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

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Raining Cats and Killers: Cozy Mystery (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 17) Page 14

by Addison Moore


  Leo does his best to resist. “I’m sorry, Biz. But I need to rest up for tomorrow.”

  “Then take Emmie to your place,” I tell him, giving him a look just this side of a threat.

  “I don’t have a place anymore. Yesterday was my last day. I turned in the key just before we met up for dinner. We’ll be in the cottage. We’ll take you up on the honeymoon suite tomorrow.”

  You’ll take me up on it tonight if you know what’s good for you. I give a covert nod his way.

  Jordy comes from behind the reception counter and hands Leo a key.

  “Best room in the house.” I’d rather deck the guy than send him up to a room with my sister, but if it spares Emmie from discovering her place was decimated with a freak flood, then so be it. The girl has a wedding to tend to tomorrow. She’ll want her beauty sleep for this one.

  Leo’s eyes rival mine in size. Wonderful. The dress strikes again.

  He looks my way, and a nervous smile swims on my lips.

  Leo whisks her off for the honeymoon suite, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “That was close,” I say just as a couple of stunning women make their way up the stairwell, followed by a couple of well-dressed men.

  Fish mewls by my feet, Here’s hoping Leo and Emmie don’t cause such a ruckus in the honeymoon suite that it throws the sleep study into a tailspin.

  I giggle at the thought just as my phone goes off. It’s a text from Jasper.

  Just got clearance to search Bea Crabtree’s place. How does that sound for date night?

  Ooh. I bet that’s what he meant last night when he said he had something on Kristen. I completely forgot to bring it up once we got home.

  “It looks as if I’ll have to step out,” I say to Jordy. “Any chance I can get you to put up a few dozen strands of twinkle lights?”

  “Between the other six thousands things I need to do?” His head flops to the side. “I’ll have this place looking like Christmas Eve by the time you get back.”

  “I knew I could count on you.”

  And I knew I could count on Jasper to keep me from breaking and entering.

  What a coincidence. I was just thinking about heading to Bea’s place tonight to get my mind off of things. I like date night best when it’s perfectly legal.

  According to Snuggles and Bingo, Bea claimed to have articles and clippings on this Kristen person, and I’m betting she has them safe and sound in her home.

  I may not know who the killer is, but tonight, I bet I’ll know exactly who Kristen is.

  I hope.

  Bea Crabtree lived in a modest home on Huckleberry Drive just north of the inn and inland a bit.

  No ocean view, no fancy big home, just a sturdy clapboard house that sits up against the woods. The home is yellow with a wraparound porch and a small bay window up front.

  We’re home! Snuggles announces as he jumps out of my arms, as do Bingo and Fish.

  Sherlock trails after them as they run around to the back of the house yelping and howling like a band of wild hyenas.

  Jasper wraps an arm around my waist as we head up the stairs. “You know what they say—there’s no place like home. Have you thought about where their new home might be?”

  I shrink a little as I look his way. “You wouldn’t be open to a couple more cats, would you?”

  A quiet laugh strums through him. “If that’s the right decision, then it was meant to be.”

  “Good to know. But I still haven’t crossed Kadence or Arlene off my list.”

  “Arlene, huh?” Jasper hands me a pair of latex gloves and dons a pair of his own before unlocking the front door. “Have you asked how she felt about the cats?”

  “Not yet, but I will tonight. The auction is set to start at seven.”

  “That gives us an hour and half,” he says, swinging the door open. “Do you think that’s enough time to scope out this place?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m up for the challenge.” I step inside and flick on the lights just as the cats and Sherlock run past me.

  The living room is small with simple wood furniture, thick brown carpeting, and an olive-colored sofa and matching loveseat. The faint scent of vanilla lingers in the air, and my guess is it’s coming from that row of jar candles sitting on the coffee table. I recognize the labels, and I know for sure Macy sells those at Lather and Light.

  A small television sits next to the fireplace, and there’s a rocking chair in the corner with a granny square knit blanket lying across it with a set of knitting needles poked through the center and a skein of yarn still attached to it. A project Bea will never get to finish.

