Dog Days of Murder (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 2)

by Addison Moore

  Don’t let her near him, Bizzy. She’s bound to cast a spell on him.

  Ginger purrs, “He’s got that naughty haughty gleam in his eyes every time he looks at me, and I just melt right into a puddle.”

  I know exactly what she’s talking about because he happens to melt me the same way. But what Ginger doesn’t realize is that Jasper is simply being himself. He can’t help it if he’s arrestingly handsome. Ironic, since he does walk around with a set of shiny bracelets to do just that—arrest.

  “Anyway”—she points to Emmie—“two dozen of those pumpkin spell mini muffins, please.”

  Spell? Fish perks an ear up. I knew it. She’s trying to cast a pox over your man. Don’t give her anything delicious to take with her.

  Emmie shrugs over at me. “Two dozen mini muffins coming right up.” She takes off.

  “I spoke to Nessa this morning.” I offer a forlorn smile.

  “You did?” Ginger looks aghast as if I just told her I went to the morgue and spoke to Shelby herself.

  I nod. “She sounded absolutely miserable. She’s convinced she’s going to spend the rest of her life behind bars.”

  Ginger scoffs. “As she should. People can’t just get away with murder these days.”

  Especially not Nessa. Nope. That little beanpole is going to fry for this one.

  I feel terrible that she thinks Nessa did this. That just about everyone thinks Nessa did this. I seem to be the only one that’s not convinced. But I decide to drop it for now.

  “Back to the party,” I start. “Since you’ve kindly opened the doors, how about you write up a cute little invite that I can share with the guests of the inn? I know a lot of them are your fans and they’d appreciate having you personally invite them to the party. Maybe you could start it off with it will be a dark and stormy night. Or once upon a cursed night in Cider Cove, or—”

  She waves me off. “Please. I couldn’t write my way out of a paper bag. Just send a mass text with the time and place. That’s all I’ve done so far, and all of my fans will be there. We can call it something cute like the Monster Mash. Can’t wait until Detective Wilder sees me in my barely-there bunny costume. I have a feeling my night is going to be a real scream, if you know what I mean.”

  Emmie pops up with a box of those mini muffins, and Ginger is quick to pay her.

  She leans my way. “Wish me luck.” She takes off before I can say another word.

  Fish swipes the air in her direction. Let me go, Bizzy. I’ll have Sherlock bite her ankles on the way out.

  “How very catty,” I say. “I think I like this side of you,” I whisper to my sweet kitten just as she jumps out of my arms and scampers for the reception area.

  Georgie crops up, wagging my phone. “I found her, Bizzy. I found her!”

  “Found who?”

  “The girl with the twins. She’s a part of some moms group. Mama Bears of Edison. I joined the group and they just let me in. They’re having a play date at the Haunted Harvest Festival today. They’ve already been there for an hour. We need to leave pronto!” She pulls me toward the door.

  “Emmie, will you keep an eye on things? I’ll be right back!”

  “You bet. Just go!” Emmie waves us off just as Macy catches up to us.

  My sister links her arm to mine. “The two of you aren’t having fun without me. Georgie and I will go on one of those haunted hayrides while you wrestle with the perpetrator.”

  “I’ve been dying to go on that haunted hayride,” I say.

  Macy shrugs. “Well, if you’re lucky, she’ll kill you and you can haunt the ride yourself.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  I’m pretty sure Sarah Abernathy isn’t the killer.

  But her husband?

  He’s another haunted story altogether.

  Chapter 16

  A canopy of thick, dark clouds hangs heavy over the Haunted Harvest Festival.

  Both Macy and Georgie pull their coats tight as we brave the chill while making our way into the thick of the festival. There’s a midway rife with games and adorable stuffed pumpkins of every shape and size as prizes, along with stuffed ghosts and witches and goblins and scarecrows. The line for hot apple cider is long enough to make you think twice, and I note the pumpkin patch is beginning to look scarce of its cheery orange globes as the month wears on.

