I’m seated at the reception desk as Fish, Snuggles, and Bingo lounge lazily on the marble counter, getting all of the attention they deserve from the passing guests. And thankfully, Emmie’s butterscotch cookies are at the other end of the counter, a safe distance from my grabby hands. I’ve already eaten a half dozen, and I’m still craving more. And to my right, Nessa and Grady are giving one another the cold shoulder.
I’ve inadvertently pried into their minds enough to know that Nessa feels slighted because Grady didn’t respond to her latest text. And Grady thinks he imagined the fact he thought Nessa was interested in him. Although he did say he is definitely interested and that it’s harder than ever to be around her knowing he can never have her.
My heart may have melted a little at that one. I have full faith these two will work things out.
My phone buzzes next to me, and it’s a text from Arlene.
The auction is set for tomorrow night. Sorry for the last-minute notice. I’ve been doing a thousand things to get ready for it, and to think I forgot to invite the town! I’m texting Mayor Woods right after this. I’m sure she’ll get the word out. See you tomorrow night at seven?
Tomorrow night? That’s the night before Emmie’s wedding.
I blow out a breath. I guess it won’t hurt to run up the street for a minute. It might actually help take my mind off of things.
I text right back. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“Bizzy,” a chipper voice calls out, and I look up to see Cynthia Liberty looking ravishing in a short red dress and a blue and white scarf.
“Cynthia.” I perk up a notch and so does Sherlock as he bounces around her and wags his tail. “What can I do for you? How’s the study coming?”
“It’s going great. Better than usual, that’s for sure.” She gives Sherlock a quick pat. “I was just wondering if I could make an odd request.”
“Anything,” I tell her. If Cynthia hadn’t booked a block of rooms for a solid month, I’d be in the red right now. I’d give her a free lobster dinner if she asked for it at this point.
She opens her mouth and closes as if she has second thoughts about what she’s about to say.
“I saw that you have champagne brunch on your menu. Would it be too much trouble to have a few of those sent up to each of the rooms I’ve rented? In fact, I’d like to have the Maine dinner special delivered to each room at seven in the evening as well. Bill it all to my account.”
“No problem at all.” Wow, that’s going to cost her a fortune. “There is a ten percent surcharge for in-room delivery, but since you’ve been such a wonderful guest I’m willing to waive that.” Now if only I can figure out a way to get her to stay forever.
“Please don’t waive it. But since you’re so nice and you most likely will, I’ll make it up to you with the tip.” She gives a sly wink. And it will all be coming out of my clients’ pockets. Bizzy and I will both walk away winners. “I’d better get to work.” These shoes are killing me. And the nice thing about my business? No shoes required.
She takes off for the stairs and I shake my head.
“I envy her,” I say as Grady comes my way.
“Why is that?” he asks without an ounce of his usual kindness. He sounds curt, and angry, and come to think of it, he looks a little rough around the edges today. He really is taking this thing with Nessa pretty hard.
“She gets to lie on her back all day if she wants to,” I quip, and as soon as I say it, all three cats roll over onto their backs as if to prove a point. “Grady, is everything all right?” I hate asking, especially when I know it’s not, and I know the reason why as well. But it seems rude not to show that I care.
“Lost my phone.” He sighs hard. “If you see it around, let me know.”
He lost his phone? No wonder he didn’t respond to Nessa last night. This changes everything.
A trio of guests belly up to the counter, and he’s quick to help them.
“Nessa,” I whisper, and she makes her way over with her dark hair wobbling on top of her head in a messy bun. Nessa looks a little rough around the edges, too. “Grady lost his phone. So if you could keep an eye out for it, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”
She sucks in a quick breath as she glances his way. “He lost his phone!” she cheers as if it were the very best news. “Grady!” She speeds his way. “I can’t believe you lost your phone. I mean, I’m sorry. I’ll totally look for it asap.” She skips off to help yet another guest. Maybe, just maybe, Grady Pennington isn’t the world’s biggest jerk. But then, he’s proven that fact a few times in the past. I’d better rein it in. I hate building myself up for something only to fall when I least expect it. Nope. I’m playing it cool. If Grady wants me, he’s going to have to pursue me. End of sentence. Her shoulders sag, and she’s right back to looking crestfallen.
