Chapter 9
The warm honey glow of lamplight reflects off our polished hardwood floors as I sink into the yellow and white checkered sofa that’s become command central for our chaotic but blissful life.
I’m home now, and our cozy cottage looks like a baby boutique exploded in the most wonderful way possible. There are colorful toys scattered across the braided rug, a bouncy seat positioned strategically near the coffee table, and enough baby gear to stock a small daycare center.
Ella sits in the middle of it all like a tiny queen holding court, babbling happily at her blocks while Fish, Sherlock, and Truffle form a protective circle around her and allow her to pick and peck at them all.
One of Ella’s new favorite things to do is stacking blocks and immediately knocking them down, which she seems to think creates the most delightful chaos, and the pets are her willing accomplices in this architectural destruction.
The front door opens, and Jasper appears bearing bags from Dragon Express, looking like a knight in shining armor who’s traded his horse for takeout containers. And I wholeheartedly approve.
“Dinner is served,” he announces, setting the bags on the coffee table and leaning down to kiss me. “Kung Pao chicken, beef with broccoli, and sweet and sour shrimp. Plus, enough egg rolls to feed a small army.”
“Lucky for me, I’m hungry enough to eat for a small army.
Have I mentioned lately that I love you?
” I say, already reaching for the containers.
The spicy aroma of the Kung Pao mingles with the savory beef and the tangy sweetness of the shrimp, creating a scent that makes your mouth water instantly—and your stomach growl like a dragon.
Food! Glorious food! Sherlock barks and yips with excitement as he abandons his post as Ella’s entertainment committee. He’s only loyal as far as his appetite allows.
It’s Chinese food, you glutton, Fish points out. Not exactly dog-friendly cuisine.
I’m willing to take my chances, Sherlock replies with more than a touch of hope. Besides, we’ve both been nibbling on Chinese food for years.
Jasper settles next to me on the sofa, and we dig into the feast like two people who haven’t eaten a proper meal in days—which, considering our schedules lately, might be accurate.
“Can you believe we’re hosting a wedding?
” he asks with his chopsticks poised midair.
“Sorry about that, by the way. But Charlotte and Piers are really lucky that you were able to fit everyone at the inn with such little notice. I’ll find a way to make this up to you,” he says, dotting a kiss to my forehead.
“Jasper, these are your friends. I’m happy to do it.” I lean back to get a better look at him. “Charlotte’s family seems really loaded, though. I mean, she’s a well-known socialite in some pretty prominent circles. Where does the family wealth come from?”
“I asked Piers, and he said it was through medical supplies,” he’s quick to answer. “He said her father invented a few life-saving devices, and the rest is multimillionaire history.”
“I guess we need to come up with a life-saving device.”
“I’ll get right on it,” he teases.
“So,” I say between bites of perfectly spiced chicken, “any news on the prints from the knife?”
“Forensics is still studying it, but so far there aren’t any usable prints,” Jasper says, twirling lo mein around his chopsticks. “Either our killer wore gloves or they wiped it clean.”
“Wow. Do you think it was a professional job or a lucky amateur?” I ask, stealing a piece of his beef.
“Hard to say. The angle of the wound suggests someone roughly the same height as Tessa, so we’re not looking for a giant. But the precision...” He pauses, considering. “Either they got really lucky or they knew exactly what they were doing.”
“Any of our wedding party suspects have medical training? Not that it matters, but maybe an anatomy class played a part in it. Or pure heated hatred.” Most likely the latter.
“Funny you should ask. Kiki did pre-med before switching to law, and Conrad’s got EMT certification from his college days. Something about wanting to be a hero to impress women.”
I snort. “Of course, he does. What about the groom and his future mother-in-law?”
“Piers claims he can barely handle a paper cut, and the bride’s mother, Bea, faints at the sight of blood, according to Charlotte. However, people tend to lie and cover for loved ones, especially when there’s murder involved.”
“Speaking of lies,” I say, “you should have seen the performance Kiki and Charlotte put on today. Both claiming they barely knew Tessa; meanwhile, I watched Kiki slap her at the rehearsal dinner.”
Jasper raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t mention that yesterday.”
“Sorry. I was still processing. Plus, you were busy being all official and detective-y. But get this—Kiki is still completely in love with Piers. Her thoughts were pretty much screaming it during our pedicure session.”
