Country Cottage Mysteries Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  “Don’t worry about me, Bizzy. I’ve cut a proverbial throat or two. Besides, I do some of my best work this time of year.”

  We share a warm laugh as she excuses herself to peruse the offerings.

  I head back out into the main hall and spot a woman with a long blonde ponytail and lashes the size of that evergreen back in the ballroom.

  “Trixie! I’m so glad you could make it. I just ran into Julia in there. It’s her last night. She’s leaving town right after this.”

  “Leaving town?” She smirks. “I suppose she got a piece of the Lincoln liar pie, too.”

  “I don’t think so. She didn’t mention it.”

  “Please, Bizzy.” She takes a moment to fan her ponytail over her shoulder. “It’s always the quiet ones you need to look out for.” She takes off, but her words resonate in my mind.

  Julia is definitely a quiet one, but only because she’s sane and stable. She worked at a B&B once, for Pete’s sake. We’re in the same line of work, or at least we were. It’s no wonder I’ve taken such an instant liking to her.

  What did she say the name of that B&B was? I forgot to ask her why she left in the first place. Although I could probably come up with a dozen reasons off the top of my head. Dealing with the general public isn’t always easy.

  I think back on it. East West Inn? No, that’s not right. West River Inn? Oak Falls B&B! That’s what it is.

  I pull out my phone and do a quick search of it. I can’t help but feel a little competitive with other inns and bed and breakfasts. In my mind, there is no other place quite like this one.

  A bevy of articles pops up regarding the Oak Falls B&B, and I glance at all the headlines in horror.

  What? I shake my head at the phone.

  A million thoughts crash through my mind all at once.

  “Nessa?” I say as I speed over to the counter and snatch up my purse. “I’m going to step out for just a second. I left an old box of books in the back of my car.”

  Sherlock perks right up and shakes out his fur as if he were coming out of hibernation.

  I’m going with you, Bizzy.

  Fish yowls, I’m not. I hate snow. It’s cold and it makes my paws glide out from under me. Don’t fall, Bizzy. I hear they put the cone of shame on people, too.

  Nessa comes around the counter as if she were chasing me. “And you need those books now?”

  “Yes, I do! I’m parked right outside,” I shout as I run out the door and into the snow that’s coming down in a flurry. Usually, I leave my car in the driveway of my cottage, but tonight I was hauling over a few things for the auction and I happened to park in the lot just a few rows over to the left. This should only take a second.

  It’s so cold out.

  Snowflakes fall over my bare shoulders, and each one feels like the bite of a flame.

  I make a beeline for the trunk of my sedan and quickly pop it open. There’s a streetlamp up above, and it exposes that box full of books as if they were sitting in the afternoon sun.

  I pick up the one on top, The Necrotic Botanist, and begin flipping pages.

  Something Calvin said comes back to me. He said the killer was smart to do this during a season with so many diversions.

  Julia’s words rush at me in a flurry. “Don’t worry about me, Bizzy. I’ve cut a proverbial throat or two. Besides, I do some of my best work this time of year.”

  I stumble upon a dog-eared page in the book I’m holding and bring it close to read the chapter heading.

  Oleander, the Deadliest Bush of Them All.

  And just like that, I know who killed Lincoln Brooks.

  Chapter 18

  “Bizzy?”

  I glance up to see Julia Hart with her arms loaded with a basket of jams and jellies. I’m sure Mary Beth won’t be too happy about not winning that auction. But then, she might be a little more upset if she knew the seemingly sweet girl before me is trying to set her up for a murder wrap. That is, if I’m right.

  Lincoln Brooks had a lot of money, and nobody knows where it went.

  And the one that was in charge of Lincoln Brooks’ affairs just so happens to be leaving town.

  Sherlock moans as his antlers blink on and off like a seizure. I don’t like this, Bizzy. Let’s get back inside.

  “Julia.” I close the book and glide it behind my back as I drop it into the trunk.

  Her eyes trace my every move as she steps in close. “What do you have there?” She cranes her neck a bit. “Oh, a book.” She gives a little laugh until she sees it for what it is and clears her throat. “This basket is getting heavy. I slipped the girl a wad of cash and she let me take it early.” I knew I wanted this basket of glorified sugar as soon as I saw Mary Beth circling around it.

