Lock, Stock, and Feral

  Lock, Stock, and Feral

  Country Cottage Mysteries 15

  Addison Moore

  Bellamy Bloom

  Contents

  Connect with Addison Moore

  Book Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Recipe

  Books by Addison Moore

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom

  Edited by Paige Maroney Smith

  Cover by Lou Harper, Cover Affairs

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom

  Created with Vellum

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  Book Description

  The Country Cottage Inn is known for its hospitality. Leaving can be murder.

  My name is Bizzy Baker Wilder, and I can read minds. Not every mind, not every time but most of the time, and believe me when I say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

  A book club called the Grim Readers has descended on the inn and things take a turn for the deadly when life begins to imitate art. The weather isn’t the only thing heating up in Cider Cove—tempers are flaring, too. Spring is in the air and so is murder.

  Bizzy Baker Wilder runs the Country Cottage Inn, has the ability to pry into the darkest recesses of both the human and animal mind, and has just stumbled upon a body. With the help of her kitten, Fish, a mutt named Sherlock Bones, and an ornery yet dangerously good-looking homicide detective, Bizzy is determined to find the killer.

  Cider Cove, Maine is the premier destination for fun and relaxation. But when a body turns up, it’s the premier destination for murder.

  Chapter 1

  “A book club,” I whisper in my sweet cat’s ear as the makeshift library right here at the Country Cottage Inn begins to fill with bodies for tonight’s literary shenanigans. “Finally something down-to-earth and grounded happening at the inn for once. I can’t see a single thing going wrong tonight.”

  Fish, my sweet, black and white long-haired tabby, lets out a rawr. You don’t mean that, Bizzy. She taps me on the chest with her paws as she does her best to stretch out in my arms. You’re on a murderous streak. I heard Jasper mention it this morning. Fourteen bodies in fourteen months. He says he may have overlooked a double homicide or two, but he wasn’t caffeinated enough to do the murderous math.

  “Very funny.”

  She’s right. My husband, Jasper, did say those exact words, and come to think of it, I’m pretty sure there was a double homicide in there somewhere, too.

  My name is Bizzy Baker Wilder, and I can read minds—not every mind, not every time—but it happens, and believe me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be—with the exception of conversations like these, of course. Yes, I can read the animal mind, too, and by and large, they have better things to say than most humans. I’ve got brown hair, blue eyes, and am average in just about every way with the exception of my aforementioned supernatural ability.

  A body slams against my side as I narrowly move Fish out of the danger zone in time.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry!” A heavy-set woman with long silver hair and pale blue eyes holds her hands spread wide before me as if she were about to steady me. She has on a denim dress and over her shoulder hangs a tote bag with cats embroidered all over it. “I’ve been in such a hurry to get here. I sped all the way to Cider Cove. I was afraid I’d miss the event altogether. My apologies again.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I say, rocking Fish. “We’ve got quite the crowd here tonight. I’m sure there will be a repeat performance soon enough as far as bumping into strangers goes. So where’d you come from?”

  “I live in Rose Glen, so not far, but I was frazzled nonetheless.” A soft smile comes to her face, and I can see that she has kind eyes, but overall she looks a little frayed around the edges. “I guess you could say I’m a little more than excited about tonight’s selection.”

  “Oh? I take it you loved the book,” I muse. “I just finished it last night, and I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed it. What’s not to love about a book that features both cats and murder?”

  She sputters a small laugh. “Well, that’s great that you got a kick out of it. I mean, cozy mysteries aren’t for everybody. But they should be.” She gives a tiny wink before heading straight for the wine station.

  Yes, wine.

  I scan the room and take in the heavenly scent of fresh brewed coffee. The library is more of a spacious sitting room with mahogany paneled walls and wooden floors stained a distressed shade of gray, both of which bleed into the rest of the inn as well. Shelves laden with books line the back of the room that acts as a lending library, and to the left sits a large stone fireplace that’s already roaring with crackling flames. Rows and rows of folding chairs are set out in a circular pattern, along with a few wingback chairs and an overstuffed orange sofa near the back.

  There’s a refreshment table to my right with a coffee station, and I know for a fact a sweet treat is about to land right next to it. At the other end of the table, there’s a spread of various cheeses, along with a bevy of wine to pair it with. It’s not something I would have put out for an event like this—I’m more of a cookies and coffee girl myself—but the woman heading up the book club requested it.

  I scan the crowd and my eyes snag on a man over by where the folding chairs are set out, who seems to be attracting more than his fair share of attention from the ladies.

  Isn’t he the cat’s meow? Fish mewls with a note of sarcasm in her delivery.

