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  “Why would I do that?” Georgie cinches a tote bag over her shoulder.

  “Because she’s not even thirty.”

  Georgie is quick to wave her off. “Not even thirty is the right time to retire. Take it from me, I should know. That’s exactly when I started to get off the grid.” She gives a wink my way. “Don’t you tell any of those juicy vampire tales until I get back.” I want the dirty bits, too. And if there aren’t any dirty bits, I suggest you take a clue from your name and get busy.

  “Very funny,” I mouth over to her as I try my best to stifle a laugh.

  Jordy points to a pumpkin muffin, and his sister is quick to ring it up for him.

  He nods my way. “Since when are your mother and Georgie on Macy’s payroll?”

  “They’re not,” I say. “Macy wanted a board so she developed one. Sometimes I think her true destiny of working in Manhattan was derailed by way of wax detail.” It’s true. When the old owners of Lather and Light put the store on the market for just about free, Macy snapped it up as nothing more than a potentially lucrative business endeavor. Her heart has never been into soap or candles. “Emmie, could you send a group text to all the employees at the inn? A psychologist is coming down from Seaview County, and she’ll be around this afternoon if anyone feels they need some extra help to cope with the tragedy.”

  “Will do.” She gets right to prattling away on her phone as an all too familiar face pops into the café and I cringe.

  “Mayor Woods.” I offer a short-lived smile, mostly because as the manager of the inn I’m obligated to be kind to visitors and mean girls alike—even if they did land me a supernatural gift.

  “Bizzy.” She offers a tight smile right back.

  Mackenzie Woods is a tall brunette, light eyes, big toothy two-faced grin, and an ego the size of the solar system. Mack’s the aforementioned reason I have this supernatural gift or curse as it were. Suffice it to say, I’ve never played bobbing for apples with her or anyone else since that fated day she nearly drowned me for kicks. I wasn’t too crazy about her need to steal my boyfriends either. So after Emmie and I parted ways with Mack back in high school, it seemed we jumped off the social ladder altogether and Mack kept right on climbing until she was the queen bee—mean queen bee. I’m not sure what sponsored her hatred of me in general, but whatever it was I’m betting it happened right before that nearly fatal bobbing for apples fiasco.

  Just last year her father stepped down as mayor of Cider Cove, so she ran during the last election and won by a landslide. I think the good people of this town appreciated the nostalgia she offered with her name alone. And let’s be honest, promising to increase parking on Main Street was a draw, too. Everyone knows parking anywhere in Cider Cove can be murder. Which is exactly why I ride my bike or hoof it whenever I can.

  “Mayor Woods. What can I do for you?” I don’t mind giving her the professional due she deserves. I’ve called her worse.

  She saunters over, shoulders back. She’s donned a tweed blazer with ruffled edges and a fitted pair of slacks. Mack looks like she could be a model in one of my mother’s preppy-wear-for-older-women catalogs.

  “Bizzy. Jordy.” She offers him a flirtatious smile. Honestly, I think Mack is the only woman I know that Jordy hasn’t sunk his teeth into. And if he has, I don’t want to know about it. She looks my way. “I thought we could start a new tradition here in Cider Cove and have the orchards and artisans and everyone in between come down to the cove to share their wares. We’ll call it the Harvest at the Cove Festival. And on behalf of the event, I wanted to ask if the Cottage Café would be interested in hosting a booth.”

  “I love it!” Emmie gasps as she trots on over. “We can set it right outside the café itself and naturally draw in visitors. We’ll have dessert and a few savory treats as well. Miniature versions, of course. That way if they want more, they’ll have to come on in.”

  I nod to Mack. “It sounds great. We’ll be glad to do it. In fact—” Before I can say another word, an arrestingly handsome homicide detective walks on in and takes my breath away. He’s wearing a dark inky suit and has those comely gray laser beams he sees the world through pointed right at me.

  Mackenzie follows my gaze. “Well hello, stranger. Mayor Woods at your service.” She extends a hand, and he politely shakes it. “What can I do for you? Please keep in mind that I do aim to please.” I’ll land this one horizontal by midnight. Her devilish grin expands. Official plus one or not—he doesn’t stand a chance.