  “That was good thinking.” I have a feeling Julia is very crafty when it comes to getting what she wants. “Here, let me help you,” I say as I shut my trunk, taking the heavy basket from her. “Wow, this weighs as much as a refrigerator.”

  A dull laugh strums from her. “Funny you should say that. It will be my pantry for the next week as I drive down to South Carolina.”

  That older gentleman she’s headed off to work for bounces through my mind, and my heart seizes when I think of what might come of him.

  “My car is right there.” She points to a dark hatchback parked in a secluded area of the lot. “I’ll pop the trunk.”

  “So, Julia, please tell me the name of the town you’re headed off to. I have an aunt in Charleston I visit each January, and I would love to grab lunch with you if I can.”

  I don’t have an aunt in Charleston, but I’m not sure the truth matters anymore in our short-lived friendship. I have a feeling it was all built on lies.

  She glances my way as she pops the trunk. “You want to know the name of the town?” She reaches over and takes the basket from me before setting it down with a thud. “So you could visit?” She pulls something out from the back of the trunk, and before I know it, I’m staring at the barrel of a gun. “Or is it so you can rat me out to that ridiculous boyfriend of yours?”

  Sherlock lets out a sharp bark. Nobody calls Jasper ridiculous but me. Now let’s get inside, Bizzy. My paws are beginning to freeze.

  My hands slowly rise despite the fact she didn’t instruct me to do it.

  Bizzy? Sherlock growls. What’s happening? Why does she have the no-no that Jasper keeps out of my reach?

  That no-no happens to look just like the Glock Jasper carries.

  “Julia, you don’t have to do this. I’ll go back to the inn, and you can drive away.”

  A dull laugh expels from her. “Right. So you can make a few calls and the sheriff’s department can intercept me? I don’t think so. I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me.” She gives a little shrug as she raises the gun up a notch as if sharpening her aim. “But, of course, I can’t take you alive. I find it much easier dealing with bodies.” A tight smile rubber bands across her face. “Try not to muck up my basket of jams and jellies with your blood.” It looks as if I’ll be switching cars and identities sooner than I thought.

  “You killed Lincoln.” The words pant from me in a white frozen plume.

  A killer? Sherlock gives a sharp bark.

  “Shut up or I’ll kill you first,” she bleats his way.

  A dull huff comes from me. “And you set up Mary Beth and Dexter because they were easy suspects. You used their oleander bushes and the antifreeze from Dexter’s garage.”

  A sharp laugh belts from her. “Don’t forget our dear friend Trixie. She had a motive, too. She was the one I was initially going to put all of my energy in, but once I found out about the affair Mary Beth and Lincoln were having, I thought, why not take down a marriage in the process?”

  “And a family.”

  “They weren’t a good one,” she shoots back.

  “That’s not for you to decide, Julia. I did a little digging on the Oak Falls B&B. You killed your boss. You poisoned that poor man, too, didn’t you?
And you made sure to do it during everyone’s favorite time of year because most people are too busy to notice a well-orchestrated murder. I see you framed his ex-wife as well.”

  Sherlock barks up a storm. You really told her, Bizzy. Can we leave now? I’ll push her in the snow and you can run.

  Julia’s eyes widen a notch. “You did your homework, didn’t you, Bizzy?”

  “Not soon enough.”

  Her features harden over mine. “If I knew better, I would have framed your mother.”

  I nod to the eager pup at my side. “Sherlock, now!”

  He lunges for her and sends her plunging backward. The gun goes off like a violent clap of thunder, and without thinking, I dive for it.

  “No!” Julia cries as she tries to wrestle me away. “I’m sorry, Bizzy. You shouldn’t have put your nose where it doesn’t belong.” She grunts as she pushes me back a good three feet and I glide over the snow. “But I can’t let you go. You know too much.”

  Sherlock jumps and barks into the night as Julia and I push and pull at one another’s limbs.

  “Why kill those poor men? Why not just take their money and run?” I grunt right back as I struggle to get past her.

