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

Georgie balks at the idea, “Why would I want to sit with her when I can sit next to you?” Her head does an odd wobble as she gives his beard a pinch. “Have I ever told you I’ve got a weakness for men with a good Vandyke?”

A warm laugh expels from him. “A woman who knows her beards. Please allow me to buy you a drink. I’m afraid we haven’t met before.” He holds a hand out her way. “Warwick Tully.”

“Sounds to me as if we’ve been wasting time. With a beard like that, I bet you play an instrument, too. Let me guess, the tuba?”

He belts out a full-bellied laugh. “Close. Saxophone. What’s your name, hot stuff?”

Saxophone. I avert my eyes a moment. I dated a guy once in college who played the sax and he almost ripped my head off when I dared to touch it. He let me know the brass is sensitive to the oil from people’s fingertips. Turns out, I was sensitive to people almost ripping my head off and we parted ways soon thereafter.

“Georgie Conner, superfan of fuzzy faces the world over. And that’s my keeper, Bizzy.” She makes a face my way, but I’m thankful she’s chosen to include me in her intro. Once Georgie starts to dominate a conversation, trying to interject is like trying to stick a post in dry cement.

Warwick inches back as he turns to examine me. “Bizzy? Is that you?” Another warm laugh strums from him.

I pull my nose off momentarily. “The one and only. But just between you and me, I’m really digging the disguise. I might just wear it around the inn for the rest of the month.”

“You’ll catch an eye or two.” He gives a friendly wink. “What brings you out this way?”

I wonder if this has anything to do with the reading of the will? Would Joe have contacted her?

I nod out of reflex. I did receive a phone call from Joseph Goodyear, Quinn’s attorney. He officially requested I be in the room during the reading of the will. He tipped me off and said that Quinn had some kind sentiments toward me and a special message. I can’t wait to hear it. Even though we weren’t terribly close, I really do miss him.

“Actually—” I glance back to the dance floor where a crowd has gathered around that keg once again. Only this time it’s not Macy doing a handstand while having hops and barley shot into her mouth. It’s Juni. A girl in a Dexter sweatshirt strides by and that’s my cue. “I went to Dexter.” I shrug over at him. “The alumni are always invited to these kinds of event. I was the official monitor of my dorm.” True story.

Georgie pretends to retch. “That’s code for tattletale.” She rolls her eyes at him. “I bet that’s where she got the nickname Buzzkill Bizzy.”

“That is not my nickname,” I’m quick to refute the less than fun-loving moniker.

“So she says.” Georgie elbows him. “Don’t listen to her. Once Bizzy Baker Wilder heads into the room, the fun-o’-meter starts to spin in the wrong direction.” She leans a notch closer to him. “Don’t tell her I said this—they don’t exactly send her any invites to these shindigs. But you know how it goes, it’s hard to keep the party police off the scene of the crime.”

A robust laugh bucks from him. “Oh, I’ve known a few people like that.”

The bartender comes by, and Warwick has us each order up a drink.

“Make mine a virgin,” I say. “I’m driving.”

“Make mine a double,” Georgie calls out. “I’m having my good time and hers.” She gives Warwick’s beard a quick tickle. “And if you play your cards right, we can have a good time ourselves. I’ve got a cache of chocolate chip cookies back at my place and a bottle of moonshine I bought out of the trunk of some guy’s car down in Edison last week.”

“Georgie,” I say as I shake my head at her. “That’s illegal and probably deadly. When did you pick this up?”

“While you were showing off your stems in the kick line. You’re not the only one who knows how to break a rule now and then. Besides, Christmas is coming right up. I’ve got a naughty list to make my way onto. I had to start somewhere. Don’t worry, Biz. You might just find a bottle of white lightning under the tree on the big day yourself. He was running a special, and I needed to do a little Christmas shopping. He needed cash, and I needed a gift that would keep on giving. Talk about right place, right time.” Her fingers walk up Warwick’s arm. “Sort of like now.”

Warwick nuzzles his nose her way, and my jaw goes slack.

Has she lost her mind? She does realize this is my rodeo, right?

“Don’t listen to her, Warwick,” I say. “If you play your cards wrong, they’ll be hauling you out of her cottage in a few hours, unconscious. And there’s a very good chance you won’t wake up after she gives you that rat poison.”

He shakes his head as a silent laugh bumps through his chest.

“You girls are a hoot.” He pauses a moment as he looks my way. “Wait a minute. Did she say your surname was Wilder? As in Detective Wilder?”

Great.

“Yes, actually.” I sigh because in the past, any mention of Jasper has even the most innocent of people clamming up. “We just got married this past September.”

“Well, congratulations. Is there any news on the case? I can’t believe someone would so brazenly do something like this.” Brazen is as brazen does.

“No word. I was hoping they’d solve this before Christmas, but the holiday is just about here and the case is growing colder by the day.” I don’t dare tell him what I learned about Arthur. “Did you happen to see Quinn after the show? I mean,