  “Jasper.” I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. “This is so very sad. It’s all hitting home for me—ironically in Bea’s home.”

  He lands a kiss to the top of my head. “We won’t linger. Where do you want to start?”

  “I don’t know, but I have a feeling I know who does. Bingo? Snuggles?” I call out, and they both prance right back into the room. “Where do you think Bea kept those newspaper clippings of Kristen?”

  Snuggles turns her head toward her brother with a jerk. She kept just about everything in the kitchen.

  The cats lead the way, and Bingo jumps up onto the counter and whips his tail across a drawer just below him. This is where she kept her grocery lists. And those were very important to her.

  Bingo Crabtree, Snuggles hisses. You get right off that counter right this minute. You know Bea didn’t allow for that. You’re just showing off because Fish is here.

  Bingo leaps down without hesitation. It’s true, Bea wouldn’t have been thrilled to see that.

  “Under the circumstances, I don’t think she’d mind.” I glide the drawer open slowly. “They think it might be in here,” I say, revealing a drawer full of receipts, note pads, and yes, a grocery list or two.

  “Let’s start digging,” Jasper says, and we do just that. “And while we’re at it, let’s go over the suspect list. What do you think of Kadence?”

  I shrug. “Ryan made it sound as if she has a good head on her shoulders. He mentioned she was asking Bea for a loan the day Bea was killed and Bea declined to give it to her. She wanted to buy the nursery where she works.”

  “There’s a motive.”

  “But would you really strangle your aunt if she turned you down for a loan?”

  “A killer usually isn’t in a rational state of mind.” He pulls out a stack of receipts and thumbs through them. “How about Ryan? You mentioned he said he wanted to take himself out of the running for the cats. Do you think he was trying to play the humble card? A little self-deprecation can go a long way with some women.”

  “You’re right,” I say as he plucks a handful of empty notepads from the drawer, mostly freebies you get at the bank and the pharmacy. “But not this woman. He could have been covering—and cleverly so, because I’m not convinced he did it. He admitted those beauty salons his mother gave him are in disrepair, and he said he was able to get a loan to fix them.”

  “And you mentioned he sold two houses this week,” Jasper frowns as he says it. “Did he impress you?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.” I wink over at him just as my hand lands over a stack of papers wrapped in a rubber band. “I wonder what this is?” I pluck the rubber band off and glance over the first few sheets. “Jasper, these are deposit slips, and look at the name of the recipient—Magnolia Crabtree.”

  “That’s quite a chunk of change she’s been dropping into her account.”

  “Yeah, I’ll say. It’s four hundred dollars a pop.” We plow through them quickly. “She was giving Magnolia almost eight hundred dollars a month for a total of five months. What do you think that was about?”

  “I don’t know, but she stopped cold in January. No payment in February, March, April, May, or June. I bet her bank account was getting pretty hungry.”

  “Hungry?” I look up at him. “Magnolia said she signed onto Hungry Fans this past win
ter. She said it saved her.”

  He nods. “Because she needed to replace the money Bea was giving her.”

  “Do you think Kristen could have been a code name for Magnolia?”

  Bingo mewls, I don’t think so. It was just Snuggles and me when Bea mentioned her. I don’t know why she would bother speaking to herself in code.

  I relay it quickly to Jasper and he nods.

  “I agree,” he says. “But I don’t think Kristen is necessarily the killer. Bea had lots of customers. She interacted with hundreds of people a week. She could have been talking about anyone.” He sighs as he looks down at the stack of deposit slips. “I think this case is pretty black and white. My guess is Magnolia’s foot fashion show isn’t pulling in as much as she needs.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  One last cube of parchment sits upside down in the drawer and I fish it out. It’s a pad of paper from Second Time’s a Charm and written across the front is a name.

  “Harper,” I say, holding it for Jasper to see before looking at the cats. “Does the name Harper ring a bell?”

  Harper? Snuggles looks to her brother and shakes her head. I’m sorry, Bizzy. I don’t recall it.

