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

Home > Other > Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17) > Page 9
Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17) Page 9

by Addison Moore


  Like I said. Snuggles stretches her front paws as far as she can glide them across the counter. This is going to be one long day. And there is not enough bacon in the world to change this. Get on with this one, Bizzy. Nessa won’t be gone forever.

  She’s right.

  “Grady?” I whisper as I step his way. “You’re interested in her. I can see it in your eyes.” And in his mind, but I keep that little telepathic tidbit to myself.

  He inches back. “The two blondes that I just sent upstairs?” Come to think of it, the one on the right was smokin’.

  “No.” It takes everything in me not to swat him for thinking about the smokin’ blonde. “Nessa. I saw the way you were looking at her.”

  He frowns in the direction she took off in. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “A little. Anyway, you might want to let her know you’re still interested. I think she’s still interested, too. A guy like you can be a little intimidating to deal with. She probably thinks you’re turned off to the idea of being monogamous.”

  His brows hike as he takes a breath. “Well, that word hasn’t exactly been a part of my vocabulary, so I can see how off-putting that might be. Do you really think she’s interested?” Heck, if she’s in, I’m in. My body shakes just being close to her on some days. Those kisses she was doling out back in February haven’t been matched since. And I’ve put more than my fair share of women up to the task, and not one has come close. There’s only one Nessa Crosby. The only woman I want is the one I can’t have. Go figure.

  “Yes.” I give an emphatic nod. “I do think she’s interested. Go slow and make your intentions clear. A little communication goes a long way—verbal communication, that is.”

  Grady is a master at the nonverbal variety.

  Nessa comes back with that platter of cookies just as my sister zips in through the front doors with a bright red bikini and a white lacey cover-up thrown on just over that. Candy is next to her, and the sweet lovable miniature polar bear makes a beeline for Sherlock and the cats as they chase one another in the direction of the library. And on my sister’s heels is Jordy in his T-shirt and jeans, a tool belt strapped around his waist with a hammer poking out of it.

  “The two of you here for a room?” I tease, and Macy’s mouth falls open as she looks to Jordy.

  Now why haven’t I thought of that before? She pulls her shoulders back as she postures at him.

  “Never mind,” I say. “Jordy, what can I help you with?”

  “Me first,” my sister says, lifting her hand to him as she looks my way. “Since Cider Cove has morphed into the devil’s armpit, I’ll be seaside for the rest of the day. I’ve got my staff running the store, and Candy will be lounging by my side. Jordy?” She cocks her head his way. “I’d like a cabana installed near the shoreline, but nowhere near the family section.” She turns my way. “You should look into suing those women who drop their screaming kids off and run for the mall.”

  “Nobody drops their screaming kids off. Those are all guests of the inn. And I like the screaming kids. It adds a little life to the cove.”

  “Says the sister whose specialty lies in death.”

  “Not funny,” I say. “Jordy, your turn. Is this about the hydrangeas I had shipped over? Aren’t they gorgeous?”

  His brows swoop together to form a hard V. “They were before the raccoons found them and ate them. They also tore through the rest of the flowers at the gazebo right before a delivery truck rolled over the sprinkler system, and now the front lawn is flooded.”

  “Oh no,” I moan. “That’s terrible.”

  “That’s just the beginning,” he says. “There’s an electrical outage in Critter Corner, and the electrician says he might need to rewire the place.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “Critter Corner? That place is connected to this place. Jordy, I can’t afford to rewire the entire inn.”

  Macy shrugs. “Run the inn by candlelight. Your crazy customers will love how cozy it is.” She says cozy in air quotes.

  “Until it burns down,” Jordy points out. “And with the luck this place has had in the last few hours, you might want to invest in a few more fire extinguishers.”

  Macy leans in. “You didn’t break a mirror or twelve, did you?” A hard groan comes from her. “It was Georgie, wasn’t it? Last week, she dug three bottles out of the trash can at Lather and Light so she could use them in one of those questionable works of art of hers. You should never have allowed a glass smashing granny to take up residence on the premises. Taking a hammer to a perfectly good mirror was inevitable on her part.”

