“Costumes. Lots and lots of costumes.” She presses a hand to her back as she forces herself to straighten. “Didn’t Winnie tell you?” Her eyes widen in horror. “You just can’t count on that girl for anything.”
Jordy points to the boxes in his arms. “Where do you want these, Biz?” Jordy is classically handsome, dark hair, light blue eyes, and the women approve by the droves. Aside from being my first husband, he’s a notorious playboy, and an unapologetic one at that.
My mouth opens as I look to the boxes, stymied as to why I’d want them anywhere.
“The ballroom.” Lucy nods. “That’s what Winnie was supposed to call you about. We can’t have the fashion show outdoors with the weather misbehaving. She said you had a ballroom we could rent out?”
“I sure do. But you can’t rent it out.”
A hard groan comes from her as she sags in defeat.
“Because I’m letting you use it for free.” A small laugh rumbles from me as I say it.
Sherlock and Fish run back this way and I scoop Fish up into my arms.
“I’m an animal lover myself,” I say, dotting a kiss to my furry girl’s forehead. “There’s no way I would take a dime from the shelter.” I nod to Jordy to move the boxes that way, and he gets right to it.
“I see.” She laughs with a look of relief on her face. “Winnie should be here at any moment. She’s really stepped up to the plate now that Siena is gone.” She shudders. How stupid of me to think that Murphy would employ his remaining brain cells and finally put me in charge. She blinks a smile my way. “Siena’s father requested that Winnie take over duties at the shelter until he decides what to do with it.”
“Is he selling it?”
Lucy waves a hand through the air. “I hope not. More than likely, he’ll let Winnie continue to run it.” Into the ground. How is it that a rescue center with more fundraisers than the White House has trouble paying its utility bills?
Fish blinks up at me. What is she thinking about, Bizzy? She looks tense. Is she the killer? Sherlock and I can trap her until Jasper arrives to slap the cuffs on her.
I shake my head down at my sweet cat for a moment.
“You really care about the rescue center, don’t you, Lucy?”
“I sure do.” She gives Fish a quick pat on the back. “Beautiful cat.”
Fish purrs with approval. She’s a smart one, Bizzy. This woman is no killer.
One stroke to her ego and Fish has already let this suspect off the hook.
Lucy gives Sherlock a quick scratch as well. “And have I got a dress for you, sweetheart. The two of you can be in the fashion show as well.”
Sherlock lets out a soft growl. Ask her why she pushed the girl. I don’t trust a woman who wants to put me in a dress.
“That would be wonderful,” I say to Lucy as Sherlock nudges my knee with his head. “But I think Sherlock Bones here would be much more comfortable in a suit.”
A belly laugh pumps from her. “You bet. In fact, I’ll make him look as dapper as possible. Now that I think about it, he is rather distinguished.” She shakes her head down at him. “Don’t you just love pets? It’s almost as if they know what we’re saying.”
“Oh, I have no doubt they do.” I let Fish down onto the counter. “So, what’s the word down at the rescue house? Who do you think pushed Siena?”
“There are rumors.” She gives a quick nod. I should do it. Out the brat. Who knew that after one brat left us, the next would step up to take her place? I liked them both right up until it was clear they would be taking the position that was due to me. I’m the one that broke my back at the rescue house day in and day out. It’s a hard position, and Siena turned it into a cushy one. Of course, Winnie is a hard worker, but she’s young. The shelter is all I have. It’s all I want.
Could Lucy have pushed Siena thinking she’d gain her rightful position at the shelter? She doesn’t seem to be an aggressive woman.
“What rumors?” I lean in.
She gives a quick look over her shoulder. “Let’s just say there were problems, big problems with the way the business end of things was being handled.”
That’s exactly what Jackson alluded to.
“You mean the way Siena handled them?”
Her eyes bug out as she gives a furtive nod.
“But Siena is gone. Things can change now, right?”
“You would think. But Winnie knew everything Siena was doing. So why didn’t she stop her?”
“Wait, did you know what Siena was doing?”
