Mistletoe and Holly give a lazy glance toward the commotion.
Mistletoe yawns. As long as we’re not spending the night in the trunk of her car, we don’t care where that woman goes.
Both Grady and Nessa, my trusty employees, run to aid Camila in the effort before she chips a nail, or cracks her skull open and sues the inn, or worse yet, me.
Mackenzie crops up with her shoulders back, a dark smile cresting her lips as we witness the spectacle.
I lean in toward Mack, never taking my eyes off Camila. “How did you pull this off so quickly?”
The queen of chaos barrels over before Mack can answer.
Camila’s hair is slightly disheveled, her mascara runs down one side, and she looks as if she got dressed in the dark.
She grunts at the two of us, “Don’t you think for a minute this is over.”
“Oh?” Mackenzie pulls out her phone. “Maybe I should place that call to the district now?”
I suck in a quick breath. “Oh God, Mack, please tell me that’s not what you threatened her with.” I cringe at the thought of Mackenzie finding out about that awful calendar. I feel terrible for hinting at the fact I knew something to begin with.
“What else would the two of you threaten me with?” Camila all but rips the phone out of Mackenzie’s hand.
I press my hand to my chest. “Camila, I’m so sorry. I never meant to let it slip.”
“Of course, you did.” A short-lived smile twitches on her lips “And I’ll go.” She blows out a quick breath as her eyes meet up with mine. “I take it the maniacal mayor doesn’t know the secret you and Leo are keeping, does she?”
My stomach drops as I shake my head at Mack. “There is no secret. She’s trying to manipulate you.”
“Am I?” Camila chortles as if she caught her evil second wind. “Come now, both Jasper and Mayor Woods are smart people. They’ll figure it out soon enough. And I’ll be there to rescue Jasper in the fallout, fair and square.” She glowers over at Mack. “And I just might take Leo back, too. I’m familiar with his type, Mayor Woods, and it’s not you.” She storms out of the inn, and poor Grady and Nessa follow along, rolling her endless parade of suitcases and bags.
Jasper walks through the door with a quizzical look on his face, glancing back at the spectacle Camila is making as she slogs off into the snow. Sherlock comes in bounding by his side, and I’d swear that he looks as if he’s grinning ear to floppy ear.
It’s over, Bizzy! You did it! You kicked her out. Sherlock lets out a bark in her wake. That’s the best Christmas present you could have ever given me—and Jasper.
Mackenzie presses her hand to my chest. “If I find out there’s something funny happening with you and Leo, you are next on my hit list, Bizzy Baker.” She takes off as Fish hisses and does her best to swipe at her.
“Bizzy Baker”— Jasper opens his arms and I head right over to fill them—“it looks as if Christmas came early. Who do I have to thank for that?”
“Camila Ryder, herself.” And her poor decision-making skills. “Anything new with the case?”
He winces. “It was oleander in that toxin, all right. But oleander and antifreeze are just about everywhere you look in this town. It’s not quite the smoking gun you’d think it would be.”
“That’s too bad.” I glance back to my purse lying behind the counter. “Jasper, I may have something that could peg the Bronsons with Lincoln’s death—or at least one of them.”
He leans in, trying to hook my gaze. “What is it?”
My mouth opens and all sorts of sounds croak out. “Okay, I might have procured a bottle of that proprietary blend antifreeze Dexter sells at his shop.”
His hold loosens on me as he searches my features. “Wait. Dexter Bronson sells a proprietary blend of antifreeze at his shop?”
I give a quick nod. “I think it’s exclusive to him.”
“Exclusive, huh?” I’d better get out there.
“Oh, you don’t have to.” I suck in a quick breath because, holy stars above Cider Cove, I just answered his thoughts.
I cringe. “Wait here.” I pick up my purse and head right back. “I just so happen to have a bottle.” I reach in and pull out the svelte blue plastic container, holding it out as if it had the power to gleam all on its own.
“Bizzy?” He tips his head to the side. “When did you get this? Did you go to Edison? Please tell me you didn’t talk to Dexter Bronson. Somebody who is willing to poison someone is a loose cannon.”
