Country Cottage Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  I blow out a breath. “Any chance of reconciling with Leo?” I don’t know why I felt the need to ask, but a part of me wanted to. Whether I like it or not, Leo Granger is, well, for lack of a better word, special. And I foresee that he will be in my life in some facet for the unforeseeable future.

  Why would she ask about Leo? Of course. That’s what he’s been doing around her, moping. Making me look like the bad guy. Priming her for the kill before he pounces.

  Jasper nods. “I’ll have a talk with him, all right.” His lips pull back. “But I don’t want to talk about Leo. Or the case.” There’s a pleading look in his eyes. “Let me handle this one, Bizzy.” I press my lips tight and offer a meager nod. “Good.” Jasper runs his finger over my cheek. “How about we stroll around the exhibit and check out the nudes?” His brows bounce. “In the name of art.”

  “I’ve always been a big fan of art.”

  Jasper and I do just that.

  And it feels every bit like a real date.

  Of course, I’ll let him handle the case—as soon as I have a little talk with Scout Pratt.

  Chapter 9

  “You’ve almost got it.” Emmie gives an apprehensive smile as we stare down at the batch of botched pumpkin mini muffins I tried so desperately to bake.

  “No, I haven’t,” I say, chucking the charred treats straight into the trash. “They were burnt and undercooked.”

  Emmie laughs as she pulls me into a tight embrace. “Now that takes a talent. See? You do have talent in the kitchen.”

  “You’re very funny,” I say just as I notice a couple of familiar faces stepping up to the counter at the Cottage Café. “My mother and Georgie are here. And I’m pretty sure they won’t want anything I dared to put in an oven.”

  We head up front to where the café is bustling. Just past the patio I can see a bevy of storm clouds on the horizon. The ocean looks dark and angry with navy swells and white caps peppered throughout.

  “What can I help you with, ladies?” I ask as they belly up to the register.

  Mom looks chic in her bright orange sweater, a black and white checkered collar peeking out from underneath that spikes up to her ears. But her eyes are red with dark rings beneath them and she’s pale in general.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She waves it off. “I just need caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine. Coffee. Black for me. And throw on a few of those mini muffins. Lord knows I could use some sugar to wake me up, too.”

  Georgie growls out a laugh. “Your mama had an all-nighter.”

  Mom is quick to swat her. “Is nothing sacred with you?” Mom shakes her head, her eyes struggling to stay open. “I did not have an all-nighter. Max drove me home and stayed for a drink.” She scowls at Georgie. “And that, my friend, is how you say it.”

  “Eww?” I shrug at the thought. “What can I get for you, Georgie?”

  “The usual. Bacon and eggs over greasy.” She gives a greasy wink to match. “Two slices of garlic buttered sourdough—oh, and throw on some biscuits and gravy. And what the heck—load me up with some of those mini muffins as well. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me today. I’m all done tracing out my mural. It’s time to get glass to concrete.” She slaps her hands together and rubs them raw, looking every bit eager—and slightly deranged in the process.

  Mom scoffs. “With that meal you’ll get things going, all right. I hope the city provided a nice, cushy toilet for you with some decent pluming.”

  Georgie waves her off. “The park is just down the street, and while I’m there I get to feed the pigeons, play with the stray cats, and rummage through all those overgrown dumpsters looking for more glass bottles.”

  Mom closes her eyes like she might be sick. “Sounds like you’re living the dream.”

  “Well, I’m so happy for you, Georgie,” I say with a sigh. “I just love seeing you shine.”

  Georgie is quick to slap Mom on the shoulder. “Your mother was shining, too. Right up until three in the morning.”

  “Three?” Emmie squeals it out for me. “No wonder you look like death.” She winces. “No offense.”

  Mom lifts a finger. “No offense taken. I’ve never been put off by the truth. I might be put off by another three in the morning tryst. I really need to build my stamina.”

  They take off for a booth near the window just as a handsome homicide detective strides on in with his happy-go-lucky pooch by his side.

