“Oh geez,” Magnolia howls. “Blooming heck, that’s the option she’s going to choose. She’s not an idiot.” She turns to glare at me one more time. Idiot.
I gasp again at her brazenness.
“But”—Mr. Morris nods my way—“should Bizzy choose to keep the cats, she is to donate all of the monies to a variety of shelters and animal care centers I have outlined and she will have to care for them on her own. I have no doubt, Bizzy, that you will love them as your own, however, I do wish for them to find a home among those listed, under your discretion, of course. I’ll see you all on the other side. And if there is a killer among you, I’ll tell them to turn up the furnace for your stay here.”
Jasper groans. I’d laugh if it were funny.
Mr. Morris wraps it up, and we’re all on our feet as Arlene opens up the boutique to the public once again.
Ryan, Kadence, and Magnolia all glare my way at once.
Suddenly, I hold the keys to the kingdom.
And the killer among us holds the key to unlocking this case.
Not to worry, though. Jasper and I have picked a lock or two in our time.
I nod their way.
Whoever put Bea in that grave should be shaking in their killer boots because one of these days those boots are going to walk them right into a prison cell.
Chapter 8
Things wrap up quickly and the trio of terror—yes, I’m lumping Kadence in that number at the moment—all leave without saying goodbye.
Jasper and Leo take off for Seaview pastures, and I help Emmie as she tries on Ophelia’s haunted dress. Sadly, but not shockingly, it fits as if it were molded to her body and we pay Arlene the pittance she asks for and sail out the door sans one haunted mirror. I guess I should be thankful for the little things, like no fear of breaking a cursed mirror and having bad luck for seven lifetimes.
Thankfully, all of my pets made it out alive, including Snuggles and Bingo who are right back in my front carrier next to Fish, chirping away at the peculiar instructions Bea laid out.
“You should keep the cats,” Emmie says as we cross the street on our way to Two Old Broads to see what the brouhaha is about—or more to the point, watch the masses as they claw at one another to procure one of those magic bottles. It’s so hot out I broke into a full sweat before we hit the sidewalk.
“I would keep them in a hot second, if the people who were in that room aren’t a good fit. As it stands, Kadence, Arlene, and maybe Ryan are still options. I’m pretty sure Magnolia wouldn’t want Snuggles and Bingo as much as she’d want the money.”
Bingo sits up. Being in a good home with lots of love is the only thing we care about. But if we do find a home outside of yours, Bizzy, we’ll only go on one condition.
“What’s that?” I ask before quickly relaying his words to Emmie.
“Ooh, negotiations,” Emmie muses. “Let me guess, fresh tuna is a requirement?”
No, Snuggles mewls. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I wouldn’t mind it on occasion.
Bingo rises a notch. We want to visit with you, Bizzy.
Snuggles scoffs. No offense, Bizzy, but he means with Fish. He’ll die if he has to go too long without her. He’s already gone through seven of his nine lives because of it.
“You bet,” I tell him. “You can visit as often as you like. In fact, I’ll make sure it happens. And you’re on for the tuna, too.”
We head in through the bright red door and into Two Old Broads, where the air is chilled, the crowds are thick, and wonky quilts abound every which way you look. Basically, my mother and Georgie have split the store down the middle.
On the right, there’s a sign that reads Ree’s priceless picks! And laid out neatly on the shelves below that is an array of things ranging from candles made of beeswax to bookmarks.
And on the left-hand side of the store, there’s a sign cobbled together with mosaics that reads Georgie’s junk. Get it while it’s hot! Below that, scattered about at random, is an array of artwork Georgie created herself. And jumbled in the middle are wonky quilts in every color and configuration.
But the money, as they say, is sitting up front across the span of a few tables just a few feet from the registers, which are laden with colorful jars in every shape and size filled with Passion Potion.
And judging by the hungry look in these women’s eyes, they’re passionate about getting their hands on it.
