Murder Bites Read online

  “Nice to meet you.” I wrinkle my nose. “Actually, I think we met at the reception counter. Did you find who you were looking for?” I don’t dare say Lad’s name.

  She gives a reluctant nod. No, but I will soon enough.

  I glance to the door where I saw Lad last, the man Paige was asking for to begin with. I fully expect to see him in a full-blown brawl, but instead the man with the dark suit and neatly trimmed hair is near the refreshment table helping himself to Emmie’s raspberry cheesecake bites, and right about now, he’s the smartest person in the room.

  Not too far from him stands my mother with her feathered hair, her popped collar, and overall preppy appeal. If Ree Baker is anything, she’s a true-blue throwback to the eighties. She’s cuttingly beautiful, ageless in the most literal sense, and a strong woman in every capacity. The men here should be just a little afraid of her. Lord knows I am.

  I scan the back wall until I spot Lad cornering a redhead. She’s considerably shorter than he is and looks to be wearing a raincoat.

  “It was nice meeting you, Paige,” I say. “I hope you both have a great time.”

  I take off into the bustling crowd until I hit the back of the room, but both Lad and the redhead are gone.

  I’m about to head out into the main hall to get some respite from the noise when a short brunette in a neon green dress strides up and gives Cinnamon a warm pat on the back.

  Boy, that chartreuse number she has on is one way to differentiate yourself from a sea of little black dresses.

  “Hey there, cutie pie.” She gives the dog a kiss on one of its fuzzy floppy ears. If you’re here, that means he’s here, and we are back in business, baby. Or at least we will be, if I have my way.

  She offers me an amicable smile. Her nose is wide and prominent, her cheeks high-cut, and she has a squirrely look in her eyes as if you couldn’t quite trust her.

  “So, where’s the dog’s owner?” She bats her lashes up at me as if she were trying to pull a fast one.

  “Lad?” I try to act as if I didn’t just pry into her inner diatribe. “If he’s smart, he’s at the dessert table.” I nod that way and she’s off to the races.

  I tuck my lips near the puppy’s ear. “Your daddy just might be the most popular person in the room.”

  Cinnamon gives a moan that sounds like a tiny laugh. That man never has a free moment. In fact, I was hoping to get to know him better tonight myself.

  A tiny laugh bubbles from me. “I know this comes as a surprise, but I can hear your thoughts and understand them, too.”

  Cinnamon gives a sharp bark. Really? I didn’t think anyone could understand what I was saying, let alone thinking.

  “Well, I can—and believe me when I say, I’m thrilled to communicate with you. I much prefer speaking to pets than some people. And as for you getting to spend time with Lad tonight, I think you’ll have to get in line, Cinnamon. And I have a feeling it’s a very long line.”

  He seems quite nice when he’s not busy arguing with someone. I think arguing is one of his favorite pastimes.

  I have a feeling she’s right. Between Paige’s anger toward him and his shoving match with the man in the suit, I’d say Lad has more than a few issues on his plate.

  An hour races by.

  Jasper just texted to let me know he just got back to his cottage and would be at the inn soon enough. And being the official president of the Jasper Wilder Fan Club, I decide to head out to the front of the inn to intercept him with a kiss before we get tangled up in this singles-mingles madness. This group date with Cupid is turning into one big rowdy party, with both my mother and Georgie leading the pack on the dance floor.

  I head out one of the side exits that leads to an overgrown fountain sitting to the left of the inn.

  The Country Cottage Inn is a two-story structure covered in ivy. There’s a blue, stone cobbled path that leads around the building and circles all the way to a white sandy beach. The Country Cottage Café is attached to the ocean side of the inn as well and boasts of expansive views of the Atlantic from its sunroom.

  The icy air hits me as soon as I step out into the clear starry night. The scent of night jasmine perfumes the vicinity as I take in the peace and calm the outdoors bring, compared to the riot going on inside.

  A three-tiered fountain stands prominent before me. It’s at least ten feet of verdigris copper, and the water raining down from tier to tier is backlit a gorgeous shade of cobalt. The sound of its trickling is a welcome relief to my tired ears.

