A Candy Cane Cat-astrophe

by Addison Moore

  At precisely three o’clock, Tilly shows up with a couple bottles of red wine, Opal shows up with a tinsel wig on her head and an appetite for great Italian food, and Dom Canelli and Enzo Lazzari show up with an appetite for my sister.

  Pixie, being the smart pink kitty that she is, has decided to observe the entire event from under the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. We’ve yet to decorate it, and I’ve gathered a few odds and ends, some lights, and purchased a couple of boxes of ornaments in hopes we can get to it tonight.

  The entire lot of us gathers around the table like an unholy family.

  Shep says grace, and soon enough we’re breaking bread with the devils themselves.

  Enzo, the one with the light eyes and goatee, nods to Shep.

  “So you’re really a cop, huh?”

  “Homicide division,” Shep says, cutting into his braciole, which turned out scrumptious by the way.

  Opal holds up her glass toward Shep as if she were toasting him.

  “Shep isn’t just a homicide detective”—she raises her wine a few inches more— “he writes best-selling novels about the mob.” She all but whispers that last word, but judging by the look Enzo and Dom just gave one another, my guess is that they’re more than a little intrigued.

  Dom, the one with the hazel eyes, shoots Shep a look.

  “So, uh, where do you get your information? You know, about the mob?”

  “The internet.” Tilly scoffs as she passes him a slice of garlic bread. “It’s not like Starry Falls is crawling with mobsters.”

  Stephanie giggles as she winks over at the two hunky wise guys in our presence.

  “Nope. Not a one.” She points to Enzo’s plate. “Another meatball?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He dishes himself out two more of the meaty delights, each the size of a fist. “You two ladies sure know how to whip up Sunday dinner.”

  “I have to agree.” Dom nods as he studies me pensively. “This is the real deal. Authentic. If I closed my eyes, I’d think I was at Grandma Canelli’s right about now.” He squints over at us. “So which one of you has ties to the family?”

  Tilly raises her hand without hesitation. “I can tie you up in front of whoever you like—my family is no exception.”

  “Oh!” Opal hikes her glass again. “We can use garland. Bowie has a box by the door. I take it the tree trimming is just about ready to commence.”

  Stephanie shakes her head. “Not until we’ve had cannolis.” She pulls a platter of those creamy sweet treats out of the fridge, and soon we’re all noshing on the sugared up ricotta confection as a round of moans circles the table.

  Shep lifts a brow my way. “These are amazing.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “I added the chocolate chips.”

  “Hear that, boys?” Stephanie straightens. “Your friend Lola here is responsible for all this yummy goodness. Aren’t you lucky we crossed paths?”

  Enzo moans as he looks her way. “I’m going to make sure you’re pretty lucky we crossed paths, too, sweetheart.”

  Tilly clamps her hand over Dom’s. “I’ve got ways we can cross paths that we will both be thanking our lucky stars for.”

  Opal grunts. “It’s clear some of us can’t hold our vino.” She wags a finger to Tilly. “A lady never propositions a man at the dinner table.” Opal leans her way. “She waits until we’re all rocking around the Christmas tree. I spied some mistletoe by the door.” She winks at Tilly.

  Shep’s chest expands as he looks at the two interlopers among us.

  “So, Enzo, Dom—Lola here tells me you’re looking to purchase property in Scooter Springs.”

  I filled Shep in on that little tidbit we gleaned after Stephanie and Tilly told me as much.

  Dom nods. “We sure are. I’ve found a nice little place called the Hideaway.”

  “Aptly named,” I muse under my breath. I force a smile his way. “What, pray tell, happens at this Hideaway?”

  “Dinner theater.” Dom holds a fist out to Enzo, and Enzo bumps it with his.

  “Ooh,” Steph squeals like a schoolgirl. “I love me some theater. So what are we talking? A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

  I make a face. “More like a midsummer night’s scream. Why do I get the feeling the performances will be less than savory?” I give the two hoodlums among us a beady-eyed stare. “What you’re really gunning for is to ensure your male customer base has a very good time with good-time girls.”

  The table grows silent for a moment before Opal waves her wrist my way.

