A Frightening Fangs-giving

my horror, that boot is still very much attached to a body.
“Oh God.” I kneel down and check the woman’s pulse.
My sister won’t have to worry about Ember Sweet ripping off her style or her shop anymore.
Ember Sweet is dead.

Chapter 3
Two things happen simultaneously. One, I scream my head off. I don’t care how many dead bodies I stumble upon, I will never get used to it. And two, I text Jasper.
I glance back to poor Ember lying there, and I force my head to turn away. And when I do, I spot a half-finished cigarette lying near the back door to Ember’s shop. It’s one of those ultra-skinny cigarettes called Sassy Slims. I remember them because they used to market them heavily to women. All of the ads had polished looking businesswomen walking briskly with a Sassy Slims dangling from their fingertips.
My mother used to smoke for a while when I was growing up, and I recognize that pink ring around the filter. In fact, I can still smell the faint scent of menthol lingering in the air, and it brings back memories of my mother when she’d walk through the door after enjoying one of those death sticks, as Hux used to call them. We were all thrilled when she quit.
I study the cigarette for a moment longer. It’s only half-finished, and it makes me wonder if it was finished in haste.
No sooner do I hit send on that text than both Jasper and Leo materialize before me, along with a rather healthy size crowd.
Bodies ooze out of the rear of Suds and Illuminations, the same door I’m guessing Ember Sweet stepped out of just before she landed on the ground, and every single person gasps in response to seeing the poor thing lying here helpless.
Georgie howls, “Oh my goodness, Bizzy!” She waves me over to the box full of kittens that I had momentarily forgotten about.
They’re mine! Sherlock barks. I found them! I get to keep them! A box of kittens! And they’re all mine, all mine!
Fish growls, That’s nonsense, and you know it, fleabag. You can’t just say they’re yours. Haven’t you learned anything from Jasper and Bizzy? If you want to keep them, you have to lick them.
My lips invert. Jasper and I have said more than once I licked you, you’re mine. Gross, I know, but we think it’s cute.
Fish yowls as she cranes her neck to get a better look at them, My, oh my, aren’t they adorable? My goodness, they look just like me! I bet we’re related somehow. Oh, Bizzy, we have to keep them. Tell Georgie to keep her mitts to herself.
“Let’s see,” I say, heading over and quickly scooping up all three squirming cuties.
Help!
Get me down!
Why are these people screaming?
“Oh, they’re terrified,” I say as I look to Georgie. “I don’t know who these belong to, but they were the first things I saw when I came back here. Sherlock sniffed them out. Would you watch them for me? I’ll take them off your hands as soon as we get back to the inn.”
“Are you kidding?” Georgie takes them from me, and I help her land them back in the tiny brown box they were sitting in to begin with. “Just try to pry these from my cold dead hands. Finders keepers, Bizzy! And I’ve got me some kittens!” Georgie shouts with the glee of a madwoman as she takes off toward Main Street, and I cringe because I’m pretty sure shouting for glee at a murder scene is highly frowned upon.
The brunette I met earlier, Ember’s stepmother, Marigold, intercepts Georgie and picks up one of the kittens, nuzzling it against her cheek for a moment before saying something to Georgie and setting it back in the box. I can tell she’s naturally nurturing. Even in this dark moment she wants to make sure those kittens are safe.
Macy pops up next to me, her eyes agog as she stares out at Ember.
“What the heck happened? Did she pass out?” She sucks in a quick breath as she looks my way. “You offed her for me, didn’t you?”
“What?” I smack my sister on the arm. “Do not say that out loud ever again. There are people here, all of which have ears—the better to hear the murderous rumors you’re starting.”
“My goodness,” Macy pants as her horror quickly morphs into something I’m not proud to say looks a lot like delight. “Ember Sweet is dead?” Wow. I either have a very good sister who cares far too much about that crappy shop I run or I’m able to kill people with my mind. To think, I was wishing a tree would fall on the girl less than an hour ago. “A tree didn’t fall on her, did it?”
I avert my eyes. “I have no idea what happened to her.”
Leo barks for the crowd to move back just as a swarm of sheriff’s deputies arrive on the scene.
Jasper comes over and drapes his arm around me. “What happened, Bizzy?”
“Sherlock—he was leading me this way and he found a box of kittens. That’s when I saw Ember. I checked her pulse. I thought maybe she passed out, but she was gone. And then I texted you.”
He blows out a breath. “Her mouth has remnants of powdered sugar, and she has a donut in her hand—one of Emmie’s.”
Macy gasps. “Emmie’s the killer?”
“Would you hush?” I hold my finger to my lips as I give a quick look around. “Emmie did not kill that poor woman.” A horrible thought hits me. “Oh no, Jasper, you don’t think she had an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients, do you?”
“At this point, everything is a possibility. The coroner will determine the cause of death, and I’ll make sure you’re one of the first to know since that donut puts the café on the hook.”
“Thank you.” I shudder as I look back over at the scene. The tall, dark-haired woman, Marigold, looks visibly shaken. Her