muse. Mom looks elegant in a simple black dress and Max has donned a dark suit—looking eerily like Jasper’s twin in the process. “My God, that’s not Jasper, is it?” I’m only half-kidding. It’s a mind-bender of another dimension when your own mother is getting hot and heavy with a look-alike of the man you’re hoping to get hot and heavy with yourself. I’m sure there’s a special place in a psychiatrist’s office for people like me.

  “Let’s find out if it’s your man.” Macy threads her arm through mine and speeds us over.

  Mom’s eyes widen a moment. “Hello, girls. Isn’t this wonderful?” She lifts the champagne flute a notch and her arm flails as if she were slightly tipsy—and I’m betting she is. My mother is notoriously bad at holding her liquor.

  We exchange polite hellos and Max—who looks suspiciously a heck of a lot more like Jasper tonight than he did the other day—leans in.

  “Have the two of you met the rest of the family?”

  “I’ve met your mother,” I volunteer, and for reasons that escape me, it comes out with a little laugh.

  Macy nods. “And we’ve met your sister.”

  Max lifts a brow to Macy. “Your mother says you’re anxious to meet my brothers.”

  A low, level growl emits from her. “Say goodbye to my mother, Max. Tonight, she dies a slow and painful death.”

  His brows twitch the exact way Jasper’s are prone to do. “If you promise to spare her life, I’ll introduce you to the two of them tonight.”

  Macy perks to life. “Mommy, have I mentioned how much I love your new boyfriend? He’s so charming and sweet, and I bet he has exquisite taste in siblings.”

  We share a warm laugh at my sister’s lunacy.

  No sooner does Max propose the scenario than he plucks two more Jasper look-alikes from the crowd.

  “Bizzy, Macy—this is my brother, Dalton.” He points to the one whose hair has a touch more auburn to it, but the same warm smile, same stunning gray eyes. “Dalton is the head football coach at Ward University.”

  Macy’s lips twitch with delight as she extends a hand his way. “What a coincidence. Both my sister and I went to Ward. Home run,” she says, indulging in a hearty shake.

  I lean in and whisper, “I think you mean touchdown.”

  Macy wrinkles her nose. “Oh, he’ll get that out of me, too.”

  Dalton belts out a laugh. That’s what I’m counting on, sweetheart.

  Mom and I exchange a look but for entirely different reasons.

  “And this”—Max pulls the darker-haired Jasper look-alike forward, only his eyes are blue through and through—“is Jamison. Attorney at law. Need to sue? See this guy right here.” He leans in. “Need to win? Maybe see your brother.”

  And I’m only partly teasing. Max slaps his brother on the back.

  A small laugh titters in our circle.

  Jamison offers us both a friendly shake. “Nice to meet you both.” He gives a wistful shake of the head my way. “Bizzy, you’ve stolen my brother’s sanity. Maybe the Wilders should look into suing you.”

  Another round of riotous laughter breaks out.

  Jamison’s eyes linger over me for a moment. Jasper always was the smart one. If he loses this one, I might have to sue him for stupidity.

  I offer a polite nod his way. I think I just found my favorite brother.

  And soon enough, my sister pulls both Dalton and Jamison to the side. If I’m not mistaken, it looks as if she’s conducting some sort of thorough interview with the two of them.

  Figures.

  My sister has always been one to cut right to the chase. Macy wants to snag herself a Wilder brother, and there are very few things in life that my sister goes after and doesn’t come away the victor.

  Mom and Max lean in, getting all moony-eyed and whispering things that illicit a very dirty grin in each of them, and my feet can’t carry me away fast enough.

  Good grief.

  If I had known Jasper was going to ditch me for his ex, I would have stayed home.

  A pair of arms wraps themselves around my waist, and I turn to find Jasper Wilder offering up a sheepish grin.

  “I see you met my brothers. I’m sorry. I was on my way over and my mother waylaid me.”

  Why do I get the feeling Camila and Gwyneth are working in tandem to keep us apart?

  Jasper winces. I shouldn’t have said that. She’s going to think my mother is rooting for Camila. He frowns just past me. She might be, but I’ll be the last to tell Bizzy.

  My mouth falls open. But before I can wrap my brain around his brutal honesty, I spot an all too familiar ex-boyfriend who happened to belong to Shelby Harris at one time.

  “Jasper,
look,” I whisper. “Carter is here. He’s the suspect you were hinting at, isn’t he?”