  “Georgie’s not the one to blame. It’s Emmie,” I say it lower than a whisper in the event my bestie is lurking around the corner.

  “What?” Jordy and Macy say in unison.

  Jordy shakes his head my way. “Let me guess. The two of you aren’t getting along? Whatever she’s said to offend you, I’m begging you to overlook it. The last thing I want is for my sister to be miserable right up until her wedding. The two of you are like family.”

  “Yeah, Bizzy.” Macy winks my way. “Pretend to like her the way you do me.”

  “Ha-ha,” I say wryly. “It’s not Emmie, it’s that haunted frock she scooped up from the Second Time’s a Charm. It’s rumored to be cursed. Emmie asked me to hold it for her in my cottage.” I shoot Jordy a look. “You don’t think my cottage is going to burn down, do you?”

  He nods. “As it should. What the heck were you thinking letting her get a cursed dress? And what makes you think it’s cursed to begin with?”

  “It came with a note letting us in on the fact.” I sigh. “And believe me, I wanted to stop her from buying the thing. But Emmie fell in love with Ophelia.”

  “The dress has a name?” Macy says as any sign of amusement glides right off her face.

  “It was the old owner’s name, the one that left the note,” I tell them. “Let’s hope that haunted dress has done all it’s going to do because nothing can go wrong with Emmie’s wedding.”

  Cynthia Liberty, the tall blonde who runs the sleep study, breezes by with one of Emmie’s butterscotch cookies in hand.

  “These are to die for, Bizzy. I just picked up a box to give to my clients.” She holds up the bag in her other hand. “And I have to tell you that not only are the cookies a hit, but so are your mattresses. My clientele can’t stop raving about how comfortable they are and how much support they offer up.”

  “Thank you,” I say as she sails up the stairs with a wave. “At least something is going right.” I shrug over at Macy and Jordy. “Now if I can track down my next suspect, I’ll start to believe my luck has all but turned around.”

  My phone pings and a laugh gets caught in my throat as I glance at the screen.

  “It’s my next suspect! She wants to meet for drinks this evening.”

  “Booze and a killer? I’m in,” Macy says without missing a beat. “You can pick me up at my place. I’ll need you as the designated driver.” She collects her snow-white furball and they saunter off toward the café.

  Jordy shakes his head my way. “If that dress is cursed, then this is just the tip of the bad luck iceberg. And that suspect you’re about to meet? She’s probably the killer. I’d wear a bulletproof vest if I were you.”

  He takes off, and I glance to my right to see Nessa and Grady schmoozing and looking perfectly cozy.

  Now there’s something good. And I’m sure my conversation with Magnolia tonight will prove to be both fruitful as far as the investigation goes and perfectly harmless.

  The lights flicker in the lobby as a peal of thunder goes off outside, and a gaggle of sopping wet guests run past me on the way to their rooms.

  Macy and Candy stomp back this way, looking like a couple of soaked rats.

  “That storm came out of nowhere!” Macy grouses as she heads for the door. “It’s all Ophelia’s fault,” she shouts as she disappears out of sight.

  I have a feeling we’ll be saying that a lot a
t the inn now that Ophelia is an unwanted guest.

  I decide to invite Jasper to my meet and greet with a potential murderer tonight just in case things go sideways—and not only that, but we can parlay this into a couple’s night once we’re through.

  Meeting Magnolia Crabtree at Savory tonight at six. Pack heat, bring a couple of Kevlar vests, and we’ll call it a date.

  I chuckle as I hit send.

  After all, what could go wrong with having a couple of innocent drinks?

  An image of Bea lying on the floor with that scarf cinched around her neck comes to mind. I’m sure Bea didn’t think anything would go wrong at her birthday party either, and look where that landed her?

  In the morgue.

  Here’s hoping Magnolia can help me land the killer behind bars—even if that killer turns out to be Magnolia herself.

  Chapter 10

  Savory just so happens to be a posh new restaurant out in Rolling Oaks, not too far from Cider Cove.