Emmie and I make our way to the front, and my mother and Georgie run down to greet us as Juni takes over the register.
Mom plucks all three cats out of my carrier, and Sherlock nips at their tails until they’re all on the floor with him.
Now it’s our turn to show the two of you around our shop. Sherlock barks. Come on, Fish. Let’s take them to the lunchroom. There’s a whole box of bacon in there.
Knowing Georgie, he might be right.
Mom sucks in a breath as she looks to the gown in Emmie’s arms. “Is this the dress?”
“This is she,” Emmie says, letting the dress down to the floor so they can get an eyeful, and perhaps take some of the weight of that curse off of her. Honestly, for all we know, all you have to do is look at it to get in on the vexing hexing action. “Bizzy isn’t crazy about it, I can tell. But Camila just loves it. She might just score an invite to my wedding because of her support.”
“I may actually have to boycott your wedding if you invite Camila,” I say and only a part of me is teasing.
Emmie chooses to ignore me as she waves the dress before the two of them. “Her name is Ophelia.”
“Gorgeous,” Mom says as she clutches her chest.
“Ophelia?” Georgie moans as she takes the dress in. “I don’t blame you for giving her a sexy name, kiddo,” Georgie muses. “A dress this drop-dead gorgeous deserves a ritzy moniker.”
“That’s the name of the previous owner,” I tell them. “Ophelia is the one who left a note warning the new owner of the curse it comes with.”
Both Mom and Georgie let out a cry of terror.
“Speaking of note,” I say as Emmie cinches the dress back in her arms, “where is that twisted little love letter?”
“Right here,” Emmie says, pulling it out of the bodice. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it, but for the record, it’s all in fun. I don’t believe in curses.”
“Have it your way, Toots,” Georgie gravels it out. “Bizzy doesn’t believe in bad luck either, but it sure believes in her.”
“Hey—I don’t have bad luck.”
Mom, Georgie, and Emmie all exchange a brief glance.
“All right, fine.” I straighten. “What does the note say?”
Emmie pulls the note from an envelope and unfurls the yellowing parchment.
She clears her throat and begins to read:
“To whoever dares fall in love with this gorgeous, haunted dream, may you abandon all hope of ever walking down the aisle in it, or soon you’ll have to abandon all hope of ever walking down the aisle at all. This dress was wrought from the depths of wickedness. It has the power to ruin your life, the lives of those around you, and take down your sanity. It is ruthless in its pursuit of abolishing your wedding. The sheer determination to destroy your forthcoming blessed union is awe-inspiring. I beg of you to look away from its dazzling beauty. Do not allow it to beguile its way into the bridal chamber, to form to your body. It will cast a pall upon your wedding so dark and destructive there won’t be a wedding left to be had. It took down my own blessed affair, and it will yours, too. I’ve attempted to burn, shred, and lose this haunted frock, but it’s of no avail. Alas, my final attempt to save others from the travesty, which will inevitably follow, is that this note that must stay with the dress at all times.
“Beware one and all, this dress is cursed. And if you claim it as your own, you will be, too.
“Ophelia Inkwell”
A weak laugh strums from Emmie. “That wasn’t so bad. See there? It’s all in fun. I officially claim this dress as my own.”
She shrugs. “And not a thing will go wrong with my wedding.”
The lights cut out in the store and the A/C cuts out along with it.
My mother and Georgie let out a shriek right before Georgie gives us the boot while burning sage and spraying Lysol after us all the way to the door.
“No curse, huh?” I frown over at Emmie as she holds her dress close.
“Please”—she rolls her eyes—“that was just a coincidence.”
“Yeah? I have a feeling we’re about to have a heck of a lot more coincidences leading right up to the wedding.”
A crackle of lightning goes off overhead, and Emmie’s eyes widen a notch before she shrugs it off.
“It’s just a summer storm, Bizzy. We can’t go pinning lousy weather on my wedding dress.”
