A Frightening Fangs-giving

by Addison Moore

  “Very funny,” I say without cracking a smile.

  Macy warms herself with her hands. “Strange things have been happening to me all week, too. I had that horrible message scrawled on my window in lipstick. The items in my shop have been knocked over and rearranged. And last night, my lights kept flickering on and off for over an hour.” She shakes her head my way. “If I thought Ember Sweet was trying to make my life a living hell while she still had breath in her lungs, it looks as if she’s about to kick that up a notch now that she’s gone. She’s not even giving me the opportunity to have a single nice thought about her now.” She takes up two fistfuls of apple cider mini donuts. “I’m going to look at kittens and inhale carbs for the rest of the morning. If you see Jordy, tell him I’ll need him to pull out his ghost-busting vacuum. Macy Baker ain’t afraid of no ghost. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself,” she says as she takes off for the pet menagerie surrounding Georgie.

  Emmie steps in. “I’m going to refill this platter, and you’d better pray there’s not a ghost in the kitchen or you’ll be hearing me scream all the way to Canada.” She takes off, and I close my eyes a moment too long.

  “I’m so sorry, Bizzy.” Marigold grabs at the diamond pendant suspended on a thin gold chain and swishes it back and forth over her neck.

  “Please, don’t worry about it. What can I do to help with this? Hey? Maybe it’s not a ghost. Maybe you’re sleepwalking due to all the stress and you just have no recollection of dumping out your makeup bag last night?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugs. “But I’ve heard things from Willow, too. And knowing Ember, haunting those she wanted to impart a little vengeance on isn’t anything that would surprise me.”

  Me either at this point, but I think better of voicing my opinion.

  “Oh hey”—a thought comes to me—“I ran into Hunter Knox yesterday at the pumpkin festival. My sister is dating him.” I shoot Macy a quick look. “He seems like a really nice guy.”

  Marigold’s lips knot up. He was a nice guy until Ember had her way with him. “How did he seem?”

  “He seemed to be doing well. He thought the sheriff’s department should look into Flint.”

  Her lips fall open. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. Flint is your quintessential politician—with a closet full of skeletons and the determination to keep them in there forever. He once told me he’d do anything to ensure his political career stayed intact. And now with Ember gone, I wonder if he’s done just that.”

  “Do you think Flint had it in him to kill his own girlfriend? Judging by the things Hunter said about him, Flint wasn’t having an easy time with Ember. But to kill her? That would be the quickest way to tank a political career.”

  A huff of a laugh pumps from her. “Flint wasn’t sticking around Ember because he wanted to. They argued more than they did anything else. Something wasn’t right between the two of them.” She shrugs. “I guess the sheriff’s department will get to the bottom of it soon enough. Here’s hoping they make an arrest before Thanksgiving. I’d hate to start the holidays off with a killer out there somewhere.” She sighs as she looks out at the crowd. “I couldn’t sleep at night if that were the case.” As it stands now, I’m sleeping like a baby. I wonder how Flint is sleeping these days? I bet Laurel is warming his bed. She’ll be the end of him right along with Ember. And not a person on this planet will have to lift a finger to make that happen. “You know”—she looks down at the quilt in her arms—“I think I’ll start my holiday shopping right now and pick up a few more of these. You should do the same. It looks like this is the hot ticket item this year.”

  Wait… Did she say Laurel? I bet that’s another one of Flint’s side-pieces. Ember should have kicked him to the curb long ago. Revenge isn’t a real solution. It only creates more problems, and it might have ended Ember Sweet’s life.

  Marigold dissolves into the crowd, and I’m about to join in on the wonky fun when a tall, dark, and handsome homicide detective steps up before me.

  Jasper flashes his badge my way, those serious gray eyes pinned to mine.

  “Seaview County Sheriff’s Department. Have you got a permit for this?”

  “For the wonky quilt spectacular spectacle?” I take a step in his way, amused.

  “For looking hotter than a forest fire. I’m thinking of hauling you in—for your own safety, of course.”

  Fish flits over and practically jumps right into my arms.