  Cinnamon begins to whimper and squirm, so I let her down and she heads off for the grass nearby to do her business. And as I straighten from the effort, something metallic catches my eyes near the cobbled path that leads to the parking lot.

  “What the…” I head on over and seize in horror at what I find.

  A gun sits abandoned, gleaming in the moonlight as if kissed by the stars itself to showcase its danger. Instinctually, I pick it up. The metal is so cold, it shocks the flesh on the palm of my hand.

  I turn toward the inn and take a breath.

  I’ll need to take this to Jasper.

  My feet start in that direction, and just as I’m about to come upon the fountain, I see it, or rather him.

  Lying partially in the fountain itself is a man who looks as if he’s fallen backward into the pool of water. His legs are hooked over the side as he floats on his back, his arms spread wide. The bright pink imprint of a kiss stains the side of his cheek, his last kiss. There’s a dark crimson stain in the middle of his chest, and to my fright his eyes remain wide open as he stares vacantly into the sky.

  “Bizzy?” Jasper calls out in a warm voice as he jogs on over, his feet slowing as he observes my hand cradling the gun, the body in the fountain.

  But it’s not just any body. It’s Lad. And he won’t be arguing with anyone else ever again.

  Lad Warner is dead.

  Chapter 3

  “Bizzy?” Jasper searches me with wild eyes as he flicks his fingers. “Give me the gun.”

  I do so willingly, and he quickly heads over to poor Lad and checks for a pulse.

  “He’s gone,” he pants as he pulls out his phone and calls for backup.

  “What the hell happened?” he asks, heading my way. His eyes still wide with fright as if I might have actually had something to do with the malfeasance.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t hear or see a thing. I was just coming out here to meet you. I put the dog down and that’s when I saw the gun. I picked it up and I was headed to find you and that’s when I saw him lying there.” I glance back at Lad and my chest bucks with emotion. “Oh dear God, he’s really dead.”

  Jasper pulls me in and I take in the heady scent of his cologne.

  Jasper is a six-foot-two wall of muscles, typically disguised behind a well-tailored suit. He looks comely to a fault tonight and, to be fair, every night, with his jet-black hair and silver-gray eyes that make every woman in the vicinity—in the great state of Maine—sit up for attention. And as much as I’d like to be doing just that here, he is comforting me. There’s been another body, another murder, and that means another killer is on the loose.

  I pull back and soak up every inch of the man I love—of that man who still doesn’t have a clue about the fact I can read minds, and sadly I was about to fix that later tonight.

  “I’m a suspect, aren’t I?” I ask, sullen at the thought.

  “Just in theory.” He winces. “I’m sorry, Bizzy. It’s just protocol.”

  In less than a moment, the area is swarming with sheriff’s deputies as cruisers with their lights flashing pull up on the scene.

  Deputy Leo Granger jogs out of the side door of the inn, pausing a moment to pick up Cinnamon.

  “What’s going on?” he asks as he cranes his neck to look past us at the cluster of deputies. “Where’s the emergency?” He spots Lad in the fountain and groans. “Not again.”

  “Again,” I say, taking the poor shivering pooch from
him. “Don’t look, Cinnamon,” I whisper, and she buries her face in my chest.

  Don’t worry, Bizzy. I don’t want to see it. I heard everything. How does this happen? How does a perfectly healthy man fall into a fountain? Am I going back to my mother now? Oh, she was so certain I’d do well in my new home. I’d hate to disappoint her.

  “You can stay with me.” I give her furry face a quick kiss before shrugging up at both Jasper and Leo. “She’s frightened. I want to make her feel better.” I wrinkle my nose at Leo. “By the way, I’m a suspect.”

  Jasper nods. “I found Bizzy holding what I presume is the murder weapon.” He glances down at the gun in his hand before removing a plastic bag from his pocket and sealing it inside. “There might be hope of finding a third print on it.” He sighs my way. “Don’t leave town.” He offers a wry smile. “Leo, why don’t you put the inn on lockdown? I want everyone’s name and a contact number before they’re dismissed. Bizzy, make sure they leave through the east exit. I’m cordoning off the area, and since we’re so close to the entry that means the front doors, too.”