  I’ve brought both Sherlock and Peanut with me, as a sort of double-barreled ammunition. Dogs are typically considered to be chick magnets—and that will be great if I can get one chick in particular to magnetize toward me—Sarah, and if not her, I’m really hoping her boys will be drawn to them, and perfectly distracted while I grill their mother on whether or not their father could be a killer.

  Sherlock tugs at the leash. There’s a giant cat over there, and it’s grinning at me, Bizzy! I think it’s eating children by the dozen.

  I glance to where his nose is pointed, and sure enough there just so happens to be a giant bounce house in the shape of a black cat currently being enjoyed by what looks like far too many children.

  Peanut barks at the oversized balloon. Kids are screaming and trying to hop on out! We need to rescue them, Bizzy. Let’s go now.

  “Now that’s quite a bounce house,” I say to the paranoid pooches while trying not to sound like an insane person to my sister. Georgie knows all about my so-called insanity, and she often begs me to tell her what the animals are thinking.

  Macy moans as a kid walks by holding a candy apple that looks as if it were rolled in marshmallows and chocolate covered candies in a rainbow of colors.

  “I need one of those devilish treats in my stomach like yesterday.” Macy plucks off her white knit gloves. “Who’s in?”

  “Me!” Georgie wails while raising her hand to the sky. “Oh, I want twelve. They’re so adorable. And that way I can have a few for later.” She winks my way. “I’m hoping a very special trick-or-treater will haunt my halls on Halloween Eve. I plan on picking me up one of those rich hotties at the party Saturday night and taking him home with me. And all I have to feed company is broken glass.”

  Macy grunts, “I’ve met the men you’ve brought back to your place, Georgie. I’m pretty sure they survive off a steady diet of broken glass.”

  Georgie makes a face. “More like broken hearts.”

  Macy cinches her purse over her shoulder. “We’ll catch you later, Bizzy. We’re going to stuff our faces before we puke it all up on the hayride. Try not to end up dead. It’s going to be murder rounding up the dogs in this crowd, and I’m sort of growing attached to the little one.”

  I wrinkle my nose at my cheeky sister. “I’ll do my best to keep breathing. Keep your phones on just in case.”

  They take off running—literally.

  Apparently, you’re never too old to race to the candy apple stand. But, in their defense, they are gourmet candy apples and I’m eyeing them myself.

  Sherlock leads the way to the bounce house, both agitated and excited to see what all the screaming is about.

  “No biting, no barking,” I sing. “Remember, they’re just little boys. They like to play as much as you do.”

  Peanut wags his tail and tongue. I hope they’re just as big as Fish. I like to catch her between my paws.

  “I’m guessing they’re a little bit bigger than that.”

  I stop cold as I spot a group of mothers gathered just shy of the bounce house, and I recognize the blonde with a pixie cut from the pictures of Luke and his bride on the internet. Her face is set in a scowl as she listens to the other women in her circle.

  A child slips out of the giant cat’s maw, and two of the mothers run in that direction.

  Now it’s just Sarah and a younger girl who looks bored silly sitting next to her.

  I make my way over.

  “Hey,” I say as I point to the bale of hay to the left of them. “Mind if I take a seat?”

  The younger girl stands. “Go right ahead. I was just about to get something to eat.” Like
six of those candy apples. If I see another one go by, I’m liable to pluck it right out of a stranger’s hand. “You want anything, Sarah?”

  “No”—the blonde smiles up at her—“but I’ll watch the girls for you.”

  Oh, thank God. The girl gives a friendly wave. A minute without the kids. I think I’ll buy myself a bouquet of churros to celebrate.

  Perfect.

  I take a seat right next to Sarah, and Sherlock pops up next to me, demanding her attention.

  I like this one, Bizzy. Sherlock whimpers and pants while blinking those large brown eyes at her.

  Peanut wiggles his way into the mix and wags his stubby little tail back and forth until the two of us share a laugh.

  Sarah’s whole face brightens at the sight of the friendly dogs I’ve schlepped along for the ride.