  Emmie leans my way. “I’ll get the orders together and take over the register.” She gives a sly wink before walking to the kitchen.

  “Detective”—I bat my lashes at him playfully—“Sherlock. A big breakfast for you both this morning?”

  Jasper looks alarmingly handsome with his hair still glossy from the shower, a black wool coat and jeans. Several of the female customers crane their necks to get a better look at him and I can’t blame them. At the moment I’m doing the same.

  “Morning, Bizzy.” Jasper’s eyes are bright as the sun. “Just coffee for me.”

  And bacon! Sherlock jumps in an effort to see me better. Bacon, please! Bacon, bacon!

  It takes me less than a minute to get both their orders together.

  Jasper nods to the patio. “Would you have a minute to head out for a short walk?”

  “For you, I’d carve out all day.” I grab my coat and we head out to the briny chilled air. The cove itself curves up against the sandy shores of the inn as if it were giving it a hug. To the left, there’s an embankment of boulders, and just beyond that the woods butt right up against the sea. Water might be one of my biggest phobias, but I’m fine with it as long as I’m not in it.

  Jasper and I walk out past the cobbled path and head straight into the sand. Fish bounds over and leaps in Sherlock’s path, inspiring Jasper to unleash him so the happy pooch can give proper chase.

  “And there they go,” he says, taking up my hand and landing a soft kiss to my lips. His lids are heavy and there’s a slight lazy grin he’s slow to part with. “I think we should look into carving out some alone time ourselves.”

  “We should. Rumor has it, you get a little wild yourself when let off your leash.”

  A naughty laugh gurgles from his chest. “That’s one rumor you should put to the test yourself.”

  “How does tonight look?”

  “I’ll be working late. I’ve got a meeting with the forensics team in a couple of hours and I still have a mound of paperwork on each of the suspects.”

  “Suspects? Who are you looking at?”

  His chest expands. “Bizzy.” He winces. “Who are you looking at?” He takes a careful sip of his coffee, those silver eyes never leaving mine.

  A laugh bubbles from me. “Okay, fine. I’ll give. I don’t have any single hard suspect because they’re all hard suspects. Jasper, I’ve never seen so many people who could have easily done this. Is that how most of your investigations work?”

  “No, and I’m glad about it. I’ve had a few cases where it could have been plausible that more than one person pulled the trigger. But, in the end, the evidence always winnows it down to the killer.”

  “Well, I have to say I’m envious of your exciting job. You must love getting up to go to work in the morning. I mean, it has to be rewarding to put away a killer.”

  He grins wide for a moment. “It is. But it’s tough. You’re dealing with a victim—a family who cared about them very much. Believe me when I say this. I envy you, Bizzy. Look at this place.” He nods toward the waterline. “You have this majesty right outside your back door. The Country Cottage Inn is a virtual paradise. I may never leave.”

  My stomach squeezes tight because, in all honesty, I never thought of Jasper leaving, and the idea sends a thin rail of panic in me.

  “Well, I’m thrilled to hear you like it here so much.”

  Fish and Sherlock zoom past us in the opposite direction. Fish is scampering and hopping like a bunny, and Sherlock is bounding like a greyhound at the track
.

  “So lay out your suspects, Bizzy. Let’s see where you are.” He gives my hand a quick squeeze.

  “There’s Chelsea,” I volunteer. “She said Shelby did something to her, but she wouldn’t say what. She mentioned that Shelby swore her to secrecy while she was alive, and now that she’s dead, she’s afraid if she tells anyone people will think that not only is she trying to save face, but that it would somehow tarnish Shelby’s reputation.”

  “That’s cryptic.” Jasper’s gaze darts out to the horizon. “I think I need to dig and find out exactly what that could be. Sounds like it has the potential to be a strong motive for murder.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, she assured me she didn’t do it. She did point me toward Carter O’Riley. She basically accused him of being obsessed with Shelby. And from what I gathered last night, that might be the case.”

  “Did he say anything to implicate himself?”