  “Sure thing,” I say. “And I’ll take care of Sherlock.” I hike up on the balls of my feet and give him a quick kiss on the lips.

  Jasper manufactures a short-lived, albeit bleak, smile. My girlfriend, the suspect. This is going to go over well at the precinct. I’d better clear her, and quick. But of all the things to be holding, Bizzy had to find the murder weapon. And what are the odds of her finding every single body that’s turned up in the last few months?

  His lips curve my way once again, this time no smile. My girlfriend the serial killer. Now that would be a new one.

  I’m about to swat him when Leo wraps an arm around me and leads me to the side while Jasper gets right to work doing what he does best—suspecting me of slaughtering the masses.

  A dark laugh hums through Leo.

  “Come on, Biz. Give the guy a break. Those were his personal thoughts. You can’t lambaste him for it.”

  Leo Granger can pry into other people’s thoughts with the best of them. He’s the one that told me that we fall under a class of people who hold this same quirky talent. We’re what’s known as transmundane, further classified as telesensual, which basically means we’ve gone pro with the mind reading gig.

  I’m not sure how Leo came about his rare supernatural talent, but as for me, it all stems back to that Halloween party when I was thirteen. It was the night Mackenzie Woods saw fit to shove me underwater in a whiskey barrel prepped for a game of bobbing for apples.

  Four things came from that horrific day. One: I have an irrational fear of large bodies of water. And truth be told, I find my own bathtub a bit too dicey for me. Two: I’m petrified of confined spaces. Three: It initiated an intense distrust of Mack Woods, who now holds a quasi-powerful political position as the town’s mayor. And last, but not least, four: It inadvertently turned me into the town’s nosiest resident—the girl who could read minds. It’s not a title I was looking for.

  I glance back to Jasper. “I’ll give him a break, Leo. I just hope he gives me a break. I’m ready to do it. I’m ready to tell him my little secret.” I nod to Leo. “And if you’re ready, you can tell him yours, too.”

  Leo rocks back on his heels, but before he can answer, a whirlwind of a woman appears in our midst.

  “Camila.” Leo gives a wistful shake of the head. “You’ve got timing, I’ll give you that.”

  Camila Ryder is tall, vexingly beautiful, with warm chestnut hair that rides down her back in waves. Her skin is tawny and her lips are perfectly full. But for as stunning as she is, she is just that wicked. She once dated Jasper. Come to find out, they were briefly engaged, and shortly thereafter she made the decision to ditch Jasper for his best friend Leo Granger. And that’s exactly why Jasper doesn’t want anything to do with either of them.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss her way. When Leo and Camila were dating, she somehow got it out of him that he could read minds. And after coming to Cider Cove, she discovered that I could, too. In an effort to tear Jasper and me apart, she called the feds in to report supernatural activity in the area—with me as ground zero. Thankfully, Mackenzie—yes, Mayor Woods, my previous nemesis—thought Camila was out to steal back Leo and she wasn’t having it. Mack stooped low in an effort to get rid of Camila by way of turning the feds right back in the wily wench’s direction.

  Camila takes a deep breath. “I’m here looking for love, Bizzy. I subscribe to Elvis Hendrix’s service. The Dependable app is having a mixer, and I came ready to mingle with Cupid.” She glances over my shoulder and I follow her gaze to Jasper.

  I can’t help but note Camila looks starry-eyed at the sight of him.

  “You can go home now,” I say. “Cupid has left the building. And Jasper is already taken in the event you’ve forgotten.”

  Mackenzie strides up. “And so is Leo.” Mackenzie looks like a sin in the tiny red dress she’s poured herself into. Her dark hair is swept up into a chignon and her lips are the same cherry shade as her frock. “Rumor has it, Cupid went back to Sheffield. That is where you’re from, isn’t it?”

  “Was.” She nods. “I’m in Seaview now. Within walking distance to my new employer, the Seaview Sherriff’s Department.” She runs her finger down the front of Leo’s tie. “I’ll see you at work, big boy.” She gives a slow wink before slinking right off the property.

