Dog Days of Murder Read online

  Jordy twitches his brows. “So basically everywhere.” A warm chuckle expels from him. “Isn’t it ironic? Here we were married for less than a day and yet you’re still bossing me around with a honey-do list?”

  A laugh bubbles from me. “That’s because I am your boss.”

  The crisp fall breeze picks up and in walks Camila Ryder, a tall brunette with cut features and a knowing smirk on her face as she greets me with a smile. Her skin looks beautifully bronzed, and her lips are perfectly pouty and pink. Everything about her screams supermodel.

  I bet if she never cheated on Jasper they would still be together. A part of me wonders if now that she’s no longer with Leo Granger, mind reader extraordinaire, if Jasper wants her back. My stomach churns just thinking about it.

  Sherlock moans and threads himself between my knees. It’s her again. It’s that woman. She never shared her food with me, Bizzy. Not one time. Not one piece of bacon.

  I give a secret smile down at the disparaging pup. I happen to be notorious for sneaking him an extra slice of bacon.

  Camila extends a hand my way. “Hello, Bizzy. I’m Jasper’s friend. We met the other night.” Bet she’s thrilled to see me. She lifts a brow as if the thought amused her.

  “Hi, Camila.” I give her ice-cold fingers a shake. “Of course, I remember you.” How could I forget? And friend? I guess she doesn’t like the title of ex-girlfriend. “What can I do for you?”

  Her lips purse, and suddenly it looks as if she’s feigning a pout. “I’m actually ready for that room. The remodel on my kitchen just kicked into high gear and I’ll be out for a month at least. Gwyneth, Jasper’s mother, and I are very close.” Her eyes rake over me as if she wanted that little not-so friendly tidbit to sink in a moment. “She mentioned she was stuck here, too. It’ll be fun to join both her and Jasper—like one long sleepover.” And I will be sleeping with Jasper. She glances down at Sherlock Bones and frowns. Hopeful this beast won’t be anywhere near the bedroom this time.

  Ugh. The things poor Sherlock was subjected to. I’d better give him an entire platter of bacon to make up for it.

  Camila practically snarls at him for no good reason.

  The way a person responds to animals says a lot about him or her, and right now it’s not saying great things about Camila.

  And did she say stuck here? She’s more than welcome to get stuck anywhere between here and Sheffield.

  I nod over to her. “I’m sure we have a room for you. In fact, I’ll get you registered right away.” A thought comes to me. “Camila? The other night you mentioned that you knew Shelby Harris. Was she a colleague of yours?” I happened to know they work in entirely different fields. Shelby lived the lifestyle of the rich and famous, and Camila is a high school guidance counselor.

  She tips her head back and takes a deep breath. “I guess you could say so. We met when she came to the campus I work at. It was part of Career Week. She and her partner shared about their experiences as influencers.” And boy, do I regret ever being there.

  I swallow hard, trying to figure out how to best delicately pull the details from her.

  “She mentioned you were good friends.” I shrug, marveling at how easily the lie slipped from me.

  Her eyes widen with horror. “What else did she say?” God, I’ll never forgive myself for giving in to her ridiculous ideas. Modeling—of all the cheesy ploys I fell for. She averts her eyes.

  I take a quick breath. “She mentioned something about pictures.” I shake my head as if I couldn’t quite recall—because I can’t.

  Camila’s lips round out. “Oh, right. It was stupid. She had a photographer friend who needed someone for something. A quick job and I took it.”

  Jordy steps up, his eyes still glued to Camila’s perfect features. Geez, I didn’t know they made them like this. Holy heck. Where do I sign up?

  Good Lord. At least he kept it G. I’ve accidentally intercepted a lot more colorful thoughts from Jordy where the opposite sex is involved.

  “Camila, this is Jordy,” I say. “He’s our groundskeeper here at the inn.”

  Jordy clears his throat. “This is just an in-between job. I worked in upper management for years. I just needed a break.”

  She voluntarily shakes his hand. “Camila Ryder. I’m a high school counselor over in Sheffield.” My, aren’t you a mighty fine snack. Her smile widens as she examines him. If I weren’t throwing out the bait to net my ex, I’d hop on the Groundskeeper Express.

