Cat Scratch Cleaver

Georgie huffs and puffs as she tries to keep up. “How about I get one of those shiny new cleavers for you, Bizzy? You can hack Camila to pieces for pawing all over your man. We can call it a performance piece. They’re all the rage among the art population.”
“They’re all the rage among the prison population, too,” I point out.
Fish moans as she buries her face in Georgie’s armpit.
Try not to go to prison, Bizzy. She mewls. Georgie doesn’t believe in litter boxes or deodorant.
I know for a fact both happen to be true.
“Jasper,” I say as I come upon them.
Camila glares my way. “And she’s not even warning anyone.”
A dull huff bumps from me. “I take it you’re up to speed,” I say as Jasper’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“I am. And I think we can do an inspection without disrupting the guests.”
“Good.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “Jordy is looking to see if he can find any more of those metal menaces.” I scowl at the menace in a blonde wig before me. “I take it Jordy told you.”
She gives a slight nod. “That, and the fact I heard that poor woman scream. You’ll be lucky if the inn isn’t sued for emotional distress.” She adjusts the little black dress she’s poured herself into with its plunging neckline. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m almost due on set.” She starts to take off just as Georgie pulls her back by the wrist.
“Hey, Toots,” Georgie snarls. “Not so fast. What did you do to land this coveted part? I’m looking to score an Oscar-worthy role myself.”
I snort without meaning to. “Georgie, I highly doubt Camila is going to put on an Oscar-worthy performance.”
Camila’s cheek curls on one side. Oh, Dizzy Bizzy, I deserve an Oscar every time I’m nice to you.
She plucks her wrist free from Georgie’s stronghold. “If you really want to catch the director’s attention, I’d suggest you do something to surprise him. I don’t know, maybe show him your best side.” She makes a face at Georgie while inspecting her features.
Jasper nods my way. “Camila mentioned the library. A cleaver in a book?”
I nod. “The cleaver is still in there. Emmie is making sure the guests don’t wander inside,” I say as he brushes a kiss to my cheek before taking off.
“Must be nice,” Camila muses. “Knowing that you’ve bewitched Jasper with your constant need to have a detective by your side. You must make him feel very important. Good strategy. I’ll have to remember that for when I land him back by my side.”
Fish yowls as she swipes a paw over at her. Let me at her. Just one scratch, and I promise she’ll never bother you again.
Sherlock trots over and wraps himself around me while barking up at the blonde bimbo among us, and Camila wastes no time in snarling right back at him.
“Oh hush, you,” Camila hisses just as Peter strides over.
“Are you ready for your close-up?” He places his hand on her back, and I can’t help but note he’s gliding it down over her bottom.
I can pretty much guess how she secured the role.
“Hey, Pete!” Georgie dances her way in front of him. “Got any parts for a gray-haired cutie like me? I’m ready to move out from the obscurity of background talent and into the limelight of superstardom.”
He raises a half-smile as if he were amused.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Let’s see what ya got.”
Before any of us can process what’s happening, Georgie whips off that sky blue kaftan and spins it over her head as if she was waving a flag, exposing us to two white sacks that look like a couple of pilgrim hats in lieu of a brassiere and a pair of off-white pants that I’m guessing are her undergarment of choice. Come to find out, Georgie’s skin underneath her clothes is pale as the underbelly of a fish and looks virtually wrinkle free.
“Whoa.” Peter winces. “Okay, fine. Head over to hair and makeup and I’ll give you a line. But just one.”
He takes off and Georgie lets out a whoop and dances a little jig that makes her jiggle and wiggle in all sorts of questionable places.
“Mama!” Georgie’s daughter calls out as she comes running into the foyer, and shockingly she just so happens to be shirtless, too. I’m sensing a familial theme here. “Guess who just got Bates Barlow to come to the club tonight?” Juni belts out a whoop that rivals her mother’s.
Georgie slaps her hands together. “That’s my girl. Did you have to resort to begging?”
“Nope.” Juni expands her chest rather proudly. “He did.”
Georgie howls out a laugh. “Don’t let anyone say us Conner women can’t get things done.”
Camila scoffs over at them. “You’re a couple of loons.”
Georgie leans her way. “Watch it, blondie. I know where you live, and I know a good book I can dig a cleaver out of.” She links arms with Juni. “Come on, kid. We don’t need to prove our sanity to anyone. Let’s go celebrate by swimming in the fountain.”
Swimming in the fountain! Sherlock gives a happy bark as he takes off after them. It’s time to invade the waters!
Fish circles my ankles, and I pick her up.
Don’t worry, Bizzy. She nuzzles her head against my neck. I won’t ever invade your fountain.
I nod as I kiss her on the forehead.
But someone has very much invaded my inn with the intention of frightening my guests.
I say enough is enough.
I’m going to squeeze these suspects until one of them sings.
Or I might just lose my mind and sling a cleaver in Camila’s direction.
Maybe I’ll do both.

Chapter 11
The Silver Shufflers Nightclub sits on the border of Cider Cove and Edison, which gives it just enough of a wild vibe—and equal parts mild—to convince me this place might not be so bad. The club itself is located in a renovated senior center and is conveniently located next door to the fire department should anyone be in need