  “A good time in Scooter Springs?” She chokes on a laugh. “Well, I demand a full justice department investigation.” She cackles at the thought, and both Tilly and Stephanie join her. “Oh, come on, Bowie. Don’t be such a cold fish. Scooter Springs is the good-time capital of all of Vermont.” She winks my way, and that tinsel on her head nearly blinds me. “Shepherd, I demand you show your new girlfriend a good time. She’s raining on everyone else’s parade. It’s Christmastime, for goodness’ sake.” She gives a long blink in Dom’s direction. “I’ll be there for the cabaret. I’m a sucker for a frilly skirt—of course, I’ll be wearing one myself. And if the dinner is anything like this one, it will be a savory delight.”

  “I stand by my statement,” I say as I look to Dom. “It will be a less than savory experience.”

  A dark laugh brews in Enzo’s chest as he looks to his future adversary.

  “Someone’s got your number, Dom. I’d fess up right now. Come on. We’ve got a cop at the table.” His lips curve as he glances to Shep, and the mocking taking place is palpable.

  Dom takes a breath as he inspects Shep. “I promise you, Detective, the Hideaway will be on the up and up. First class entertainment all the way. I’m thinking cabaret, magicians, comedy lineup, and I’m even thinking about including one of those artsy circus acts.”

  Tilly gasps. “I love the circus. Will you have trained poodles?”

  I scoff. “Try a whole town full of trained poodles.” I say trained poodles in air quotes. “Who are we kidding?” I open my mouth to call these two gangsters out on the farce they’re propagating when my sister jumps out of her seat.

  “Who are we kidding?” she chirps. “It’s time you boys take your shirts off and plop on some pointy red hats. We just so happen to be having a hot Santa contest in less than five minutes by the tree.” She leans toward Shep. “Don’t worry, Detective. I’ve got a hat for you, too, but you’ll have to earn it.”

  Opal chortles. “And sometimes the vino knows just what to say.”

  We move the party to the living room where Stephanie trades Sinatra for something a little more holiday-inspired, and soon Enzo and Dom treat us to a slow strip tease to the tune of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

  With a little prodding, Shep takes off his flannel and the T-shirt he has on underneath—thankfully, his weapon is nowhere in sight, but that six-pack of his is front and center.

  Tilly, Stephanie, Opal, and I whoop and holler while the three beefcakes in the room don their Santa hats, and just like that, my sister’s steamy vision comes true. Okay, so she was ultimately responsible for it.

  That vision I had of Shep and Regina discussing how they’re going to take me down comes to mind. And unfortunately for me, I’ll be the person ultimately responsible for that one.

  The seven of us deck the halls. Or more to the point, wreck them.

  Tilly hops onto Dom’s back, and Stephanie climbs up onto Enzo’s shoulders like a spider monkey, and soon enough there’s a bona fide chicken fight breaking out in the middle of my living room. It’s just like old times.

  Opal is drinking straight from the bottle in the corner with Pixie tucked in her arms while Shep and I string the lights around my tree and toss up a handful of ornaments.

  “You know something?” I wrap my arms around him, my eyes having a hard time choosing between his bare chest and his glowing blue peepers. “I never envisioned my first Christmas in Starry
Falls being so delicious.”

  Shep nods. “The food was great.”

  “I’m not talking about the food.” I glance down to that six-pack that I swear on all things holy just morphed into eight.

  A crooked grin takes flight on his face. “My eyes are up here, Sweet Cheeks.”

  “Aw, are you feeling a wee bit objectified?”

  “Maybe.” He glances down at my sweater. “I’d feel a heck of a lot less objectified if you evened out the playing field.”

  A husky laugh belts from me. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were wanting to get frisky with me tonight.”

  Shep’s gaze softens as he takes me in. “I don’t want just tonight with you, Bowie. I’m in it for the long haul.”

  “The long haul?” I bite down over my lip in an effort to control the sudden urge to bawl. Either Shepherd Wexler is a darn good actor or he’s—he really is in it for the long haul.

