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

“I sure did speak with him that night.” And I let him have it, too. I shouldn’t have gone. I certainly shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over petty grievances. Not that withholding cash from me was petty. How did the guy expect me to live?

That sounds in line with what Eve was telling me.

“So was Quinn one of your largest clients at the Silver Collective?”

His expression sobers up and his chest thumps with a silent laugh.

“He was my partner in the management company. Let’s just say he was the silent partner.” Who collected all the coins I managed to scrape up, while I was left with goose egg.

“So how does that work? Quinn didn’t have a say in any of the business dealings?”

A laugh cracks from him. “No, that wouldn’t have been Quinn if he did. He put up the capital to get the company going. I came in as a squirrely kid. I met Quinn when he was making the casinos rich back in the day. I worked the blackjack table and we grew to be friends.” Or so I thought. “I always wondered what he saw in me to trust me enough to be the accountant with his personal and business finances.” And now I know it was my naïveté he was looking for. “I was fresh out of college with a dual degree in business and accounting. Anyway, here I am.”

“So what happens now? I mean, I guess you get the whole company, right?”

He tips his head to the side. “I don’t know. But I’m not counting my chickens before they’re hatched. Quinn always had an ace up his sleeve.” And it always worked as a loss for me. I can’t believe I went years living off skimpy bonuses. Here I am an accountant without a steady income of my own, still living in my brother’s basement.

I take a quick breath, sorry for the poor guy.

“The reading of the will is coming up this Monday at two. It’ll be at the inn.”

“I’ve been invited by his attorney. I guess I’ll find out all the grisly details that day with everyone else. I suppose you’ll be there, too.”

“Oh, I will. In fact, I’ll have refreshments on hand.” I press my lips tightly a moment. “Arthur, did you happen to see Quinn, you know when he was—”

I let my words hang in the air and he shakes his head.

“No, thank God. After the show wrapped up, I had a few words with him.” Same irate words I had with him before the show. His mind goes gray, and I inch back because I’ve never experienced that before. “Let’s just say things weren’t friendly between Quinn and me that night. I guess I should say I’d take it all back, but that conversation was long overdue.” Thank God for the hot blonde who caught me on the way out and told me she could make all of my troubles disappear—did she ever. Lucky for me, she said she worked there and happened to have the key to an empty room, and boy, did we ever take advantage of it.

My mouth falls open. How in the heck did this woman get a key? I’m going to have to fire Grady, Nessa, and myself for ineptness. I don’t care if a murder did take place at the inn. That’s no excuse for someone having access to the holy grail.

Wait a minute…

I clear my throat. “Well, too bad we didn’t meet that night. My sister works the inn sometimes.” Or at least she pretends to. “Her name is Macy? A touch taller than me, short blonde hair, ice blue eyes, very sassy.”

He cocks his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.” But sounds just like the woman I was with, Tracy, to a T.”

I make a face just as the woman dressed in red and green comes at me with a pair of size seven and a half tap shoes with heels.

“Get these on and get out there, stat! It’s almost time for your big moment. You’ve got the hat with the bell that means you’re the pinwheel, remember?” She drops to her knees and helps latch my feet into the shoes.

“Arthur”—I pant as my body is jostled—“who do you think could have done this to Quinn?”

He ticks his head back a notch as he scans the ceiling.

“You know, no one was closer to him than Warwick. Quinn trusted that man like a brother.”

“I think he trusted you like a brother, too. You were in charge of all the finances.”

Arthur chuckles at the thought. “Not quite. He had more checks and balances in our company, you’d think he had hired a den of thieves to run it.” And I would have been one if I thought I could have gotten away with it. His expression sours. After that last stunt he pulled, I should have swiped the money anyway. He’s dead now. That’s all that matters. The man can’t torment me a day longer. And I’ve never breathed easier.

“So Warwick was his trusted friend?” I bet Warwick will know exactly what was truly going on between Quinn and Arthur.

“Yup. Warwick and Quinn had some business dealings, too, but that’s all kept separate from the Collective, so I don’t know too much about it. Telecommunications stuff. That’s where Quinn’s real payday was coming from. No offense, but that little inn wasn’t keeping him in his jet setting lifestyle.”

“No offense taken.”

The girl working on my shoes slaps me on the thigh.

“Now get! Get!”

Arthur laughs. “I’ll see you at the reading of the will, Bizzy. Nice meeting you!”

I’m quickly shuffled onto stage and overcome with a flash of white-hot lights pouring down over me while “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” blares throughout the cavernous room.

A girl with a white version of the accouterment the rest of us have on links arms with mine and quickly lands me in the middle of the melee as the girls line up to my right and left, with one row