“Yes and no.” I duck a little. “I swiped it from his garage.”
“Bizzy, you”—he glances around and walks us away from a small crowd that just bustled through the door—“you stole this? What’s gotten into you?”
My mouth opens and closes. “Leo encouraged me to do it.” Okay, so throwing Leo under the bus wasn’t most likely the best move on my part for several obvious reasons.
“Leo?” His whole body stiffens in a silent rage. “Bizzy, what is going on between the two of you?”
“Nothing, I swear.”
“I’m beginning to think it’s something.” He glances to the bottle in his hand. “I’m going to make a few calls and try to get this tested as soon as possible. Would you watch Sherlock for me?”
I give an eager nod.
“Great. I’ll see you tonight, Bizzy.”
Jasper storms off, bottle in hand, and I give Sherlock a quick scratch between the ears.
I hope whoever killed Lincoln Bronson didn’t just kill something else—namely my relationship.
I shake my head at the thought.
Camila is gone, one or both of the Bronsons will be behind bars soon enough, and Jasper and I are going to get right back on track.
I hope.
Chapter Seventeen
The Let It Snow Christmas benefit is just getting underway as I stand at the reception counter welcoming all of the elegant women and the dapper men by their sides.
The mistletoe is hung—thanks to Georgie and her amorous frame of mind—and the trees are lit and sparkling like jewels adorned with dozens of red ornaments and big red velvet bows. Two oversized wreaths hang over the entry to the inn, and they’re both lit with hundreds of twinkle lights. Jordy worked hard all month hanging garland around the entire periphery of the building outside, and because we’ve had a fresh snowfall all day, he even built a snowman for us out front. It’s unusual for us to get snow around coastal Maine even in December, but it does happen and I’m thrilled to pieces it’s happening tonight because it’s simply magical.
Of course, I’m not leaving my menagerie out of the festivities. I put a bright red velvet bow on all the pets tonight. Fish sits proudly on the counter next to Mistletoe and Holly, and the three of them look like a trio of cute little gifts that Santa dropped off early. With their fluffy black and white striped fur, the three of them are starting to look like sisters now that the younger kittens have filled out a bit.
Sherlock has a plaid red bowtie on, along with those cute antlers we picked up last night, and not a single person has been able to resist him.
Nessa comes over in her glittering navy gown. Nessa Crosby looks like a supermodel in whatever she decides to throw on, but tonight she looks like a goddess.
“Go on, Bizzy.” She shoos me off with her hands. “You can check out the auction items now. I’ve already bid on six different things. They have a cabin available for three nights at the Windy Pines Lodge, and if I win I’m going to need a few days off.”
“If you win, I’ll be more than happy to give them to you.”
“Good luck!” she calls after me as I head into the brightly lit ballroom with its chandeliers glittering above like diamonds on a moonlit night.
It’s wall-to-wall people in here, and every face is a familiar one. All of Cider Cove has come out to help the needy families in our area. There’s a large tree in the center of the room, and an entire crowd of people is trying to take a picture of its splendor. It’s the only tree in the
inn that’s flocked and looks as if it’s just been doused with sparkling pink snow. It’s a wonder all on its own, and I’m half-tempted to take a picture of it myself when I spot my father heading this way, a huge grin on his face that never seems to leave.
“Bizzy Bizzy!” He pulls me in for a quick embrace. He’s donned a nifty looking dark suit and looks as dashing as can be. “You pulled it off. The place looks great, kiddo. And so do you.”
“Thank you,” I say, glancing down at the red velvet dress I salvaged from a vintage shop down the street. It’s off the shoulders and formfitting up top with a bell skirt. I just had to have it once I saw it. “So where’s the lucky bride-to-be?” I crane my neck past him, but I don’t see a trace of Jasper’s mother.
“She’s around somewhere. We ran into Ree, and you know how your mother is. She insisted on having a quick chat with her.”
My mouth falls open. “With Gwyneth? And you didn’t protest?”
