Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17)

by Addison Moore

  Georgie nudges my mother. “Get a load of this one.” She hitches her thumb my way. “Judging us for helping to buy Bea a shiny new casket, and all she wants to do is laugh.”

  “Or cry,” I say. “All right, ladies. Knock yourselves out. But I’m not sure Arlene is taking any purchases.”

  “Attention!” Arlene shouts. “If you have any purchase to make, please bring all merchandise to the register. The store will be closing in twenty minutes. All proceeds for the rest of the night will go to funeral expenses for the deceased.”

  “Great minds,” my mother chimes while snapping up a few more colorful perfume bottles off the shelf before her.

  Georgie hands me a basket. “Come on, Toots. We’ve got twenty minutes to make all of Bea’s golden casket dreams come true.”

  I work alongside them as we clear the entire store of every container that could possibly hold that dicey snake oil my mother and Georgie will be offering up to the unsuspecting public.

  Once we’re through, I scoop up Snuggles and Bingo, along with Fish and Sherlock. And just as I’m about to step out of the establishment, I hear the laughter of an internal voice.

  I did it. I killed the battle-axe, and now I’ll get away with murder. She had it coming, and so do they.

  Chapter 4

  Summer along coastal Maine looks right out of a postcard, with its pale bluffs, miles of sandy shores, and the deep navy expanse of the sea acting as a divine backdrop.

  It’s sweltering on this, the very next morning after poor Bea met her untimely demise. On her birthday no less.

  I shake my head as I take in the view from the back patio of the Country Cottage Café. Sherlock and Fish are running around by the waterline, along with Snuggles and Bingo. Thankfully, those sweet cats were already more than familiar with Sherlock and Fish or being sent to a strange home would only add to the trauma. Both Snuggles and Bingo had a rough night, intermittently mewling and crying. But Fish and Sherlock were quick to comfort them, as was I.

  Jasper didn’t get home until well after two-thirty in the morning, and he still got up and left for work after the sun came up. He said to expect him home a little early and offered to bring dinner. Of course, I said yes. Not only do I plan on busying myself this afternoon to the point I’ll be too exhausted to think about making dinner, but my only culinary specialty seems to be sandwiches.

  Just because my maiden name is Baker doesn’t mean I can whip up a single sweet treat in the kitchen, or a savory one for that matter. It sort of means the opposite when it comes to me. I’ve been burning meals and ruining appetites for as far back as I can remember.

  Emmie steps out onto the patio, and I wave her over. Her dark hair is swept back into a whippet of a ponytail and she has an apron on over a sundress. Emmie has been working at the Country Cottage Café for as long as I’ve been the manager here, going on a little over half a decade. And to be honest, it’s not just the spectacular views that keep people coming back, it’s Emmie’s spectacular menu offerings.

  “A butterscotch cookie to go with your coffee?” She holds out a plate full of butterscotch goodies my way and I snatch a couple right up.

  “You know I’d never be foolish enough to turn one of these down.” Ever since we were little, baking has helped Emmie de-stress from just about any situation. And as her wedding day fast approaches, I’ve noticed she’s been baking double time.

  She shakes her head as she looks out at the water. “I can’t believe someone was cruel enough to take out Bea Crabtree at her own birthday party. That was a terrible way to go and at a terrible time.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “So was I,” a friendly voice calls out from behind, and we turn to find Arlene Scully with her long blonde hair coiled to perfection, but her eyes look swollen and puffy as if she was up crying all night, and I do believe she was. “Sorry.” She winces. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but voices tend to carry. I was just picking up coffee and a scone before opening up the shop.” She holds her goodies our way.

  “You’re opening up the shop today?” I ask as she steps on over. “Oh, Arlene, I’m sure Bea would have wanted you to at least close it for the rest of the week so you could deal with your grief. You probably knew her best.”

  And that’s exactly why she’ll be the best person for me to quiz when the time is right. I’d hate to use the word interrogate since Arlene doesn’t fit the suspect mold. And with so many suspects that do, I wouldn’t bother.