  Plus one or not? It would figure she doesn’t care if he has some poor wife tucked away somewhere. Mack is despicable.

  My blood boils in an instant, but I try my best to let it go. This is simply Mack being Mack. For God’s sake, she can’t know that I’m interested in him.

  Wait. I’m not interested in him, am I?

  He bows slightly. “Nice to meet you. Detective Jasper Wilder. I’m in charge of investigating the homicide that took place here last night. In fact”—those glowing gray eyes pierce into mine—“I was hoping to speak with Bizzy.”

  Mack’s eyes widen in horror as she looks my way. She quickly wiggles her way in front of him and fans her hair back.

  Hair-tossing stunt aside, Mack is stunning, and to be truthful, I’m not so sure I like her looking so stunning around Jasper.

  “My office is open to you at any time, detective.” She shoots a wry look my way. “As soon as you’re done here, please feel free to stop by. I’m on the other end of Main Street. I’m sure Bizzy and her husband will offer all the assistance they can to help further the case along.” She winks my way. “I’ll speak to you girls later.” She scuttles off, and if I didn’t know better, I think I just saw her fly off on a broomstick.

  Jordy expands his chest as he looks to Jasper. “Watch yourself.” He offers a hardened stare that reads as something just this side of a threat before taking off.

  Emmie gives me a slight shove from behind. “Go on. I’ll keep an eye on the inn—and Fish, too.”

  I take off my apron and make my way around the counter.

  “I believe I have something of yours at my place,” I say as I fight the urge to smile like a loon. I so hate the fact I’m interested. A man like Jasper is far too handsome for both his sake and mine. The odds are in his favor. He knows this and I bet he’s a master at exploiting it.

  Her place. His lips curve at the tips with wicked intent, and I’m quick to blink my gaze in another direction lest I end up in places of his mind I’m not ready to delve.

  “Perfect,” he says. “And then maybe after that, we can grab a quick bite if you don’t mind? I’d like to ask you a few more questions.”

  A date and an interrogation?

  It sounds par for the course, considering how this week is shaping up.

  On the bright side, I’m still breathing, which is more than I can say for poor Kaitlynn.

  She wasn’t just my employee. She was my friend. And because of that, I’ll do whatever it takes to track down her killer.

  Including sacrificing my afternoon to spend a little time with the most gorgeous man to grace Cider Cove since its inception.

  Sometimes you have to take one for the team.

  Chapter 5

  Just up the road from the Country Cottage Inn is a plethora of shops and restaurants that line all of Main Street.

  Jasper and I picked up Sherlock and decided to take him along for the walk.

  “That’s my sister’s shop,” I say, pointing to the big picture window outside of Lather and Light. There’s a silk wisteria tree inside, and it adds a magical appeal to the establishment.

  “Lather and Light.” Jasper steps back as he reads the gilded signage. “I like it. Smells nice, too.”

  Every shop in Cider Cove has a wrought iron frame filled with gilded letters. It’s all a part of keeping up with the cobbled streets and stone front buildings that look as if they’ve been here for hundreds of years. And most of them have.

  I point up the
street. “Our dining options are about to creep up on us. There’s a cozy diner coming up that serves amazing burgers. It’s a fifties themed restaurant complete with shakes and shoestring fries. There’s a great pizza place to the left. Chinese and Thai to the right. And then there’s the Sand Witch—you can’t go wrong with their sandwiches and they have an outdoor eating area with space heaters. We could sit with Sherlock and keep warm.”

  “That sounds good to me. How about you?” His gray eyes press into mine. I’m getting hungry, all right. His lips curve at the tip, and I can feel my face heat twenty degrees. That’s the hazard of prying into someone’s mind—you’re liable to hear just about anything. I can control it on my end, too. But it’s rare for me to turn down the volume. And I’ve never judged anyone for their thoughts. It’s certainly not my business what goes on in their minds—even if I make it so. And I get it. Just because you think it doesn’t mean you’d verbalize it out loud. Not for the most part anyhow.