“You’re right. There will probably be a lot more exciting things to pin on your cursed dress. And I’m not naming a single prospective thing because I don’t want to give your dress any ideas.”
She laughs at the thought, but she laughs alone.
I collect my menagerie, and we head back to the Country Cottage Inn, dodging lightning bolts along the way.
Whoever killed Bea Crabtree might be trying to dodge the authorities, but much like my bestie, their good luck is about to run out.
Chapter 9
“Why is Ophelia, here again?” Jasper asks as Emmie’s wedding dress hangs like a ghost in our living room. It’s the very next morning, and Jasper and I are ready to speed out the door and head our separate ways.
“Because it’s bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the big day.”
He nods. “So she chose to pass the curse along to us. Makes perfect sense. If I were her, I wouldn’t want to be around this cursed dress either.”
I can’t help but smile at my handsome hubby as I sneak a kiss to his lips before we both jet out the front door of our cottage.
“When are you coming home?” I ask as I give his tie a playful tug.
“Late.” He winces. “I thought I’d do a little in-depth research on the suspects, then head over to forensics to see if that scarf has any hairs or foreign fibers on it.”
“It’ll have Arlene’s hair on it, for sure, considering the fact it was her scarf.”
He nods. “I know. And I’m guessing when the killer swiped the scarf from the seat she said she set it on, one of the earrings that was sitting there hooked on it as well.”
“And the other earring?”
“It was found just below the chair in front of the register. This is a tough one because the store was filled with people that day.”
“But the storeroom wasn’t,” I say. “Outside of Bea, I know for a fact Ryan went back there. And apparently, according to Kadence, so did her sister.”
A soft smile bounces on his lips. “Magnolia Crabtree. She’s next on your hit list, isn’t she?”
“You really are a good detective. Care to give me a hint of where I can find her?”
“No, but if you beat me to the punch, give me a call. In the least, I’d like to hang out in the background,” he says.
“With you in the room—everything else is background.”
We share a heated kiss before he hustles off to the sheriff’s department, and I take Fish, Snuggles, Bingo, and Sherlock and head to the inn.
It’s already blistering hot at this early hour, not to mention muggy. It’s going to be a scorcher, and it’s not even eight-thirty. I glance to the sky and am shocked to see a purple boil of clouds heading this way.
Huh. Looks as if another summer storm is upon us.
We don’t usually get an influx of those until late August.
My weather app may have insisted we’d have blue skies for Emmie’s wedding, but I’d better prep the ballroom in the event we need a change of venue.
“Bizzy!” Nessa Crosby, one of my faithful employees who is presently working the front desk, nearly accosts me with a newspaper as soon as I set foot in the inn. “Those cats are worth millions!” she trills as she shoves the paper my way despite my armful of cats.
Sure enough, the headline reads Closet Millionaire Leaves Fortune to Her Feline Friends. And just below the headline is a picture of Bea with a wry smile while holding her cats.
Hey, that’s us! Snuggles mewls.
Sure is. Bingo snorts. And it looks as if they got my good side.
Fish taps him with her paw. Every side is your good side.
Oh brother, it’s going to be a long day. Snuggles leaps from my arms, as do Fish and Bingo.
Nessa points a finger to the second paragraph. “And it says you’re the queen bee when it comes to making the million dollar decision. I bet that whole family is kissing up to you right now.”
“Not yet.” I glance her way. Nessa is a cute brunette who happens to be Emmie’s cousin. “And hopefully, they won’t resort to that.”
We head to the registration desk, where Grady is just finishing up with a couple of well put together young women before sending them upstairs. The two women giggle to themselves while sneaking glances back at him.
Both Grady and Nessa are recent college grads in their early twenties. Grady is a dark-haired looker that always seems to get the attention of the female guests, so it’s no surprise those girls were giving him the eye.
He turns my way. “I must have sent a dozen people up those stairs already, and it’s not even eight-thirty in the morning. That must be some huge sleep study.”
