A Frightening Fangs-giving

on a hot date with him.”
“That makes total sense.” He blows out a breath. “Any vital information you’d like to share with me?”
“Oh, yes.” My teeth graze over my lip. “But you’ll have to get creative if you want to drag it out of me.”
Sherlock barks. Don’t say that, Bizzy. He’s got a loaded weapon on him. He knows how to make the bad guys talk. You’re not one of the bad guys, Bizzy.
Fish yowls down at him, Oh hush. Can’t you see they’ve got that gleam in their eyes? Jasper is like catnip to her. And Bizzy is essentially a piece of bacon that Jasper can’t resist.
Sherlock spins in a circle. Bizzy is bacon? He lets out a few sharp barks. It’s no wonder he can’t get enough of her.
Fish jumps out of my arms. Come on, fuzzball. Let’s go make sure the kittens haven’t escaped. I’m going to demand Bizzy keep them. They’re almost as cute as I am.
A laugh thumps through me as they take off.
“It’s just you and me, Detective Wilder.”
“Don’t make me cuff you in front of all of these people. Walk at a steady clip and I’ll follow close behind. One wrong move, and I’ll be forced to tackle you to the ground.”
“Oh, I’ll make that wrong move, all right—as soon as we step into that cottage.”
I manage to snag an entire tray of apple cider mini donuts, and Jasper and I end up in our cottage in no time. I set the donuts down and give Jasper’s tie a quick tug.
“Clothes off, Detective. You’re on my turf now.”
A wicked grin twitches on his lips. “Same goes for you. Drop the stitches. This interrogation is about to go under covers.”
A dark gurgle of a laugh strums from me. “I don’t think we’re going to make it to the covers.”
His brows hitch up a notch. “Are you talking dirty to me?”
“You should try it sometimes. You never know where it may lead.”
“Okay.” He pulls me in close. “Who’s your next suspect?”
A smile cinches in my cheek. “You really do know how to get me going, don’t you? Flint Butler. While you lap up my sloppy seconds with Hunter, I’ll be biting into fresh investigative meat.”
A low growl comes from him. “You’re a married woman, Bizzy Baker Wilder. The only person you should be taking a bite out of is standing right here.”
“You are still wearing far too many clothes. Lose them and I’ll sink my teeth in wherever I see fit.”
A dark smile twitches on his lips. “Flint Butler will be front and center at his very first city council meeting tomorrow night at town hall. I’ll be there.”
“On city business?” I tip my head with curiosity.
“As your date. Don’t dig in any deeper without me, Bizzy. The last thing I want is you getting in over your head with a killer.”
“Okay.” I give a solemn nod.
Jasper and I get right down to business of our own. We lose the stitches and get right to sinking our teeth in all the right places.
And tomorrow night, maybe, just maybe, we’ll take a bite out of crime, together.

Chapter 10
The city council meetings are conducted in council chambers in the aptly named Cider Cove Building just a few blocks from Main Street.
The room is congested with constituents seated in stiff wooden chairs, as the council members sit up front behind long wooden tables on a riser that puts them about four feet higher than the rest of us. An American flag, along with the state flag of Maine, sits behind them. And there’s a banner that stretches across the top of the room that reads Congratulations, Cider Cove, on one hundred wonderful years!
Jasper and I came out together tonight and he helped me set out platters of the Country Cottage Café’s apple cider mini donuts on the refreshment table. The sweet sugared scent of those fresh baked wonders, coupled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, lights up my senses. And to be truthful, it seems like the only bright spot in this otherwise dull meeting. So far we’ve discussed the progress on a traffic light, put out a call for volunteers to make up sandbags for the upcoming storm, and discussed the Founders’ Day parade route that’s to take place on Thanksgiving.
Altogether there are seven council members, four women and three men—one of which is Flint Butler. I’ll admit, he’s handsome, with his shock of dark hair and easy smile. He’s donned a suit that gives the illusion he has the shoulders of a running back, and he’s let a few self-deprecating comments fly, much to the delight of the audience. I can’t help but note the way the women in the room seem to be ogling him. I guess I can’t blame them. He is newly single, albeit by a little more than a week. But then, he doesn’t look too broken up about it either.
Jasper gives my hand a squeeze. I wonder what dirt Ember Sweet had on the guy to make him stick around like he did?
I trace my eyes his way with a look that says that’s exactly what we’re going to find out, or at least I am. I plan on hogging all of the councilman’s free time once this little meet-up is over.
With just five minutes left to spare, a woman who’s been moderating the microphone for the townspeople asks if there are any other comments or questions for the board members.
“Yes! I’ve got a comment,” a distinctly female voice shouts from the back. “You’ve got blood on your hands!”
The entire room breaks out into gasps as we turn to see two people holding up a sign that reads those same cryptic words that look as if they were written in blood over butcher paper. They lower the sign a bit, and I see two shockingly familiar faces.
“Georgie and Juni?” I say just as a couple of security guards escort them out of the building.
The meeting is adjourned, and