So much for a happy ending, at least this afternoon.
Snuggles stretches to life, and her mouth falls open nearly the size of her entire head as she gives a silent yawn. Did you discover anything about Kristen?
“Not yet,” I whisper. “But I’m determined.”
Fish rolls over and bats her eyes my way. You’ll find out who she is and who the killer is, too. I have faith in you, Bizzy.
Sherlock makes his way around the desk and nudges my elbow with his nose. I have faith in you, too. Can I have a biscuit? You should have one, too. I bet it’ll speed things along and you’ll find the killer in no time.
“I bet you’re right,” I say, giving him a biscuit and loading up on a handful of butterscotch cookies before hacking away at my keyboard.
I look up the next suspect on my list, Ryan Wallace, and his name populates the screen.
Coastline Realty. That must be where he works.
Beneath that there is a myriad of articles and ads for the All Dolled Up salons. And sure enough, according to their website, two of the three shops are closed for maintenance.
Huh. I guess Magnolia was right. They fell into disrepair.
Fish hops down next to me and gazes at the screen just as I click on a picture of Ryan’s smiling face in front of a sold sign.
Let me guess, she mewls. You’ll pretend you’re selling the inn just to get a few minutes of his time. I’d warn Jordy if I were you. He’s still wondering if you’ll make this inn gig work. His words, not mine.
“He’s a man of little faith,” I tease. “But I think you’re onto something.”
I place a quick call to the Coastline Realty office and ask the secretary if Ryan is available this afternoon for a consult.
“I’m afraid not,” the light female voice on the other end of the line bleats. “The entire office will be closing early. Our manager is retiring, and we’re headed out to dinner with her.”
I click over to the homepage for Coastline Realty and click over to the meet the staff page.
“Molly Copeland?” I ask with a hint of surprise in my voice as if I’ve been good friends with Molly for years.
“Yes!” the secretary quips. “Do you know Molly? Oh, we’re really going to miss her. She’s just been the best.”
“I bet. She’s the beating heart of that place,” I muse. “I bet you’re taking her somewhere really nice.”
“We are. We’re headed to Art Deco for dinner. It’s that place over in Whaler’s Wharf where they have you dress up as if it were the Roaring Twenties—the other Roaring Twenties.” She giggles. “The better one.”
“That does sound fun. Well, have a great time.”
“Did you want to see if Ryan could squeeze you in tomorrow?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.” I have a feeling I’ll be seeing him tonight.
We hang up and I put a quick call to Art Deco and ask the employee on the other end of the line what time Molly Copeland’s retirement dinner is set to begin. I’d hate to be late. And she quickly tells me it’s at seven.
No sooner do I hang up than Georgie comes dancing in this direction in a hot pink kaftan, makin
g it rain bacon for Sherlock before she scoops up all three cats.
“Guess what, Bizzy Body?” She winks my way. “It’s time to shake our maracas and give Emmie Crosby her just desserts. We need to work out the who, what, where, and why regarding her bachelorette party.”
“Not a problem. I’m one step ahead of you. Who? Everyone we want to haul along. What? A party she won’t forget. Where? Art Deco tonight at seven. Why? We’re about to have a killer good time.”
Ryan Wallace just might have the answers I’m looking for regarding Kristen and whoever killed Bea.
Get ready, Ryan. We’re about to have a roaring good time.
Chapter 13
It turns out, Art Deco is a good time in and of itself.
There are more body parts jiggling and wiggling on that dance floor than should ever be legal. Who knew our grannies were having the time of their lives way back when? And judging by who’s doing most of the jiggling and wiggling, our grandpas weren’t doing so bad either. It’s nice to see the OG Roaring Twenties live to see another day. Our own Boring Twenties can take a lesson.
It’s snazzy inside with dark wooden floors and matching paneled walls. There are gold accents everywhere you look and large paintings filled with art deco pinstripes and black and gold styling.