He shrugs as if it were no big deal. “They’re grown women. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Garland could be used as a strangulation device—against you once Mom spills the dirt she’s been acquiring on you for years.”
He belts out a laugh before stopping abruptly. “On second thought, I’d better go hunt them down.”
Georgie runs my way before I can make a move. She’s donned a red glittering kaftan and has a wreath of gold garland in her hair, giving her that seventies flower child vibe and I love it.
“Bizzy Baker, I just bid on the muffin basket of the month from the Country Cottage Café.”
“Georgie, you could have all the muffins you like, year-round for free,” I whisper, lest another guest should hear me. Georgie might have a few more perks than other guests, but that’s because she’s one of my favorite people on the planet.
Her eyes narrow in on mine. “Rub it in my face, why don’t you.” She gives a little wink. “I’ll be sure to pass on the freebies to Maurice if I win.”
“Who’s Maurice?”
“My favorite bartending hot buttered bun, if you know what I mean. Speaking of which, I’d better track him down before he melts away.” She zips off, and I spot Calvin by one of the many auction tables.
Calvin St. James wanders slowly with his arms folded across his chest as he inspects the long line of wares up for grabs. There are baskets filled with books, and cooking supplies, one with sports memorabilia, and a few with gifts that are already wrapped for both men and women. Calvin looks smart in a dark suit and bright green tie. His thick hair is combed back, and yet he looks stoic at the surroundings as if he were waiting for it all to be over with.
“Calvin,” I say as I stride right up to him. “Can I offer you a refreshment? We’ve got hot cocoa and hot apple cider, and, of course, regular coffee and peppermint mocha, too.”
“That’s okay, Bizzy.” He perks up just a bit. “I’m just waiting for my girlfriend to get a good look around.”
“How about you? Are you bidding on anything?”
“Not tonight. And maybe not ever again. They just had the reading of Lincoln Bronson’s will, and I’m up a creek without the financial paddle I thought I’d have.” He blows out a breath. “When you work your whole life only to meet up with a crooked business partner, it’s a bitter pill to swallow.”
“I’m so sorry. I thought Lincoln Bronson was sitting on an entire pile of money.”
“I did, too. But as of late, it seems to have up and disappeared. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll have that peppermint coffee now and I’d better track down my date.” He takes off, and I blow out a breath after him.
I think Calvin St. James might just have the toughest pieces to pick up after Lincoln’s death.
No sooner do I have the thought than I spot both Mary Beth and Dexter Bronson. Gone is Dexter’s Santa suit and in its place is a bright red tuxedo. At least he has no problem standing out. Something tells me he enjoys the attention. Mary Beth is wearing a dark green drape that I’m not sure if it’s an actual dress or an ill-fitted poncho.
Mary Beth spots me and waves. “Bizzy.” She scuttles this way. Her dark hair looks freshly dyed and her nails are bright red and sharpened like daggers. “I just have to win that basket full of jams and jellies.” She leans in and the scent of her musky perfume makes my eyes water. “I’m the head of the parent-teacher association down at Cider Cove Elementary and we would love to make a donation on behalf of the PTA.”
“That’s so nice of you.” I inch back to get a better look at her. Are killers always this nice? Maybe she’s trying to throw me off her scent. “How is everything going in the neighborhood?” I’m half-tempted to text Jasper and let him know our two prime suspects are standing right in front of me.
She glances back at Dexter before leaning in. “It turns out, Lincoln left me his house.” She grimaces before tittering with a nervous laugh. “Can you believe it?”
“Wow, that’s—well, I guess he thought very highly of you.”
She shrugs. “At first I was baffled by it, but it’s official. He filed with his attorney just a few weeks back.” She shudders. If that doesn’t make me look like the killer, I don’t know what does. If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone were trying to frame me.
The killer? As in not her?
I glance to Dexter as he finishes bidding on a signed basketball.
“Well, congratulations on that. I mean, you did gain something very valuable.”