  I saw Jasper flash his badge your way. Oh, tell me he’s shutting this circus down. I don’t care how rich Georgie is professing she’ll be.

  Sherlock barks as he bolts on over. He’s not shutting the circus down. Georgie is already rich where it counts—with bacon.

  I shrug his way. “They want to know what that flash of the badge meant.”

  A devilish grin curls in the corner of his lips. “It means I’ve got a wife I’d like to protect from the masses. I was just on my way to track down Hunter Knox, Ember’s ex, and thought I’d take a quick break to see if you wanted to find a creative way to help me spend it.” His lids hood a notch because we both know exactly how we’ll be spending that break.

  “Hunter?” I try to sound surprised at the mention of this name. I may have conveniently forgotten to mention the meet and greet I had with Ember Sweet’s ex last night on that hayride. But in my defense, Jasper and I found a creative way to spend last night as well. It involved some of those apple cider mini donuts, and come to think of it, I’ll have to steal a platter before we head back for the cottage to replicate that good time.

  Jasper leans in, his eyes narrowing over mine. “You beat me to him, didn’t you?”

  I freeze solid. “I may have.” I give a guilty shrug. “But only because Macy was on a hot date with him.”

  “That makes total sense.” He blows out a breath. “Any vital information you’d like to share with me?”

  “Oh, yes.” My teeth graze over my lip. “But you’ll have to get creative if you want to drag it out of me.”

  Sherlock barks. Don’t say that, Bizzy. He’s got a loaded weapon on him. He knows how to make the bad guys talk. You’re not one of the bad guys, Bizzy.

  Fish yowls down at him, Oh hush. Can’t you see they’ve got that gleam in their eyes? Jasper is like catnip to her. And Bizzy is essentially a piece of bacon that Jasper can’t resist.

  Sherlock spins in a circle. Bizzy is bacon? He lets out a few sharp barks. It’s no wonder he can’t get enough of her.

  Fish jumps out of my arms. Come on, fuzzball. Let’s go make sure the kittens haven’t escaped. I’m going to demand Bizzy keep them. They’re almost as cute as I am.

  A laugh thumps through me as they take off.

  “It’s just you and me, Detective Wilder.”

  “Don’t make me cuff you in front of all of these people. Walk at a steady clip and I’ll follow close behind. One wrong move, and I’ll be forced to tackle you to the ground.”

  “Oh, I’ll make that wrong move, all right—as soon as we step into that cottage.”

  I manage to snag an entire tray of apple cider mini donuts, and Jasper and I end up in our cottage in no time. I set the donuts down and give Jasper’s tie a quick tug.

  “Clothes off, Detective. You’re on my turf now.”

  A wicked grin twitches on his lips. “Same goes for you. Drop the stitches. This interrogation is about to go under covers.”

  A dark gurgle of a laugh strums from me. “I don’t think we’re going to make it to the covers.”

  His brows hitch up a notch. “Are you talking dirty to me?”

  “You should try it sometimes. You never know where it may lead.”

  “Okay.” He pulls me in close. “Who’s your next suspect?”

  A smile cinches in my cheek. “You really do know how to get me going, don’t you? Flint Butler. While you lap up my sloppy seconds with Hunter, I’ll be biting into fresh investigative meat.”

  A low growl comes from him. “You’re a mar
ried woman, Bizzy Baker Wilder. The only person you should be taking a bite out of is standing right here.”

  “You are still wearing far too many clothes. Lose them and I’ll sink my teeth in wherever I see fit.”

  A dark smile twitches on his lips. “Flint Butler will be front and center at his very first city council meeting tomorrow night at town hall. I’ll be there.”

  “On city business?” I tip my head with curiosity.

  “As your date. Don’t dig in any deeper without me, Bizzy. The last thing I want is you getting in over your head with a killer.”

  “Okay.” I give a solemn nod.

  Jasper and I get right down to business of our own. We lose the stitches and get right to sinking our teeth in all the right places.

  And tomorrow night, maybe, just maybe, we’ll take a bite out of crime, together.

  Chapter 10

  The city council meetings are conducted in council chambers in the aptly named Cider Cove Building just a few blocks from Main Street.