  “A sandwich sounds perfect. But don’t blame me if you get addicted. The Sand Witch is one of Cider Cove’s biggest draws. So, what brings you to our little corner of Maine anyway?”

  “My family is from Sheffield, just between Ellsworth and Bar Harbor.”

  My mouth falls open as I laugh. “You’re local enough then. But what brings you to Cider Cove?”

  “Work.” He nods as we come upon the shop and we tie up Sherlock outside before heading on in, and once inside the delicious scent of marinara sauce and fresh cut vegetables hits our senses.

  “Mmm. That settles it,” I say. “I’m going for the eggplant.”

  He glances at the menu. “I’ve got to have the barbeque beef.”

  We put in our orders, and soon we’re right back outside with Sherlock as we find a small round table next to the outdoor open fireplace. The liquid ambers that line Main Street send their leaves tumbling around us in a display of cardinal and gold, and the crisp air reminds us that fall has ushered summer right out the seasonal door.

  “Go on,” I say. “You came for work. Did you transfer?”

  “I did.” He winces and manages to look painfully handsome in the process. I’m not sure I’ve met a man like Jasper before, so sure of himself, seemingly kind and normal, and yet every woman at the surrounding tables has already stolen more than a glance in his direction. “I transferred to Seaview from Sheffield. But full disclosure, I had a bad breakup and wanted a fresh start.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I glance to Sherlock, and his eyes zero in on mine.

  Don’t be. Sherlock sniffs and nods toward my food. She was a shrew who never shared her food with me.

  I take in a quick breath before pinching off a piece of my bread and casually dropping it to the ground.

  “So what happened?” I lean in, returning my attention fully to Jasper. “Can I ask?”

  “Absolutely,” he says as we both start in on our meals. “Mmm, this is insane. You’re right. The addiction has begun.” He blinks a quick smile, and my stomach bisects with heat. Jasper is so comely, half the women here keep turning around to steal a glance at him. “It was a mutual parting. I think we just outgrew each other. We were together for about four years. She moved on, and I moved out. She’s a counselor at the local high school, and she”—he flicks his fingers as if struggling for words—“started dating one of the deputies. I wanted to give them space—and I think I needed it, too.”

  “That must have been hard—the dating your co-worker part. I can see why you’d want to make an exit.”

  “How about you? The mayor mentioned you had a husband.”

  I can’t help but avert my gaze to the sky. “Had as in past tense, and you’ve met him. Jordy and I were married for less than twenty-four hours. It was a poor choice sponsored by Jim Beam and a drive-thru wedding chapel in Vegas. Believe me when I say I haven’t had a sip of anything that toxic since.”

  He chuckles at the thought. “I would definitely suggest you abstain if you’re prone to run to Vegas and tie the knot.”

  “My brother Hux, the one you met last night, is in family practice. He helped me get it annulled rather quickly. But yes, our dear mayor has a propensity to bring up my flaws. And if you lend her an ear, I’m sure she’d love to fill you in on whatever dirt on me she happens to have.” She’s made it a habit to dig for dirt on yours truly, and Lord knows she’s never had to dig that far. She’s had a front-row seat in my life for as long as I can remember. Nevertheless, Cider Cove doesn’t keep secrets very well. And that’s precisely why I haven’t told anyone outside of Georgie about my special abilities. Who knows what would happen to me if word got out? I’d probably be living in some governmental cage for the rest of my life.

  A shiver runs through me at the thought.

  “Ouch.” His dark brows frame his glowing eyes. “I take it you and the mayor have a history.”

  “A tainted one. Silly high school stuff that should have ended there. But now she’s the mayor, and I’m her not-so-devoted constituent.” I shift uncomfortably at the thought of Mack weaseling her way into our conversation. I should know better than to give her a spotlight, so I quickly change the subject. “Any news on who could have killed Kaitlynn?”

  His eyes linger over mine, but I can’t key in on what he might be thinking.

