Page 25

“ The killer is in custody?” Mom looks shocked by the turn of events as the party here inside the ballroom is still going strong.

“Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” is belting out over the speakers, and just about the entire town is rocking to it on the dance floor.

“I called it,” Macy says as she piles another six cookies onto her plate. “But why did it have to be Noel, of all people? You knew I liked her, Bizzy,” she says accusingly as if I orchestrated her friend’s guilt just to take a jab at her.

Georgie gives a dark laugh to my big sis. “Just be thankful it wasn’t you.” She looks my way. “We all need to play nice with the evil elf in our midst. And speaking of which, shouldn’t you be taking a break from your evil elf-on-the-shelf duties?”

“Oh, stop it,” Mom says, flicking her wrist at her old friend. “Bizzy is as innocent as the driven snow, and that bump she’s got brewing is proof she’s been busy with things other than murder.” She looks my way. But just in case, I might want to give her a little something extra to open tomorrow. It doesn’t hurt to play nice with anyone.

Good grief.

Jasper makes his way over and wraps his arms around me from behind.

“It’s all done,” he says. “They’re already in Seaview and they’re processing her as we speak. I’ll deal with the paperwork at some point tomorrow.”

“Good work, Detective,” I say, giving the scruff on his cheek a quick scratch.

“I think we all know you did the heavy lifting around here,” he says. “But from here on out, leave all the heavy lifting to me. You’ve got enough to think about.”

“Deal,” I say.

Both Sherlock and Jingle bark our way.

“And the two of you sure helped,” I say, giving them both a quick scratch between the ears just as Fish walks over and I pick her up. “You helped, too.” I drop a kiss on her furry forehead as a thank you.

“You know what that means,” Georgie says, digging her hands in her pockets. “Bacon for everybody!”

Fish leaps out of my arms, and soon the four-footed among us are dancing and prancing as it rains salted meat.

The music switches to something moodier, and before I know it, I’m swaying in Detective Jasper Wilder’s strong arms.

The cake is served—sans the ceramic cake knife that was taken in as evidence of Noel’s assault on me. Mayor Woods gives a heartwarming, yet slightly self-serving, toast as the town imbibes gallons of eggnog together. And, soon enough, in what feels like a whirlwind, we’re all saying goodnight under the moonlight out in front of the inn.

Sherlock and Jingle run circles in the snow as Fish chases them around the evergreens and a good time is being had by all. Well, maybe not the life-size deer ensconced in twinkle lights that just got knocked over in the furry flurry, but everyone else.

I give my mother a hug, same with my sister before I wave them off until I see them again tomorrow.

“Well, kids,” Georgie says. “I’d better get to my cottage. Rumor has it, my ex is stopping by tonight and I made him a batch of his favorite cookies.”

“Georgie, you baked?” I marvel. “Are you trying to woo him or poison him?” I tease.

She gives a sly grin. “With any luck, a bit of both.” She shrugs. “More like I stole one of the tins that was left behind on the night of the murder. But I’m reheating them in the oven. He likes his cookies warm, almost as much as he likes me in a red dress lined with fur.” She gives a little wink. “He might be a cad, but he’s my cad. Merry Christmas, kids,” she says, taking off.

“Merry Christmas,” Jasper and I shout after her.

A brunette heads this way, bundled in a dark green coat and matching scarf.

“Ember,” I say. “Thanks again for coming out.” I cringe because I’m not sure if I should out the fact her friend was arrested.

“Thank you for ending this nightmare,” she says. “Virginia told me what happened. I still can’t believe Noel did this.” She shudders. “I guess I should get going. Good night and merry Christmas to the both of you.” She’s about to take a step when Sherlock and Jingle spring in front of her.

Jingle jumps up and dances a little jig, making us all laugh in the process.

“Come here, you,” she says, giving him a big hug. “I’m going to miss you something fierce.”

“You don’t have to miss him,” I say. “He’s looking for a good home.”

Her eyes light up bright as stars. “Oh, Bizzy. Would you mind if I gave him that good home?”

I shrug at the furry cutie. “What do you say, Jingle?”

He belts out a string of happy barks and yips, and soon Sherlock joins in and Fish even gives a sweet mewl of approval herself.

Ember thanks me profusely and vows to take the very best care of him. They take off together toward the parking lot and Sherlock and Fish run alongside them to say their goodbyes.

“Well, that’s one more happy ending tonight,” Jasper says, pulling me close once again and warming my stomach with his hand. “One day we’ll have to tell our little one all about how Jingle found his forever home on Christmas Eve.”

I nod. “The first of many stories, I’m sure.”

Soon, it’s just Jasper and me, holding one another while looking up at the velvet night sky.

Then out of nowhere, the sound of bells ringing makes us straighten.

“Is that—?” Jasper winces as he looks around.

“ Sleigh bells?” I ask as I crane my neck along with him as the volume increases, and soon an enormous red sleigh appears in the night sky, driven by what looks like an entire team of flying reindeer.

“Oh my word,” I pant.

“Are we having a dual hallucination?” he asks lower than a whisper and I don’t dare answer. I don’t dare move.

He’s here! He’s here! Sherlock Bones barks as both he and Fish race this way.

We need to get back to the cottage and fall asleep, Fish meows at the top of her lungs. Or Santa won’t leave us any gifts!

They take off for the cottage and a laugh gets caught in my throat as that enormous sleigh comes down this way before cresting its way over the inn.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think it’s headed for Georgie’s cottage,” I say with more than a little holiday wonder in my voice.

“I think you’re right,” Jasper says, holding me tighter. “And next year, Santa will have another stocking to fill.” He lands a kiss on my lips. “How about we head to the cottage and have that hot cocoa? Are you still up for it?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say. “I wouldn’t miss anything with you.”

A smile curves on his lips. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

“Merry Christmas, handsome.”

We share a warm kiss that solidifies the fact all of my Christmas wishes have already come true.

It’s Christmas in Cider Cove, the most magical time of year.

But then, it’s always magical here in Cider Cove—if not murderous.

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