A Christmas to Dismember by Addison Moore (best desktop ebook reader TXT) 📕

Grady pretends to drop another donut, and this time both Sherlock and Rudolph dive for it at once and a growling fest ensues.

“Grady.” I shoot him a look.

“What?” he asks with a laugh caught in his throat. “They’re plain donuts. Humans don’t like those. They’re practically dog food to begin with.”

“The point is, they’re not dog food. And Rudolph has already informed me he’s a donut fanatic.”

Nessa moans as she pulls a pink cruller off the platter Emmie dropped off a while ago, along with a basket of her peppermint bark. Initially, I had Emmie bring them for the guests, but Nessa, Grady, and I haven’t been able to keep our hands off them.

Who could blame us? It’s freezing outside, Christmas is swooping in at supersonic speeds, the guests are cranky, we’re cranky, and the only thing we want to fuel our bodies with is deep-fried confections and peppermint bark—and coffee, lots and lots of coffee.

“I’m a donut fanatic, too, Rudolph.” Nessa reaches down and gives him a pat. “If Bizzy ever tries to withhold a sweet treat, you just find me.”

Grady nods my way. “So what’s going on with the inn? Is it being sold off? Are we losing our jobs?”

A small wailing sound comes from Nessa. “I can’t lose my job at Christmas, Bizzy. Who’s going to pay my credit cards off come January? I’ll lose my apartment. I’ll lose my car. Peanut and I will be homeless and carless, too.” Peanut is the cute little puppy she adopted last year. It just so happens that his owner was murdered right here at the inn, but that case was solved, and I have no doubt this one will be, too. She takes another bite of her cruller. “Who knew when they hacked Quinn Bennet to pieces they hacked my life to pieces, too?”

“He wasn’t hacked to pieces.” I wince because she’s not entirely wrong. “And would you keep it down? I don’t want to freak the guests out.” I glance out at the festive garland and red bows dotting the railing that lead to the second story, and my heart aches at the thought of the inn being sold off, but I really don’t see another way. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to the inn, but I guess we’ll know soon enough. As for now, it’s business as usual.”

Until the rug is ripped out from under us.

And the way my luck has been as of late, that should take place in about five hot minutes.

A tall, broad-chested man in a dark coat steps into the foyer and makes his way over, and I recognize that scraggly beard and those twinkling eyes.

“Warwick.” I slide off my stool and offer him a cheery grin. “Nice to see you again. What brings you around this afternoon?”

“Nice to see you again, Bizzy.” He gives Fish a quick scratch behind her ears, and one of her hind legs thumps with delight. “Looks as if I’ve hit the sweet spot.” He gives a husky laugh. “I was just stopping by to let you know I was contacted by the estate lawyer. It was Quinn’s request to hold the reading of the will here in the library. The attorney wanted to schedule it for this Monday at two in the afternoon if that works for you. I told him I’d stop by and ask.”

“That’s fine. I’ll have refreshments and some snacks available. I’m sure a meeting like that can be tense.”

He tips his head. “It will be. You have a formal invitation from the attorney. I’m sure Quinn wanted you to be apprised of everything from start to finish. Especially the fate of the inn.”

“Thank you. I’ll be glad to be there. I’m on pins and needles just waiting to see what he has planned for this place.”

Warwick balls up his lips. “I have a feeling he’ll have it absorbed into his real estate holdings.” He sheds what appears to be a manufactured smile. “You’ll be fine.” A little overhaul, and this dingy old inn will be a modern oasis. We’ll have every socialite in Manhattan clamoring to have a room here.

I take in a breath and hold it.

A modern oasis? What’s wrong with having a quaint little inn? And I take umbrage with that dingy remark. I work tirelessly to make sure this place is clean as a whistle.

“Warwick, who do you think will take possession of the inn if it’s absorbed into his real estate holdings? A board?”

“No stuffy board. I’m sure whoever it will be, they’ll be just as excited about this property as you are.” And I am. I’ll have this place producing twice the income. He gives a sly smile. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a look around. I haven’t been here in years, and the other night, well, I didn’t see much but the ballroom and the garden.”

“Absolutely. Would you like a tour? I can call the grounds manager, Jordy. He knows every nuance of this inn.”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’d like a moment to reflect and think of Quinn. Sort of my way of paying my respects.”

“I completely understand.”

He takes off, and I watch him as he leaves.

Fish stands and lashes her tail my way. What is it, Bizzy? Why are you looking at him that way? Is he the killer?

“No, not that,” I whisper as I pick her up and kiss her. “But I get the feeling he might be the new owner of the inn.” A hard sigh expels from me. “Let’s hope I can convince him we can increase the revenue without turning this place into a steel and glass modern monster.”

A slew of new guests head in, and both Nessa and Grady tend to them. And on their heels is a feisty blonde in a fitted red peacoat storming my way.

“Hey, Macy,” I say. “Are you ready to rock and roll?”

I thought I’d do