  Knew it! She is trying to net her ex!

  I practically stop breathing at the thought. Which reminds me…

  “Jordy, pull out those witches’ hats. Those are fun to decorate with, too.” I shoot Camila the side-eye. I’m sure they’ll come in handy with the coven that’s taking up residence at the inn.

  Fish slaps the counter with her long fluffy tail as I arrive at the computer. Bizzy, is that the girl you were telling me about? Camila?

  I nod over at my sweet cat. Having Fish living with me has been like having a best friend or a sister by my side twenty-four seven. And considering the fact that neither my siblings nor best friend knows anything about my ability to pry into other people’s minds, Fish is closer to me than both.

  Let me take a better look at her. Fish tips her head to the side as she examines the girl. Sure she’s pretty, but I can tell she’s cunning, too. I don’t like cunning. It brings out the worst in people.

  Peanut curls up in a ball of cuteness by my feet as I quickly assign Camila to a room.

  “What do you know?” I say. “You’ll be right next door to Gwyneth. A room just opened up. The room won’t be ready for about twenty minutes, so you might want to head to the café out back. It sits right in front of the cove and has sweeping views of the Atlantic.”

  “Perfect.” She types into her phone. “I just asked Gwyn to join me.” She wrinkles her nose my way. “I’m sure once she gets to know you better, she’ll invite you to call her Gwyn. All of her close friends do. Oh, and I spoke to Jasper. He’ll be here in a few minutes. Would you be a love and tell him where to find me?” Her lips curve with a dangerous smile. “It’s so nice that I’ll be practically living with him and Gwyn. They’ve always been like family.” She trots off in the direction of the café and I can’t help but scowl at her.

  She’s not even hiding the fact she wants him back. And what does she mean, she just spoke to Jasper? Do exes speak to one another on the regular? Is that a thing?

  Of course, I work with mine. But Jordy and I didn’t date for four years only to have me cheat on him with his co-worker.

  No sooner do I get the thought out than a sheriff’s deputy enters the inn and gives a jovial pat to Sherlock’s head.

  “Hey, old buddy. I’ve missed you.” The deputy straightens only to reveal himself as Leo Granger.

  Well, there you go. Speak of the devil and he will come. Or in my case think. Same difference when the devil in question is a mind reader.

  He winces as he heads my way. His wavy hair is combed back and his dark eyes are squinted with laughter as if he were in on some horrible joke. And sadly, he sort of is.

  Devil? He shakes his head. Now is that any way to talk about your fellow transmundane?

  Trans what? Now it’s me shaking my head at him. I figure I’ve already outted myself to the deceptive deputy. There’s no backing out now.

  Sherlock runs over to my side of the counter. Careful, Bizzy. He’ll try to hypnotize you with his eyes. That’s exactly how he stole Camila.

  I make a face at Leo for doing anything of the sort. Although, I should probably be penning him a thank you.

  Leo barks out a laugh. “That you should. And do you prefer to talk?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. “But keep it down.” Partly because I’m not so sure I should be talking to him in particular. “What’s this transmundane?” I whisper.

  He shrugs as he leans in. “That’s what we are. I have an aunt that’s just like us. The one that happened to lead me to
you last month.”

  “Knew it.” I strum my nails against the counter. Georgie somewhat outted me, and the woman ran with it at the craft festival. Mack put the event together, and I should have known anything that Mayor Woods touches would endanger me in some way.

  Before I can ask another question, a sassy older brunette with stunning gray eyes that I’ve grown to have a slight obsession with—on her son, that is—pops up at the reception counter.

  “Gwyneth, how can I help you?” I force a cheery grin, although that condescending smirk she’s wearing lets me know I shouldn’t be too thrilled to see her just yet. Her hair is wavy and shellacked into place. Her lips look hardened with a harsh shade of orange, and her mascara is clumping her lashes into groups of two and three.

