A Frightening Fangs-giving

by Addison Moore

  “Darn right I am. I’m still on the hook for the lease for the next eleven months, but if I stop using the funds allocated to inventory, I might have enough to pay at least six of those.”

  Macy groans. “I hate to break it to you, but we share the same landlord. You’re on the hook for the next eleven or they’ll ruin you financially in an effort to get what’s theirs.”

  Georgie raises her hand and nearly gags on the food in her mouth.

  “I’ll take it!” she squawks. “I’ll take over the lease. I’ll open a wonky quilt shop, and I can sell my mosaics there, too. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to fall into my lap and here it is. And it would figure a sassy redhead and a dubious murderer would open the door to my good fortune. Well-played, universe. Well-played.” She glances down at the trio of cuteness. “Hear that, kids? We’re getting the band back together and going into business!”

  “Georgie.” I shake my head. “We should probably run some numbers before you commit to anything.” And I’m not exactly sure who that band consists of either.

  She frowns my way. “I’m crunching numbers as we speak, sister, and I like what they’re saying.” She looks to Willow while hitching her thumb my way. “We’ll talk when the killjoy is nowhere in sight. Word to the wise: keep your dreams to yourself around this one or she’ll take the hammer of her opinion and shatter them to pieces.”

  “Pfft,” Macy huffs. “Try growing up with her.”

  “Try living with her.” Georgie sighs. “And I’m not even in the same cottage. I’m sorry, Bizzy, but I predict Jasper will be giving you the heave-ho by Christmas. The man can only take so much.”

  “Georgie.” A laugh gets caught in my throat, but I refuse to give it because it’s so not funny.

  Fish yowls, Ignore them, Bizzy. We’ve got a suspect at hand.

  Who’s the killer? one of the kittens mewls, and I’d like to know the answer to that myself.

  Willow shudders. “Anyway, I stepped into Suds and Illuminations this morning and everything in that shop was turned upside down.”

  “What?” I all but spin her my way. “What do you think happened? Do you think someone broke in?”

  She shakes her head. “Oh no. It was definitely Ember. She came back. As in her ghost was the one responsible for the destruction.”

  Georgie slaps her hand down over the table. “And I bet she flew over to your storefront Macy and wrote the word killer in red lipstick onto your window! It all makes sense now. Case closed.” She comes shy of winking at Macy. “You’ve got a ghost on your hands, Toots. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you. And maybe bathe in holy water. Better yet, find a cute priest and bring him to bed with you just as a precaution. You throw a ghost into the mix and things are bound to get freaky. What I wouldn’t pay to see that.”

  Willow nods. “I’m convinced Ember wrote those words, too, Macy. She really had it in for you. Haunting you from the great beyond isn’t a total shocker. Ember was determined in this life. I can only imagine what she’s capable of in the next.”

  “This is terrifying,” I mutter to myself. And it has nothing to do with a supposed ghost. Mostly it has to do with the fact Macy might just take Georgie up on her blasphemous advice.

  “Willow, who did you last see Ember with?” I try my hardest to steer this conversation back to solid ground.

  Good direction, Fish meows. It’s not as if she was about to admit to doing the murderous deed herself.

  “Myself, but I didn’t kill her.” Willow rolls her eyes. “Believe me, I wanted to. Ember and I were like sisters. We fought like cats and dogs.” Mostly rabid dogs ready to take one another down.

  Fish mewls again, That’s a fantasy propagated by a silly euphemism. Sherlock and I get along whenever we want to. Mostly I don’t want to, but he insists.

  “You fought?” I shrug, trying to come off casual and not hungry to shake her down for answers. “About what?”

  “The usual—clothes, men.” That witch had such a stranglehold over my life that I don’t even recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I like Macy Baker, for Pete’s sake. When Ember was bent on destroying someone, she knew exactly which buttons to push. And that’s exactly why she pushed mine. And how I hated her. Macy hated her, too. “You know what, Macy? I’m going to buy you a drink. Actually, I’m feeling generous. I’ll buy you all a round.” She whistles as a waitress heads this way, and soon we’ve all put in orders for the same fruity concoction Willow is holding.

