Page 25 of A Whisker in the Night (Country Cottage Mysteries #29)

“ W

hat’s the hot topic?” Jasper asks as he lands a cool kiss to my lips.

Both he and Leo just finished up a workout session on the beach that involved a football, lots of sweating, and lots of well-defined muscles glinting in the sunset.

“Hammie Mae’s birth plan,” Emmie chimes as they both fall into a seat here on the patio of the Country Cottage Café. The furry among us are still chasing one another’s tails up and down the cove. “Bizzy just gave me the full rundown.” She pats Leo on the arm. “How fast do you think we could import bamboo sheets from Japan?”

“Don’t forget the violin trio,” I tell her, snagging another one of those chocolate peanut butter eggs.

“Geez,” Jasper muses, snapping up a chocolate egg of his own. “Did she mention having a chef on standby in case she gets hungry during labor?”

“There’s no eating allowed during labor,” I tell him with a tip of my head. “That was the first thing I looked into.” I shrug over at Emmie and Leo. “What can I say? I like snacks.” I take a bite out of the peanut butter chocolate egg as if to prove my point.

“The chef actually sounds sensible,” Leo says. “After all, I’ll be there and there’s nothing stopping me from eating.”

“Except for me,” Emmie says as she knocks her elbow into his. “Speaking of having a chef on standby, I hired a team of chefs to take over once I’m on maternity leave,” she assures me. “And they are the best of the best.”

“Thank you,” I tell her. “And no rush to come back. I want you to spend as much time with your little one as you like.” I already made it clear to Emmie that she could take off indefinitely if she wanted. But as it stands, Emmie feels the need to cook for the masses as much as she needs to breathe. Sort of the way I feel about hunting down killers. I’d say her job was safer, but let’s face it, if I were in the kitchen, my life would be in twice the danger than it is around a killer.

The pets come back and promptly crash at our feet. And as if right on cue, the kitchen staff brings out bowls of fresh water for our furry entourage, along with treats that Sherlock inhales as if he’s preparing for hibernation.

Dinner arrives shortly after—seafood chowder and fresh sourdough for Jasper, a turkey club sandwich for Leo, a garden salad with shrimp for Emmie, and a burger the size of my head for me.

The baby does a happy dance as I take my first bite.

Oh, I’m going to miss Emmie at the helm in this kitchen. Her recipes are simply the best.

Jasper leans in. “Will anyone here lose their appetite if we talk suspects for a bit?” he asks before he shifts into detective mode.

“Oh hon”—Emmie gurgles a dark laugh—“I couldn’t lose my appetite if a parade of headless zombies marched out onto the sand.” She nods my way. “And Bizzy’s appetite only increases when criminals are mentioned.”

“You know me so well.” I blow her a kiss as a form of appreciation.

“Let’s see”—Jasper sighs—“I’ve got Matilda, Verity, and Hammie Mae on my list.” He looks my way. “Anyone else?”

“Nope,” I say. “Although Matilda is the only one with a strong motive so far.” I take another bite out of my big, juicy burger and try to keep the ketchup from decorating my blouse. “She’s hiding something big about herself, and Hamish was threatening to spill it.”

“I think Hammie Mae has a motive, too,” Emmie points out. “I mean, everyone knows she cut off her father after he had that affair. She was mortified because of it. And she’s so close to her mom. I bet her heart was broken for her poor mother, too.”

Leo nods. “Heartbreak is a stronger motive than you might think. But does she have it in her to kill? She seems more likely to kill you with a PowerPoint about organic baby food.”

“Touché.” I tip my glass of lemonade his way. “And then there’s Verity,” I say, watching my burger slowly lose its structural integrity. “She’s trying so hard to seem innocent, she might as well have the word suspicious tattooed on her forehead. Although I don’t have anything to back my claim. It’s just a hunch.”

“I trust your hunches,” Jasper says with a curve of his lips and sends my hormones spiking once again.

Was that an invitation?

I bite down on a smile.

Why, I have a hunch I know exactly what we’ll be doing later.

Leo clears his throat with a laugh.

“Would you stop listening in on my thoughts?” I tease. Only I’m not really teasing.

Jasper leans back. “Exactly what kinds of thoughts are you having?”

“I’ll clue you in later,” I say with a wink and we all share a dark laugh.

“As for the homicide—we need more evidence.” Jasper leans back and crosses his arms. “Something concrete.”

Jellybean lifts her tiny little head. What about the fact that Matilda was supposed to pay alimony to Hamish?

“I forgot about that,” I say as I quickly relay her thoughts to the non-mind readers among us.

“Now that’s another strong motive,” Jasper says.

Leo nods. “Two strikes against Matilda.”

“I don’t like the direction this is heading in,” I say with a sigh. “Matilda is such a great woman and she’s built back the farm after Hamish nearly destroyed it. I guess he and Verity weren’t the business dream team that they professed to be.”

Emmie nods. “That’s because they were too busy fooling around to tend to any actual business.”

“And that’s why I hate that all of the evidence is pointing to Matilda,” I say.

“I do, too,” Jasper says, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’ll do some more digging.”

“ We’ll do some more digging,” I say, giving him a squeeze right back.

“Okay, but please try to relegate your investigative superpowers to a laptop,” he suggests. “The last thing I want is you and the baby in the line of danger. I’ll take it from there.”

“You bet,” I say.

Sherlock sniffs. Notice how she didn’t make any promises.

That’s because she knows she can’t keep them, Fish points out.

They’re both right.

I shoot a look to Leo that amounts to a threat if he says a single word, and he laughs and holds up his hands as if he were staying out of it.

Leo Granger is a very smart man. But then, I knew that when he married my bestie.

Gatsby stands abruptly from under the table, and every one of our dinners jumps in the air a good foot as if they suddenly animated to life.

Sherlock and Cinnamon bark. Fish and Jellybean scatter. And just before my burger is about to hit the ground, Sherlock opens his mouth and swallows what’s left of my dinner.

But it’s not the flying food that has my attention, it’s those bushy peonies that are flying through the air.

The flowers!

I gasp as I look over at Jasper.

“I know exactly how those scammers vacuumed out Georgie’s bank account.”