  “Nope. But he did cast suspicion on Scout Pratt. He mentioned that whole fiasco with the Mason jars wasn’t all there was to that hazing incident Shelby and Chelsea put her through. He said there was a darker layer to the story. I’m anxious to find out what that could be.”

  Jasper catches my gaze as we head down to where the sand is damp and easier to walk on.

  “Believe me, Bizzy. I will find out and I will tell you in an effort to curb your curiosity. No need to investigate further.”

  “Well, I wasn’t investigating.” Was I? “I mean—it wasn’t my fault they were simply spilling all they knew. It was just a little friendly chitchat.”

  Jasper lifts his chin, and that look on his face lets me know he’s not buying it.

  “Fine.” I say, kicking up a little sand. “I may have been investigating, but only because it happened right here at the inn. Anything that concerns the inn concerns me. So where were we?”

  “Carter.”

  “Ah, yes. Anything on him?”

  “Did you know he dated Nessa briefly and that’s how he met Shelby?”

  My mouth falls open. “No, I didn’t know that. Although, that would explain why he said he was calling out the cavalry to help get Nessa free. Maybe he still has feelings for her?” Okay, so Carter didn’t come right out and say it, but for the sake of Jasper’s sanity, we’ll say he did.

  Jasper’s brows hike. “She does have a good defense team lined up. That’s very nice of him.”

  “That is nice. He obviously believes in her innocence. And aside from pointing the finger at Scout, Carter did talk a little about Luke. He said something about Luke being an auto mechanic when he met Shelby, and now he’s running a finance department at her father’s firm. I thought that was a bit drastic. No real motive for murder.”

  The night of the slaying flits through my mind. “Wait a minute. I distinctly remember Luke wanting to speak with Shelby, and she was openly giving him the cold shoulder. I think Chelsea mentioned they had just broken up that night. Maybe he killed her because of it?”

  “I don’t know. But I do need to speak with him further about his relationship with her. He might have had the motive to do it, but motives don’t always lead to murder, so you can see where things like forensics come into play.”

  “Any word on Nessa’s gun?” I’m almost sorry I asked. I can’t prove that Nessa didn’t kill Shelby, but I’d stake my life on it.

  “That’s exactly what the meeting is about this afternoon.” Jasper’s mood suddenly sours. “I hope you’ll be at peace with whatever we come up with.”

  “Just because Nessa’s gun was used doesn’t mean she’s the killer.”

  “It doesn’t mean she isn’t.”

  I pause for a moment.

  “Have it your way, Detective. But I’ll bet you Nessa Crosby had nothing to do with it.”

  “A bet?”

  I offer a confident nod. “Name it. I’ll win.”

  “How about loser has to have the winner over for takeout?”

  “That’s destined to happen anyways.” I rock my shoulder to his.

  “Then it sounds like a win-win situation.”

  I pull him in and a laugh tickles my throat. “It will be. For me.” I glance back toward the café and spot my mother and Georgie getting up to leave. “Can you believe my mother and your brother? He’s the reason she’s so exhausted, by the way.”

  “What can I say—Wilder men have very good taste in women.” He pulls back with a mischievous look in his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “All right. I’ll tell you, but if word gets around, I’ll deny I ever said it.”

  I give his ribs a quick pinch and he bucks with a laugh.

  “I give.” He holds up a hand briefly. “I might have another brother who is a bit exhausted today because he spent last night at the hands of a Baker woman.”

  My eyes widen in horror as I quickly do the Baker woman math and gasp.

  Jasper lands a finger to my lips and shakes his head. “It’s okay. He was more than a willing participant.”

  “But—”

  Jasper lands a heated kiss right over my lips, and it warms me from the inside out.

  Something tells me I’ve already won with Jasper.

  All I have to do now is clear Nessa’s name.

  And I’m about to spend the rest of my day doing exactly that.

  Right after I hunt down that wily Baker woman.

  Chapter 10

  The sun breaks out through the cloud cover, shining all of its autumn glory over the Haunted Harvest Festival fairgrounds—and the Montgomerys have their farm set up in exactly that way.