  “Seems to be,” I whisper.

  The man in question is tall, dark hair, blond at the tips. I’d say he has a decade on me, late thirties maybe. He’s donned a fitted suit, a silver tie, and has that man-in-power feel about him, along with the fact he’s textbook handsome, which explains why throngs of women are flocking to him by the minute.

  He glances my way, and I quickly revert my attention back to the refreshment table where Jordy, the handyman here at the inn, hoists a wine bottle my way as if he were toasting me and I give a wave back
with one of Fish’s paws.

  I asked Jordy to play the part of the bartender for the evening. Fun fact: Jordy is my ex-husband of one day. Vegas and bad whiskey were involved. Thankfully, my brother had just graduated law school, within his specialty of family law, and he took on my divorce pro bono. Nonetheless, I didn’t want the guests tonight to have to serve themselves the liquor and God forbid a minor get schnockered on my watch. I made sure Jordy would be carding the guests, too.

  Sitting in the middle of the refreshment table is a large purple easel that reads Welcome to the Grim Readers Book Club! Tonight’s selection is Lock, Stock, and Double Barrel Peril! Come for the book. Stay for the murder.

  A shiver runs through me as I read that last sentence, but before I can process it an all too familiar brunette steps in front of me with a conniving smile curving her lips.

  Fish lets out a loud yowl at the sight of her. Wicked witch alert! Run, Bizzy, run! she teases. Or at least I think she’s teasing. Come to think of it, most likely not.

  “Camila,” I say with a note of surprise and Fish recoils at the sight of her.

  Camila Ryder was once my husband’s fiancée. Now she simply stalks him while parading around as his secretary down at the sheriff’s department. But lately she’s donned the hat, or the crown as it were, as the gossip queen of Maine. Camila started a YouTube channel last month called Gossip Gal where she slaps on makeup while noshing on pizza and gabbing about all the local dirt she can dish in an hour.

  She’s tall, gorgeous, and her chestnut hair has a life of its own. She’s stuffed herself into a light blue dress that clings to her every curve, and in her arms she’s cradling a copy of tonight’s book club selection.

  Next to her stands a redhead in jeans and a T-shirt, holding a copy of tonight’s book, too. She has big brown eyes, glossy red lips, and a face that could easily grace a magazine cover or two.

  “Well, if it isn’t our resident amateur sleuth.” Camila gives a sly wink my way. “I’ve got a mystery for you, Bizzy.” She hitches her head back at the redhead. “Meet my friend, Hadley Culpepper. Does the name ring a bell?”

  My mouth opens as I look to the woman, and she offers a timid yet toothy smile my way.

  “I’m sorry, have we met?” I ask as I search her features for answers. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite pinpoint why.

  “I don’t think so,” she says. “And don’t worry. I’m just as confused. Camila has been teasing me, too.” For as much fun as Camila can be, she can be that much of a drama queen. Some things never change. “She’s just been terrible tonight.”

  Fish mewls, So she’s saying Camila is simply being herself.

  “That’s enough for now.” Camila takes the woman by the hand. “We’ll talk soon enough, Bizzy.” And that will be a conversation you will never forget. She waves with her book as they saunter over to the wine station.

  “She’s terrible, all right,” I whisper to Fish.

  When Jasper and I started dating, Camila tried her hardest to get him back, but all of her attempts failed miserably—thankfully for me. She could have landed Jasper the first time around, but she decided to cheat on him with his best friend, Leo. And, well, that ended badly for everyone involved.

  Fish yowls. Would you look at Sherlock? she hisses as her tail whips toward the refreshment table. He’s whimpering like a common beggar. Can’t you control that mutt? Besides, he shouldn’t be snacking. He’s looking a little portly around the edges. It’s time to cut back on the bacon if you ask me.

  Sure enough, Sherlock Bones sits like the rather committed beggar he is, looking up at all of the bodies gathered around the refreshment table with those big brown eyes of his. Sherlock was Jasper’s dog before we were married, and now he’s most certainly mine. I love both Fish and Sherlock as if they were my children.

  Sherlock is a medium-sized mixed breed that sort of looks like a red and white freckled version of a German shepherd. He’s as adorable as he is smart, and he’s far too cunning when it comes to securing a cache of bacon for himself. He can’t help it. Salted meat is his kryptonite.

  I’m about to comment on his portly state when Devan Abner, the woman putting on tonight’s book club meeting, heads my way.