“Jealous ex-girlfriend,” Jasper muses. “So what’s her story? And why is she so chummy with Charlotte?”
“She and Charlotte really seem to get along, but according to Kiki’s twisted thoughts, it’s all a ruse to get closer to Piers.
Apparently, she and the groom-to-be spent three years together in college.
She basically did his homework for him, then he dumped her after graduation to find himself.
His self-discovery led him straight to Charlotte’s social media empire. ”
“And what an empire it is,” Jasper points out. “The woman’s got millions of followers.”
“Right, but according to Kiki’s twisted perspective, it’s all about Piers finding his way to Charlotte’s success and wealth via her trust fund. The irony is delicious in the most tragic way possible. He’s basically a gold digger. What does he do for a living?”
“He flips houses.”
“Apparently, not enough of them.”
Are you two going to keep talking about murder all night? Fish interrupts. Because some of us are trying to supervise a baby here.
We both look over to see Ella attempting to put a block in Sherlock’s mouth while he sits perfectly still, the picture of canine patience.
She thinks I’m hungry, Sherlock explains. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. Plus, it’s good training for when she can get her hands on a cookie.
You’re always hungry, Truffle points out from her perch on a pile of stuffed animals.
You’re a quick learner, Fish says with a chitter of a laugh.
“I’ll make sure you each get a treat before bed,” I say before returning to my food and to Jasper. “What about you? How was your day of official detective work?”
“Interviews, paperwork, more interviews.” He shrugs. “The usual thrilling police procedural stuff. Although I did learn that Conrad’s been spreading rumors about the victim being unprofessional. Apparently, Tessa rejected his advances at the engagement party. Piers filled me in on that last part.”
“Let me guess—he didn’t take rejection well?”
“About as well as you’d expect from a guy who thinks his pearly whites make him irresistible. He’s been telling anyone who’ll listen that Tessa was trying to sabotage the wedding out of spite.”
“What a narcissist. The wedding isn’t even about him. It’s about Piers and Charlotte.” I roll my eyes. “What else did you uncover in your official capacity?”
“Well, the medical examiner confirmed the time of death was between nine and eleven P.M. The knife belonged to the inn. Someone took it from the café’s prep station.”
“So, either our killer planned this and knew the catering setup or they got lucky and grabbed the nearest weapon.”
“My money’s on planned. By choosing a public venue, there are a lot of other people to point the finger at.”
“Agree.” I shudder slightly. “Cheerful dinner conversation, Detective Wilder.”
“Sorry.” He grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Want to hear about the thrilling paperwork instead?”
“Pass.”
“How was your day of interrogating people while getting your nails done?”
“Productive, actually. I learned way too much about everyone’s ex-boyfriends’ bedroom habits, discovered that Charlotte’s building a social media empire is something most people only dream of achieving, and apparently I’m now required to provide refreshments for tomorrow night’s Storytime After Dark. ”
Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Storytime After Dark?”
“Macy and Camila’s brilliant idea to have Buffy read adult books to the wedding party,” I explain. “The books are coming from Camila’s personal collection. Perhaps you’ve already read them?” I’m only half-teasing.
Jasper nearly chokes on his sweet and sour shrimp. “I can honestly say I have never, and will never, read anything from Camila’s book collection. The woman probably has a library that would make a romance novelist blush.”
“Oh, come on,” I tease. “You’re not even a little curious about her literary tastes?”
“Bizzy, the woman once told me her ideal date involved handcuffs and a feather duster. I try not to think too deeply about her reading preferences.”
I burst out laughing. “She actually said that?”
“During our very last conversation as a couple. I think it was her way of letting me know we weren’t compatible. I wasn’t about to get dusted—even though I was about to get dusted.”
We share a quick laugh.
“I’m glad she dusted you far, far away from her. And well, she wasn’t wrong about the handcuffs part,” I say with a wicked grin. “I seem to recall a few steamy nights tangled in those silver bracelets. That made for some pretty good memories.”
“Agree,” he says. “They made for great memories, but only because I was with you.” He lands a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be sure to steer clear of the inn tomorrow night. Maybe I’ll work late, catch up on case files.”
“Coward,” I tease. “Come on. It might actually be entertaining. Watching Macy try to scandalize the wedding party could be worth the price of admission.”