  Her smile tightens in my direction. “I’m meeting with Jasper’s special friend in the café. As soon as he gets here, do redirect him. I’m trying so hard to get those two lovebirds back where they belong.” Her head twitches toward Leo as if her sixth sense just alerted her to his presence. “Deputy Granger? Oh, Leo.” She pulls him in for a quick embrace. “How ever are you doing? Don’t answer that. I heard all about Camila breaking your heart. You know you can’t have her. But there are plenty of fish in the sea.” She sucks in a quick breath as she looks my way. “Come to think of it, you and Dizzy would make a fine pair. Why don’t the two of you take a lunch break and get to know one another?” The whites of her eyes expand as she gives a quick chortle. “Of course, I’d like a special mention at your wedding for coming up with the idea. You’ll both thank me in a year.” She points a red fingernail at the two of us as if she were casting a spell before trotting off.

  Sherlock whimpers and Peanut follows suit.

  Is she gone? Sherlock trots out from behind the counter to get a look. Oh, thank heavens. And who is this Dizzy person, anyway?

  I shrug over at Leo. “She’s my biggest fan. What can I say? Dizzy Baker at your service. Now, what is this transmundane business? You said that’s what we’re called. How do you know? How does your aunt know?”

  He opens his mouth to answer just as Nessa speeds over and cranes her neck at him. Her face looks white as a sheet at the sight, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say Nessa was most definitely acting like a killer who didn’t want to be sent up the river for a very long time.

  “On second thought, Detective Granger”—my voice spikes unnaturally—“why don’t you inspect the grand ballroom one more time? I have absolutely no problem with that.”

  He takes off, but his eyes are slow to peel away from mine.

  “Oh wow, he’s hot, Bizzy,” Nessa pants as she shoves her purse into the cabinet below the reception counter. Her dark hair is swept back into a bun and she’s wearing a cinnamon-colored sweater made of spun yarn that looks feather soft and cozy. “Oh my goodness!” she coos as she picks up Peanut. “Hey there, sweet boy. Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got the face of an angel?” She presses a long, lingering kiss between his ears and Peanut’s tubby little tail wags happily.

  I like her, Bizzy! Peanut squeals out loud as he says it. Can I keep her? Can I keep her?

  Fish yowls with laughter. I think Peanut has found his person. He’s in love.

  “I think Nessa is in love for sure,” I say as I give Peanut a light scratch over his back. “So, what’s going on?” I ask, examining her features, and that distressed look comes right back to her face.

  “Oh, Bizzy. I’ve really done it this time.” She falls back onto a stool and holds Peanut all that much tighter.

  “What?” I pant with baited breath. “Tell me. It’ll all work out, I’m sure.”

  “Not if I’m locked up behind bars forever.” She presses her lips tight. “Bizzy, it’s no secret that I didn’t like Shelby. And do you know how she died?”

  “She was shot.” I nod. “I think everyone knows that by now.”

  “Yes, but do they know she was shot with my gun?”

  “What?” I squawk so loud, Fish, Sherlock, and Peanut all jerk their heads my way. “Nessa, you don’t have a gun, do you?”

  She shrivels in her seat. “Okay, don’t get mad. But after that murder last month, my dad made me go out and get a concealed carry permit. And, of course, he bought me a small handgun to go along with it—a .38 Special. I had lessons down at the shooting range and everything.”

  My mouth rounds out in horror. “My God, Nessa, did you kill Shelby Harris? Was it an accident?”

  She shakes her head in disbelief, wisps of hair falling loose around her face.

  “I keep my gun in my purse, right underneath the cabinet. When I got home that night, I went to put it away and opened the cylinder just to inspect it. My heart stopped once I saw a dimple on the primer in the back of the casing. It’s a sure sign that the bullet has been spent. I pulled it out and took a closer look, and I was right.” Her forehead breaks out into three deep-set worry lines. “Someone fired my gun, Bizzy. And it wasn’t me.”

  I study her a moment, both my mind and hers reeling with panic.

  Peanut suddenly begins to squirm. She did it! She killed my Shelby. Help! Get me down! Killer on the loose. Killer on the loose!

  I take the anxious creature from her and dot him with a kiss before setting him on his feet.

