A Christmas to Dismember, Addison Moore [howl and other poems .TXT] 📗

“Not to worry.” I drop a kiss to Fish’s ear because I meant it just as much for her. “How are you doing? Has it sunk in yet that Quinn gave you so much? And those kind words. Clearly he loved you.”

Tears come to her eyes instantly. “I don’t think it will ever sink in. But we’re excited.”

“Especially about the beach house,” Elsie adds. “And about dinner tomorrow night at the inn.”

“Oh”—Eve holds out a hand—“I hope you don’t mind. Macy just extended the invite.”

I spot Arthur across the street speaking to Macy right this very minute.

“No, not at all,” I tell her. “In fact, I look forward to seeing you both there.”

Elsie hands Rudolph to me. “I can’t wait. Just spending Christmas Eve with my sweet Ruddy will be a present in and of itself.” She shoots a glance to her mother. “But not the only gift of the day.”

I give a little laugh. “Enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

A crowd bustles past me, and by the time I thread my way through it, Macy is back in her shop and Arthur is walking up the street.

“Arthur,” I call after him, and he turns my way.

“Hey, Bizzy.” He gives a wistful tick of the head as he quickly gives both Rudolph and Sherlock a scratch behind the ears. He’s wrapped in a plaid jacket and has a thick green scarf bundled around his neck, making him look perfectly cozy for the frosty weather. “Congratulations on getting the inn. You must be thrilled. I’ll keep the account with my company going for as long as you like. And if you have any questions, feel free to contact me. I’m pulling for you.” He dots Fish’s nose with his finger.

“Thank you, I really appreciate that. And I think I just saw you speaking to my sister.”

“Tracy?”—he winces—“I mean Macy. I guess I misunderstood her the night we met.” Or she wanted to give me an alias, and I couldn’t blame her for that. “Anyway, I hope it’s all right, but Macy just invited me to the inn for dinner tomorrow night.”

“It’s more than all right. Can I ask you a question about Quinn?”

“Anything.”

“That night he was killed, you were in the garden with him. Did you happen to mention that detail to the sheriff’s department?”

He winces. “I think so? Honestly, I can’t remember anymore. I was in shock that night. Like I said before, at the start of the evening I was angry with Quinn. The guy was squeezing me financially, and I was at a breaking point. And then I happened to bump into someone I really liked. After I had a few words with Quinn, I bumped into her again.” He glances in the direction of Macy’s shop. “Let’s just say I thought the night was ending on a good note for me.” And personally, I’m glad I couldn’t recall it at the time. The last thing I need is to be pinned for another murder I didn’t commit. I hope whoever did this to him suffers just the way they made him suffer.

I give a solemn nod.

And just like that, Arthur Silver, my sister’s date for Christmas Eve dinner, is wiped off the suspect list. If he had said those words to me, I would have doubted him. But he said it with the utmost sincerity—to himself.

My head juts forward. “Did Quinn ever mention Angelica?”

He offers a vacant glance to the crowd. “He did. He said his job that night was to avoid her at every cost. She was costing him money. Quinn had a low tolerance for two things—breaking the law and money-sucking leeches. He strongly believed in people making their own way in this world and keeping it above board while doing so.”

“He was a wise man. I wish I had saved some of the emails he sent me instead of deleting them. Looking back, they’d be invaluable to me now.”

“I have full access to his email account. I have the login information if you want. He kept a log of his online access codes with me. Just let me know when and I’ll shoot it over to you.” His phone rings and he chuckles. “I’d better take this. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Will do.” I watch as he walks away and whispers my sister’s name into the phone.

Figures. Macy is smitten and she can’t go two minutes without talking to the guy.

I scan the crowd and see the very woman I was hoping to find standing near the refreshment tables just a few doors down and head on over.

The blonde with the dark-framed glasses looks my way just as she snaps up a piece of peppermint bark.

“It’s not the holidays until I’ve had my fill of candy parading around as a cookie.” She gives a jovial wink. “How are you doing, Bizzy? Excited about the inn?”

“I’m thrilled,” I say as I examine Angelica Chatfield in this murderous new light. She’s wrapped in a cheery red wool coat with a red and white striped scarf and it looks like the perfect Christmas pairing. “The inn was a nice surprise. You didn’t seem too pleased with what he left you. I’m sorry about that.”

She sighs as she blows a kiss to Fish.

“You win some, you lose some. I guess Quinn didn’t owe me nothing.” He did, but saying it out loud makes me sound entitled. And so what if I do? Quinn was my best friend for a time. He knew I made bad choices with men, in business, and with my money. He had one job—to be there for me at every cost.

Fish mewls her way, She’s the killer, isn’t she, Bizzy?

Rudolph gives a sharp bark. It’s the woman from the garden.

My blood runs cold as Sherlock whimpers.

Where’s Jasper? Sherlock barks. We’ve gone down this road one too many times. I think we should call Jasper to the scene. All we’ve got to defend ourselves with is