The waitresses and waiters are all dressed right out of that bygone era, and the scent of something on the grill mingling with expensive perfume lights up our senses. Jazz music comes from a live band up front, and there is a smattering of people on the expansive dance floor doing some pretty spectacular moves.
And the best part?
I spotted Ryan Wallace right out the gate. He and his party are seated a few tables away, and every now and again I catch him sneaking glances my way.
Jasper and Leo are here, as are Emmie, Juni, and Georgie. Mack and Hux said they couldn’t make it, but Macy raced right over at the mention of a bachelorette slash bachelor party. I invited my mother and Brennan, but Mom says both she and Brennan are still nursing their injuries from our high-flying night at Savory.
Our party is quickly seated at a large round table near the dance floor, and we order up a surf and turf dinner for the ages. Each one of us ordered the filet mignon, lobster tail plate, and in addition to that, we ordered three seafood towers. Leo and Emmie are busy slurping down the oysters. Juni has shoved so many prawns into her mouth that it looks like a shrimp cocktail, and Georgie is collecting the lobster claw shells for use with her mosaics at a later time. And according to these prices, Jasper and I are going to need to take a loan out on the inn to foot the bill. But we’re thrilled to do it.
Leo tried to convince us to at least let him split the check, but Jasper made it clear that he wanted to pick up the tab on everything tonight. We’d do anything to ensure Leo and Emmie’s big day is memorable—even house a cursed dress and mortgage ourselves to our eyeballs.
“Check this out,” Macy says as she shoves her phone between Jasper and me. “The nanny cam is working.”
I can see my living room, and all three cats are snuggled up on the couch. And below them we can see Sherlock, Candy, Cinnamon, and Gatsby running in a circle as the TV flickers in front of them.
We left the Animal Channel on for them, and the cats were mesmerized by the kitty football game they were airing. Bingo said he’d like in on that action. And Fish said she’d cheer the loudest for him. I’ll admit, it’s adorable to see her so smitten. It almost makes me want to keep Snuggles and Bingo for that reason alone.
“Aww,” Emmie peers over and coos. “Look at those party animals. Great idea to set up the nanny cam, Macy. You’re turning out to be quite the fur mama.”
“Was there any doubt?” My sister winks. “Besides, I was practically forced to set up surveillance after I found out Bizzy littered the place with that bad luck frock you’re planning to curse your wedding with.”
Emmie snorts. “That dress isn’t cursed. It’s just something someone dreamed up all in fun. I tried to look up the previous owner of the dress, Ophelia Inkwell, and she doesn’t even exist. It’s all just a gag.”
“Here’s hoping you don’t gag on a chicken bone at your reception.” Juni raises her glass as if she were toasting the idea, and I’m half-moved to join her.
Macy shrugs. “The woman may not have cursed the dress, but just being in Bizzy’s haunted cottage is enough to bring all the bad juju. You’re braver than me, Emmie. I’d never ask Bizzy to be a bridesmaid. She can out curse that dress any day of the week.”
“Hey?” Georgie ticks her head. “Maybe both curses will cancel one another out?”
“Why do you think I got the dress?” Emmie quips, and everyone at the table shares a laugh—but me.
“Et tu, Jasper?” I shoot my handsome hubby a look and the smile drops right off his face.
Leo chuckles. “Don’t worry, Bizzy. He’s still your number one fan. Just today at work I asked what he was up to and he said he was doing research to help out on your case.”
The table breaks out into another round of warm laughter, all but Jasper this time.
He lifts his brows my way. “Et tu, Bizzy?”
Macy’s phone chirps in my hand, and I look down to see an alert from Hungry Fans.
“Macy,” I hiss. “Please tell me you didn’t put your feet up on that perverted Hungry Fans site.”
“I sure as heck did.” She snatches her phone back and taps over the screen before flashing a picture of her feet tethered together with a pink ribbon and toenails painted to match. “How do you like my profile picture?”
Georgie grunts, “It’s good, but mine is better. I’ve got my feet buried in the sand.”
“As they should be,” Macy says, clicking off her phone.