  A tiny laugh bumps from her. “You’re probably right. But believe it or not, working will make me feel better. In a strange way being busy doing normal things will probably get my mind off of it, and yet I’ll be thinking about Bea because that shop was essentially her. I’ll focus on the good memories, of course.” And there were so may good ones. She sniffs hard as she looks out at the water.

  “I’ll be stopping by today.” Emmie offers, and I blink back at my bestie.

  “That’s a great idea,” I say, marveling at Emmie’s quick thinking to get us back into the shop. “We can bring cookies and Snuggles and Bingo to greet the customers.” I turn to Arlene and nod. “They were wonderful last night. I just know Bea would be happy to know they were well taken care of. I’ll talk to the family and see what their thoughts are on the cats.”

  “Perfect,” Arlene says. “I was genuinely worried about them.” Genuinely worried I’d have to take them. If my landlord knew I was housing cats, I’d be out on my rear. And Lord knows those twits related to Bea weren’t going to step in. I can’t believe I had forgotten all about those poor cats.

  Emmie shakes her head. “I’ll bring cookies. I don’t leave the house without them anymore, but I’m actually dropping by because I’m interested in the dress.”

  Arlene cocks her head to the side. “Which dress? Oh wait, one of the wedding dresses!”

  “Really?” My voice hikes without meaning to. Okay, so I’m a little caught off guard. I mean, I’m thrilled Emmie has decided to get serious about a real wedding dress, but now I’m a bit taken aback she found one at Second Time’s a Charm. The dress is going to have a history. But Arlene was right when she said vintage dresses are all the rage. Thank goodness nothing came of that haunted dress last night. I’m sure she found another one. Come to find out, the boutique was filled with them.

  “Yes, really.” Emmie bumps her hip to mine and nearly sends the butterscotch cookies sailing off her plate. “I’ll be picking up Ophelia’s dress. I don’t care how much you’re asking, Arlene. I have to have it.”

  “Emmie.” I scoff. “You can’t have that dress. For one, it’s haunted. And two, you don’t know if it fits.” And three, you just failed Price Negotiations 101.

  Arlene’s jaw drops. “Ophelia’s dress? You’re serious? Boy, you’re feeling brave. But I’m sure all that cursed nonsense was just meant to add an interesting story to go with it. The dress really is a stunner. A dress like that could set you back a cool ten grand or more at some of the high-end shops.”

  And here we go.

  Arlene shakes her head. “Don’t worry. The price tag says fifty bucks, but I’ll give you an additional ten percent off of that. Bea always let me make the final decision when it came to prices. She was very generous in making me feel more like a partner than an employee.” Her chest thumps as she holds back her emotions.

  “You’re really going to miss her, aren’t you?” I say, giving her arm a quick pat.

  “I am, more than you’ll ever know.” But just the good parts, I want to say, but I wouldn’t dare speak ill of the dead. “Feel free to stop by anytime.” She takes off, and I offer Emmie a look that suggests she’s lost her mind.

  “Are you serious?” I balk. “A haunted dress? For the biggest day of your life? I’m starting to wonder if you like Leo at all.”

  She openly laughs at the thought.

  “Bizzy, believe me, I’m the last person who would be interested in a cursed dress. But I don’t mind the curse because I do
n’t believe in it. And to answer your question, I’m head over heels in love with Leo. He’s moving his stuff into my place right before the wedding so we won’t have to worry about any of that afterward.”

  “Yay! I’m so excited to have you both here on the grounds. Jasper and I will be glad to help. But as far as the dress goes, I think now that Ophelia’s gown has whet your appetite, how about you and I go dress shopping at a real bridal boutique? Afterwards, we can hit our favorite burger place and then lose ourselves in a bookstore.”

  Emmie has never turned down a burger and a book date with me before. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.

  “No can do. Ophelia’s dress is it for me. It’s as if once I saw it, something came over me.”

  “Like a possession?” I’m only half-teasing.

  Someone calls for her from the café and we see it’s her brother Jordy.