She gives a disgruntled huff. “Not until two weeks ago. Siena was no innocent girl, but Winnie knew about it far longer than I did.”
I shake my head over at her. “Lucy, what exactly is it that Siena was doing?”
The doors burst open and both Sherlock and Fish make a dash for the entry as an adorable little Chihuahua runs their way.
“Pickles,” I say with a smile as Winnie strides in right after him.
Lucy swallows hard. “I’ve said too much already,” she mutters under her breath. “How about we just forget about it?” She gives a quick wink. “I’d better get to the ballroom and see what we’re up against.” Lucy saunters off quickly as if her feet were to the flames—more like inflammatory remarks.
“Hey, Pickles,” I say as Fish and Sherlock usher the tiny furball this way, eager to catch up since their last visit.
Hello, Bizzy! Pickles wags his adorable curl of a tail and I bend over and give him a quick pat. Any news on who hurt poor Siena? I overheard Winnie say it was Harry. I never liked Harry.
Harry? Molly’s brother?
Sherlock lets out a sharp bark. Arrest Harry. And then give him a haircut.
“Hi, Bizzy.” Winnie sounds winded as she brushes the raindrops off her coat. Her long brown hair is windblown and her mascara is running a bit. “Sorry I forgot to call. Is it okay if we use the ballroom for the fashion show?”
There’s an inherent innocence about her, especially with those big brown eyes. I can’t imagine Winnie pushing anyone off a railing. But then again, her ring wasn’t just found at the scene of the crime—it was in the victim’s hair.
She squints over at me as if there might be something wrong, and I blink back to life.
“What? Oh yes! The ballroom is fine. Free of charge. It’s on me. The Country Cottage Inn is a big proponent of no-kill rescue shelters.”
Pickles lets out an injured yelp. You mean they could have killed me?
I twist my lips down at him. “The pets at the Bow Wow Rescue House are very fortunate to have such a loving environment.”
Pickles spins in a circle as Sherlock tries to convince him to head to the café in search of bacon.
Winnie nods. “That they are. And I feel pretty lucky to be a part of it, too.”
“How are you holding up?”
She glances to the ballroom. “As good as can be. Everyone at the rescue house is in deep mourning.” Okay, so not everyone. I’m a bit too relieved to miss her. When someone tries to slaughter you, it’s hard to grieve them.
Slaughter her? What in the world does she mean by that?
My mouth opens. “I—bet you’re grieving her the most.” I shrug. “You were her right-hand gal. You must have been close.”
Her lips quiver as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.
“We were close.” But Siena was trouble. There is no love loss between us.
“My best friend Emmie and I are close like that.” I nod. “But boy, can we go at it. I guess that’s what happens when you’re as close as sisters,” I say, hoping to lead her down the thorny path of a confession.
She shakes her head. “We never argued. We disagreed strongly, but that was it.” She closes her eyes for a moment. “And sadly, that’s exactly what was happening those last few days.”
“What were you arguing about?” I lean my ear her way and she blinks back, dismayed.
“Nothing really. Just the business end of things. Siena was th
e epitome of a socialite. She really didn’t belong in the setting she was in. I’m not even certain she liked pets all that much.”
Pickles pipes up, She didn’t, Bizzy! She had a sharp tongue. She said she’d turn me into a purse if I didn’t stop my yapping.
“Geez.” I cringe before looking back to Winnie. “I mean, who couldn’t love a face like that?” I inspect the woman before me for a moment. “Winnie, any news on who could have done this?”
What I wanted to say was, could you have done this? I’m really starting to wonder.
She shakes her head as if she heard my internal rant.
“I don’t know. Siena wasn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with. I mean, even Lucy had a bone to pick with her.” She averts her gaze. “Lucy is just bitter because Siena’s father gave the management position to his daughter. Honestly, I wish he would have given it to Lucy.” None of us would be in this position right now, especially not me. “But as far as who gave Siena that fatal push…” She gives a sideways glance to the ballroom. “I don’t know, but if I had to bet a dollar, my money would be on Harry.”
