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

no better way to get a bunch of rich people hopped up in fear than threatening to strip them of their diamonds.” She chuckles at the thought. I’ve done it a few times myself.

Figures.

Georgie holds Rudolph against her shoulder and pats his back as if trying to comfort him just as my mother strides up.

“Are you trying to burp him or beat him?” Mom excavates Rudolph from Georgie’s arms. “Come here, you poor sweet thing. Bizzy, where is Quinn Bennet? I’d like to give him an official invite to our store opening next week. I bet an entire honey hive of socialites will follow him over. Not to mention it’ll be the bees knees to be seen at our place after that.” She swats Juni and they share a cackle.

Juni shakes her head. “That man ain’t showin’ up to no quilt shop. I’ve met men like Quinn before. He won’t even look in that direction unless you’ve got a young hot thing standing naked in your storefront.”

“Good idea.” Mom snaps her fingers. “Bizzy, what are you doing a week from today?”

“Funny, Mother,” I say, and Fish chortles as if she thought it was hilarious, too.

Fish presses her paws against my chest. You’d have no problem walking around in the nude if you just stop shaving. Take a break from the razor and I bet you’ll sprout fur all over in no time.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I whisper.

“What’s that?” Mom tips her ear my way. “What’s going on here, Bizzy? I have my cats to get home to and Leo just announced we’re not allowed to leave the building. I think we all know I’d make a jewel thief pretty unhappy.” She holds up her bare left hand. “So if you don’t mind, I’d like to cut out early.”

“It has nothing to do with jewelry,” I say. “Something happened to Quinn.”

Juni sucks in a quick breath. “They’ve kidnapped him!”

“Kidnapped who?” someone in the crowd shouts.

“Nobody,” I shout back, half-afraid I’ll set the room ablaze with rumors. “The sheriff’s department has it all handled.”

Georgie grunts, “Haven’t you learned anything by now, Bizzy? You need to give the people answers before things get wildly out of control. She cups her hand to her mouth. “They’ve captured your leader and they’re coming for the rest of you!”

A round of gasps goes off in the room, followed by dramatic murmuring.

Juni cups her mouth as well and I cringe. “And they’ve unleashed an army of mice in the room, too!”

Half the women hop onto a chair and scream, and I’m half-tempted to join them.

“Would you hush!” I shoot the mother-daughter rumormongering duo a look before I step deeper into the room. “Um, hello,” I shout and garner everyone’s attention at once. “I’m Bizzy Baker—um, Wilder…” Good Lord, I don’t know if I can ever get used to having three names. It’s certainly not convenient when shouting at a panicked crowd. “I’m sorry to inform you, but a very serious crime has been committed on the premises.”

A woman with a gold dress lets out a harrowing cry. “We’re being held hostage, aren’t we?”

“What?” I glance to Leo who is quickly making his way in this direction while slitting his throat with his finger in an effort to stop me from making it worse. “No. There are no terrorists.” Or at least I hope not.

“Then there’s a burglary in process,” someone else shouts.

“No,” I’m quick to answer. “Not that. I promise. You’re all safe.”

Fish purrs, As safe as they can be with a killer on the loose.

Sherlock whimpers, A killer who wants to chop us all to pieces.

“Is there a killer on the loose?” someone shouts from afar, and I open my mouth then close it.

“There is! Isn’t there?” the woman in the gold dress howls, and I cringe because I can’t bring myself to lie to these people.

Macy and Eve French step this way.

“Bizzy?” Macy hisses with that annoyed look she gets when I’m embarrassing her. “Say something or these people are going to think there’s a killer on the loose.”

Eve gasps. “You can’t deny it, can you?” Her eyes round out. “There’s been a murder!”

The word murder echoes around the room like a demonic whisper.

Warwick staggers forward as if he were mortally wounded himself. “Who’s been killed?” he shouts as if speaking for the rest of crowd, and at this point he pretty much is.

The blonde woman, Angelica, the one who sang that gorgeous rendition of “Silent Night,” traipses forward.

“Where’s Quinn?” She gives a frenetic glance around. “My goodness, it was Quinn, wasn’t it?”

Leo tweaks his brows at me. Way to keep the crowd under control.

I shoot him a look. Ironically, that was your job.

Eve staggers forward. “Is it true? Is Quinn Bennet dead?” Her eyes are wide, her chest heaving with her every breath.

“It’s true,” I hear myself say, regardless if I wanted to or not. It seemed inevitable, inescapable even.

Warwick clutches at his chest. “My dear friend.” You’ve met your fate at last.

Eve nods as if she heard his inner rambling. A loss or a gain for the world... I can’t quite decide.

Angelica’s lips flicker. And now to relax until the reading of the will. It’s shaping up to be the best holiday season yet.

The room stirs with conversation as the words dead, Quinn Bennet, and reading of the will go off like the chorus to a very sad song—with the exception that no one seems particularly sad about it.

A swarm of deputies enters the room, and soon they’re taking the names and numbers of those in attendance.

Who knew my wildest dream would come true tonight? a voice calls out from deep in the heart of this madness, and I can’t tell if it was a woman or a man.

How I hope he left it all to me. I deserve it—hell, I’ve earned it, another voice adds to the chaos.

A woman lets out a whoop of a cry just a few feet away, and I look over to find Georgie with that wonky