A Candy Cane Cat-astrophe

by Addison Moore

  The brother! Didn’t Holly make some snide remark about Mayor Wright’s brother? I believe Mayor Wright said you’re not worth my time, and she came back with your brother didn’t think so.

  That’s when you know things have really gone south. An affair in general is a death knell, but an affair with the sibling of your significant other is a nuclear obliteration that there is no coming back from. The siblings’ relationship is pretty much dunzo, too.

  “Well, lucky for you,” I say as he looks intently over my shoulder at the throngs gathered around the scene of the despicable crime. “But I guess my sweet cat and I won’t be getting our picture with Santa this year.”

  He shrugs. “You can try the tree lot up the street,” he says as he takes off toward the melee. “That’s the only gig they’ve got for him this time of year.”

  “Tree lot,” I whisper to Pixie, and she belts out a mewl. “Somebody killed a very inebriated Mrs. Claus tonight, and right about now, I bet they think they’ve gotten away with murder.”

  Pixie rubs her head against my neck.

  “That’s right, girl. And we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

  It’s my first Christmas here in Starry Falls, and I’m not ushering it in with a killer on the loose.

  At least I hope not.

  Chapter 4

  A snowstorm blew through last night and dumped a few more inches onto Starry Falls.

  I’m half a zombie today from staying up all night to keep the flames of love stoking. And I’m not talking about having my cookies frosted by Shepherd Wexler. I’m talking about the love I have for not freezing to death.

  Stephanie and I were supposed to take turns keeping watch over the fire so we could each get a half a night’s sleep, but she conked out solid and I didn’t have it in me to wake her—and I didn’t have it in me to wake up frozen solid either.

  The Manor Café has been pumping and jumping all morning and well into the afternoon, on this the very next day after that Christmas tree lighting catastrophe.

  People have been flocking into the café, and it’s not just for the love of my Nana Rose’s famous lasagna—although it’s nearly a sellout. It might not be her recipe, but it’s as darn close as Stephanie and I could get it.

  We’re selling more pizza than ever before, too, ever since Steph had the brainstorm to add all sorts of crazy toppings to them. The prosciutto and capicola seems to be a hit, but the clear winner is the tried-and-true pepperoni. And this month we’ve debuted one of our most treasured culinary memories, knockoffs of Nana Rose’s arancini. Basically, it’s a deep fried rice ball the size of a fist, made extra delicious with all the cheesy goodness we have hiding inside. That, along with a spicy version of our house tomato sauce, and it’s comfort food heaven in Starry Falls.

  Tilly comes back from the kitchen and begins to spruce up the garland trimming the area around the register. We’ve gone full Christmas assault on the place where the decorations are concerned.

  Back before the facelift, the Manor Café was a black and white checkered cozy little nook, albeit more than a little rundown with its ripped red vinyl booths, but that Naugahyde nightmare is a thing of the past. The old dark and depressing floors have been sanded down and stained a sandy blond. The red and white checkered racetrack pattern is thankfully no more, and in its place are white subway tiled walls that gleam and actually look clean and sanitary. Round wooden tables and warm, toned, comfortable wooden chairs have been dotted around the café, and the booths are plush and the color of butter. Modern pendant lights hang over each table, and it looks so chic and elegant, people have actually been bringing their dates by for a fancy night out. The laminated counter up front has been replaced with a genuine creamy marble, and we decided to keep the seating that lines its lip with the cherry red stools.

  And there are the Christmas decorations—miles of garland, the requisite giant red bows, the string of Christmas stockings with the employees’ names on them, the lights, the randomly placed naughty creepy miniature elves—it all adds a festive appeal.

  And as the star on top of the proverbial tree, I thought it would be a good idea for the staff to wear Santa hats while working the floor, and so far, our tips have been up by forty percent. Tilly proposed we wear these red pointy hats year-round, and I haven’t exactly wiped the idea off the table just yet.

  “So where we off to, Bowie?” Tilly unbuttons her blouse a notch. She’s donned a red sequin shirt that looks as if it was ripped right off the Las Vegas strip, and it really brings out that come hither look in her eyes.

