Lock, Stock, and Feral by Addison Moore (free e novels .txt) 📕

Emmie is right. I’m exhausted. This entire event has been taxing from the get-go.

I’m being silly. Jasper and I are fine.

I thread my way over to where they’re standing and shed a pained smile to the blonde before us.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” I tell her.

“Oh, he wasn’t my friend.” Devan’s eyes grow in size a moment as if to annunciate her point. She nods up at Jasper. “If you need me at all, you have my number. Excuse me, I see a few of the regular members by the door and I’d like to speak to them before they leave.” She takes off and it’s just Jasper and me.

The air between us feels slightly strained, and I shake my head because I’m positive it’s all in my mind.

“Everything okay?” I ask with caution.

Jasper’s gray eyes widen a moment as he looks deep into mine, and try as I might to read his thoughts, they’re not coming through. All I’m getting is strangled buzz, not the kind of white noise that I pick up on when someone is having naughty thoughts. I’ve always considered that a sort of override system that spares me from accidentally prying into anything too graphic, but this—this feels very much purposeful on his part—almost as if he’s struggling to hide his thoughts from me.

“I’m sorry, Bizzy.” He pulls me close and lands a kiss over the top of my head. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything, but this isn’t the time or place.” He hitches his head toward the body on the floor. “I’d better get moving just in case this turns out to be something nefarious.”

“Sure,” I say, but he’s already gone.

Something nefarious is going on, all right.

I glance back to where Hadley and the lanky man in the sweater stand, and they’ve been joined with Devan as the three of them sneak glances to where Patterson Higgins lies lifeless. Just past them is that woman with the long silver hair, Liv, standing with her lips knotted up as she observes the scene as well.

Someone is going to have to pay for this. And it won’t be me.

A voice spouts off, and yet I can’t be sure who said it.

Pay for this? That’s a curious thought.

My feet carry me in Liv’s direction as I step up beside her, joining her as we watch the sheriff’s department swarm around a man who seemed perfectly healthy less than twenty minutes ago.

“What do you think happened?” I ask without breaking my gaze from the chaos before us.

“Oh, I think we both know what happened,” she says, nodding to the trio to our right. “Someone finally offed the poor man.”

“What do you mean finally?” I ask.

Her pale eyes glow against her tawny skin and her hair looks as if it’s lit from the inside as well. She almost doesn’t look real. In fact, nothing about this night feels real.

“You know.” She gives a casual shrug. “Patterson had a few friends, but he had far more enemies. Then again, rumors of a heart attack are swirling.”

“I’ve heard the same. You don’t believe them, do you?”

She shakes her head. “Perhaps I would have if it were anyone else. Not for him, though. Never him.” She cinches her tote bag over her shoulder. “I guess he won’t be at the next meeting.” She takes off for the refreshment table, and I’m left stunned in the wake of her callous words.

On second thought, I can’t judge her. I can’t judge anyone’s thoughts or words at a time like this. Everyone is in shock. Nobody is themselves when faced with a body in the room, whether a natural death occurred or foul play was involved.

I take a few steps over to Hadley, Devan, and the lanky man ensconced between them.

Is it possible to hate someone twice as much for dying? one of them says, and I take another step closer.

I give it twenty-four hours before news of his demise spreads. We all knew this was coming.

It’s finally happened. Patterson Higgins gets his just desserts, and I get to witness it firsthand. Life couldn’t be better. Death couldn’t be sweeter.

It wasn’t some run-of-the-mill heart attack that did him in.

It was murder.

Chapter 4

“Blueberry pancakes, lobster roll, lobster pie, clam chowder, crispy clams, clambake weekends. And for dessert, I say we focus on several flavors of whoopie pies,” Emmie says as we stand on the sprawling patio just outside the Country Cottage Café. Fish and Sherlock are taking Clyde for an afternoon run up and down the sandy cove, and they have about twelve different children running along after them.

It’s April, spring is here, the air is warm, and the cove is brimming with tourists in bathing suits as the scent of fresh grilled burgers competes with coconut-scented suntan lotion.

Emmie heads up the café for me, and since I firmly hold the reins to the inn now, we’ve decided to make a few changes, one of which is a total revamp of the menu. Not only that, but I splurged for an entire outdoor grilling area that was recently installed as a way to feed those guests who are far too sandy and wet to venture into the café.

The Country Cottage Inn is a tall, stately building constructed primarily of blue cobblestones, much like the ones that snake around all of the arteries leading to and from the inn. Although it’s hard to tell what color the inn is considering it’s nearly camouflaged in ivy. The property is set on a vast acreage, and there are more than thirty cottages we rent out. Jasper and I happen to live in one, Emmie lives in another, and Georgie lives in one as well.

There’s a pet daycare center in the back of the inn that caters to both the guests and the townspeople of Cider Cove called Critter Corner. I had come up with the idea because I didn’t have the heart to turn away guests with pets. And thanks to my love for all things