  And it just so happens that Rolling Oaks is a ritzy zip code in and of itself, boasting more millionaires and billionaires per square mile than anywhere else in the great state of Maine, so as soon as Macy blabbed to everyone we knew that we were headed in this direction, Georgie hopped into my car, as did Juni, and that’s what lands us all outside the doors of this snazzy establishment.

  Jasper said he was still working with forensics but said he’d try his best to make it.

  And strangely enough, we drove right out of that storm, which continues to pummel Cider Cove, and right into a perfect summer evening. If all else fails, we can move Emmie’s wedding to Rolling Oaks.

  Kidding.

  Sort of.

  The building the four of us are congregating in front of is painted in red and white stripes and has an unreasonably tall roofline, giving it the appearance of a carnival tent. Not only is Savory a mouthwatering steakhouse, but it plays host to a posh circus of sorts.

  Juni tugs at the leather skirt she’s squeezed herself into as she looks up at the red glittering sign. “I can’t wait to take me a bite of those tall, muscular men in tights.”

  “Careful,” Georgie says. “I used to travel with the circus back in the day, and some of those tall, muscular men are women.”

  Macy blows herself a kiss in her compact mirror. “Thanks for the warning.” She snaps her compact shut and stuffs it back into her purse. “If I waste the next few hours hitting on a woman, I’m going to demand a refund on my night,” she says, pointing my way.

  I point down at the blue tube dress she somehow adhered to her flesh. “If you waste the next few hours attempting to sit down, I’d sue the designer of that dress. And if your legs fall off due to a lack of circulation, I’d say accidentally hitting on a woman won’t be the worst part of your evening.”

  Macy scoffs. “Is that how you’re going to do in your next victim? Chop her legs off?”

  “Only if the victim is you,” I tell her. “But I won’t have to work so hard to do it. Your dress is already doing the hard work for me by way of constriction.”

  “She’s right.” Georgie nods. “Both you and Juni are strutting around like a couple of mermaids. Look at the way Bizzy is dressed.” She smacks me on the arm before fanning her hand over my pale blue sundress. “She doesn’t care about fashion. Half the time she doesn’t even brush her hair anymore.”

  Macy averts her eyes. “That’s because she’s married, and she’s given up on life. What’s your point?”

  “My point is, the two of you should get your hands on a couple dozen of these doozies,” Georgie says, plucking at her yellow kaftan. “I don’t care what anyone says, there’s nothing better than being able to move and groove in the clothes you’re wearing. And if I needed to, I could outrun a homicidal maniac.” She hitches her thumb my way. “The two of you won’t stand a chance when the Country Cottage Killer decides to chase you down.”

  I stifle a laugh. “Don’t call me a killer.”

  “Excuse me.” Georgie rolls her eyes. “A serial killer.”

  A couple of women walk by and turn their heads my way in horror.

  “I’m not a serial killer either,” I shout after them as they hustle their way inside.

  “That’s right,” Macy shouts after them as well. “She’s so chock-full of bad luck she accidentally kills people!”

  “Lovely,” I say, bypassing the three of them. “Let’s get inside before I get arrested and charged with a crime—slaughtering the three of you.”

  “I’m innocent in all this,” Juni says, beating me into the foyer. “Just let me know when you decide to off the two of them. I can be your lookout.” And that should give me plenty of time to skedaddle my way to Canada. Sorry, Mama, you’re on your own with this one.

  “I hear Canada is nice this time of year.” I wink her way, and Juni howls all the way to the bar.

  No sooner do we step inside the establishment than the scent of fresh grilled steak infiltrates our nostrils while the sound of up-tempo music drills into our ears.

  It’s dark, the walls and floor are painted black, and there’s a red and white color scheme going on just about everywhere else. The main dining room is a gargantuan space that, you guessed it, doubles as a circus tent. Since the roof of this place extends right into the stratosphere, there are a couple of bars for aerialists up about a bazillion feet, and a net just below that.

  There’s a large circle of dirt in the middle of the place with spotlights over it and a trio of posh clowns on unicycles are using it like a track while juggling tennis balls that light up in pink, blue, and purple. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and I can see why this place has been such a hit since it’s opened.