  “Well, aren’t the two of you handsome.” She gives both Sherlock and Peanut a quick pat on the head. “Are they boys? I just assume everything is a male these days. I have twin boys, so my world is pretty blue.” She laughs and I can’t help but note how pretty and sweet she seems. There’s an air of innocence about her that some people just seem to exude and she’s definitely one of them.

  “That they are. This is Sherlock and that’s Peanut. They’re friendly, too. So I’m sure they wouldn’t mind your boys one bit.”

  “Good thing.” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “As soon as my boys spot them, these puppies are pretty much doomed.”

  “My husband loves dogs, too,” I say, lying through my teeth about having one of those matrimonially bound creatures. For a brief moment, I envision myself walking down the aisle of Cider Cove Covenant Church and seeing Jasper looking lethally handsome in a three-piece suit. Every last bit of me demands that my imagination races ahead to the wedding night, but I’m quick to shake all thoughts of the dapper detective out of my head. “How about your husband?”

  “My husband?” She blinks back as if the idea of having a husband were a joke—and it just might be to her.

  Before she can answer, a couple of little blond boys bound over, screaming as they tackle both Sherlock and Peanut to the ground.

  Bizzy! Sherlock sounds as if he’s laughing, and he certainly looks as if he’s having a good time while rolling on his back.

  Peanut howls and pants and he spins in a circle, chasing his tail while one of the boys does his best to catch him.

  “What was I saying?” Sarah shakes her head as a laugh bubbles from her. “Oh, my husband.” Her expression grows flat as she glowers into the crowd. “Not everyone hits the lottery with one of those. I guess it’s sort of hit-and-miss.” She shrugs as she looks to her happy little sons. “But Luke does try.” A shiver runs up my spine once she says his name. “He’s working two jobs, so we hardly ever see each other. Sometimes I wonder if he’s got a whole other life going on. His work has him traveling, so we don’t get to spend every night together. And, of course, he works late weekends, too. I made a joke the other day that I would have to introduce him to the boys at some point,” she huffs. “It would be funny if it weren’t true. But then again, nobody said having twins was easy. We weren’t exactly rolling in money when we found out. I try to buy secondhand whenever I can, but kids are so expensive regardless. I was waitressing when I met Luke, but the cost of childcare is so much it didn’t make sense for me to leave them once they were born.”

  “Kids do seem like a huge responsibility. I can hardly keep up with my pets, so I can imagine how much more challenging a person—two of them—would be.”

  “Oh, pets are a cakewalk compared to kids. Are you and your husband trying yet?”

  “Trying what?” I blink over at her, completely oblivious until it hits me like a baby bottle right between the eyes. And then for the briefest of moments, I envision Jasper holding a tiny swaddled bundle in his arms, and I’m right back to swooning for that man. I bet Jasper will make a wonderful father.

  Sarah belts out a hearty laugh. “Trying for kids. But I guess you’re not there yet. Some of the girls I know get really into it. It’s sort of fun—watching your cycle, stealing your husband away for baby time. But you better watch out. You could always end up like me. Twins.” She grimaces as she says it. “My father likes to joke we were trying too hard.”

  My heart breaks just hearing her talk about her family. If her father knew what Luke was doing behind her back, I’m sure he’d try to kill him.

  “My husband is a lot like yours,” I say. “A real worker bee. Sometimes my mind wanders and I start to think he really is living a double life. I mean, I would never know it. He’s always out—some nights he just doesn’t come home. It makes me wonder what he’s capable of. What kinds of dark things he might be doing.” A rumble of thunder goes off up above, and it’s as if all life at the Haunted Harvest Festival stops for a moment.

  Sarah shudders as she stares vacantly into the crowd.

  “Luke has a dark side.” The muscles in her jaw redefine themselves as if she were angry about it. “He’s shown it to me before. It’s part of the reason I don’t complain too much about him not being home. I don’t want the boys to see it.”

  A chill runs through me. Sarah seems convinced Luke has a dark side. Luke certainly had a secret—and I bet he was hiding it from both Shelby and Sarah.

  A thought comes to me. Chelsea mentioned that Luke had done something very bad and Shelby just found out about it that night. And Luke mentioned that Sarah had contacted Shelby in the middle of the seminar. Shelby was very angry with him. Anyone could see that. Luke knew his cushy ride at Harris Financial would be over.