  A dark laugh brews in his chest as he turns to see him. “That’s what I like about you, Bizzy. There is no mystery too small that you won’t solve. Yes, that’s the suspect du jour for the evening. But I don’t want either of us to press him.”

  “What? Jasper, this is the perfect opportunity to do so. He’s all but ours for the taking.”

  He frowns in that direction. “Have you seen my sister’s work yet?”

  “Her work?” I glance around suspiciously. “No, but I’m sure every piece is lovely. Let’s go.” I try to wrangle him in that direction, but he pivots us into an enclave instead.

  “Wow.” I press my face to his shoulder a moment. “Jasper, they’re all naked.”

  “That they are.”

  I slowly pry my lids open. “And they’re so—very lifelike.”

  “And that they are, too.”

  “Jasper, you said she painted you and Camila.” A horrible groan comes from me without meaning to. “I refuse to see that. Please tell me you didn’t pose for a sitting.”

  “No.” A set of comma-like dimples appears on either side of his mouth. “And—well, I think the painting should speak for itself.”

  He navigates us over to the next installment space.

  “I can’t look,” I wail, trying my best to walk with my eyes closed.

  “I promise you will not have a problem with it.”

  “That’s what you think. And by the way, I’m beginning to wonder about how you think.”

  He pulls me close and his chest bounces against my side. “Open.”

  My lids flutter slowly and, sure enough, we’re standing in front of an oversized canvas that takes up nearly the entire wall. It’s a dark landscape—a little hard to make out. It looks like headstones and a hillside along with a charred tree of some sort.

  “Jasper, is this a scene from a cemetery?”

  He nods as he stares out at it.

  I squint at it. “And are those a couple of bats in the tree?”

  “That would be correct.”

  I take in the picture in its totality, and it looks straight from the scene of some Halloween nightmare with ghosts and pumpkins and even a hand coming up out of a grave.

  “Wait a minute,” I say. “You’re the bats?”

  “We’re the bats.” He leans in. “If you look closely, you’ll see Camila has horns and a tail.”

  My fingers float to my lips to keep from laughing. “Oh, Jasper. Why do I get the feeling Ella isn’t Camila’s biggest fan?”

  “Because you’re intuitive.” He pulls me in tight and a naughty grin slides up one side of his face once again. “I’m sure Camila wanted you to think the worst. And perhaps her intentions are to land us back together. But I promise, there is nothing anyone can do to take me away from you.”

  The sound of heels clacking this way erupts just as his mother appears at the entry to the alcove.

  “Jasper?” Gwyneth’s dark hair is pulled back, she’s clad in black, save for the caustic shade of red lipstick, and she happens to sneer when she sees us locked in an embrace. “Hello, Bizzy.” Her expression falls flat. “Jasper, your sister needs help unloading a few items from her car. She brought trinkets for the guests. Apparently, there are several of them. Your brothers suggested I find you.”

  Jasper’s chest expands. “I’ll be right back.”

  “And I’ll”—I point back to the haunted painting—“be hanging out with the lovebirds.”

  He offers a quick peck to my cheek before taking off with his mother.

  And that’s my cue. I tiptoe to the front of the alcove, happy to see he’s already out of sight. I spot Carter right away in the crowd over by the refreshment table where an entire throng of men is capitalizing off both the moment and their hormones as they speak to a gaggle of girls. He’s dressed in a suit, although he looks as if he’s uncomfortable in his own skin at the moment and I wonder if it’s because he’s grieving.

  Figures. Carter probably has his men stalking all sorts of intellectual events where hot, young women are prone to congregate. He’s a predator. But at the moment he’s all by his lonesome, so I step on over before the window closes on my Jasper-free moment.

  “Carter,” I say breathless as I step in his path before he launches in another direction. “I think we met at that”—I wince—“Ginger’s talk on how to catch a man.”

  “Oh.” Any trace of a smile quickly evaporates from his face. “At the mixer.”

  “Yes. I’m actually the manager of the Country Cottage Inn, so I make it a point to recognize guests. You were there with your men that night.” I give a little shrug.

  Carter closes his eyes a moment as if reliving it. “That was a nightmare. I’m sorry. Not the mixer—but, well—you know.”

  “Yes, I do know.” I step in. “Were you close to Shelby?” I’m not letting him see all of my cards. I’ll leave it to him to tell me.

  “Close? We were engaged at one point. She was my everything.” His jaw clenches. “She still is.”