  “She probably did it,” I say. “I hope.” There are a lot of things wrong with Camila Ryder, but it’s nothing a good life sentence couldn’t fix.

  Mackenzie leans my way. “Speaking of doing it, I need the Country Cottage Café to cater the Valentine’s dance at the community center on the fourteenth. Our slogan this year is Cider Cove, a place to hang your heart.”

  “Sounds…interesting. Cute, I think? I’m sorry. My head’s all over the place. Of course, we’ll cater.”

  I quickly put a text into both Nessa and Grady, letting them know what happened and where to direct traffic as far as the exit is concerned.

  Leo heads back into the inn to help collect the contact information he needs, and I head back in along with him, only to be accosted by my mother and Georgie.

  “What’s going on, Bizzy?” My mom doesn’t waste any time in scooping Cinnamon out of my arms and cradling the tiny angel herself.

  Georgie leans in. “Is it true? Has there been another murder?”

  My lips press tight. “Yes. And the victim was Lad, the owner of this poor sweet treat.” I give Cinnamon’s back a quick stroke.

  Mom hands her back to me. “We need to get out of here, Georgie. I’m spending the night with you. I hope you have room on that futon in the living room. I don’t want to drive all the way home alone. My cats won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  Mom adopted a pair of sweet kittens last Christmas named Mistletoe and Holly. My brother thought they were the perfect crazy cat lady starter kit, and I still giggle when I think of his comment.

  Georgie links her arm through my mother’s. “I’ve always got room for an uptight prima donna that’s vowed to get to the bottom of my baby girl’s imprisonment.”

  Mom gives a prolonged blink my way. “Bizzy, Georgie’s daughter, Juni, is in prison and Georgie doesn’t know why. Do you think Jasper can help us get to the bottom of this?”

  “Absolutely,” I say. “We’ll try tomorrow.”

  Georgie gives a frenetic nod. “Thanks, Bizzy. But no hurry. According to the email she sent, she’s having a great time. Juni’s in the middle of a love triangle with two of the guards and she’s anxious to see how it will all play out.” She makes a face as she looks around the ballroom. “Too bad we didn’t have such a great time. So much for Cupid’s arrow striking gold. I didn’t have any luck with the men.”

  I tip my head. “I thought you were seeing Elvis?”

  “I’m not now that he’s a suspect.” She narrows her eyes over at mine. “And you know he is, Bizzy. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he wer
e guilty as sin. That boy has a naughty streak a mile wide.” She turns to my mother. “How’d you fare, Prep?”

  My mother rolls her eyes. “Two different men asked if I wanted to watch Netflix and chill. As if I’d want to waste a perfectly good night falling asleep while watching TV. I could have done that alone. It’s too bad. They were both real lookers, too. I would have taken them up on a saucier offer.”

  They take off and I don’t bother correcting my mother on the intentions of those men who proposed the raunchy idea to begin with.

  I’m about to head into the crowd when I spot the friendly brunette who was petting Cinnamon earlier and asking where her owner was. The woman’s bright green dress glows under the duress of the twinkle lights like a homing beacon.

  She staggers my way, dazed.

  “Hey,” I say in my sweetest voice. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She gives a hard blink. “I’m just a little shaken, that’s all. I heard that a man I knew was killed.” Dead as a doornail. My life will never be the same. And if I don’t leave soon, it will be changed forever. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  “You can’t go,” I say, quickly blocking her path, using poor Cinnamon as an inadvertent shield. “I’ll have to get your name and… occupation. My name is Bizzy, and I run the inn.”

  She takes a quick breath as she sizes me up. “I’m Madeline Harper. I run the night classes at the Carter Art Center in Edison.”

  I make a face without meaning to. Nothing good ever happens in Edison. She’s practically guilty by association of where she works the nightshift. Now it’s my turn to run my eyes up and down her person, and something on her knee catches my attention.

  “Is that a grass stain?” I say, looking down as she gives her leg a quick pat.

  “I tripped over a sprinkler head on the way in. You should really have them lowered. You’re lucky I don’t sue.”

  I blink back with surprise. “How well did you know Lad? I mean, I’m assuming you met him through his fiancée since you work for her company.”