  “Considering the violent nature of the crime, I think it’s easy to deduce this was a crime of passion.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “As in that fiancé I met last night was guilty?”

  “I can’t say. I’ve seen this play out in many ways. I know you gave me a quick rundown on the three people you met last night, and I’ve already questioned Chris Davidson and Rissa McNeil. I haven’t spoken to Sammy. Was there anything else you might have seen last night? Anything out of the ordinary now that you’ve had a moment to think about it?”

  “Everything was out of the ordinary last night. I mean, we don’t have the entire town and every tourist in Maine pouring out onto our shorelines each night. There was a cast of thousands, and it was my job to make sure that the inn was in top condition and the café was well-stocked for the onslaught. All of the waitresses were on edge, but they knew what to expect. Most of them anyway. Kaitlynn had only been working for us for a couple of weeks, but she caught on quickly and everyone liked her. She was easygoing and funny, too.” I try to think back on anything that might have sent up a red flag but come up empty.

  “Do you mind if I ask what her last place of employment was?”

  “Not at all. I didn’t process her application. Emmie did, but I can pull it up for you if you like.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” He grimaces. “And just so you know, it’s been confirmed that the knife—the murder weapon belonged to the Cottage Café.”

  I gasp. “She was bussing tables. My God, she could have had it in her hand. How terrible that someone used it against her like that.”

  “It is certainly terrible.”

  My curiosity is about to get the better of me once again. “What did her family say? Did her fiancé or her stepsister provide any information about her?”

  He’s about to take a bite out of his sandwich and pauses. “I’m sorry, Bizzy. I can’t share any of that information with you.”

  I choke on my next words. “But if we work together, we might be able to find the killer twice as fast. She was my employee. I might be able to help you crack the case.”

  A dull laugh bounces from him. “No way. This is an active homicide investigation, and a dangerous one at that. The killer could be anywhere. They could be a guest at the inn for all I know. There’s no way I’d place a civilian in any more danger than necessary.”

  A chill rides up my spine at the thought. “A killer right under my nose? Under my roof?”

  Sherlock whines as he lies on the ground and lands his paws up over his ears as if he didn’t want to hear it himself.

  “Whoa, I’m sorry, Bizzy.” Jasper dips down to catch my gaze. “You and your guests will be safe. I’m
beefing up the area with deputies until we’re sure we’ve apprehended whoever did this. And I will bring them to justice. I can promise you that.”

  “That’s a big promise.”

  I’d promise this girl just about anything.

  A small laugh rattles in my chest. “Thank you.”

  “It was nice meeting your family. And your grandma Georgie, too. She seems like a real character.”

  “That she is. She thinks you’re a vampire.”

  “Strangely enough, I get that a lot.”

  We share a warm laugh at his blood-sucking status.

  “Georgie isn’t actually my grandmother. I acquired her in the divorce—my father’s divorce. He’s on his fifth, and I think she belonged to wife two or three. Anyway, Georgie’s daughter married a wealthy count, and the two of them have been sailing the Mediterranean on his yacht ever since. And I kind of fell in love with her, so when the apartment she was living in was condemned, I offered her a studio cottage just behind the inn and she gladly snapped it up. She sells her mosaics to cover the rent. They’re beautiful. I’d love to show you her work sometime.”

  “I’m in. My sister is an artist—mostly acrylic, but she dabbles in oil paint. She lives in Rose Glen.”

  “Nice. Does she have a studio? Is she showing her work? I’d love to drive Georgie over some time to see it.”

  “She has a showing coming up in October. You’re both more than welcome to come. You’ll be my guest.”

  “Then it’s a date!” And just like that, I wish I could bite my tongue off. “I mean, on the calendar—not like you and me. But a threesome. You and me and Georgie. And, oh God, that sounds even worse. I’m going to shove this entire sandwich into my mouth now.” And I proceed to do just that, but Jasper is too busy chuckling to do the same.

  “You know, you remind me a lot of my sister.”

  I stop mid-bite.

  Mark that under words you never want the cute homicide detective to utter.

  Did I just say that? His entire expression grows momentarily distressed.