  “Em, they need you in the kitchen,” he shouts. Jordy has dark hair, blue eyes, and a reputation for being the biggest playboy in Cider Cove. I should know. I once found myself wed to him. That little nuptial nightmare can be blamed on bad whiskey and an Elvis impersonator at a cheap Vegas motel. Thankfully, our unholy union was never consummated, nor did it last more than a day thanks to my brother and his shiny new law degree. Jordy points right at me. “We’ve got some finishing touches to plan for that wedding coming up.”

  “You better believe it,” I shout back.

  “I gotta run. A pipe burst out front and the lawn is flooded, but I’ve got it taken care of,” he says as he does a disappearing act. Jordy is the groundskeeper here at the inn, and for some reason, I feel as if he doubles as security even if we’re slowly becoming the deadliest resort on the Eastern Seaboard.

  Emmie makes a face my way. “Do me a favor, would you? Don’t say a word to anyone about where I got the dress, or the fact it comes with some silly note. Especially do not tell Leo. He’s already nervous about having an outdoor wedding as it is. I tell you, for a man who never worries about anything, he’s worrying about everything when it comes to our big day.”

  “Someone’s got to do it,” I mutter as she makes a dash for the café.

  Sherlock barks as he comes this way, along with his kitty menagerie.

  We got our exercise in for the day, Bizzy, Sherlock leaps as he says it. Now let’s get cracking on who killed our precious Bea.

  Yes, Bingo hisses. When I find the coward who took our mother away, I’ll claw their eyes out.

  Snuggles gives a razor-sharp yowl. And I’ll spray their face as you do it. They won’t have a moment’s peace.

  Fish leaps right into my arms. Don’t either of you worry. With Bizzy on the trail, the killer will be blind and behind bars in no time.

  “I’ll do everything I can,” I say, scooping up Snuggles and Bingo as they do their best to shake the sand off of themselves. “And please don’t think of doing anything to the killer at all. I’d hate to see the two of you worked up. Justice will be served, and believe me when I say, the killer won’t have a pleasant time. They’re going away for a long time, and hopefully they won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  They all wanted her money, Bingo says as he looks angrily out at the ocean.

  “By all, I’m assuming you mean her nieces and nephew.”

  That’s right, Snuggles mewls. They never hid the fact they wanted a piece of the pie—as Bea used to say. I suppose winnowing down the killer will be easy.

  Fish twitches her whiskers my way. What if they all did it?

  Sherlock barks. Or what if one of them did it, but they were all in on it?

  “Oh wow, I didn’t even think about that. I’ll bring it up to Jasper.”

  “Talking to yourself?” a deep voice strums from behind, and I turn to see both my brother, Huxley, and his new bride—his very pregnant new bride, Mackenzie, striding my way.

  Hux pulls me in for a quick embrace. He shares my dark hair, blue eyes, and wry sense of humor. He’s wearing a dark wool suit despite the spike in temperatures out today, and that alone tells me he’s on his way to his office. He specializes in family law, but often expands his legal horizons when the money is right.

  “You really have to stop playing the part of the Grim Reaper,” he says. I’d tell her I was teasing, but I’m afraid I might be onto something. As much as I love my baby sister, I’m afraid Mack might be right. She could very well be a menace to society.

  I make a face at Mack—aka Mayor Mackenzie Woods. Mackenzie is a stunner with chestnut hair full of a life all its own. Her skin is perennially tan, and she has a face that could easily grace magazine covers. Emmie, Mackenzie, and I used to be a BFF trio growing up until Mack started to hone her wicked side. Actually, I stand by the fact my little supernatural quirk wouldn’t be here without her assistance.

  When we were thirteen, Mack pushed me into that whiskey barrel filled with water. We were at a Halloween party at the time, and I learned years later that Mack had acted on a dare, from my brother no less.

  Regardless of the fact, four things came from that day. One: I have an irrational fear of large bodies of water, and a few small ones, too. Suffice it to say, I prefer showers to baths. Two: I’m no better with confined spaces. Three: I haven’t trusted Mackenzie ever since that day, and I trusted her even less once she helped herself to all of my high school boyfriends. And finally, I walked away with the ability to pry into other people’s minds.

