A Christmas to Dismember Addison Moore (feel good books TXT) 📖

dips his chin, his brows narrowing like a couple of birds in flight. “Bizzy, I asked you earlier to please let me take this case.”

“You asked me to keep away from Arthur Silver. And I did. You didn’t say anything about Angelica. Besides, she’s a woman. I could take her if I had to.”

“Could you take a bullet to the heart?”

“You don’t fight fair.”

“Neither do bullets.” He sighs as he washes his gaze over me. “Okay, I give. I get it. Quinn was your boss. This was his inn. This is personal. I’ll let you assist. But for the record, you are assisting me.”

“I’m in.” I raise my right hand as if I were taking an oath. “I solemnly swear to fully cooperate with your investigation, Detective.”

“Who are we kidding?” The hint of a mournful smile appears on his face. “I’m going to be cooperating with your investigation. Just don’t tell my boss. So what did you glean?”

“Okay, so I still don’t know what she dumped in his drink last night.”

“You saw her dump something in his drink?”

I nod. “Before the show.”

He pulls out his phone. “Making a note to send to forensics.”

“I meant to tell you that, but things kept going sideways.”

“That is their favorite direction,” he says, plopping his phone back onto the table. “And by the way, your investigation is moving too fast.” His brows bounce, and although there’s a dash of sarcasm in his tone, I know he means it. “What happened at lunch?”

“Angelica was dicey. She lied to me when I asked if she spoke to Quinn after the show. She was about to admit it but then backtracked, thinking she should keep her story consistent with what she told the deputies. But Angelica did admit out loud to calling Quinn’s estate attorney last night, wanting to know when they’d have the reading of the will. We’re hosting it at the inn, by the way.”

“Wow.” He gives a wistful shake of the head. “She ran home and called his attorney? It takes a special person to pull a stunt like that. But does it take a killer?”

“Not according to Angelica. She thinks Eve is the axe wielding maniac in this equation.”

“Eve French, the jilted girlfriend. I spoke with a few people who told me a little about the relationship she had with Quinn. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t a good one.”

“That’s basically what Angelica said. Oh, and there was one more thing she said that I thought was funny, and it had nothing to do with the case. She mentioned it was exhausting maintaining her lifestyle. I guess there are first-world problems and then there are socialite problems.”

Rudolph comes up barking a happy little yip-yip-yip while dancing on his hind legs, so I pull him onto my lap.

Fish strides over looking worn out. Good idea, Bizzy, she mewls. Hold him hostage. He’s a terror. He’s got far too much energy, and it never seems to end.

I can’t help but laugh as I translate to Jasper.

Sherlock moans as he collapses in a heap by the fireplace. I don’t even care about bacon anymore. I just need naps. He closes his eyes, and he’s out like a light.

Rudolph bounces between my lap and Jasper’s as his wagging tongue and tail all move frenetically along with him.

Those women at the restaurant were talking about the blonde you were with. He vocalizes as if trying to speak the words in perfect English.

“The women were talking about, Angelica?” I lean in. “What were they saying?”

Rudolph gives a sharp bark. They said she was broke, and that she had no money. One of them said she probably killed Quinn because she knew she was in the will.

I glance to Jasper and quickly tell him what I’ve just learned.

“Hearsay. Gossip at best,” he says the words slowly. “But maybe that’s what she meant by it’s exhausting to maintain the lifestyle? Maybe she is broke and she’s just keeping up appearances?”

My mouth falls open. “Come to think of it, she said she much prefers to hang out with people like Juni. Maybe she’s living a double life? Juni is anything but a socialite.”

Jasper nods. “And maybe that’s why she stiffed you with the bill.”

Fish yowls, I knew I should have gone along. Point her out to me, Bizzy. She flicks a claw from her paw. I’ll give her a gift she’ll remember for quite some time.

Rudolph wiggles free and jumps to the floor, giving chase to Fish while barking up a storm.

“The kids are wild tonight.” Jasper’s lids hood over. “How about if Mom and Dad hit the bedroom early?”

“What about your hot pastrami dinner?”

“Don’t tell Santa, but I’m a dessert first kind of a guy. Besides, I’ve got an access issue to check out for you. I’d hate to think you got ripped off twice in one day.”

“Smooth, Wilder, smooth.”

He takes me by the hand and we put the kaftan to the test.

Suffice it to say, Georgie wasn’t wrong.

Chapter 7

I think I like donuts better than bacon. Rudolph barks as he makes quick work of the sugary confection that fell to the ground.

Fish gives a long blink. For goodness’ sake, we’ve got another monster with the munchies. You’ve trained him well, Sherlock, she mewls. Your wicked work is done.

Sherlock barks. You’re wrong. There’s still plenty of work to be done. Nothing is better than bacon.

It’s the middle of the day and the foot traffic at the front desk of the Country Cottage Inn has been comparable to a clearance sale the day after Christmas. It turns out, a bed and breakfast up the way flooded, and we’re receiving their current bookings along with their prospective bookings, too.

Thankfully, I’ve got both of my trusty front desk clerks with me. Nessa Crosby, a feisty brunette who also happens to be a cousin of Emmie’s, and Grady Pennington, a real looker with dark hair and far too much Irish charm handed down via his DNA. The girls never fail to swoon in his direction.