  He nods. “That’s right.” He glances up as he wraps his arms securely around my waist. “I think it’s time to let the mistletoe do its thing.”

  “Anyone ever tell you, you’re full of good ideas?”

  “I’m under direct orders from Opal Mortimer to show you a good time.”

  Shep and I share a kiss that tastes like a good idea, and maybe a touch of vino.

  It truly is the most wonderful time of the year, unless you’re Holly Wright’s killer.

  Whoever killed Holly Wright is experiencing their final holiday season outside of prison walls. And if Shep and I have our way, they’ll spend their first official Christmas inside them.

  Here’s to watching the killer jingle all the way to a life sentence with their shiny new silver bracelets. And when that happens, it truly will be the most wonderful time of the year.

  Chapter 11

  Last night after Shep and I made some good use of the mistletoe, I had a hard time falling asleep.

  I was surging with adrenaline, so I stayed up poking around at the dark corners of the internet until I found screenshots of those strange posts Holly made. A total of five that contained dark and grainy pictures you couldn’t quite make out—but her words, well, they were a little less diluted. There were three a few weeks ago, and then two just a few days before she died. It seemed they were almost evenly spaced three days apart each, then a week’s pause, then the final two. For the most part, they were gibberish—incomplete sentences that rambled on about chickens and the wood mill. The last two were gibberish as well, but included so many lewd innuendoes you knew exactly what was on her mind. They made her sound desperate for a man in the very worst way, and I can see where they would be highly humiliating. I can see why she would want to deny these posts and insist she was hacked. But it does seem like a veiled attempt to hide the fact she went on a drunk posting spree. Some people shouldn’t be let near a keyboard when they’re sober, let alone after they’ve had a few.

  It’s the middle of the next afternoon, and best-selling author, S.J. Wexler, just so happens to be having a book event down at the Starry Falls Public Library that I wouldn’t miss for all of Nana Rose’s cooking. Good thing I went into the Manor Café early and cooked up a storm. There’s enough of Nana Rose’s lasagna in there to feed the whole town twice, not to mention the fact Stephanie and I baked our little hearts out. You can’t have the holidays without a platter of Nana Rose’s Christmas cookies. They’re so delicious, Opal and I decided we’d start selling them by the box and taking holiday orders, too. We’re booked right up to Christmas Eve.

  The library is pulsating with life this afternoon. Tilly and Stephanie decided to join me in the event any hot men decided to show. So far it’s just Shep and Mayor Wright in a sea of women.

  To the right of the reception counter, an entire slew of folding chairs have been set out and a thick crowd of the aforementioned women sit at rapt attention as Shep reads an excerpt from a book he has coming out later this spring called The Family Man. It’s part of his ongoing Manon Tate series—yes, the same series that is loosely based on my family. I think it’s interesting to note that Shep not only had a fascination with my family before we met, but that both his father and mine are both serving time at the same correctional facility.

  My father, Angelo Santini, aka the Sunday Sinner, is in for a RICO charge that ended up taking down the Fazios, one of the biggest crime families in New Jersey at the time. And Shep’s father is in for killing his wife, Shep’s stepmother.

  Grisly, I know. But Shep says his father insists he’s innocent. Shep also said the evidence said otherwise and the prosecution had an ironclad case.

  Shep finishes up with his reading, and the room explodes with applause. Mayor Wright is one of the first up on his feet, and my sister smacks me on the arm.

  “See that?” she whispers a notch over the noise of the crowd. “He jumped to his feet first. He’s kissing up to the lead homicide detective in order to hide the fact he killed his ex.”

  Tilly grunts. “I’m about to kiss up to the lead homicide detective. He’s the only hottie in this place.”

  I shrug over at her. “If it makes you feel better, it looks as if Kaila Clark went all out. She’s got fresh coffee and donuts at the reception table.” I point to my left, and the both of them fly right out of their seats.

  Speaking of flying, a spray of pink miniature stars floats this way as Hazel Newton’s ghost slowly materializes before me. Her red hair is flowing and wild, and her eyes are lit up like unholy wonders.