  Georgie points over at me. “Make Ms. Priss’ a virgin. She’s got a stuffy and uptight reputation to uphold.” She leans toward Macy. “Let’s hope her husband doesn’t have a stiffy.”

  Macy shrugs. “He’ll be a pro at cold showers by New Year’s.”

  I take a moment to scowl at them both before forcing a smile at the waitress.

  “I’m sensitive to alcohol.” I nod as she takes off with a wink. It’s true. Liquor might be quicker, but for someone endowed with telesensual powers, it’s the quickest way to lose my mind—by way of reading a thousand others all at once. “Willow was anyone angry with Ember? Outside of Macy, of course.” I shoot a look to my sister.

  Macy certainly knows how to make herself look guilty.

  “Who was angry with her? Lots of people.” Willow takes a breath. Me for one. I was furious, but that’s thankfully in the past now. “Let’s see, Marigold and Ember were pretty close, but you could sense some tension there. Obviously Hunter. He was about to blow a hole through the roof just a few days before we opened.”

  “Who’s Hunter?” I ask, trying to place the name with a face, but I’m coming up empty. “I thought her boyfriend’s name was Flint?”

  “It is.” She nods. “Hunter was her ex. They dated on and off for a few years, and things sort of came to an end about six months ago. He was a lawyer, but I don’t think he does that anymore. Or was he a stockbroker?” She taps her chin with her finger. “Whatever he was, he was very, very angry. I thought he was going to kill her last summer the way those two were ranting at one another. And then there’s Flint. He’s the one with the cheesy politician smile. His career is finally kicking off. But if you ask me, I think he was about to kick Ember to the curb. Toward the end, something didn’t feel right whenever the two of them were in the same room.”

  Macy clears her throat as she checks her phone. “Would you look at the time? I’ve got a date in less than fifteen minutes.” She taps away at the screen. “I’m going to ask him to pick me up right here. I’d better get to the restroom and spruce myself up.” She riffles through her purse quickly before glancing our way. “Any of you ladies have a razor I can borrow? I seem to be all out.”

  “A razor?” I gape at my sister as I try to wrap my mind around why she feels the need for shaving speed—here of all places.

  Both Willow and Georgie do a quick check of their bags. Willow comes up with a toothbrush, and Georgie is the first to slide a bubblegum pink razor across the table as if it was a trophy.

  “Oh, thank God.” She cinches her purse to her shoulder. “Willow, we’ll get together and talk about that inventory. You do have top-of-the-line products, but seeing they have the patina of death on them, I’ll be expecting a deep discount.” She looks to Georgie and me. “And I’ll see you girls tomorrow.” She takes off, and a thought hits me.

  “Macy, you drove!” I call out after her, but it’s too late. She’s gone. I turn back to Willow. “All right,” I snip without meaning to. “Willow, I know you’re hiding something. What was going on with you and Ember? You might be putting up a front, but I can tell you’re furious with her. I’m good at reading faces.”

  “Yeah,” Georgie spouts off. “And she’s even better at reading minds.”

  Willow chuckles as I widen my eyes at Georgie.

  “You’re right, Bizzy. I wasn’t thrilled with her. I poured all of my life savings into opening up a store I wasn’t even interested in. I had to borrow from my grandmother.” Worse yet, I had to lie and
tell her I was headed to nursing school with the money. It’s what I’ve always wanted. It was my dream, but Ember wasn’t having it.

  I blink back. Something isn’t right. How could Ember make her give up her dream?

  “Willow, if Macy doesn’t buy all of your inventory, I’ll take what she doesn’t for the spa at the inn. In fact, why don’t you come down anytime you want. You can have a full treatment on me.”

  “Really?” She presses a hand to her chest. “Expect to see me sooner than later.” She knocks back the rest of her drink. “Great seeing you ladies.” She points over at Georgie. “You and those crooked blankets are going to go far.”

  “Wonky quilts!” she shouts up over the music as Willow disappears into the crowd.

  My stomach growls like a bear, and I’m about to head to the buffet just as a tall, dark, and dangerously sexy homicide detective steps before me.