“Harry?” I ask, stumped that she’s solidifying what Pickles suggested. “Her ex? Molly’s brother?” A thought comes to me. “The one that works at Harmonize?”
“That’s the guy. But he doesn’t work at Harmonize. That would be Siena’s last boyfriend, Jackson. Harry works at the casino with his sister.”
I try to hold back the congratulatory smile wanting to break out on my lips. I’ll admit, it was easy to get that out of her.
She tips her head to the side. “I’m not sure what was going on exactly, but Siena was blackmailing Harry. Whatever she had on him, really set him off. They had a big blowout the day before she was killed, right there at the rescue house. It was ugly. Siena left in tears and Harry looked”—she takes a deep breath—“well, he looked fit to kill.” She shudders at the thought. “But I’m not saying a word. I’m sure the sheriff’s department will figure it out eventually.” I’ve got plenty to sort through before the sheriff’s department comes knocking. And if I’m lucky, they never will. She hitches her head toward the ballroom. “I’d better get there and see what we can do with the space.”
“Sure,” I say as she takes off.
Lucy all but implicated herself.
Both Pickles and Winnie implicated Harry, and that felt like it came from left field.
But there’s something about Winnie. She’s hiding something big, and I wonder if it might just be murder.
Chapter 12
As the afternoon waned, I received an odd text from Leo—and I’m beginning to think odd is par for the course with him.
Text Jasper and tell him to meet you at the Rawhide Eatery in Seaview at six. Tell him you’ll be at the bar. Don’t show up until seven. Trust me on this.
I scoff at the screen. You want me to leave my boyfriend alone in a bar for an hour? On purpose?
He texts right back. Fine. Make it six-thirty. Not one minute sooner. I promise you’re going to thank me. Maybe not tonight, but it will happen. And one more thing, don’t worry about what you might see. This will only benefit us in the end.
What I might see?
I don’t like a single part of his scheme and I haven’t even set foot out of the inn. If whatever he has planned doesn’t work, it’ll be the last scheme Leo Granger drags me into.
Let’s hope whatever this is, it doesn’t backfire.
I’m counting on you, Leo, to right all the wrongs in our world.
Don’t let me down.
I’ve never been to the Rawhide Eatery before, and standing in front of the establishment, staring at the seventy-foot neon boot, I’m beginning to realize why.
Jasper was thrilled that I asked him to meet me at the bar. Poor guy had no idea I was instructed to leave him to his own devices for thirty long minutes. But I’m betting Leo met up with him and they had an interesting chat—or not. Considering the fact I’m essentially clueless as to what Leo’s intentions are, I might just get the Golden Gullible Award for being so trusting.
Couples stream into the theme restaurant dressed in Western garb, the men with ten gallon cowboy hats and the women in their fringed bolero jackets and boots. And here I am, dressed in a pea coat and jeans. My favorite high-heeled boots look more gentlemen’s club than they do corral, but they’ll have to do in a pinch.
I head on in and the scent of peanuts, French fries, and beer permeates my senses. A barrel of peanuts greets me at the door as kids and adults alike come by in a steady stream with a bucket to replenish their supply. And judging by the shells on the floor, it’s perfectly acceptable to shuck your discards right onto the floor.
Country music warbles through the speakers, and in the middle of the establishment, there’s a dance floor where a handful of couples are cutting loose. It’s crowded here tonight. Lots of families enjoying a meal on the oversized wagon wheel tables topped with glass. There’s a stage with cowgirls and cowboys doing some sort of choreographed moves as the people on the dance floor try their best to emulate it. There’s a sign set up in the foyer that reads, Enter these here parts at your own risk. Men with neckties, watch for wild women with scissors. Women with wits, watch for wild men. Enjoy your grub! And just above the sign, there’s an entire wall dedicated to ties that have been rather unceremoniously severed.
A thought occurs to me. Jasper wears a necktie.
Dear God, what did I let Leo talk me into?