  “I think we’ll start with Carol Bransford. I spoke with her last night, and she mentioned that the deceased had an affair with her brother. And as it turns out, sleeping with someone’s brother seemed to be a trend Holly was keeping to faithfully in her life. Apparently, she hooked up with Mayor Wright’s brother, too.”

  “Yuppers.” Tilly nods. “I remember when that broke about a year ago. It wasn’t pretty. Before that, she was just the mayor’s nutty wife, and after that, she was the mayor’s cheating nutty wife. Word started to circulate about wanting to ouster the mayor for tainting our good town’s reputation by way of a scandal.”

  “Interesting.” It sounds like the mayor has a solid motive himself, but I don’t dare breathe it in the presence of gossip-hungry patrons.

  Stephanie bops over with a tray of dirty dishes before setting them down on the conveyor belt behind me.

  “Regina says she wants to have an employee meeting.” My sister sheds a short-lived smile. “I guess you’re not in charge anymore, are you? Don’t think for a minute that woman isn’t gunning to take back what’s hers. I’m talking, both your position and your man.”

  I’ll admit, the thought doesn’t sit well with me, but it doesn’t surprise me either. Regina has made it crystal clear on more than one occasion that she’s still very much interested in both.

  The queen of mean, Regina, struts up at the same time as Thea and Flo.

  Regina has donned a tiny red and white Mrs. Claus outfit that looks better suited for the bedroom than it does the floor of any wholesome eatery.

  “Hear ye, hear ye.” She sheds a snide smile my way. “I motion this staff meeting get underway.”

  Stephanie leans in. “And I motion we make that hot dress you’re wearing our brand new uniform.”

  Tilly raises her hand. “I second that motion.”

  Flo grunts. “Only if it comes in black.” Flo is sort of our very own Goth princess with her overdyed shock of black hair, black nail polish, lipstick to match, and I’m pretty sure blush, too. She’s prone to wear leggings and oversized sweatshirts in the same somber tone, and her go-to footwear consists of a pair of beat-up black combat boots.

  Thea is a redheaded, freckle-faced cutie with a picket fence smile and a bright disposition on just about everything. I doubt she’d be caught dead in that glorified naughty nightgown.

  Thea shrugs. “If the dress fits, I’m in. I’ve seen those tips lying around on your tables, Regina. And I could really use some spare change this holiday season.”

  Leave it to Regina to turn the dress code into something far more fitting for a brothel.

  Regina sheds the glorious smile of a villain. “You can always count on me for having your best interests at heart. In fact,” she plucks off her Santa hat and dumps a fistful of tiny papers into it from her apron, “we’re doing a Secret Santa exchange this year.” She takes a moment to scowl my way. “Just because I’m no longer the manager, it doesn’t mean we need to break with a long-standing tradition.”

  Thea belts out a whoop. “I hope you get me again this year, Regina.” She bounces her brows at my sister and me. “Last year, she gave me a genuine cashmere shawl. I still wear it all the time, and it’s so ritzy even Opal asked to borrow it once. Of course, I haven’t seen it since I lent it to her, but I can’t wait to find out what you’ll get me this year.”

  We all take turns pulling a name out of the hat. Flo draws
twice because she claims to have gotten herself the first time and I draw last and get Regina.

  I shoot Flo the stink eye because I’m suddenly regretting going last.

  The girls take off for the floor once again, and Stephanie leans in. “Who’d you get? I got Tilly.”

  “I want Tilly,” I say. “How about we trade?”

  She snatches the paper from me and belts out a laugh. “Sorry, sis. This one is all you. I have a few ideas about what Tilly might like. If I were you, I’d hit the voodoo doll section when picking up something for Regina. Or cut to the quick, and make one of yourself for her.”

  Before I can give a snippy comeback, or agree, the bell chimes on the door and for a fleeting moment I’m hoping it’ll be my own tasty stud muffin stepping inside. But it’s not Shep. It’s those men from last night—the mobsters vaguely disguised as something wholesome and right like the naughty elf himself.