  Luke had a very big motive to kill poor Shelby.

  I look down at the squealing boys as they wrestle with Sherlock and Peanut.

  Luke had two very big motives to keep Shelby quiet.

  A couple of mothers head this way with their kids in tow and Sarah wrangles her boys together.

  “It was nice meeting you,” she says. “You know, I actually feel a lot better after talking to you. It’s weird, isn’t it? Sometimes you need to say things out loud to know what direction you’re going to take next in life.” She leans in my way. “Let’s just say, my husband and I are about to have a very big talk. Good luck with yours.”

  She takes off, and I look out at the crowd as the skies grow ever darker. The air grows with a crisp fall snap to it and demands that I cinch my coat.

  I have a feeling Luke Parker—Abernathy—wanted to make sure Shelby didn’t stand in his way. He had a very big secret to keep from his wife. And he might have made sure that Shelby would keep it forever.

  I need another chance to speak with Luke. I think I’d better make sure Luke knows he’s invited to Ginger’s Halloween Monster Mash.

  And unfortunately, I have a feeling there really will be a very real monster in our midst.

  Chapter 17

  Halloween is officially on Tuesday, but this Saturday night at the Country Cottage Inn we’re determined to give that haunted evening a wicked run for its money—or candy as it were.

  “Jordy, this place looks amazing!” I pull him in by the arm and give him a squeeze. I’m dressed as a fairy in an ultra-short lime green dress and tiny glittery wings strapped to my back. I’ll admit, I look less preschool and more reform school with a naughty flair, but I couldn’t resist. It’s adorable.

  We’re standing just outside of the ballroom where the courtyard and the woods that lie just beyond that are decorated to the hilt with what seems like hundreds of glowing pumpkins. Each one of them wears a unique face, some cute, some scary, and some of the happy orange globes simply have holes bore into them. But each and every one looks absolutely magical.

  “Jordy, it’s breathtaking.”

  “Thanks. Check that out.” He nods to the woods where the trees are lit up with enough lavender twinkle lights to give the entire Western Hemisphere a haunted appeal. “We put cobwebs between the trees to keep the crowd from getting too far into the woods.”

  “Webb
ed fencing. Now there’s something original.”

  “The woods look friendly enough, but we both know you can get disoriented in minutes and end up miles in the wrong direction trying to find your way out.”

  “I agree. It’s a haunted maze without even trying.” An odd sight catches my eye—a large pot brimming with pumpkins. “Why is that planter sitting right in the middle of the walkway?”

  Jordy winces. He’s dressed as a football player—wearing his high school jersey and sweats. He’s even donned a swath of black grease under each eye in an effort to go the extra mile.

  “That’s where the body was,” he whispers. “It sort of felt sacred. I didn’t want anyone trampling that area.”

  “Jordy, that’s so kind. Thank you for being so thoughtful. I’ll admit, it is a little heartbreaking being out here.” An icy breeze whistles by. “I’m really impressed by you tonight. And I have to say, I’m impressed by something else. You’re usually the last person to dress up for a Halloween party. I’m glad to see you getting into the haunted spirit of things.”

  “Thanks, Biz. I’m hoping to impress someone else tonight, too.” He glances to the glowing entry to our right as a crowd of bodies begins to circulate inside. I bet she’s in there. She probably won’t remember me. And who the heck cares? He takes a deep breath. I guess I do.

  “Jordy.” I tug him back by the wrist. “Whoever this girl is, she must be pretty special to have grabbed your attention. Take it from your ex-wife, you deserve someone special.”

  We share a warm laugh before heading on in.

  The grand ballroom at the Country Cottage Inn has been transformed into a bona fide haunted house with its orange twinkle lights, glowing pumpkins dotting the refreshments tables with their toothless smiles, and chandeliers laden with spider webs that drip down and blow about like poltergeists with the slightest breeze. There’s a DJ playing a rather spooktacular playlist, and the masses that have already poured into the room are all dressed up in every costume known to man.