  “Bizzy!” she trills my name with a gleam in her bright amber eyes. Devan is tall, blonde, plain but friendly features, dressed conservatively with corduroys and a floral blouse buttoned to her neck. She had stopped by the inn a couple times to discuss tonight’s gathering of her book club—and to request the wine and cheese. She offered to cover all costs, so I didn’t say no. And she agreed to have Jordy supervise the liquor, which made me feel better about the whole thing.

  “Everything is going so great.” She gives Fish a quick pat on the forehead. “I’m so glad you suggested opening it up to the community. Who knows? The Grim Readers might just score a few more members yet.”

  “The book was adorable,” I tell her. “I have no doubt people will be happy to join.”

  Her attention is momentarily diverted to that swarm of women all clamoring to speak to the handsome man in the suit.

  And there he is. She snarls his way. He thinks he’s got it all together. Life is just so great for him, isn’t it? He wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren’t for me. And tonight, I’ll make sure he never forgets it.

  “Devan?” I lean her way. “Who is that man in the suit that these women can’t seem to get enough of? It’s almost as if a star were in our midst the way they’re going at it.”

  She snorts out a laugh. “That’s Patterson Higgins.”

  “Patterson Higgins? That’s quite a name.”

  “Well, some say he’s quite a guy.” Any trace of a smile falls from her face, her eyes still very much pinned on his. I’m guessing she’s not one of the people who thinks that way. “We’ll start in a few minutes.”

  She takes off toward the refreshment table, and I watch as she makes a beeline for the wine. I’m sensing a theme tonight.

  Fish mewls, Oh, she’s got the hots for him, too, Bizzy. I could see it in her eyes.

  “I bet you’re right.”

  Speaking of eyes, that man in the suit looks my way again, and if I’m not mistaken, it looks as if he’s edging his way in this direction.

  Murder is afoot, a somewhat androgynous voice erupts from the crowd, and it’s muted enough for me to tell it was a passing thought by someone in the crowd, and now I’m left to wonder if they’re right. Unless a person is standing in front of me, it can get tricky to delineate if it came from a man or a woman.

  Murder is afoot?

  My internal radar goes off.

  I can’t help it. After finding so many bodies in such a small spate of time, an actual murder seems rather plausible—almost inevitable at this point. But then again, tonight’s book club selection revolves around a murder, so I’m sure it was nothing more than someone reflecting on the book at hand. Or at least, that’s what I’m hoping.

  “Bizzy!” a female voice shrills from behind and I turn to find my sister, Macy Baker, older by one year, feistier by a millennium. Her short blonde hair curves around her jawline and her bright blue eyes are wide with terror. “Take it”—she thrusts something orange and furry my way and a few seconds tick by before it registers she’s just handed me a small orange tabby with eyes the color of an unblemished afternoon sky. “You know I can’t stand pets unless they belong to someone else.”

  Fish brays out a laugh as she taps her paw over the tiny kitten’s head. It’s true. Macy is hardly a people person, let alone a pet person. But don’t worry. Bizzy more than makes up for it.

  The kitten mewls and shakes but doesn’t say a word in response.

  I don’t say a word either because my sister isn’t in the know when it comes to my supernatural quirk. Only a small handful of people know I have the ability to pry into their gray matter, and I plan on keeping the exclusive club, exclusive.

  The handsome man in the suit pops up next to us and Macy’s mou
th falls open because, let’s be honest, he’s that much more handsome up close.

  “What a cute little kitten,” he says as he gives a quick scratch between the tiny thing’s ears. “I was just coming over to say hi to this one.” He sheds an affable smile in Fish’s direction.

  Macy gags on a laugh. “How about that?” She bats her lashes at him as she scoops the orange tabby right back out of my hand. “No one is a bigger fan of cats than I am,” she says, threading her arm through his and leading him off to the slaughter. Not only is she a brazen liar when the occasion calls for it, but she has an insatiable appetite when it comes to handsome men.

  The warm scent of an all too familiar spiced cologne engulfs me from behind just before a set of strong arms wraps themselves around my body.

  “Rumor has it a gorgeous innkeeper loves to duck out of these kinds of events to head up a fun club of her own.”

  A dark gurgle of a laugh strums through me as I spin in my handsome husband’s arms. Jasper and I met over a year ago while he was working on a case concerning that first body I stumbled upon. He’s the lead homicide detective down in Seaview County, and he’s been my lead man ever since the day we met.

  “The rumors are true,” I say, looking up into his lightning gray eyes. Jasper is handsome to a fault. Dark hair, dark smattering of stubble on his cheeks, and a dangerous smile that’s known to crest on his lips make me swoon anew each time I see him. “But the club is strictly for two. Play your cards right and I’ll indoctrinate you as a full-fledged member a little later.”