  Still is?

  He obviously has very strong feelings for her.

  “I’m sorry. Can I ask what went wrong?” I shrug a little. “I mean, sometimes it helps to talk about it. And you look pretty upset.”

  “I am upset, and I don’t mind. In fact, Shelby has always been my world. The reason we spilt had to do with commitment. I kept pushing back the wedding date and she called my bluff. And by the time she walked out of my life, I couldn’t have wanted her more. I would have done anything to keep her in it, and now it’s too late.”

  “I’m sorry. That must be terribly painful.” I study him a moment. “What did you think of this new guy she was seeing?”

  “Luke?” he says his name like it was a four-letter word of another color. “The guy is a joke. He’s some auto mechanic she met when her car was in the shop, and the next thing you know he’s wearing a suit, running the new loan department of Harris Financial.”

  “Really?” I blink back. “He must have been qualified. I mean, they wouldn’t just put someone in charge like that without any background in finance, would they?”

  “You have no idea the pull Shelby had with her father. She could have plugged anyone she wanted into any part of that firm. And she did. And do you know why she did it? Revenge. She went out and found the first guy she could once she broke things off with me because she knew it would infuriate me. She was right.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. His demeanor shifts from pained to full of a percolating rage. “I’m sorry she’s gone.” But at least now he can’t have her. He never deserved her in the first place.

  I press my hand to my chest as I take a step back. Chelsea mentioned he was obsessed. Maybe Carter killed her because she was with Luke?

  “Carter, do you know Nessa Crosby? She works at the inn.”

  “Nessa?” He looks momentarily startled. “Yes, of course, I know Nessa. I was with Shelby before things went south between the two of them.” His chest expands and he inspects me. “We used to be good friends.”

  I wonder if she’s got news on Nessa’s arrest? It should have happened by now. Of course, with the bumbling Seaview Sheriff’s Department botching the investigation it could take a decade.

  He postures toward me. “Why do you ask about Nessa?”

  “Just wondering.” My shoulders hike a notch. “She knew Shelby as well. She’s pretty upset.”

  My God, does Carter think Nessa did it?

  My eyes widen with my next thought. Or did Carter steal the gun and kill Shelby, hoping to frame Nessa with the crime?

  Carter nods as if he were putting the pieces together. “I’ll stop by some time and see how she’s doing. I really do care about Nessa.” And that’s exactly why I’ll be working hard on her defense. As soon as they slap those cuffs on her, I’m sending in the cavalry.

  What in the heck? I shake my head at him without meaning to.

/>   I bear hard into his eyes, trying to pull something else out of him.

  He’s so close to confessing. That is, if he did this.

  “I’ll tell her to expect you,” I say. “So, who do you think did this?”

  He glances away a moment as if he were considering his options. I’m not implicating Nessa. There’s no point. She’s too close. They work together. She’ll want to see the best in her.

  Carter takes a deep breath. “Scout had a pretty clear vendetta against her.”

  “I heard. Nessa told me about their rivalry. But would she kill over something like that?”

  He swills the glass in his hand and the brown liquid nearly sloshes right out.

  “Scout would kill. There was a little more to the story than just a few extra fans showing for an event. Yes, Shelby and Chelsea effectively chased her out of the influencer game, but it went a little darker than that.” He leans in, his evergreen eyes bearing hard into mine. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” He pulls a tight smile. “It was nice seeing you.”

  I watch as he melts into the crowd.

  Jasper reappears. His dark brows form a near uniform line across his forehead and it looks strangely sexy.

  “Bizzy Baker.” He steps in front of me and rocks back on his heels. “You cashed in on that moment of solitude, didn’t you?”

  My teeth graze my lower lip. “Are you accusing me of nefarious behavior, Detective?”

  His cheek rises on one side. “Only because I know you’re capable of it.”

  Jasper pulls me in by the waist and I give his tie a gentle tug.

  A dark laugh brews in my chest. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Camila runs through my mind. “On second thought, maybe have that conversation with your ex first. She’s gunning for you hard, Jasper. And something tells me she won’t stop anytime soon.”

  He glowers out at the crowd.

  She’s right. If she knew what just happened in the parking lot, she wouldn’t feel so generous toward Camila. But then, Bizzy is a good person. She just might despite the fact.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll schedule a sit-down—at the inn. Nothing intimate. I’ll let her know that I’ve moved on and that I don’t want any more waves. And, I’ll hear her out.”