  “Bizzy Baker Wilder.” Jasper does his best to frown, but there’s a smile rising on the corners of his lips. “How did I know I’d find you here?”

  I cringe a little. “Because you figured out exactly where Willow Taylor spends her free time?”

  He nods. “And I had a sneaking suspicion you’d be spending yours here as well.” He glances down at the tote bag wiggling by my side. “Is that Fish?”

  Georgie honks out a laugh. “Have cat will travel. Get a load of these, Wilder.” She unzips the top of the mesh compartment she has the kittens locked up in, and one right after the other jumps out, into her food before landing on the floor and darting away into the crowd.

  “Oh my God! The kittens!” I shout in horror. And no sooner do the three of us go in three different directions to look for them than the entire place breaks out into screams of horror and we hear the words mice, snakes, and werewolves all at the very same time.

  Juni pops up with that tattooed farmer of hers, and the two of them all but knock the buffet over as they struggle to catch one of the kittens trapped beneath it.

  Bodies jump and hustle to the door while those little kittens dart across the floor from one end of the room to the other like little white streaks of lightning.

  Finally Juni manages to wrangle one, but not before sinking her entire hand into a vat of mashed potatoes—honest to God, there was no good reason for her to do so. I’m guessing she was squeezing some food-based fantasy in there somewhere to take advantage of the moment.

  Jasper chases a kitten down at the bar and causes about ten different drinks to sail to the floor in the process.

  Georgie takes off her quilt and waves it around as if she was a matador, in hopes to catch the final little rascal. But it’s not the kitten who ends up running through Georgie’s quilt of wonky terror—it’s me on all fours.

  However, all is not lost. I spot a striped cutie under one of the tables, and both Fish and I trap her between us.

  I reach over and snatch her up, much to the crowd’s delight, and soon the Happy Hour is back to its pre-hysteria madness.

  All three kittens get placed back where they came from. And Georgie swears on her cornbread stuffing she’ll never let them out again, which only sends them into a panic.

  Jasper and I enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner, and despite the fact he’s not all that thrilled with me, Jasper Wilder is very much examining me with a gleam of devilish delight.

  We round up Juni and Georgie and get back to the cottage where we go round after round with each other.

  Jasper and I are good together. And I bet if we teamed up to find Ember Sweet’s killer, we’d be unstoppable.

  In fact, I’m going to propose we do just that.

  Tomorrow, of course.

  I’d hate to ruin the momentum.

  Chapter 6

  “There are many ways to cook a turkey,” Emmie says as she looks to both Jordy and me right here in the Country Cottage Café.

  It’s the morning after the Happy Hour fiasco, and I had both Emmie and her brother in stitches trying to describe how mortifying it was playing the part of the bull last night. Both Emmie and Jordy are used to me humiliating myself in grand fashion, so to picture me on all fours wasn’t all that shocking.

  The kittens wriggle in my arms. I’ve got all three of the little cuties in a fur-lined basket, and for the most part they seem thrilled to be out and about. Fish and Sherlock are in the ballroom—correction, crafts room—manning the infantry of women, the flying fabric, and the sewing machines, which are busily whirring. Not to mention Georgie has a never-ending supply of bacon for Sherlock, and my mother is babying Fish. The rest of the guild is in love with them both and are busy drowning them with attention. It’s a win-win for everyone.

  Jordy nods. “I’ll be manning the turkey fry, right outside the back of the kitchen.”

  Emmie takes one of the kittens from me. “We’re frying them in peanut oil.”

  HELP! The tiny tot in her hand squeals and Emmie laughs.

  “Not you, little one.” She’s quick to comfort the feisty fuzzball, aptly named Spice.

  Jordy takes another bite out of his pumpkin waffles and gives a hard moan. Emmie has brilliantly revamped the menu for fall, and the guests have been enjoying pumpkin spice everything. The savory fare is just as seasonal with its rich stews, chilis, and, of course, chowder.

  And seeing that I have zero survival skills in the kitchen, both Jasper and I are thrilled to have a functioning restaurant less than five minutes’ worth of walking distance. Living at the inn is like living at a resort—a resort who’s very existence rides solely on my shoulders. But I try not to think about that.

