Sealed with a Hiss

by Addison Moore

And just like that, I’ve primed my suspect—with my name of all things. It’s been a go-to icebreaker for some time. But who knew it would come in handy under such dark circumstances?

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m infamous for butchering names. That is, if I can actually remember them. They seem to go in one ear and out the other these days.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “It’s not the easiest name to remember. And where’s your cute little teddy bear pup? Was it Gimble?” I snap my own fingers while glancing down at her shirt. “Gizmo!”

  I figure she might like me a bit more if I shared her plight to botch names.

  Sugar groans. Really, Bizzy? There has got to be an easier way to speak to a suspect than adapting their weaknesses as your own.

  If there is an easier way, I don’t know about it.

  “Yup, Gizmo is my fur baby. He’s around somewhere,” Diane says while squinting at the carrier strapped to my chest. “Hey, is that you, squirt?” She reaches over and plucks Sugar on out. “Hey there, cutie pie.” She plies Sugar with snuggles and kisses, and the tiny fuzzy cat purrs like a jet engine. “What’s a cute kitty like you doing at a dog park like this?” She laughs at her own joke, and I join right along.

  “I’m still watching her for Bobbie. My friends and I thought we’d let our puppies stretch their legs, and I couldn’t leave her at home. I thought she could use the fresh air, too.”

  A yelp comes from our left, and we turn to find Georgie surrounded by a dozen barking, snarling canines, all drooling to sink their teeth into her salty stash.

  “Bizzy Baker!” she shouts while holding the bucket above her head and running in a circle.

  “Oh, good grief.” I cringe as I mentally catalog all the ways this could go south for the entire lot of us. “Drop the bucket, Georgie!” I shout. “It’s not worth a broken hip!” Or me losing the attention of a prime suspect, but that may have already happened.

  It takes approximately three full seconds before it rains bacon, and now there are at least two dozen dogs flocking all around her. However, not one of them is barking or snarling. They’re all eating.

  Georgie quickly makes her escape as she heads our way.

  “Are you okay?” Diane calls out, and Georgie gives her the thumbs-up. “We don’t recommend feeding other people’s pets because they might be on special diets.” She grimaces at Georgie as if it pained her to have to call her out on the obvious. “You don’t have any more bacon, do you?”

  “Does a bear poop in the woods?” Georgie opens her tote bag to reveal a whole new stash of salted meat. It looks as if the Cottage Café will have to pick up some more bacon if it wants to meet the breakfast demands come morning.

  Diane shrugs over at her. “Well, hand some over. I could go for a snack myself.”

  “I knew I liked you.” Georgie gives her a generous fistful, and soon they’re both noshing on cured meat. “So what brings you here? Let me guess. You’re looking to pick up a cutie for yourself? I’m telling you, no matter how old we get, it’s never fun staring down the barrel of that heart-shaped day. Any luck with the men around here, or are they all a bunch of dogs?”

  The two of them share a laugh.

  “Nope.” Diane gives a wistful tick of the head. “I’m all done looking for men. I landed myself a good one a few years back, a man named Rick.” She glances my way. “In fact, Bobbie Buckingham was the reason I met him. She was adding on a small office for herself on her property, and Rick was the senior building inspector. We’ve been married for years now, and don’t think Bobbie hasn’t taken credit for it, too. She’s added us to her success stories’ lineup at the end of her new book. That was my idea to add the successful couples’ list addendum. I figured a testimonial or two might help boost their sales. I can’t help it, I’m a businesswoman at heart. I used to be a franchisee of Donut King, had about three stores, but I sold them all a few years back.”

  Georgie and I moan in unison as a bad donut craving hits us both at once.

  “I love the Donut King,” I say. “You just can’t find a soft, melt in your mouth donut like that anywhere else.” I look to Georgie. “But don’t tell Emmie.”

  Georgie waves me off. “Everyone knows the Donut King is royalty when it comes to deep-fried confections. So what keeps you busy these days?”

  “This place, for one. And I do some light managing for Bobbie and Lacey.” Something snags her attention, and she makes a face. “Hey!” she shouts over at someone across the way. “The small dog area is to the left, lady!” She shakes her head just as Georgie and I spot Juni scooping up Sprinkles and scowling our way.