  “Death is the only way two people can keep a secret, Bizzy. It’s the only way you’ll keep mine.” Her hand slaps down over the gun, and a spear of defeat rides through me.

  “Freeze!” a deep voice bellows from behind, but Julia snatches up the weapon regardless and I catch her wrist before she can point it at me.

  A body falls over the two of us, and it’s Jasper’s face I see next to mine.

  In a flash he has Julia’s arms behind her back and Leo is right there to cuff her.

  Jasper pulls me into his arms and helps me to my feet.

  “Bizzy Baker.” He buries a kiss into my hair as he holds me tightly. “You are going to be the end of me. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I promise.” I pull back, panting. “She did it. She confessed. Julia killed Lincoln. And she killed her old boss, too, and who knows how many more people. She’s a serial killer is what she is.”

  Julia grunts and groans as Leo leads her past us.

  “That’s right, Bizzy. I’m a killer.” She tries to lunge at me as Leo holds her back. “And if I ever get out—and I will—I am going to hunt you down. I wouldn’t sleep tight if I were you. I hope you live in fear for the rest of your life!” she roars out those last words at me and they echo through the night.

  “Don’t worry”—Jasper whispers as Leo leads her toward the bevy of patrol cars speeding to the scene—“you’ll be sleeping safe. I’ll make sure of it.” In my arms if she’ll let me.

  “You really do care for me, don’t you?” A tiny smile cinches on my lips as I look up at this gorgeous man with silver eyes.

  “I more than care for you.” His chest expands as he presses his eyes to mine. “I love you, Bizzy.”

  A breath hitches in my throat as my mouth rounds out in wonder. “You just said you loved me.” My entire body trembles with delight. “I love you, too, Jasper.”

  Snow falls a little quicker as Sherlock barks and jumps, this time with glee.

  And in that microcosm of a second, all is right in the world—and in my heart.

  Jasper and I share a kiss that says I love you without the use of words.

  It looks as if it’s going to be the merriest Christmas of them all.

  Chapter 19

  Christmas Eve in Cider Cove is special every single year. But Christmas Eve in Cider Cove with snow is an extraordinary bliss.

  All of Cider Cove has been turned into a virtual winter wonderland this afternoon and well into the evening. My dream of having an old-fashioned Christmas at the inn might have been usurped a teeny bit, but a wedding is always a welcome addition to a festive celebration.

  All of the usual suspects are here—my mother, my sister, my brother, Georgie, and, of course, my father—Gwyneth and her children, Dalton, Jamison, Maximus, Ella and her husband, and best of all Jasper. Emmie, Jordy, and their parents have joined us, too. Gwyneth let us know Camila couldn’t make it, citing she wasn’t feeling well.

  I’ve got to give it to Mackenzie. If she’s an expert at anything, it’s making people sick.

  And last, but never least, Sherlock and Fish are fast asleep underneath the Christmas tree, along with Mistletoe and Holly. They were so worked up all afternoon about getting a special Christmas dinner that as soon as they gobbled every last bite, they fell into a comatose state.

  In an odd turn of events, Gwyneth decided she didn’t want the masses pouring in to witness the matrimonial debacle about to take place between her and my father. Instead, she’s opted for something rather low-key. Very, very low-key.

  I make my way over to Mom, Macy, and Georgie who stand by the crackling fire dressed in their Christmas Eve finery.

  “Mom, what did you say to Gwyneth to diminish the crowds to the lowest common denominator? My God, we’re lucky she invited Dad.”

  Georgie growls, “She wouldn’t even let me invite Maurice.” She folds her arms over her chest in one quick, aggressive move. “And before any of you ask, he’s my favorite hot buttered bartender.”

  Macy takes a sip of her mistletoe-tini and nods. “Those are my favorite kind of bartenders, too.”

  Even though the wedding is a much smaller affair, Gwyneth still has an open bar—the only real taker being Macy—and the Country Cottage Café has still provided a sizeable buffet dinner guaranteed to please those who prefer either a surf or turf dinner.

  Emmie and I made sure there were lots of gingerbread whoopie pies on hand for all to enjoy, and along with them plenty of hot cocoa, apple cider, and eggnog.

