Page 26 of A Whisker in the Night (Country Cottage Mysteries #29)

T he fireplace in our cottage crackles with what might be the season’s last hurrah. Spring nights in Maine are warming up, but tonight there’s just enough chill in the air to justify one more cozy evening by the fire. Not that I’m complaining. Between the dancing flames, the woodsy scent of smoke, and Jasper’s strong arms wrapped snugly around me, this might as well be heaven.

You hoomans and your obsession with fire , Fish meows from her perch on the mantel as her tail gives a lazy swish. I suppose it does make for a decent ambiance, but I much prefer the electric heater. Far less crackling and far more heat.

Agree. But it’s the perfect napping temperature, Jellybean adds, her voice already heavy with sleep as she gives a luxurious stretch.

Everything is the perfect napping temperature for you two, Sherlock chimes in from his oversized bed near the hearth. Though I wouldn’t mind some company on this prime real estate. Naps are best when you have someone to snuggle with.

To my surprise, both cats decide to take him up on the offer, curling up on either side of their furry canine friend and creating what has to be the most unlikely cuddle puddle in Cider Cove history.

I’ll admit, the sight of Sherlock flanked by two snoozing felines is heartwarming.

The baby gives a sudden kick as if it were a nod of approval for the sudden burst of furry harmony.

I lean back into Jasper’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back and my mind begins to race with the revelation I had earlier.

I shake my head as I watch the flames dance. “It didn’t occur to me until those flowers practically flew in my face that Georgie’s scammer might have come from that mystery delivery she got—on the day of the murder, no less.”

Jasper’s chin brushes the top of my head as he shifts. “Leo and I looked into it. Turns out, QR codes are a scammer’s golden ticket. One scan and they can basically set up a second home in your bank account. Or more to the point, buy one with the money they steal.”

“Okay, that’s terrifying.” I watch as he pulls up article after article about QR code scams on his phone. “So they just... what? Create a fake code that looks legitimate and suddenly they have access to your entire life?”

“Pretty much.” He scrolls through a particularly alarming report. “They can redirect to fake websites, install malware, even access your camera and microphone.”

My stomach twists, and not just because the baby has chosen this moment to somersault like they’re training for the nationals in gymnastics, they apparently share my digital privacy concerns.

“What kind of place is this?” I turn slightly to face him and can’t help feeling more than a little overwhelmed. “Jasper, we’re bringing a baby into this big, scary world where people steal your money through flower deliveries and murder people with chocolate bunnies.”

“Hey— whoa .” Jasper sets his laptop aside and pulls me closer as his hand rests on my belly. “Don’t go borrowing trouble.” He lands a kiss on the top of my head. “There’s still so much good in the world.”

I scoff at the thought. “Like what?”

“Like the beach.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Like this cottage. Like the fact that Sherlock, Fish, and Jellybean have somehow formed a truce long enough to take a nap together.”

Temporary truce, Fish says as she gives Sherlock a gentle swish with her tail. Let’s not get carried away.

“My point stands,” Jasper says with a rumble of a laugh that trembles through his chest. “There’s still Christmas, Easter, chocolate eggs—especially the ones Emmie makes—and now this tiny human who already has better instincts than most adults I know.”

I laugh despite myself. “You’re good, you know that?”

“Not as good as you,” he counters, brushing a kiss against my temple. “You’ve got this way of making people—everyone, really—feel seen, feel important. It’s one of the many reasons you’re going to be an incredible mom.”

My heart squeezes tight as I look up at him. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he says, landing a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re kind, you’re brave, and you never back down from a challenge. Plus, you’ve got this innate ability to find joy in the smallest things. Like solving a murder—or indulging in chocolate bunnies.”

“Jasper Wilder, are you flirting with me?” I tease as I give his ribs a gentle tweak.

“Always.” He gives my ribs a tweak right back and I jump with a laugh. “And I’ll tell you this much—you’re going to be the kind of mom who makes this kid feel like they can take on the world. Because you take on the world every single day, Bizzy. And somehow, you still find time to make sure everyone around you feels loved.”

Tears sting my eyes, and I quickly blink them away. “You’re not so bad yourself, Detective Wilder. I mean, you already look at me as if I hung the moon, and I’m currently the size of it.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his tone perfectly serious. “The world is still a good place, Bizzy. I promise.”

“You’re right,” I sigh, relaxing against him. “Plus, this baby is going to have the world’s best dad.”

“And the world’s most amazing mom. Though possibly the most trouble-prone.”

“ Hey ,” I protest with a laugh. “I prefer to think of myself as adventure-adjacent.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” He grins. “Because I’m pretty sure normal pregnant women don’t solve murders between birthing classes.”

“Normal is overrated,” I tell him. “Never mind that I haven’t started birthing classes. Besides, our kid is clearly a detective already. Did you notice how they always kick when we’re onto something?”

The baby obliges with a well-timed somersault.

“See?” I pat my belly.

He gives a little laugh. “They’ve got your instincts.”

“And my appetite,” I wince as I say it.

“I did see you eyeing my dinner.”

“I am eating for two.” I sink a little in his arms. “Although some days I’m not sure if it’s for two people or two football teams.”

“You can have my dinner any day of the week,” he says, pulling me close. “Besides, we’re working on building our own football team.” He stands and quickly scoops me into his arms as if I were as light as a marshmallow Peep. “Come on, Detective Baker Wilder. I think it’s time for bed.”

“But I’m not sleepy,” I say with a laugh.

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

“Jasper!” I yelp, laughing as I cling to his neck for dear life— two dear lives. “I’m perfectly capable of walking, you know.”

“Yeah, but this is more fun,” he says, trotting me toward the bedroom.

“How many people make up a football team, anyway?” I ask, amused at the thought of us building our own.

“About fifty-three.”

“What?” I laugh as I swat him. “You are crazy.”

“Crazy about you.”

Watch it, buddy, Fish calls after us. Just because you have a few muscles doesn’t mean you should carry around a pregnant woman like she’s a throw pillow. I abide by the adage that just because you can doesn’t mean you should.

Says the cat who once got stuck in an Easter basket, Sherlock is quick to remind her.

That was one time! Fish protests. And it was a deceptively spacious-looking basket.

The chatter among the three of them dissolves as Jasper carries me over the threshold of our bedroom.

The baby gives another quick kick, and it’s a gentle reminder of the football team we’re building—I mean, life we’re building together—and I can’t help but think that for all its madness and QR code scams, this world isn’t so bad. Not when I have Jasper Wilder by my side.

However, I make a mental note to make sure there are no QR codes involved in my baby registry. You can never be too prepared.

Speaking of preparation, if I want to catch a killer before the Easter Bunny arrives, I had better hop to it.

Or else someone out there might just get away with murder.