  “I ordered a smoker, too.” He looks to his sister.

  “Ooh, that’s right.” Emmie snaps her fingers. “We’re offering smoked turkeys as well. You wouldn’t believe the orders we’re getting this year, Bizzy. And once they taste how juicy our turkeys will be, expect to have the orders double for Christmas. I’ve got a new recipe for the roasted turkeys as well. All you do to lock in the juices is give them an aggressive salt rub under the skin. That stops the meat from drying out once they’re cooking. But before I slip them in the oven, I stuff pats of butter and tons of honey under the skin as well. It adds just enough sweet and savory to every bite and we don’t have to brine them.”

  “You’re making me hungry for turkey,” I say, snatching up another apple spice mini donut, and Emmie frowns at the platter for a moment.

  “I can’t believe someone used my sweet treats as a means to poison someone. If I find that killer, I might just kill them.”

  “Easy, girl.” Jordy bumps his elbow to hers before looking my way. “Did Jasper ever find out what substance they used?”

  “Nope. But I’m guessing that’s the next bit of news we receive.”

  Jordy glances behind me. “I have a feeling we’re about to receive it right now.”

  Jasper appears at our table with his hair slicked back and still dewy from the shower. He’s donned a dark wool jacket with a matching scarf, and both just so happen to set off his pale gray eyes.

  “Hey, hot stuff.” I give a little wink. “Take a load off and eat some donuts with us. What are you doing back in Cider Cove so soon? Don’t tell me they fired you,” I tease. “But if they did, we could always start our own detective agency. Rumor has it, we make a great team.”

  “We do.” He dots a kiss to my cheek before landing in the seat next to me. “But getting fired might have been a better start to my workday.” He sheds a pained smile. “You didn’t poison the donuts, did you?” he asks as he takes up a handful.

  “I leave that fun to my sister,” I say, snatching another one up myself.

  Jordy nods to Jasper. “So what did they use? Weed killer?”

  “Close.” Jasper tips his head to the side. “Strychnine. A white powder that could blend seamlessly with the powdered sugar these donuts are dusted with.”

  Emmie clutches at her neck. “That’s terrible. But strychnine? Couldn’t she taste something like that?”

  “She could,
” Jasper points out. “But if she was gobbling them down like everyone seemed to be, then it might have been too late. It’s extremely toxic and death could occur in minutes.”

  Jordy shakes his head. “So where does one get their hands on this stuff?”

  “It’s a rodenticide. Able to be purchased only through pest control professionals. Used mostly in bait for gophers and rats.”

  Jordy’s lips part. “I have access to them. I use bait like that all the time. I set them under the lawn in various places.”

  I look to Jasper. “That means anyone can dig them up and repurpose them.”

  Jasper’s chest expands. “You’re right. This is anybody’s deadly game.” His eyes pierce mine. “Did you find anything out about the mystery man Willow brought up last night?”

  I told Jasper everything about my exchange with Willow Taylor.

  “No,” I say. “But only because I haven’t begun to look.” I drop a kiss to one of the kittens. “I’ve got too much furry cuteness keeping me occupied.”

  “Good.” His brows pinch. “Because you’re going to need a distraction. Forensics reported that Ember Sweet had human tissue cells under her fingernails and foreign blonde hair on her person.” He sighs as he says it. “I’m on my way to Lather and Light. I need to ask your sister to come down to the station with me so we can run a few tests.”

  Emmie, Jordy, and I all groan in unison.

  “No way,” Jordy say. “Macy isn’t the killer.”

  “Maybe not.” I hold that basket of cuties close. “But she’s sure starting to look guiltier by the second. She’s essentially giving the killer a pass. The more attention is given to Macy, the less attention is given to whoever really did it.”

  Jasper’s phone goes off. “I have to take this.” He rises from his seat as he looks my way. “You want to come down to Main Street with me? I might need you to defuse the bomb.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll text Huxley. No doubt he’ll want to be there.”

  “Perfect. Tell him to meet us there in a half an hour. I think those pumpkin waffles are calling my name.” He takes off for the patio to tend to his phone call.