  Bingo meows. Me either.

  “It was probably a customer, considering she may have written this at her shop and brought it home with her,” I say. “I’ll ask Arlene if the name sounds familiar.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s give the rest of the place a once-over and get back to the inn. I wanted to have a chat with Leo and see how he’s feeling about the big day.”

  “He’s home.” I wrinkle my nose. “Sort of.” I tell him all about Emmie’s flooded cottage and the fact I’m keeping this tidbit from them as long as I can.

  Jasper blows out a breath. “Ophelia strikes again.”

  “That’s what I said. But don’t say a word to Leo—or think it. The last thing I want to do is stress them out before the wedding.”

  We give Bea’s place a last once-over, collect our furry friends, and walk out the door.

  Magnolia Crabtree has a lot of explaining to do.

  And unfortunately, she’ll have to do it down at the Seaview Sheriff’s Department.

  My phone pings, and I glance down to see a text from Nessa.

  BIG emergency at the inn! Get down here asap!

  And that’s exactly what Jasper and I do.

  Chapter 15

  Big emergency is an understatement. Jasper and I head back onto the property, only to find dozens of sheriff’s department cruisers with their lights cutting through the dark like a seizure.

  We park at the cottage, and I tell Sherlock and the cats to stay put on the porch until I deem it safe.

  “Jasper, it looks as if a massacre occurred,” I say as we pick up the pace and run into a crowd of deputies.

  Jasper flashes his badge at the first deputies we see. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Big bust,” one of them says. “It’s the prostitution ring we’ve been watching.”

  “What?” I shout so loud half the deputies reach for their weapon.

  I push through the tangle of bodies and make my way into the crowded lobby filled with deputies along with partially clad men and women in handcuffs.

  “Bizzy!” Nessa runs this way with her eyes wide with horror and Grady right beside her. “Oh, thank God you’re here. They just ran up the stairs and started banging on the doors.”

  “That’s right.” Grady nods to the stairwell. “They must have dragged down two dozen people, and there’s still more coming.”

  A woman shouting obscenities at the deputies catches my ear, and I turn to find Cynthia Liberty with her hands behind her back, tethered in cuffs, her clothes in disarray, and her blonde hair tousled.

  “Cynthia,” I hiss her way. “What’s going on? Is this some sort of misunderstanding with the sleep study?”

  “It is!” she shouts as the deputy holding onto her shoulders navigates her to the door.

  “I’m the owner of the inn,” I say as I jump in front of both Cynthia and the deputy and block their path. “What’s going on here?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.” The deputy shakes his head my way. “There’s been no misunderstanding. The sleep study is a front Ms. Liberty has used before. She’s been breaking the law for years. No sooner does law enforcement get close than she closes up shop and finds somewhere else to conduct business.”

  My mouth falls open as I look to her. “And you found my poor inn?”

  She cringes a moment. “I’m sorry, Bizzy. I feel bad, I really do. But if you act fast, there’s probably still time to bill my credit card before they freeze my account!” she shouts as she’s shoved out the front door.

  Jasper runs up and blows out a breath. “I’m sorry. I had no idea the department had a taskforce targeting the inn. I just spoke to the sheriff outside, and he said he didn’t know I lived on the grounds or that my wife owns the inn. He gives his sincerest apology. He said they couldn’t notify the owner of the inn because they couldn’t risk compromising the integrity of the operation.”

  “Wonderful,” I growl just as someone shouts my name and Jasper’s from the door.

  We look that way, and a collective groan comes from us.

  Scantily dressed, hair mussed, cuffed, and looking as desperate as can be are both Emmie and Leo.

  “Whoa,” Jasper roars as we make our way over. “Let them go,” Jasper commands the deputies that are navigating them right out of the inn.

  “No can do, Detective,” says the deputy holding Leo steady. “We’ve got a direct order to haul down anyone who was in one of the rooms Ms. Liberty blocked off. Leo’s already told me off ten times. I’m just following orders.” He gives Leo a mournful smile. “As soon as you’re processed, I’m sure they’ll let you go. The hooker, I’m not so sure about.”