Nessa nods. “I guess these people are expected to sleep around the clock.”
“That seems odd,” I say as Sherlock comes up and gives a soft bark.
It’s not odd for me, Bizzy. He nudges his nose to the jar of doggy biscuits I keep on the desk, and I promptly pull one out for him. I can sleep all day if I had to. And if you gave me a few strips of bacon, I might sleep through the night, too. Hey? Do you think they’re getting treats for sleeping?
“Sleeping is the treat,” I whisper as I give him two bone-shaped doggy biscuits, and he happily takes them from me.
“You can say that again,” Nessa says as she yawns. “Hey, maybe I should sign up for the study? I’ve had a hard time getting up in the morning.” That’s what happens when you’re up half the night chatting with shady men on dating apps. Why is it so hard to find a decent guy, anyway?
Poor Nessa.
“Sorry to hear it,” I tell her as I glance over at Grady. “So, can I ask whatever happened between the two of you? I mean, last February you seemed to be hitting it off pretty well, and I haven’t heard anything since.”
Nessa scoffs. “Please, Grady was just looking to score another notch on his bedpost with me. And before you ask, it never happened. I put a stop to it before we drifted in that direction.” Dumbest thing I’ve done yet. She shrugs. Although if that’s all I could have gotten with Grady, I should have jumped at the chance. It’s not every day that you have the opportunity to be with your lifelong crush. And Grady is a genuinely great guy. But I’m in too deep with him. The girls he’s used to are just playing the game right along with him. I’d probably turn into a weepy mess if I couldn’t have a full-blown relationship with him. I’m just not cut out to be a plaything. “He’s got ten irons in the girlfriend fire at all times. I’m looking for something lasting, and he’s looking for something that ends in the morning.”
“Or that same evening.” Grady sheds a playful grin my way. I knew Nessa saw me as nothing but a player. Maybe she’s right. But I honestly thought she could be the one that I’d turn things around for. She’s basically my best friend, though. I’d hate to ruin a friendship over it. If she were really interested, she wouldn’t have ended things so quickly. I never should have asked her back to my place that night. I meant it when I said we could watch a movie. And unfortunately, she took that as code for hooking up. Can’t blame her. Usually it would have been. I wasn’t going to race her off to the bedroom. I have way more respect for her than that.
Fish hops up onto the counter an
d mewls my way, Look at these two, Bizzy. They’ve been giving one another forlorn looks for the past few months, and right now they look darn right lovesick.
Sherlock barks. It’s called puppy love. Georgie says that bacon is the cure for everything. How about you get them some bacon?
Snuggles and Bingo hop up next to Fish as they ensconce her like a couple of fuzzy bookends.
Snuggles twitches an ear as she looks my way. You might want to get some bacon for Bingo, too. He’s just as lovesick as they are.
Sherlock vocalizes something just shy of a laugh. You’d better double the bacon for Fish. She’s driving that lovesick train.
Am not! Fish jumps off the counter and pounces onto Sherlock’s back and he takes off like a bullet with her holding on for dear life.
I’m sure she’s sunk her claws into him and doesn’t mind one bit that she had to do it.
Nessa and Grady chuckle at the sight, as do a handful of guests.
Bacon might cure all things, but I have a feeling only one thing can cure Nessa and Grady.
“Nessa?” I bat my lashes at her. “Would you mind getting a huge platter of those butterscotch cookies from the café? The guests love them, and I’m needing a fix myself.”
“You and me both,” she says, giving Snuggles and Bingo a quick scratch on their cute little heads before taking off.
Now’s your chance, Snuggles warbles. Talk some sense into him. He should be the one to make the first move. I’m old-fashioned that way.
Bingo yowls, I’m not opposed to a girl taking matters into her own hands. I like an assertive and confident woman.
Fish hops back up onto the counter with a thud. You rang? She purrs his way, and the two of them begin to wrestle playfully before they hop down and start in on a game of chase.
Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17) Page 8