  “Boo!” she trills as she floats on over. Her black tattered dress wafts behind her as she glides my way. “I heard Opal and Regina talking back at the café, and they mentioned you were here. Oh, how I miss the library.” She gives a mournful look around. “I guess the good news is that I can visit anytime I like. Only now I’d have to steal the books to read them.”

  “I have an idea,” I whisper, trying my hardest not to move my lips. “Why don’t you find some books you’re interested in, and I’ll check them out for you and leave them in the attic at the manor? That way you can read all the books you like, and you won’t be a book thief.”

  Her hair blows back as if a very strong breeze just hit the vicinity. “I think I’ll take you up on that.” She squints over at the crowd. “I recognize those women.” She nods in Shep’s direction as he speaks with a small crowd.

  “Kaila and Carol? The redhead and the blonde on the end?” I ask, anxious to see if it’s true.

  “Yup. They were both there the night Holly died. I saw the redhead having an argument with her. Then later, I saw the blonde having a stern word with her, too.”

  “I saw the same thing. Hey? You didn’t happen to see them head behind the town Christmas tree with Holly around the time of the murder, did you?”

  “No, but I saw that redhead weeping on the side of the manor before the murder ever happened. Whatever she and Holly fought about must have really upset her.”

  “That’s interesting.” I cock my head toward Kaila and note that Shep keeps shooting me a strange look. My guess is, he’s not too impressed to see his new girlfriend talking to herself. “Did you see anything else with Carol?”

  “No, not really. Wait a minute”—Hazel gasps—“I saw her pick up a black cat, Lucky, the one with a missing eye? She was standing across the street, holding him.”

  A thought comes to me. “Maybe we should talk to Lucky later? You never know. People say the darnedest things to pets. Maybe Carol saw something incriminating and whispered it to the sweet cat?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll go find some books before I head back to the café.”

  She zips toward the steamy reads, and I take off myself as I make my way to where throngs of women are all clamoring to get close to my man.

  I can’t help but smile at the thought. Shep is basically a rock star to these women, and to the masses at large as well. I get it, though. I was a big reader starting as early as junior high, and while other girls wanted to meet the latest boy band deities, I wanted no
thing more than to pick the brain of my favorite authors. And now not only do I get to pick his brain, I get to plant a wet one right over his lips whenever I feel like it.

  My body explodes with heat just thinking about it.

  “Donut?” Kaila appears next to me, holding up a red and green frosted donut. Her auburn hair catches the light like fire, and she has a glittering brooch of a Christmas tree pinned to her dark cardigan. “They’re right behind you, and they are amazing. I’ll confess, I’m a little addicted.”

  A tiny laugh bubbles from me. “I’m more than addicted. Way back when, I used to work in a donut shop. In fact, they wanted to fire me for eating half the inventory. I couldn’t help it, though. It’s almost impossible to pass up a fresh hot cruller.” I pull a jelly-filled donut out of the box and take a hearty bite out of it. “Mmm, this is really good.” I’m not going to fill Kaila in on the fact I was running dirty money through that little old confection shop of horrors, which promptly turned my life into a thing of horrors.

  Shep winks over at me from across the room, and I can’t help but swoon.

  Okay, so the part about having a hot author slash homicide detective boyfriend isn’t such a horror.

  “You’re really lucky, Bowie.” Kaila shakes her head as she looks to Shep. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but if I did, I’d want him to look exactly like Shepherd Wexler.” She sighs as she turns my way.

  Kaila looks to be about my age, about late twenties, so I’d say that whole never been tangled up with a man thing is sort of a surprise, especially since Beauford insists they’re dating. I distinctly remember her telling me she was between men the last time we spoke.

  “You’ve never had a boyfriend?” I shrug over at her. “Maybe you’re the lucky one. My ex turned me off to new relationships, but then, I met Shep and he changed my mind.” I examine her for a trace of anything that might indicate she’s lying.

  “Until I meet Mr. Right, I’m fine on my own. Besides, I’ve got my menagerie to keep me plenty busy. And the love that animals give—well, there’s something pure about it. Not only that, but anyone who comes into my life would have to accept my animals. Once you’re an animal lover, there’s no going back.”