I head straight for the bar, and just as I’m about to enter that dimly lit den of depravity, I spot something that has me freezing in my high-heeled tracks.
“I’m going to kill Leo,” I hiss as my blood begins to boil.
Jasper is seated at the end of the bar, slumped over a bottle of beer. And next to him, sitting upright and chatty as can be, is Camila Ryder, his wily ex. Why do I get the feeling that text from Leo may not have come from Leo at all?
My feet begin to move in their direction without any prompting from my brain to do it. Apparently, I have a homicide to tend to.
“Well, look at this,” I snip just a little too loud and they both startle as they glance my way.
Jasper’s eyes widen a moment. “Bizzy!” He jumps out of his seat and offers me a quick embrace. “I wish I could say I could explain everything,” he whispers into my ear. “But the woman must be stalking me.”
I pull back and Jasper scoots over a seat, which leaves me to sit right next to Camila.
“Bizzy.” She snarls for a moment as she checks her phone. “I guess I’d better run.”
“Oh no. Please stay,” I tell her. “I’d love to hear what brought you out this way.”
Her hair is pulled back into a chignon and her face looks flawless with nothing but a swath of simple red lipstick and some mascara. Camila has that all-American girl appeal—if that girl was Ms. Psychotic America. Suffice it to say, I’m not entirely thrilled with the way Leo plotted this one out.
Camila is about to open that colorful maw of hers when her eyes snag on something behind me.
“Wait a minute.” She ticks her head to the side. “It’s those men.”
“What men?” I follow her gaze and a breath hitches in my throat. Seated at a table near the door are two men in dark suits that I’ve seen more than I care to remember back at the inn. It’s R.C. Kellogg and his killjoy of a colleague.
Jasper groans, “Not this again. Are they following us?”
It’s the men from the Metaphysical Research Department glancing this way every now and again.
Jasper jerks his body as if he were about to stand, but the men beat him to it. They drop a couple of bills onto the table and head on out without so much as another glance our way.
I shake my head in their wake. “What was that about?”
Oh, Camila. What are you up to?
I glance back to Camila to find her still squinting in their direction as if she were suspicious herself.
Huh.
S
he pulls a tight smile my way. “I guess I’d better leave.” Don’t worry. Bizzy. He was faithful. She scowls as if the thought offended her, and I’m sure it does. But it won’t be long now before you’re forced to admit your dirty little secret to him. He’ll especially love the part where you opted to tell Leo rather than him. Of course, that will open up a plethora of trust issues, not to mention the fact he’ll have to face the fact his girlfriend can read his every thought. And then, he’ll consider the future—what if his children inherit this strange ability? He’ll grow distant and cold, and eventually he’ll surmise that you might just be better off as friends. Perhaps he’ll even suggest you explore a romantic connection with Leo. It would be so very natural. You do, after all, share the same dark talents.
Camila offers Jasper an impromptu embrace before either of us can stop her.
“It was wonderful catching up with you,” she purrs over at him. “I’m glad I came by.” Her gaze flits my way. “I’ll see you around, Bizzy.”
She takes off without a fight, and I take a breath as I watch her boot-scoot her way out the door.
“What in the heck was that about?” I couldn’t help but ask. Although, with Jasper next to me, it’s more of a rhetorical question.
Jasper glances to the door and grunts.
A tiny giggle brews in my chest. “You look angry. And hungry. Are you hangry?”
“I’m all better now.” A sly smile glides up his cheeks as he pulls me in and lands a kiss to my lips.
A jagged piece of fabric hanging from his collar catches my eye and I gasp.
“That’s right.” He gives it a little tug. “They cut my necktie off at the door.”
“Oh my goodness!” A laugh bubbles from me. “I’m so sorry. I think I owe you a new tie.”
He shakes his head. “I’d rather have your time. Are you in the mood to split the country smokehouse barbeque trio?”
“It sounds like a lot of delicious food.”
“It is.” He pulls me closer.
“Good. Because I think we need to get our energy up.”
His eyes widen a notch. “For dessert?”
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