  The room is congested with constituents seated in stiff wooden chairs, as the council members sit up front behind long wooden tables on a riser that puts them about four feet higher than the rest of us. An American flag, along with the state flag of Maine, sits behind them. And there’s a banner that stretches across the top of the room that reads Congratulations, Cider Cove, on one hundred wonderful years!

  Jasper and I came out together tonight and he helped me set out platters of the Country Cottage Café’s apple cider mini donuts on the refreshment table. The sweet sugared scent of those fresh baked wonders, coupled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, lights up my senses. And to be truthful, it seems like the only bright spot in this otherwise dull meeting. So far we’ve discussed the progress on a traffic light, put out a call for volunteers to make up sandbags for the upcoming storm, and discussed the Founders’ Day parade route that’s to take place on Thanksgiving.

  Altogether there are seven council members, four women and three men—one of which is Flint Butler. I’ll admit, he’s handsome, with his shock of dark hair and easy smile. He’s donned a suit that gives the illusion he has the shoulders of a running back, and he’s let a few self-deprecating comments fly, much to the delight of the audience. I can’t help but note the way the women in the room seem to be ogling him. I guess I can’t blame them. He is newly single, albeit by a little more than a week. But then, he doesn’t look too broken up about it either.

  Jasper gives my hand a squeeze. I wonder what dirt Ember Sweet had on the guy to make him stick around like he did?

  I trace my eyes his way with a look that says that’s exactly what we’re going to find out, or at least I am. I plan on hogging all of the councilman’s free time once this little meet-up is over.

  With just five minutes left to spare, a woman who’s been moderating the microphone for the townspeople asks if there are any other comments or questions for the board members.

  “Yes! I’ve got a comment,” a distinctly female voice shouts from the back. “You’ve got blood on your hands!”

  The entire room breaks out into gasps as we turn to see two people holding up a sign that reads those same cryptic words that look as if they were written in blood over butcher paper. They lower the sign a bit, and I see two shockingly familiar faces.

  “Georgie and Juni?” I say just as a couple of security guards escort them out of the building.

  The meeting is adjourned, and soon bodies are moving all around the room.

  “Jasper, please go make sure they’re not being arrested.” I plead with him, even though I get the feeling he wouldn’t mind so much if they were. Honestly, maybe I wouldn’t either.

  He frowns at the door a moment. “Okay, but don’t have any fun without me. That’s a direct order.”

  A dark laugh strums through me. “I only take orders from you in the bedroom.” I give a sly wink as we part ways.

  Flint Butler makes his way toward the crowd with that elastic smile stretching across his face, and soon he’s met with a mob of women. Just as I’m about to admit defeat, I spot a platinum blonde in their midst who’s busy elbowing the rest of the women off to the side by way of a body check worthy of a hockey game.

  “Oh my goodness.” I roll my eyes as I make my way up front for what feels like a night at the council circus take two. “Macy?” I hiss her name without meaning to as she wraps her arms around him as if she were his bodyguard.

  My sister’s head twitches like that of a cat and her forehead smooths out with amusement once she spots me.

  “Bizzy?” She makes a face. Good Lord, don’t tell me she’s here to give Flint the shakedown, too. Can’t I have a decent date anymore without my sister showing up trying to prove he’s the killer?

  I shake my head her way as if to answer that internal inquisition.

  “Hello, Macy,” I pant her name out as I manufacture a smile just for the politician at hand. “Fancy seeing you here.” I look up at Flint with his wide forehead and squinted eyes that look as if they’re giving out a cheesy smile all of their own. “I’m Bizzy Baker Wilder.” I hold out my hand his way, and he quickly shakes it. “I think we met the day of the Founders’ Day kickoff.”

  Flint laughs with amusement. “I’m sure we did. You’ll have to forgive me. I must have met dozens of people that day.”

  “You were with Ember Sweet.” I study his features for a moment, and his expression sobers a notch. “Actually, she introduced us.”

  In fact, Ember said something to the effect that he was all hers—and his next thought was that he was going to end that not-so-good time, that very day.