  In Diane’s defense, there are three giant dogs, all eyeing Sprinkles as if she just emerged from a yellow bucket herself.

  “Now see that woman in the heels?” Diane dips her chin, her eyes still intently pinned on Juni. “I know her type. She’s not here so much for the dog as she is the men. That’s why she’s standing with the Beastie Boys, a cute nickname I gave to those three gentlemen who happen to own those glorified horses she was letting her teacup puppy play with. You’d be surprised how many women use this place as a pickup joint.”

  “Yeah”—Georgie squints over at Juni—“but you have to admit, it’s tough out there in the dating world. I can’t blame the kid. She wants to meet quality people, and what better locale than a place where decent humans take their fur-babies for a walk.”

  “You’re so right.” Diane presses her hand to her chest as if she were touched by Georgie’s spontaneous soliloquy. “Which dog is yours?”

  “I borrowed one from a friend.” She winks over at her. “Don’t judge, I’m staring down the barrel of V-Day myself.”

  Diane tenses a moment, and I can tell this conversation is about to go sideways quickly.

  “Georgie? I think Sherlock looks lost.” I nudge my head to the left where Sherlock looks plenty oriented, but I’m hoping Georgie will take the hint and get lost herself. At least for a minute.

  Georgie smacks her lips. “Honey, that dog rules the roost at a place like this. Look at him go.” She points his way. “He’s got two standard poodles and a Lhasa Apso sniffing around. I know better than to ruin his mojo.”

  Figures. She doesn’t mind ruining mine.

  “So Diane”—I take a quick breath, trying to recalibrate—“how did you meet Bobbie and Lacey?”

  “Yeah”—Georgie leans in—“I’m looking to get into the light management gig myself.”

  Diane sheds a good-natured laugh while dropping a kiss to Sugar.

  “Actually, I met Bobbie at one of her first speaking events way back when there was no Lacey. She was more or less a motivational speaker with nothing but a simple little blog to her name. She was frazzled because her event wasn’t going off as planned, so I told her I’d untangle a few knots for her. It took less than ten minutes for things to run smoothly. The next thing I knew, she asked if I would step in and help with the bookings. She paid me, of course. Not much, but then, I wasn’t expecting anything for it.” I would much rather she didn’t pay me. Maybe then she wouldn’t have felt inclined to borrow money from me—lots of money that deep down, I knew she’d have a hard time paying back.

  My mouth falls open. “I’m sure Bobbie is good for the money.” I clear my throat. “Keeping you on as an employee, I mean.”

  She ticks her head to the side. “You’d be surprised. Bobbie and Lacey don’t make much off their podcasts, and that book has yet to sell at any impressive numbers. I should know, I’m the number cruncher for the two of them.”

  “Oh? So are they in over their heads?” I ask, trying to sound as if I didn’t just pluck a nugget from her mind that let me know Bobbie is deep in the red.

  “To put it mildly, they’re really good at spending money. They’re just not very good at generating it. But it doesn’t mean they can’t. I’ve always told Bobbie she needs to hire a real PR company, but she insists on doing local stuff and growing her business organically. Thank God she
survived that attack the other night.” But then, I knew she would.

  She knew Bobbie would survive the attack? As in she arranged it that way?

  And thank God Chip had a decent life insurance policy. If Rick finds out I gave Bobbie sixty thousand dollars from my retirement fund, I’m pretty sure he’d have a heart attack on the spot. And shortly thereafter, he’d hightail it to the nearest divorce attorney. I risked everything to help her out. If they really needed the money, I don’t see why Chip couldn’t ask Tiger. Lord knows Tiger Caldwell is loaded to the hilt. But Bobbie wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with Chip by then.

  Why wasn’t Bobbie on speaking terms with Chip? And when and why did this discord take place?

  My wheels are churning in every direction at once.

  A tiny furry angel runs over, and we look down to see Gizmo barking up at the three of us.

  Bizzy! Georgie! Diane! Come quick, they’re singing happy birthday and you’re going to miss the cake.