  The servers are all decked out like fancy clowns wearing avant-garde looking suits and short frilly dresses in red, white, and black. Their faces are painted paper white with tiny diamonds trailing down their cheeks as if they were tears—expensive tears. Their lips are painted bright red, drawn into a tight little bows, and their eyebrows are comically drawn in well onto their foreheads.

  I let the waitress know we’re meeting a friend at the bar, and we head in that direction.

  “Hey”—Macy pulls me back a notch—“look, there’s Mom.”

  Sure enough, our mother has a front row seat to this circus, and seated next to her is Brennan Gallagher, her new Scottish beau.

  “Girls!” Mom spikes right out of her seat when she sees us. She’s wearing a fitted black dress with a collar that she has popped up next to her ears. Leave it to my mother to find the one dress with a collar. And knowing her, she’s bought it in every color. She looks heavily made up, as if she paid extra attention to the way she looked tonight and she does look stunning. “What are you doing here?” She pulls both my sister and me in for a quick embrace. “And you, too, Georgie?” Mom looks pleasantly gobsmacked at the sight of us.

  Brennan spikes to his feet as well and nods our way. He’s tall, barrel-chested, has a ruddy complexion and dark crimson hair to match.

  “Nice to see you ladies out and about. Are ya here to join your mother in hopes of landing a spot in the circus?”

  A laugh bubbles from me. “We’re actually here to meet with a friend at the bar.”

  “Oh, you should join the circus with me, girls,” Mom pleads. “All you have to do is just leave your name on a piece of paper and shove it in that fishbowl at the front counter. In about twenty minutes they’ll call a few lucky winners to take part in one of their acts. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  Macy nods. “About as fun as having my legs chopped off.” She glances my way. And speaking of which, I think I’m losing circulation from the knees down. I hate it when Bizzy is right.

  “I’ll pass,” I say. “But here’s hoping you both get selected.”

  “I hope so, too,” Mom says, shaking her fists as if she could hardly stand the excitement. “When you kids were little, I used to dream of stealing you away and joining the circus. We could have been the High Flying Baker Gir
ls.”

  Georgie groans hard. “You had that dream, too? I knew we were soul sisters. It’s not too late for us, Preppy. We can ditch Two Old Broads and take our act on the road. I can be the weirdo with the beardo, and you can be the three-legged woman.”

  Mom laughs. “I don’t have three legs, you weirdo.”

  Georgie nods. “You’ve got a kid who will have a leg to sell you soon enough.”

  Macy lifts her chin. “I’ve never been happier in my life that my own mother never realized her life goals.” She looks my way. “Is it too soon to have her put in a home? I sense she’s a danger to herself and others. And by others, I mean you, Brennan.”

  Brennan laughs, and his whole body shakes with him. “No need to fear, young ones. I’ll make sure she stays put in Cider Cove. That is, once I return her home safely.” And if I’m lucky, I’ll make sure all of her dreams come true tonight as well. Or should I say my dreams?

  “And on that note,” I tug at Macy’s elbow, “have a nice dinner.” I navigate Georgie and Macy to the bar. “There she is,” I hiss as I spot Magnolia Crabtree sucking down a bright green cocktail while flirting with the bartender. Magnolia’s long glossy hair is catching the pink lights swirling up above, and her mile-long lashes look as if they require a zip code of their own tonight.

  She glances causally in this direction, and her eyes widen as she spots me.

  “Bizzy!” She jumps out of her seat and waves.

  “Okay, girls, I’m going in,” I say. “Why don’t you head off to the other end of the bar?”

  “And miss the show?” Macy scoffs. “I came to watch the woman do some serious kissing up.”

  “That’s right.” Georgie nods. “Those cats are worth a million and then some. But then, I could have told you that from the get-go. Come on, Biz. Let’s watch the woman dance.”

  I make a face because I’m afraid they’re right.

  “Magnolia!” I say, forcing a smile. “You look great.” I take in the navy jumpsuit she’s wearing. It’s a far cry from my sister’s sausage casing. “I hope you don’t mind I brought a few people along. This is my sister Macy and my friend Georgie,” I say, pointing to them respectively.

 

‹ Prev