  A hard moan comes from my sister. Here we go again. It’s like there’s no stopping her. She’s a force of destructive dating nature.

  Macy blows out a hard breath. “Fine.” She blinks a highly contrived smile my way. “You know what?” She tickles Flint’s well-shaven cheek a moment. “I’m going to grab us some donuts and coffee while you get to know my sweet little sister a bit better. She runs the local inn.” Macy glowers at me. “I’m sure she’ll want to pick your brain about something.” And that something just so happens to be murder. As if. Flint couldn’t have done it. I’m a better suspect than he is. The guy’s entire career depends on living a squeaky clean life. I can just imagine the fun I can have with him behind closed doors. All of that repressed angst is exactly what I’m looking for in my life. She shoots me a look that could boil water as she takes off.

  “I brought the donuts.” I shrug. “They’re the same apple cider mini donuts that the Country Cottage Inn donated to the Founders’ Day kickoff festival.” I grimace as soon as the words slip from my lips because they happen to be the same donuts the killer used as a murder weapon. “We’ll be serving them at the concert at the cove this weekend as well. You’ll be there, right?”

  His affect swings from jovial to morbidly worried as he glances to the refreshment table.

  “Donuts?” He winces. Those are the same damn donuts Ember was nibbling on before she lost her life. What the hell are they doing here? My God, it really is as if she’s haunting me. He squeezes his eyes shut a moment. “Thanks for bringing them. They seem to be going fast.” They were quite delicious if I remember correctly. Ember seemed to think so. I suppose that’s the only detail that mattered that day. “And the concert you mentioned…” He looks mildly confused for a moment.

  “At the cove with Sugar Shack?” I nod. “They’re a popular country music band. They sing that song ‘Your Arms Feel Like Heaven’. I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times. You can’t go ten steps without listening to it.”

  His brows dip low. “I’ve heard it. It was one of Ember’s favorites.” I wish I could forget it. In fact, I wish I could forget her.

  Wow, that’s pretty horrible. I get that he was about to call things off with her, but she’s gone now. Why would he want to forget her? Unless, of course, what he really wanted to forget was the fact he sent her to the grave.


  “There’s a candlelight vigil set for next Friday in Ember’s honor.” I clear my throat. “You know, candles were her passion, or at least they were about to be. The vigil will be held in front of Suds and Illuminations at sunset. It would be wonderful if you could come.”

  He shakes his head as if refusing the invitation.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” That cheesy smile of his rubber bands across his face.

  “Flint, you knew Ember well. Was there anyone in her life she was having a disagreement with?” Such as yourself, I want to add, but I bite my tongue instead.

  He rocks back on his heels and takes a breath. So many people. Where to begin.

  “Hunter, her ex.” He shrugs. “But Hunter’s a nice guy. She took him down pretty hard, but he wasn’t vindictive about it.” Nope. The poor guy was trying to help me get out of that fire-breathing dragon’s way before I was burned alive. I should have listened to him the first time. But no, I had to go my own way. I wanted some arm-candy for my photo ops, and in exchange I got a viper capable of destroying everything I’ve worked so hard to get away from.

  Get away from?

  “I met Hunter.” I give my sister the side-eye as she piles donuts high onto a plate. My guess is that Flint has no idea about the Hunter-Macy connection. Lord knows I won’t be the one to tell him. “He does seem like a nice guy. He seemed to get along well with my cats.”

  “Cats?” Flint laughs on Hunter’s animal-loving behalf. “Now that he’s hit the unemployment line, maybe he’s the one that should go into politics? Rumor has it, he likes babies, too.”

  A warm laugh strums from me.

  For as cheesy as Flint seems to be, there’s something magnetizing about him.

  “Is there anyone else that Ember may have rubbed the wrong way?”

  Everyone else, he muses to himself.

  “The only other person I saw getting under Ember’s skin was Marigold. They were a forced bond to begin with—through marriage. Ember was constantly saying that woman would be the death of her. And who knows, it may have panned out yet. I’m sure the detectives are looking into it. Marigold had quite the colorful life before she became the next Mrs. Sweet.”