  Diane laughs as she looks up ahead. “Looks like there’s another doggie birthday party in the works. We’d better head over and take a look. I always get the feeling Gizmo is trying to show me the cake.”

  Gizmo barks as he runs off ahead of us. I knew she understood me!

  We hit the small crowd gathered by the fence, and sure enough, a little spotted beagle is wearing a pink pointed hat while the masses sing happy birthday. Sitting in front of her is a cake in the shape of a large bone with tiny bone-shaped cookies dotting the top. As soon as the song ends, the owner, a man in a leather vest who Juni can’t seem to take her eyes off of, tosses a handful of doggie biscuits to the canines among us.

  Juni wiggles her shoulders his way. “Hey, hot stuff. Looking for a hot mama to help scoop the poop?”

  Eh. Not bad as far as dog park pickup lines go. It wasn’t her finest moment, but it could have been worse.

  Diane leans my way. “What did I tell you?”

  “You weren’t wrong,” I say right back. “Would you mind if I ask you a question about that night?” My shoulders hike a notch as I segue into the topic.

  “Sure. Anything.” She shrugs as if she means it.

  “That envelope you gave to Bobbie—what was supposed to be inside it?”

  Her eyes close a moment too long. “Two tickets for a Caribbean cruise. Just a five-day outing from Florida. Nothing more than a booze cruise. Lacey found a special last December for less than half off, and we thought it’d be a fun surprise for Bobbie and Chip.”

  “Oh? Was it their anniversary?”

  “No, it was just something Lacey thought they deserved. With the intention, of course, of doing it at our next big conference.” Lord knows everything needed to be acknowledged publicly. “There were some publicity elements to the gift as well. Bobbie’s fans really buy into that whole perfect couple angle she and Chip were putting out there. It dovetails into the fact they’re all about relationships and making them work. Most of the women who listen are yearning for a romance of their own, and the getaway was supposed to get them in the mood for romance.” And in the mood to buy that darn book on how to find your perfect pairing. Maybe Bobbie and Lacey should change the title of that book to A Perfect Parting—as in parting me from my money. She sighs as she looks to Gizmo. “Come here, boy,” she calls out, and I can feel our visit coming to a close.

  “Diane, who could have made that switch? Did you ever find the right envelope?”

  “I don’t know who did it. But I guess it could have been anyone. I had that envelope unattended on my seat before the event ever started. And the envelope was the same one I was going to give her. Someone just added the pictures—and, unfortunately, that’s what Bobbie saw first.”

  I nod her way as I consider all of this.

  “Well, I’d better go.” She hands Sugar back to me and scoops up Gizmo. “I’m off to make Rick some stroganoff for dinner. It’s his favorite. Nice seeing you ladies again. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the books you’re storing for me. I’ll be by the inn bright and early on Valentine’s Day to help stage the scavenger hunt.” She gives a cheery wave as she takes off.

  “And just like that, I’m left with more questions than I came with,” I mutter to Sugar.

  Like? the tiny cat mewls.

  “Like why did Bobbie need to borrow sixty grand? And why would Diane risk everything to give it to her?”

  I guess you’ll have to wait until Valentine’s Day to get your answer.

  “No.” I shake my head, still watching Diane as she makes her way toward the barking lot—per the sign in front of the lot we parked in. “I’m going to do my darnedest to speak with Tiger Caldwell.”

  A riot of barking breaks out, and soon every dog, big and small, in the park is chasing after Georgie as she runs this way.

  “They’re after my bacon, Bizzy!”

  “Then give it to them,” I scream in a panic, but Georgie persists in heading my way.

  Bizzy! Sugar yowls as she jumps into my front carrier and burrows in deep. Run!

  And I do.

  Georgie, Juni, and I run all the way to my car and don’t look back.

  And since Georgie didn’t part with her stash of salted meat, we enjoy a nice snack once we land safely inside.

  Sherlock and Sprinkles get their fair share, too.

  And I’d like to give a fair share of my attention to Tiger Caldwell.

  Here’s hoping Tiger Caldwell will be just as easy to track down as Diane was.

  Although something tells me he won’t.