  This week’s newest addition is a series of tents where local businesses and crafters showcase their wares. And it just so happens to be where I was able to track down a certain quasi-celebrity author and her underling—Ginger King and Scout Pratt.

  And knowing that Ginger would be here is the exact reason I decided to bring Peanut along. The tiny black and white puppy leaps and skips with unmitigated joy as he takes in the farm. Okay, so maybe I didn’t exactly tell him we would be bumping into Ginger, but he doesn’t have to worry regardless. There’s no way I’m letting anything happen to him—and he is definitely coming home with me.

  I could live here, Bizzy. I love the great outdoors. There’s nothing like a little sunshine on my back to make me feel young again.

  A tiny laugh bumps through me. “Peanut, you are a puppy,” I say, giving his leash a playful tug.

  I haven’t just brought Peanut along for the ride, I brought my wild-for-the-Wilders sister along as well.

  Macy and I hit the hot apple cider booth before we head toward the craft booths and I take a careful sip of my cider before examining my spicy sister. Her blonde hair is stick straight, hitched back behind her ears, and she and I have inadvertently donned matching yellow and black flannels, worn jeans, and cute little suede booties. She’s already pointed out that we’re double the trouble, double the fun.

  “How could you sleep with Dalton?” I ask and watch with a smidge of delight as she chokes and gags on her very next sip.

  Her eyes widen. “Just cut to the bone, why don’t you.”

  “That’s the only way to do things with you, and we both know it.” True as gospel.

  “Calm down, Grandma Bizzy. It was no big deal.” Macy makes a face as she stirs the drink in her hand with a cinnamon stick.

  “Excuse me? Staying the night is a very big deal. He’s going to think you’re easy.”

  “I am easy.” She inches back. “Have you met me?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “And before you go spreading rumors to Mom, it wasn’t Dalton. And he didn’t spend the night. It was Jamison, and I slapped him silly until he limped out of my place around three a.m.”

  My mouth falls open. “So you chose the attorney? And what is it with you and Mom at three a.m.? It’s like the witching hour with the two of you.”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out. And when are you and Jasper going to
lock yourselves in a room until three in the morning? You’re falling woefully behind. Time’s a tickin’.”

  My cheeks burn with heat at the thought.

  “I don’t know.” I scowl out at the burgeoning crowd. “I told him to talk it out with his ex before we took things further. We’re not even in a real commitment yet.”

  Macy scoffs. “So what? I’m definitely not in a real commitment.” Her phone chirps and she laughs like a woodpecker as she reads the text. “Jamison is coming by tonight at eight. He’s got a long day at the office, but he’s bringing takeout.” She sings that last bit.

  “Takeout?” I give a wistful shake of the head. “Rumor has it, sharing late night Chinese is the road to a solid commitment. You’re moving awful fast, you know.”

  “That’s because I haven’t done anything stupid like asking him to hash things out with his ex. Maybe you really do need a copy of Ginger King’s book on how to snag a man. Did you take notes during that seminar? Mom and I were riveted students and we’ve already netted a Wilder apiece.”

  “To be fair, she had one in the hand going in. And please refrain from joking about what she might be holding. I can only take so much.”

  We come upon the craft booths that sit under a massive tent with a sign up above that reads Happy Falloween! and I quickly spot a small crowd around Ginger. Scout isn’t anywhere to be seen at the moment, but Nessa assured me they were both here. It was Nessa whom I enlisted to help track them down. Of course, I didn’t mention that it was her hide I was looking to save.

  I pick up Peanut, and once he spots Ginger, his entire body goes rigid.

  No, Bizzy, no! I’ll do anything not to go with her again. I promise I’ll stop nipping at Sherlock’s tail. I’ll even stop sneaking bites of Fish’s Fancy Beast cat food. Just let me live, Bizzy. Let me live!

  I tuck a quick kiss between his ears. “I promise that no matter what happens, you’re coming right back home with me today. You were her link to Shelby. You might elicit some incriminating thoughts. I just want to see how she’ll respond to you.”