Footfalls pound our way as Jasper and Leo show up, both reaching for their weapons before thinking better of it. Too many civilians. Too many phones out and recording.
Leo drops to his knees and checks Brittany for a pulse, pressing two fingers against her neck. He holds for a beat, then shakes his head at Jasper.
“She’s gone,” he says just above a whisper. “I’ll call it in,” Leo says, stepping away and pulling out his phone.
Leo would be Emmie’s husband, and Jasper’s best friend. They happen to work together just the way Emmie and I do.
“Everyone back!” Jasper calls out as the women begin to whimper and wail. He steps over to Mackenzie and me anddoes a double take at that crimson-slicked knife in her hand. “What the—” He turns to me, wild-eyed. “I’d ask what happened, but I think I know.”
“You don’t,” Mackenzie seethes, still gripping the knife like it’s evidence she can explain away through sheer force of will. “I tripped and fell and I used this stupid knife to help myself up. And it’s all because of that yappy little yip-yip.” She wields the blade in the direction of the small terrier who’s been losing his mind for the last few minutes.
And now we know why.
The dog continues to bark, frantic and high-pitched, as Fish and Sherlock bound over.
She got another one!Fish yowls.I think Emmie wins the betting pool.
Wonderful. I make eyes at my four-footed feline friend.
Don’t look at me like that, Bizzy,Fish mewls.You should be happy for your bestie. I think she’s made close to a hundred dollars tonight.
Apparently, I could make Emmie a very rich woman if I wanted to.
And if you’re good,Sherlock barks with glee,I bet she’ll take you to lunch somewhere fancy with it, too.
Lucky me.
But unlucky Brittany,I think as I wince in her direction.
The poor little terrier begins to howl and whimper, and both Fish and Sherlock quickly cage it in, herding it away from the chaos with surprising gentleness.
“That was Brittany’s dog,” someone shouts from the crowd.
I blink. “That dog belonged to Brittany?”
I could have sworn it belonged to the nervous blonde who was arguing with her earlier. Shows what I know.
Blaire steps up, with the moonlight giving her auburn hair silver highlights. “Yes, that’s Biscuit Gravy. Brittany’s baby.” Her voice cracks. “Oh, that poor thing. I hope it’s going to be okay.”
Sloane steps forward, her blonde bob shorn close and looking like a doppelganger of my sister Macy right about now. “You’ll need to feed it premium dog food,” she says, looking right at Mackenzie. “And I hear it likes a good mani-pedi on a weekly schedule.”
“What are you looking at me for?” Mackenzie squawks. “I’m not taking care of the flea bag. I’ve got one of my own.”And a kid. And a thriving YouTube channel. And a husband. And a town to manage.“If anyone’s taking in the barking runt, it’ll be Bizzy.” She nods my way.
“You heard the woman,” Sloane says with a small smile. “Biscuit Gravy has premium culinary needs and likes his paws polished weekly.”
Paws polished? And what kind of name is Biscuit Gravy?
My mouth opens to protest, but before I can get a word out, Tamsin steps up with an irritated look plastered across her face. “I can’t believe this happened. And now we have to deal with it on our annual staycation.” She gives Mackenzie an accusing look. “I thought we made it clear we didn’t want to be part of the murder mystery games you people play around here.”
I gag on a laugh.
Murder mystery games? Right. Because I schedule these things on my calendar between grocery shoppingand maintenance at the inn.
For a wellness coach, she’s awfully negative.
Jasper takes me by the elbow. “Bizzy, can I talk to you for a second?”
He pulls me a few steps away from the crowd, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