  Stephanie gasps as they make their way over. “Well, hello there, Hot Stuff One and Hot Stuff Two. Say, the two of you aren’t interested in making my bare-chested Santa dreams come true, are you?”

  “Nope,” I answer for them. “As the manager here, I’m allowed to deny service to anyone I want, and I’ve decided to deny service to the two of you. So skedaddle, scram, sayonara, sweethearts, don’t let the door hit you on your rock hard bums on the way out.” Just because I’m not their biggest fan doesn’t mean I have to disrespect some rock solid Italian DNA.

  They both have dark hair, dark smiles, and dark souls—a trifecta of mobster perfection if ever there was one. It’s Domenico Canelli and Enzo Lazzari, the dicey men from Steph’s not-so-friendly vision last night. At first, her vision seemed to be nothing but a bare-chested fantasy, but after Shep informed us they came from two notorious crime families just down south from us, I wanted nothing to do with them. Not that it stopped me from doing a little research last night.

  The taller of the two is Domenico Canelli, aka Dom the Devil. He’s got dark wavy hair, the face of a marble statue, and hazel eyes that I’m betting have hypnotized a woman or two into doing his bidding.

  The beefy one with muscles for days is Enzo Lazzari. He, too, has dark hair and the face of an angel gone rogue. His eyes are light as summer rain, and he’s cuttingly handsome. Ten bucks says my sister makes a play for him first. But make no mistake about it, Stephanie’s perverted intentions have doomed her to try to have her way with the both of them.

  The taller one nods my way. “I’m Dom. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Bowie,” I snip. “Call me sweetheart again and see what happens. I’ll give you a hint. You may have come in as a baritone, but you’ll be leaving a soprano—and not the fun kind they portrayed on HBO.”

  The one with light eyes and muscles holds up a hand. “Easy does it. I’m Enzo. We come in peace.”

  “What are you? Aliens? We don’t want the kind of peace you’re looking to give us. I know exactly who you are and where you hail from. And if you think you’re going to shake us down for money in the name of protection”—I say that last word in air quotes—“you’ve got another thing coming. My boyfriend just so happens to be a member of the Woodley Sheriff’s Department.”

  Out of the blue, Shep steps between them with a greedy grin twitching on his far too handsome face, and I can feel my cheeks heating.

  “Shep,” I say, zooming around the counter and pulling him away from the mobsters in question. I’ll leave my sister to her wily devices because I might have just overstepped my bounds with my new plus one. “Sorry about that.” I’m not sure whether to laugh or cringe, so I land somewhere in the middle. “I didn’t mean to call you my boyfriend. I was just trying to scare them. I didn’t scare you, did I?”

  Before he can answer, Regina all but throws herself at him.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here.” She takes him by the hand and leads him to the door before looking back my way. “Shep’s here to see me. We have something important to discuss.”

  My mouth falls open as she shuttles him out the door, and walking right through it in this direction is the ghost of Hazel Newton.

  “Good afternoon, Bowie.” She gives a friendly wave, and her red hair seems to shed a dozen pink stars in the process. She’s glorious in her ethereal state, glowing, floating, and overall jubilant in her disembodied state. And believe you me, I’m more than thankful she’s bright and cheery. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing worse than a moooody ghost.

  She leans in my way. “You don’t have to say anything because I don’t want anyone to think you’re losing your mind, but I want you to know I’ve had it with Regina Valentine’s behavior around here—especially her behavior concerning you, Bowie Binx. You should hear the terrible things she says behind your back. But don’t you worry. I’ve made it a little project to make her think she’s losing her mind.” She belts out a ghostly chortle before sobering up once again. “I was sort of hoping I’d find Holly hovering around the manor so I’d have someone to talk to but no such luck so far.”

  I grimace at the thought.

  “Don’t worry.” She gives a sly wink. “I’ll let you know if I find a spook or two to keep me company.” She starts to zip off then stops dead in her tracks. Technically, she’s always dead in her tracks, but still. “I almost forgot. I have a huge surprise for you. But I can’t give it to you until later. Let’s just say you won’t believe your ears.” She cackles again as she floats right back out the door.