  And I don’t think I’ll be able to lure him into spilling his secrets with bacon either.

  But I have a saucy sister who might just do the trick.

  Here’s hoping I don’t land my sister in front of a cold-blooded killer. Not that it would be her first foray with a homicidal maniac.

  Tiger Caldwell, this might just be your luckiest Valentine’s Day yet, courtesy of the Baker sisters.

  Tiger.

  Here kitty, kitty, come out, come out, wherever you are.

  Chapter 10

  “That’s the one,” Mackenzie Woods announces with fervent vigor as I stand examining myself in the mirror wearing one of Georgie’s wonky quilt dresses.

  It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday, and I’ve come to the conclusion these so-called wonky quilt dresses should be outlawed every day of the week.

  The shop my mother and Georgie run together, Two Old Broads, is teeming with customers. It’s the first day of their big winter sale, and everything is being snapped up at a quickened pace, even these wonky disasters.

  Okay, so they’re not disasters, but I can sense one on the matrimonial horizon and I seem to be taking it out on this innocent frock.

  Fish and Sugar watch from on top of the checkout counter, both equally horrified and yet somewhat amused.

  Juni is working the register while Georgie and my mother cautiously watch me from the corner of their eye, where I stand just outside of the dressing room with Mackenzie and my mother-in-law, Gwyneth. They’ve both come to the startling conclusion that I should wear this piecemealed muumuu on their special day as I stand up for the both of them. If I ever had doubts that they liked me, they’ve firmly been put to rest. I can rest assured both women seek to humiliate me in the very near future.

  Two Old Broads is a rather eclectic shop, selling everything from quilts in all of their iterations to Georgie’s sea glass creations. The shop holds a cozy appeal with rustic floors and homey furnishings. Most of their inventory is held in large wooden barrels scattered around the shop and on chunky dark-stained tables.

  Oh, they hate you, Bizzy. Fish brays and it sounds like a laugh. The next thing you know, they’ll ask you to wear your hair in rollers and frost your face with a mud mask.

  Sugar swipes the air. Look on the bright side. You can always find a corner to curl up in and take a nap.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “There are going to be a lot of bodies in that ballroom that ni
ght. I might overheat in this.” I pluck at the creamy quilt with its large, triangular sections of red and pink fabric. If the circus came to town, they might just storm this shop and demand to get their tents back. “You don’t want me passing out, do you?”

  Mackenzie and Gwyn exchange a brief look as if considering the entertaining possibilities an event like that might bring. I know how their wicked minds work, and yes, I just referenced Jasper’s mother as wicked.

  This is one of those moments where I’m glad there’s not another mind reader in the room.

  Gwyneth takes a moment to glower at me. “I know what you’re thinking, Bizzy. And yes, we do like you. In fact, we love you. We’re going to be family. Nobody is trying to humiliate you by putting you in one of these festive dresses. It just so happens that our shared wedding day is of a quirky nature, and we think it fits the theme beautifully.”

  “Oh?” I examine the two women before me. “So I take it you’ll be wearing something quirky yourselves?”

  Georgie gasps as she trots in close. “That’s a brilliant idea! I’ll have a couple of special wonky quilt wedding dresses made up just for the two of you. I’ll have my seamstresses whip up something with lots of silver and gold—real classy deals. Hear that, Ree?” she shouts to my mother. “We’re about to take the bridal business by storm!”

  I lift a brow as I look to Mackenzie, ready to call her bluff.

  Mack’s mouth contorts into all sorts of crazy shapes.

  “Knew it,” I say. “The only quirky part of this wedding is me, admit it.”

  My mother steps over and gives a long blink.

  “I’m sorry, Bizzy.” She takes a full breath while admiring me in the atrocity. “But it’s not your big day. And you did agree to stand up for both Gwyneth and Mackenzie. I’m afraid what they say goes.”

  “That’s right,” Mackenzie is quick to agree with my mother’s lunacy. “But seeing that you’re so combative in regards to our wishes, only goes to show how you really feel about us. I’m sure if Emmie would have asked you to wear something comfortable and cozy on her big day, you’d be thrilled to do it.”