A Frightening Fangs-giving

under her fingernails and foreign blonde hair on her person.” He sighs as he says it. “I’m on my way to Lather and Light. I need to ask your sister to come down to the station with me so we can run a few tests.”
Emmie, Jordy, and I all groan in unison.
“No way,” Jordy say. “Macy isn’t the killer.”
“Maybe not.” I hold that basket of cuties close. “But she’s sure starting to look guiltier by the second. She’s essentially giving the killer a pass. The more attention is given to Macy, the less attention is given to whoever really did it.”
Jasper’s phone goes off. “I have to take this.” He rises from his seat as he looks my way. “You want to come down to Main Street with me? I might need you to defuse the bomb.”
“Sounds good. I’ll text Huxley. No doubt he’ll want to be there.”
“Perfect. Tell him to meet us there in a half an hour. I think those pumpkin waffles are calling my name.” He takes off for the patio to tend to his phone call.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Jordy says as he lands his ball cap back on his head and rises. “I’ve got to check the electrical panels. The way those breakers were going off yesterday you’d think we really do have a ghost around here.”
“We don’t have a ghost,” I whisper. “And I wouldn’t say that out loud. Grady is convinced we have one rearranging our office supplies at the front desk.” The words that Willow said last night about Ember haunting Macy come back to mind, and I shake the thought out of my head.
Jordy takes off, and I shudder just thinking about having something nefarious and otherworldly going on right here in Cider Cove.
“Don’t worry, Bizzy.” Emmie takes another kitten from me. “Macy will be proven innocent. Feisty, but innocent.”
I nod. “And that feisty behavior is exactly why we’re on the long road to clearing her name.”
The kittens in her hands mewl.
“What are they saying, Bizzy?” Emmie squeals with excitement. Last month after Emmie found out that both Leo and I can read the human and the animal mind, she’s been having lively conversations with both her dog, Cinnamon, and Leo’s golden, Gatsby. Not that she wasn’t before.
The one in her left arm looks up at her and yowls, You don’t smell like a killer. When will we find a home?
The one in her other arm mewls, A home without a killer, please.
The furry cutie in my basket lets out a little yip. I hope they serve Fancy Beast like Bizzy.
I quickly translate, and both Emmie and I have a laugh over it.
“I’m going to find you all good homes,” I tell them. “And I will make sure you are well supplied with Fancy Beast cat food. It’s Fish’s favorite, too.”
Emmie moans. “I’d keep you all myself if I knew my dog wouldn’t use you as chew toys.”
“It wouldn’t be a far cry from what Sherlock is doing to them at my place.” I’m about to fill Emmie in on the adorable way the kittens nestle up against Sherlock’s belly at night when I spot Marigold Sweet at the counter. I quickly excuse myself and head on over.
“Marigold?” I say as I come upon the polished looking brunette. Her hair is glossy and pin straight as it hangs below her neck, and she’s wrapped in a peach trench coat as if she just came from a brisk walk in the autumn air. Her eyes glow like emeralds, and I wish mine would look half as entrancing. She really is a beautiful woman. “How are you liking the inn?” She checked in yesterday morning, but this is the first I’m seeing her.
“Oh, it’s so great here.” She gives each of the kittens in my arms a quick scratch on the forehead. “Just try to get rid of me. My husband isn’t coming back for another two weeks. He says Ember would have wanted him to finish out his trip. He’s right, but I could sure use him around.” Not really. At least not yet. I need these feelings to die out. I’d hate for Warner to see me this way. I’m never jumpy, and if I’ve been anything since Ember bit the big one, it’s been jumpy.
I nod because that’s completely understandable. Ember’s death has me jumpy, and I wasn’t nearly as close.
She glances to her phone. “I’ll be taking care of the details, making arrangements, and whatnot. I’m afraid it will be nothing more than meetings with the morgue, with my husband’s attorneys. Her father doesn’t want a big to-do for her. We just want to get through this.” She ticks her head over at the kittens. “These cats are so adorable.” She coos, and they both mewl up at us.
Is she taking us home, Bizzy? one calls out.
Is she the killer? another cries.
Even though the kittens were in the alley at the time the killing occurred, they were emphatic that they could only see Ember.
“I spoke with Willow yesterday,” I tell Marigold. “She says she’s not reopening the shop. I guess they had a break-in.”
“A break-in?”
I nod. “She said the store was trashed, products were everywhere. I think she’s afraid whoever did it might come back.”
“I bet it was Ember.” Her fingers float to her lips. “She used to say the world couldn’t get rid of her. If she had her way, she’d come back to haunt us all. And she has, Bizzy.” Her chest pants wildly. “I woke up this morning to the sound of glass breaking. I was alone in my room and a vase that was sitting on the dresser knocked over. We didn’t have an earthquake. And I was sound asleep up until that point. She’s haunting me. I’m positive of it. And she’s doing it to Willow, too. She hated all of us.”
“Why did she hate you?”
Marigold’s chest pumps with a dry laugh. I could write a book, the list is so long. But I’m guessing