“Macy.” Jasper looks her way. “As someone who cares about you, I implore you to take your profile down. That place is nothing but trouble.”
“And as someone who is not your wife, I don’t have to listen to you.” She winks my way. “Don’t worry, Biz. We’re in the right Roaring Twenties. You don’t have to listen to him either.”
“She never does,” Leo says as he pops another shrimp into his mouth and Emmie swats him. “What?” He laughs her way. “I admire her courage to ignore her husband’s pleas to keep safe. Bizzy, you’re the bravest detective on the force.”
“Thank you, I think.”
Emmie nods to my sister. “So have you hauled in any cash yet?”
“Oh yeah.” Macy nods. “Magnolia Crabtree was right. Hungry Fans is nothing but a cash grab. I’ve already got fifty-two subscribers, and my feet only made their debut less than six hours ago.”
Emmie’s mouth falls open. “How much are you charging?”
“I thought I’d go for the gold,” Macy says, shaking out her tresses. “I figure if I’m going to do this it needs to be worth my time. I’m top tier in the pricing model at fifty bucks a month.”
Juni’s eyes spin like slot machines. “You’ve got fifty-two men giving you fifty bucks a month to look at your feet?”
“Don’t forget my feet.” Georgie points a crooked finger at her. “I’ve got six men and two dogs signed up so far, and I’m a steal at four ninety-nine a month.”
“That’s right,” Macy says to Juni. “At this rate, I’ll be able to pay off my condo by the end of the year—in cash, buy all the designer handbags I want, and a couple of diamond collars for Candy.”
Juni’s jaw unhinges. “You’re not in the market for another dog, are you? I look great in diamonds.”
“Me, too.” I shoot my sister a look. “I’m with Jasper, both you and Georgie need to knock this off before bad things happen.”
Macy blinks my way. “Why are bad things happening? Are you thinking of joining, too?”
I make a face at her. I’m not even going to quantify that with an answer.
“She won’t, but I will.” Emmie raises a hand.
“Over my dead body.” Leo doesn’t hesitate to flirt with death so close to his big d
ay.
Emmie laughs right at him. “Oh, come on. You’re not jealous of other men ogling my naked feet, are you?”
“Darn right, I am,” he says as he plucks an oyster shell off the platter and proceeds to hand-feed his betrothed. “I’m the only man who gets an eyeful of every last naked part of you.”
She giggles into him as she downs the oyster.
“Oh, get a room,” Macy grouses as she sucks down the last of her drink.
Juni pushes back from the table. “I’ve got two choices. I can either belch like a frat boy and make room for more in the aquarium I’ve got going inside me or hit the dance floor and do the Charleston with that hot toddy looking like a snack. He’s been eyeing me all night.”
I follow her gaze, only to see a gold life-size statue of a man wearing a red coat and dressed like a bellhop.
“Juni, I don’t see a man that way,” I tell her.
“He’s right there with the red hat and matching coat. He’s got the hots for me, Biz. And those bedroom eyes of his are threatening me in delicious ways that I haven’t been threatened in a while. I best go buy him a drink. Don’t worry, Jasper. I’ll be sure to bill it to the table. ” She takes off, and I wave a hand at her in an attempt to stop her.
“Wait,” I call out. “That man is a part of the décor!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Georgie says. “She likes her men tall, dark, and stiff. He fits the bill. And speaking of the bill, I’d better hit the bar myself now that you’re buying. And then I expect to find each one of you out on the dance floor. This co-ed bachelor- bachelorette party is nothing but malarkey unless we all get our groove on. Leo, get ready to swing. Emmie, I’ve got something special planned just for you. Don’t think for a minute this tap-dancing show your bestie planned is all that’s in store for you. I’m the spicy yin to Bizzy’s boring yang.”
“Georgie, this isn’t boring,” I say just as Macy belts out a rather dramatic yawn.
“I’m ready to hit the floor myself,” Macy says, stretching her arms to the ceiling. “Come on, Georgie. I’ll race you to the bar before Juni slurps down all the good stuff.”
Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17) Page 12