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

was aiming for a buck and never saw the man who took the bullet. Lucky for Arthur, there was another hunter with him who not only claimed to see the buck, but corroborated Arthur’s claim that the man he shot came out of nowhere. The hunter corroborating Arthur’s story was his brother. A part of me wonders if the brother wanted the cad that was seeing his mother dead just as much as Arthur did.

And tonight I’m hoping to gain a little more clarity on the type of person Arthur is, and more importantly, if Quinn ever said anything about him to Warwick.

“Hubba hubba.” Georgie moans as she inspects a couple of frat boys walking into Quinn’s Bar and Bistro, out in Whaler’s Warf, and that’s exactly where we stand now.

I had no idea Quinn owned a bar out in Whaler’s Warf. I vaguely remember him telling me about other establishments he held in Maine, but once he assured me they weren’t inns, I guess I must have tuned him out.

Regardless, it turns out, this place is a nightly haunt for the next suspect on my list. And per the contract I seemingly entered into with the lead homicide detective on the case, I informed him of my whereabouts and he said as soon as he was done with forensics he’d swing on by. Besides, I’m far from alone. I have Macy, Georgie, and Juni with me.

“Georgie, stop drooling,” Macy snips as she adjusts her booty-hugging little black dress.

She’s chosen to spice up the much-loved frock with a pair of spiked silver heels.

Believe me, I’ve got my eye on those, and if she pulls any unwarranted stunts, I might accept them as payment for letting her tag along on my little investigative jaunt. I caved this time once she swore she’d never sleep with a killer again.

Macy sniffs my way. “Those boys were young enough to be embryos. I should have figured that when you invited me out for a bar crawl something would be amiss. I don’t do frat boys. Here’s hoping a scruffy bartender who doubles as a vampire can rectify the night.” She cinches her purse over her shoulder as she marches on in.

“Don’t forget the booze!” Juni shouts after her. “Booze always rectifies the night for me.”

I hold the door open for the rest of our motley crew, only to find Macy in the foyer donning what looks to be reindeer antlers with tiny bells festooning them and a red plastic nose that blinks on and off.

“You’re going to pay for this,” she hisses while wagging a finger my way. “You’re lucky they serve beer.” She stalks on into the heart of the establishment just as the hostess welcomes us and hands us each a set of antlers and a glowing red nose for ourselves.

“Fair warning”—the hostess shrugs—“the Greeks from Dexter University are hosting their Christmas bash here tonight. It might be a little rowdier than usual.”

“Really? I went to Dexter.” It comes out a little too enthusiastic. I didn’t graduate, but I doubt anyone is going to ask me to pull out my college records tonight.

The hostess laughs. “Then you know exactly how rowdy they can be.”

I quickly scan the establishment, with its dusty wooden floors, small round tables, packed dance floor, and what looks to be a thousand lunatics running around disguised as Santa’s most trustworthy reindeer. Everyone is either laughing hysterically or gyrating their limbs as if they were being electrocuted.

“Honestly, the three of us might just be the sanest people in the room tonight.” I purposely left Macy out of the equation because her sanity has been questionable from an early age. I turn to look at Georgie and Juni and freeze.

Georgie has attached herself onto Juni’s back and is spurring her onward with her invisible reins.

“Never mind,” I say. Honestly, with Juni’s barely-there leather getup and Georgie’s neon green kaftan, it only adds to the visual. “Let’s get seated and see what’s on the menu.”

“Oh”—the hostess holds up a finger—“we’re sort of famous for our bacon wrapped jalapeño poppers.”

Juni makes an odd wailing sound as she stalks forward. “Jalapeño poppers and boozy boys? Something tells me this is going to be a night to remember.”

I’m about to ask the hostess where I can find Warwick when I spot the stalky man himself at the bar, patting a patron on the back as they share a laugh together.

Georgie and I follow Juni inside as a country version of a holiday song croons overhead. Macy is nowhere to be seen. For all I know, someone could have hauled her off to the alley and buried an axe in her. And seeing that she has a propensity to sleep with my prime suspects, this could be a very real possibility.

We find a table near the bar, and it affords me a straight shot of the suspect at hand. Warwick has donned the requisite antlers and impossible to breathe through red rubber nose. He’s wearing a suit that stretches to accommodate his barrel chest, and a few of the buttons on his dress shirt look as if they’re being compromised.

A waitress blocks my view momentarily, and Juni puts in four orders of bacon wrapped jalapeño poppers.

“Four?” I balk as the waitress does a disappearing act.

“You don’t know what Mama and I are capable of when it comes to spicy food.” Juni nods, and the bells attached to her antlers give a little jingle.

“Georgie, I thought you had a sensitive stomach?”

“Not when it comes to anything wrapped in bacon. How hot can it be? And don’t worry, Biz. If we have any leftovers, I’ll take some back to my cottage. I’ve got a backlog of mixed martial arts on my DVR just waiting for me to pair it with a spicy snack.”

“Good idea,” Juni says. “I’ll take a few back to Sprinkles.”

“You can’t feed that to Sprinkles,” I spit the words out in a flurry. “That’s like sticking a firecracker into a five pound piñata.”

“Oh, honey”—Juni