  I head back to the Italian Stallions who have currently corralled my sister—not that she’s complaining. I’m pretty sure Stephanie plans on kicking in both of their stalls sooner or later.

  “No to whatever is being plotted, planned, or schemed,” I say, and Steph promptly shoots me a look.

  “You mind your own business—as in get outside,” she snips. “I can see Regina accosting your man from here.”

  I zip out the door so fast you would think I garnered the ability to float right through it just the way Hazel did.

  Shep looks lean and mean with his suit on, his emerald tie just the right touch for this holiday atmosphere. And yet, I don’t like how doggone cute Regina looks as she whispers feverishly, and rather intimately, into his ear.

  “All right,” I say, wrapping an arm around Shep. “Playtime is over. Get back to work, Regina.”

  Her dark eyes narrow over mine before reverting to Shep.

  “Remember what I said.” She holds a finger to her lips. “Nobody knows. We don’t need this kind of gossip getting out.” Her lips curve my way. “And I heard you inside, Bowie. Apologizing to Shep for calling him your boyfriend? If you can’t get off go, you’ll be over by Christmas.” She lifts a shoulder to him. “You’ve still got the key to my place. Feel free to use it anytime.”

  She takes off, and he wraps his arms around me before searing my lips with a heated kiss.

  “Mmm,” I moan into it with a dreamy sigh. “What planet are we on again?”

  “Apparently, one that’s occupied with aliens.” He ticks his head back toward the café. “Why do I get the feeling I was being put back in the friend zone?”

  “You are not in the friend zone—you are so far out of the friend zone. There is not one part of me that wants to be friendly with you. In fact, I want to be darn right mean.” I give his tie a quick yank along with a little wink.

  “You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Bowie.” He almost smiles. “But I have a feeling you have a naughty one.”

  “We should get together sometime. I’d like to prove you right.” I glance to the café. “What’s up with Regina? What is it that she doesn’t want you gossiping about?”

  He winces. “It’s nothing.” He presses out a heavy sigh. “Believe me, I don’t want to worry you over anything so silly.”

  “Then tell me.” I shrug. “Trust me when I say, I know how to keep a secret. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve taken secret keeping to new heights. I even have a secret safe word—meow.” I do my best impression of
a cat on a hot tin roof. And believe me, I’m not too far off, thanks to my hormonal overdrive.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you.” He glances past me. “It’s just—I don’t want it getting in your head and ruining your holidays. It’s your first Christmas in Starry Falls. I want to make sure it’s special.” His lids hood low, and suddenly he looks like a starving man eyeing a hot Italian meatball sandwich, extra provolone.

  Shep lands another kiss to my lips and makes me forget all about Regina Valentine and her secretive, gossipy ways.

  He pulls back and examines me as if soaking in my features. “I was going to pop in for lunch, but I just got a text from Nora about the new case. I might be late. Rain check on the meal with you?”

  “Rain check on the exploration of that naughty theory. There’s only one list I’m hitting this year, and I’ll give you a hint—it’s not the nice one.” A dark laugh brews in my chest as my fingers glide down his tie.

  Detective Nora Grimsley is Shep’s co-worker down at the homicide division. She’s also his ex-fiancée, but they seem to have had a mature parting, unlike the excess baggage Regina is trying to hold onto. Before I arrived in Starry Falls, Shep and the she-devil, aka the necrotic Valentine, had an on-again, off-again something or other. And by the looks of it, Regina is very much wishing it was on-again.

  “I gotta go.” Shep lands those luscious lips over mine once again just as Tilly bolts out of the café.

  “I know where she works!” she blurts the words out, and I’m quick to slit my throat with my finger in an effort to keep her from spilling my evening plans to my newly minted boyfriend. But Tilly’s lips contort every which way, because let’s face it—she’s an unstoppable force of nature. “Uh—I—um—that new customer who left her purse here works at the dry bar down the street.” She lifts her shoulders. “I’ll let you two get back to that mouth-to-mouth thing you were doing. Bowie is looking a little blue in the face. You’d better ramp up the efforts, Detective.” She gives a cheeky wink as she dives back into the café.