  Emmie gasps. “He just called me a hooker!”

  They’re hustled outside, and Jasper and I follow.

  “Bizzy!” Emmie turns my way, and for as long as I live, I won’t forget the look of stunned rage on her face. “I can’t go to prison on prostitution charges! It’s the night before my wedding!”

  They’re both stuffed into the back of a cruiser and whisked off into the night, along with an endless parade of other vehicles.

  Jasper pulls me in a moment. “I’d better get down to Seaview and help straighten this mess out.”

  “Thank you.” I give a dizzying glance around at the guests huddled along the walkways. “I’d better do some damage control. Please call me as soon as this nightmare is over for them. I feel terrible.”

  Jasper and I split ways, and I quickly send a dozen cookies to each guest’s room, along with a note apologizing for the kerfuffle without actually saying what the kerfuffle was.

  Good grief, if word gets out I’m running a brothel, I won’t have to worry about being in the red. I’ll be run right out of Cider Cove—and most likely Maine.

  Less than an hour later, the last deputy has left, and the staff and I have managed to calm everyone down. I do a quick check of my emails and messages to make sure nothing has gone wrong with the cake, the flowers, or anything else that has to do with the wedding, and it looks as if everything is still on track for tomorrow despite the fact we’re delinquent one bride and groom.

  This is all that silly dress’ fault. And technically, I could drill down the blame one notch deeper and pin this entire fiasco on my shoulders. Emmie was perfectly content wearing something out of her closet. I should have left well enough alone.

  Who cares if she wanted to put a blindfold on and play Pin the Tail on the Dress with the biggest moment of her life?

  Teaches me to interfere.

  My phone pings, and it’s a message from Arlene.

  Just in case you haven’t left yet, could I trouble you to bring another platter of those butterscotch cookies? The auction is just starting to take off, and I think the guests would love it. I can’t believe this is the last nig
ht this place will be open. I’m already teary-eyed. See you soon!

  The auction.

  A heavy breath expires from me.

  Honestly? I could use a breather outside of these walls.

  I quickly put together a platter of cookies, feed, and collect my furry menagerie, and since it’s a warm balmy night, we decide to walk down the street to Bea’s old shop.

  After what just transpired at the inn, this night can only go up from here.

  A jag of lightning cuts across the sky like a broken mirror. A crackle of thunder goes off overhead like the growl of a celestial cat. And a boil of clouds moves over the inn at a haunting pace as raindrops begin to drop onto the ground.

  On second thought, I’ll drive.

  Chapter 16

  “A prostitution ring?” Mom balks as Brennan looks mortified to be anywhere near me.

  As soon as I stepped into the crowded thrift shop, I spotted Georgie, Macy, and my mother near the entrance, each with a shopping cart already brimming with some of the goodies that aren’t up for auction.

  Fish, Snuggles, Bingo, and Sherlock quickly took off to run wild while I filled Georgie, my mother, poor Brennan, and my sister in on everything that had just happened. I don’t see the point in hiding it.

  Second Time’s a Charm is swimming with bodies as people quickly scoop up what they can one final time. The auction tables are laid out on the right side of the store, and they contain only the choicest items. There’s a big sign up above the registers that reads, Everything must go, all proceeds go straight to the Cider Cove Animal Shelter. We love and miss you, Bea Crabtree. Thank you for all the years of service.

  Macy gasps with delight. “You mean there was no sleep study?”

  Georgie gravels out a husky laugh. “Sounds like there wasn’t a whole lot of sleeping going on.”

  “No, there wasn’t.” I sigh. “Anyway, we’re still on for the wedding tomorrow, so long as Emmie and Leo get out of their holding cells in time.”

  “What?” Mom squawks. “Oh, for the love of all things, I need to call her mother. The poor thing must be frantic.” She looks to Brennan. “Would you mind taking these purchases up front and paying for them? I’ll meet you out in the car.”

 

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