Dexter pops up behind her and raises a mug of hot cider my way. “It’s the cookie girl. Did Mary Beth tell you the news? It’s like we won the lottery.” Except my wife had to sleep with her ex to get the prize.
“Yes, she did,” I say. “In fact, I was just congratulating her. What do you think you’re going to do with it?”
“Burn it,” Dexter deadpans, inspiring Mary Beth to honk out a laugh.
She leans in. “I’m going to spruce it up and see if I can’t get a mint out of it when it goes on the market this spring. Who knew it would be Lincoln Brooks who would put my kids through college?”
Dexter smacks his lips as if the idea didn’t sit well with someone else providing for his family.
He lifts his drink once again. “You know what they say—easy come, easy go. I might use it as a man cave until then.”
Mary Beth grunts, “Good luck getting Julia to leave.”
“Oh, she is leaving,” I volunteer. “She got a job down in South Carolina. She’s leaving on Monday.”
“Monday?” Mary Beth presses a hand to her chest. “Christmas Day?” She shudders dramatically and belts out a groan along with it. “You couldn’t pay me to travel anywhere that day, or about a week afterwards. It’s odd, don’t you think? No family, no friends. She’s just worked for Lincoln for about eleven months.”
“That’s too bad. I think she liked him and would have stayed longer if she could have.”
Dexter lifts his brows as he turns away. She liked him, all right. A little too much. I will never understand the spell Lincoln Brooks cast on women.
I look to Mary Beth. “Do you know where she’s from originally?”
“Kansas?” She points to the ceiling. “No, that’s not right. Texas, maybe? Anyway, I know for a fact she said she worked in New Hampshire just before this.”
“It sounds as if she moves around a lot.” Poor thing. It must be near impossible to develop healthy relationships that way. No wonder she appreciated the attention Lincoln was giving her—inappropriate as it was. If it’s true at all.
But I would have killed him if he tried to pull a move on me.
A cold shiver runs through me just as my phone pings.
“Excuse me,” I say as I step away from Mary Beth and Dexter. “Please be sure to snatch up some gingerbread whoopie pies at the refreshment table. They’re baked fresh right here at the inn.” I glance down to my phone to see it’s a text from Jasper, and I quickly head for the exit as I read it.
It’s a match. The concen
tration of methanol was unique to that product. Bizzy, if you see either one of the Bronsons, I’m asking you to steer clear. I’m on my way to the inn. See you soon.
“Oh my God.” My heart thumps into my throat as I turn around and spot the two of them not only happily noshing away on my gingerbread whoopie pies, but stuffing their pockets with them, too.
Perfect. They’re killers and they’re thieves. Although I’m not sure loading up on free carbs is stealing, but nevertheless.
I turn to leave and nearly knock over the woman in front of me. I stabilize her by the arms and she laughs.
“Hello to you, too, Bizzy.”
“Julia.” I breathe a sigh of relief.
She has her hair swept back into its signature bun, and she’s donned a plain black dress.
I’m half-tempted to blurt out everything to her regarding what Jasper discovered, but I decide to keep it close to the vest for now. “I’m glad you’re here. I know you’re leaving soon, but most of the items up for auction are ready to take home tonight.”
She shakes her head. “I just came to say goodbye. I actually buttoned up everything earlier today. My car is all packed, and I’m leaving tonight. I’m driving down to McBride and spending the night. I’ll drive down as far as I can get the next day. But I’ll check out the auction items anyway. Who knows? I might just find something I can’t live without.”
My expression sours just hearing the news. “I’m really sorry to see you go. I just wish I had met you sooner. We could have been great friends.”
“I think we’re great friends already.” She glances past me and makes a face. “I see they’re here. I’m shocked they haven’t been arrested yet.” Nothing burns me more than to see those two enjoying the holidays. They should’ve been locked up by now. One of them at least.
I can’t say I blame her for thinking it. But it is the holidays and the Bronsons have children. This might very well be the last Christmas they spend as a family for a very long time.
Julia shakes her head. With all the clues out there, you’d think connecting the dots wouldn’t be all that hard.
Santa Claws Calamity (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 3) Page 14