“I’ll take your word for it. In fact, how about you memorize a few of your favorite passages, and I’ll help you act out a scene or two.” His lips curve into a wicked smile.
“Duley noted,” I say, stealing a kiss from his lips. “And I’ll keep working the social angle of the case. Sometimes people reveal more over cocktails than they do in formal interviews.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He gives a resigned sigh to the fact his amateur sleuth of a wife will be investigating against his wishes.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.” His expression grows serious.
“This killer was precise and cold. I get the feeling they’re not someone who kills in the heat of passion and immediately regrets it. I don’t want a repeat performance.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my secret weapon.” I gesture toward the pets. “And the fact I can pry into their gray matter. Plus, they’re all too busy being suspicious of each other to focus on me.”
“Famous last words,” he mutters.
“Speaking of your wily ex,” I say with mock seriousness, “she mentioned that you used to make her handcuff-shaped pancakes every Sunday morning. I thought that was something special you did just for me.”
Jasper inches back on the sofa, looking genuinely puzzled. “I never made her any handcuff-shaped pancakes.” He squints, clearly trying to remember. “In fact, I saw a leftover plate at Leo’s one day. That’s where I got the idea.”
“Oh,” I muse. “So it’s Emmie who should be worried,” I tease, mostly. Leave it to Camila to mix up facts in an effort to rile me up.
Plot twist! Truffle pipes up from her spot near Ella’s toy pile.
I nod because it’s a plot twist I definitely approve of.
“And you know what?” I beam at him, putting down my container. “I think I actually like you a little better now.”
“You thought I was recycling romantic gestures?” he asks with a grimace. “I feel like I should apologize for something I didn’t do. Sorry about that.”
We share a little laugh.
“Well, when your ex-girlfriend starts sharing intimate details about your supposed Sunday morning habits...”
“What other intimate details did she share?” His voice drops to a dangerous level that makes my pulse quicken.
“Oh, you know, the usual. Your secret podcast addiction, your mirror poses, and your propensity to spill all of your secrets in your sleep.”
“My what now?”
“Oh, I’ve never told you?” I say with a laugh, and he gives my ribs a quick tickle.
“Please tell me it’s not true.”
“Oh, it’s true, Detective Wilder. I can get more intel out of you in a single night than you can from an entire roster of suspects in a solid month.”
“That bad, huh?” He winces.
“Worse,” I tease. “But on the bright side, I now know where you hide your emergency chocolate stash and your backup handcuffs.”
“Very funny,” he says, landing another far steamier kiss on my lips.
“Careful,” I murmur against his mouth when we finally come up for air. “This is how we got that little cutie.”
I nod toward Ella, who’s clapping and laughing at Sherlock, who somehow managed to get a baby doll positioned on his head.
“Aww,” I coo. “Look at our new hat rack.”
I’m not a hat rack, Sherlock protests, but he’s clearly enjoying the attention. I’m a highly trained security professional who happens to be excellent at balancing things.
You’re also a premium snack detector, Fish points out with a meow. You can locate a dropped Cheerio from three rooms away.
Truffle yips and runs in a circle. That’s an admirable quality in ANY canine, and OH MY GOSH, is that a Cheerio?
I LOVE Cheerios; they’re like tiny little donuts but crunchier, and this one smells like it’s been here for a while, but that’s okay because aged snacks have CHARACTER, and also I found it all by myself, which makes me an excellent detective just like you, Bizzy!
Truffle yips excitedly as she pounces on the Cheerio.
Ella lands a stuffed bear on Fish’s head before clapping and laughing at her handiwork.
“She’s worth every sleepless night,” Jasper says, his voice low and gravelly in that way that makes my pulse skip.
“Even the nights when she decides three A.M. is the perfect time for a dance party?”
“Especially those nights. It means she’s healthy and happy and ours.”
My heart melts a little more. “And you’re mine. How did I get so lucky?”
“I ask myself the same question every day,” he murmurs, trailing kisses along my jawline. “Especially when you’re solving murders faster than I can file the paperwork.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, though my voice is getting breathier by the second, “think you’ll be able to catch this killer before they strike again?”
“Not if I’m busy being distracted by my incredibly attractive wife.” He grins against my neck. “Fair warning though—if you solve this case before I do, I’m demanding a rematch.”
“Deal.” I laugh, pulling him back down for another kiss. “But I’m keeping the handcuffs.”