  And speaking of eggnog, Julia Hart was arrested and formally booked for the death of Lincoln Brooks. In addition to that, Jasper informed me that the homicide investigation of Julia’s previous employer will be reopened, and the woman who was already serving time for the infraction will be temporarily released until the new investigation yields its findings.

  I already know what they’ll discover. In an irony only her moniker could provide, Julia Hart, in fact, was deficient in that very thing, heart. She is a cold-blooded killer who would have carried on her carnage again and again until someone came along to stop her. And for what? Plain and simple. Greed.

  I’m glad it’s over. I’m glad no one else will die at her hands.

  Mom gives a little wave in front of my face. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

  A heavy sigh expels from me. “Yes, I confess I am.”

  Georgie scoffs. “That’s three killers in a row, Bizzy Baker. I think you have a knack to catch a killer. Have you thought of changing professions?”

  “No way. I like managing the inn just fine. Besides, I’m hoping my sleuthing skills won’t be needed ever again. I’m ready for Cider Cove to return to its pre-homicidal state of innocence.”

  Macy squawks out a laugh. “As if that were possible. Cider Cove is a killer’s paradise. And along with their own depraved minds, we’ll start drawing in people interested in death tours.”

  Georgie nods as she holds up a crooked finger. “Morbid tourism. Now you’re thinking, sister.”

  “No, that’s terrible. We don’t want any of it.” I’m quick to refute it. “And I seriously doubt there will be any more killers here in Cider Cove.”

  “I agree,” a deep voice strums from behind as Jasper wraps his arms around me. “I’m pretty sure Bizzy has scared them all off.”

  A warm laugh breaks out.

  I bat my lashes up at him playfully. “As long as I don’t scare you off, Detective.”

  “I don’t think there’s a single thing you can do to make that happen. I promise it’s virtually impossible.”

  The sound of a bell chiming goes off, and we turn to find Dad and Gwyneth standing by the oversized Christmas tree strewn with hundreds of white twinkle lights, so bright and shiny it’s hard to see the ornaments through th
eir luminescent blaze.

  I look up at Jasper and try not to grimace or scream.

  “It looks like it’s time,” I whisper.

  Jasper closes those glowing gray eyes, and it’s as if all the light goes out in the room.

  “I guess it is.” He sighs as he leads us in that direction.

  Everyone gathers around the enormous evergreen as a justice of the peace that Gwyneth procured stands front and center.

  Georgie elbows me in the rib. “I offered to officiate the ceremony, but Miss High and Mighty wouldn’t have it.” All eyes turn to my quirky, fun-loving friend and Gwyneth rolls her eyes. “I was too good for them anyway.”

  Macy leans in. “You can officiate my wedding, Georgie.”

  Mom belts out a laugh. “I wouldn’t get too excited, Georgie. Macy has made it clear she’s allergic to nuptials.”

  Macy scoffs. “That’s because love is more than a piece of paper.”

  I lean over to Georgie. “You can officiate my wedding.”

  Jasper’s chest rumbles with a silent laugh. “Mine, too.”

  “Ooh!” Georgie wiggles her fingers as if she were casting a spell. “Do you think it’ll be the same one?”

  A small round of laughter titters through the room.

  Jasper offers a wry smile my way. It will be the same one.

  A visual of Leo and me at Candy Cane Lane bounces through his mind, and I cringe at the sight.

  “It will definitely be the same one,” I assure him and the room breaks out into a series of oohs and ahs.

  Dad nods to the crowd. “Shall we begin?”

  The mood shifts to something a touch more somber. This is a sacred event, and I can feel how special this is despite the fact I’ve lost count of how many wives my father has had.

  Gwyneth shines in a winter white sparkling gown, encrusted with thick elegant beading, and I’m betting it weighs fifteen pounds at least. Her dark hair is pulled back into an elegant chignon, and her signature blood red lipstick looks less festive than it does dangerous.

  “I have something to say.” She flexes a short-lived smile at the small crowd of friends and family. She takes up both of my father’s hands and looks lovingly into his eyes. “Nathan Baker, you are a prince among men. You are charming and wildly delightful and good in the sack, if I do say so myself.”