  Emmie’s soon-to-be legal plus one, Leo, is the one that told me that our talent falls under the umbrella of something called transmundane. Apparently, there are many supernatural abilities that fit under the transmundane banner and telesensual, which is what I am, is one of them. And being telesensual means that I can hear people’s thoughts—people and animals. Honestly, I wish everyone in the world could hear the thoughts of animals. I truly believe the world would be a better place because of it. But as it stands, that’s far from the case.

  “Mackenzie.” I force a smile and pull her into a hug, only to have her bat me away, and all three cats jump from my arms with a howl.

  “Would you stop?” Mack dusts off the belly of her maternity dress, a navy number that looks as if she were ready for the boardroom. And she just might be, seeing that her mayoral duties haven’t slowed down all that much now that my brother has knocked her up. Mackenzie comes from a long line of political figures. Both her father and grandfather were once mayors of Cider Cove, and from what I hear, her family has been dabbling in politics as far back as the Mayflower. As much as I don’t care for Mackenzie’s no-nonsense style, she’s been a pretty decent mayor. “You know I’m not the touchy-feely type. I’ve got a meeting with the city council. Now that you’ve killed one of our oldest and most upstanding citizens, I’m going to propose the town does something to honor Bea.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful.” I press my hand to my chest, touched that Mack would think to do something like that. For a woman with a lead heart, she can really surprise me once in a while. “Let me know what you have planned. And feel free to use the inn.”

  Huxley’s brows furrow. Hey, maybe Mack is right? Bizzy really does like to work her inn into these grisly cases for financial gain.

  “And I am not doing this for financial gain.” I glower at the two of them for even entertaining the thought.

  Neither of them knows about my ability to take a peek between their ears, and I plan on keeping it that way. But it doesn’t mean I don’t mind calling them out on occasion for their asinine thoughts.

  I’m about to further set the record straight when a hot and sassy blonde in a red dress and sky-high heels trots down the cobbled walkway in our direction. And trotting alongside her is the cutest, perhaps the world’s fuzziest, white Samoyed, a sweet little girl named Candy.

  “Macy,” I say as my sister, the aforementioned hot and sassy blonde, enters our midst, and I quickly give Candy a scratch and hug before she takes off to play with Sherlock.

  Candy came into Macy’s life just
recently, and the pairing has shocked just about everyone who knows my feisty sister. Macy has never been an animal lover—not in the least. But she took one look at Candy’s sweet button eyes and fell head over heels.

  “Still can’t believe that happened.” Hux chuckles at the sight of Candy and Sherlock running wild as the cats try to get in on the act.

  “Me either,” Mackenzie says, holding her bulging belly. She’s still skinny as a stick with the exception of that beach ball she’s shoved under her blouse—or more to the point, the one my brother shoved under her skin. “Macy, you were the last person who I ever thought would catch Bizzy’s disease.”

  My mouth falls open. “If by disease, you mean my ability to love furry creatures, then I wish more people would catch it. Like you for instance.”

  “Ha!” Mackenzie balks. “That will be the day.”

  Huxley’s lips knot up. “Don’t worry, Biz. I’ll wear her down soon enough.”

  Macy clucks her tongue as she observes Mackenzie’s swollen belly. “That seems to be your specialty.” She looks my way. “So, are you, like, going pro with this assassin gig you’ve got going? Are you taking orders yet? Because I could give you a hit list—starting with our mother and Georgie. That little shop of horrors of theirs is actually starting to cut into my customer base. As soon as a whisper of the fact they’re selling lube crops up in my shop, all of my customers will run right out the door and in their direction.”

  Macy owns a soap and candle shop called Lather and Light. Not only was her business there on Main Street before my mother’s store was even a glimmer in her eye or Georgie’s, but Macy is the one that gifted their shop with its unique and slightly insulting moniker, Two Old Broads.

  Eh, it fits.

  Hux inches back. “Our mother is selling lube? If this is true, change the subject before I puke.”

  Mackenzie rolls her eyes. “Never mind the deviance of my new mother-in-law.” She lifts her chin my way. “To Macy’s point, are you taking orders? Because I’ve got a hit list I’d like to tackle.”