  “Nessa, how do you think the gun got from your purse to the killer?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, we both know Grady is prone to wander from the counter and take extended breaks for no reason. The reception counter could have been unmanned for hours. Anyone could have retrieved it.” She cinches her eyes shut tight and holds her breath a moment. “Chelsea—Shelby’s partner—Chelsea Ashley, she knew I have a permit to carry.” She presses a hand to her chest. “That’s right. She freaked out once she heard the seminar was at the inn. She swore it was probably haunted after what happened last month. She didn’t want to come. I had to convince her it was safe. I even joked that I would be patrolling the grounds with my weapon. Of course, I wasn’t. But she asked what I meant and I told her that my father bought me a gun. I’m sorry, Bizzy. I never meant to bring any trouble to the inn.”

  I try my best to process everything she’s just spilled at my feet. “Do you think Chelsea had a motive to kill Shelby?”

  Nessa glances back at the ballroom. “I don’t know. I heard rumors about something.” She brings her fingers to her mouth and takes a nip at her crimson-colored fingernails.

  “What rumors? You can tell me, Nessa. I need to know.”

  She shrugs it off. “Something about a favor Chelsea did for Shelby. Chelsea told me that after the incident happened it almost split their friendship apart. But that she was glad it made them stronger. I won’t lie. She didn’t look happy about it. She looked downright angry. I don’t know exactly what happened, but if Shelby was twice as shady as her father, it was very, very bad.”

  A shiver runs through me just as a dark figure walks through the front door, and a sense of relief washes over me in an instant.

  Detective Jasper Wilder looks dressed to kill—pardon the pun—in a dark suit with a slick navy tie, his gun holster peeking from underneath his jacket. Jasper looks hot to trot, and if I had my way I’d trot him right over to my cottage.

  “Hey, Bizzy. Hello, Nessa.” He nods her way. Sherlock goes bonkers as he prances around Jasper, hungry for attention—and if it weren’t for Nessa’s news, I’d probably do the same.

  I got the job! I got the job! Sherlock’s tail wags like a whip as he hops up on his hind legs. I’m the official greeter of the Country Cottage Inn! Fish and I are double teaming ’em.

  I can’t help but bite down a smile. It’s adorable to see Sherlock basking in his greeter glory.

  “Jasper.” I’m about to head around the counter when Nessa grabs me by the hand.

  “Bizzy, we can’t tell him.” She pleads twice as hard with her eyes.

  “Tell me what?” Jasper offers a crooked grin as he settles those intense gray eyes to mine and I melt like a marshm
allow in a cup of hot cocoa.

  Oh God. Nessa moans. Bizzy is going to blabber it all to her new boyfriend, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life on a chain gang on I-95.

  I crimp my lips at her. “Nessa, you’re innocent, aren’t you? It wasn’t you who pulled the trigger.”

  Her expression grows cold before she softens. “No, it wasn’t.” She looks to Jasper as her body stiffens. “I am one hundred percent innocent.” I’m sure they all say that in the big house. Isn’t that the bridge of the prison choir?

  Jasper’s playful demeanor quickly dissolves and in its place is that hard-boiled detective look that means business.

  “What’s going on?”

  I look to Nessa and she closes her eyes and gives a slight nod.

  In less than ten seconds, I relay everything Nessa just told me.

  Jasper’s eyes widen a notch. “Nessa, do you have the gun with you?”

  Nessa sags a moment before retrieving her purse from underneath the counter.

  “Take the whole thing,” she says. “Maybe the killer left their prints on it.”

  I pull a paper bag from the shelf beneath me and Nessa drops her purse inside.

  “I have my license in my phone case,” she says. “And that’s in my pocket. I don’t need anything in there right now.” She takes the bag from me and hands it to Jasper.

  Jasper holds the bag to the side as if it were filled with death, and it just might be in the proverbial sense.

  “I’ll have forensics inspect it.” He presses out a depleted smile. “They have the bullet that killed Shelby. We’ll see if it matches your gun.”

  “How will they do that?” I ask out of morbid curiosity.

  Jasper lends those gray eyes my way. “Bullets tend to have distinct indentations carved into them as they leave the chamber called lands and grooves. They’ll have to fire a round of Nessa’s gun to see if they match.”

  I nod. “It’s like a fingerprint then?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Jasper?” a male voice calls out from the right and we find Deputy Granger stepping into our midst, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary.