There’s a refreshment table to my right with a coffee station, and I know for a fact a sweet treat is about to land right next to it. At the other end of the table, there’s a spread of various cheeses, along with a bevy of wine to pair it with. It’s not something I would have put out for an event like this—I’m more of a cookies and coffee girl myself—but the woman heading up the book club requested it.
I scan the crowd and my eyes snag on a man over by where the folding chairs are set out, who seems to be attracting more than his fair share of attention from the ladies.
Isn’t he the cat’s meow? Fish mewls with a note of sarcasm in her delivery.
“Seems to be,” I whisper.
The man in question is tall, dark hair, blond at the tips. I’d say he has a decade on me, late thirties maybe. He’s donned a fitted suit, a silver tie, and has that man-in-power feel about him, along with the fact he’s textbook handsome, which explains why throngs of women are flocking to him by the minute.
He glances my way, and I quickly revert my attention back to the refreshment table where Jordy, the handyman here at the inn, hoists a wine bottle my way as if he were toasting me and I give a wave back with one of Fish’s paws.
I asked Jordy to play the part of the bartender for the evening. Fun fact: Jordy is my ex-husband of one day. Vegas and bad whiskey were involved. Thankfully, my brother had just graduated law school, within his specialty of family law, and he took on my divorce pro bono. Nonetheless, I didn’t want the guests tonight to have to serve themselves the liquor and God forbid a minor get schnockered on my watch. I made sure Jordy would be carding the guests, too.
Sitting in the middle of the refreshment table is a large purple easel that reads Welcome to the Grim Readers Book Club! Tonight’s selection is Lock, Stock, and Double Barrel Peril! Come for the book. Stay for the murder.
A shiver runs through me as I read that last sentence, but before I can process it an all too familiar brunette steps in front of me with a conniving smile curving her lips.
Fish lets out a loud yowl at the sight of her. Wicked witch alert! Run, Bizzy, run! she teases. Or at least I think she’s teasing. Come to think of it, most likely not.
“Camila,” I say with a note of surprise and Fish recoils at the sight of her.
Camila Ryder was once my husband’s fiancée. Now she simply stalks him while parading around as his secretary down at the sheriff’s department. But lately she’s donned the hat, or the crown as it were, as the gossip queen of Maine. Camila started a YouTube channel last month called Gossip Gal where she slaps on makeup while noshing on pizza and gabbing about all the local dirt she can dish in an hour.
She’s tall, gorgeous, and her chestnut hair has a life of its own. She’s stuffed herself into a light blue dress that clings to her every curve, and in her arms she’s cradling a copy of tonight’s book club selection.
Next to her stands a redhead in jeans and a T-shirt, holding a copy of tonight’s book, too. She has big brown eyes, glossy red lips, and a face that could easily grace a magazine cover or two.
“Well, if it isn’t our resident amateur sleuth.” Camila gives a sly wink my way. “I’ve got a mystery for you, Bizzy.” She hitches her head back at the redhead. “Meet my friend, Hadley Culpepper. Does the name ring a bell?”
My mouth opens as I look to the woman, and she offers a timid yet toothy smile my way.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I ask as I search her features for answers. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite pinpoint why.
“I don’t think so,” she says. “And don’t worry. I’m just as confused. Camila has been teasing me, too.” For as much fun as Camila can be, she can be that much of a drama queen. Some things never change. “She’s just been terrible tonight.”
Fish mewls, So she’s saying Camila is simply being herself.
“That’s enough for now.” Camila takes the woman by the hand. “We’ll talk soon enough, Bizzy.” And that will be a conversation you will never forget. She waves with her book as they saunter over to the wine station.
“She’s terrible, all right,” I whisper to Fish.
When Jasper and I started dating, Camila tried her hardest to get him back, but all of her attempts failed miserably—thankfully for me. She could have landed Jasper the first time around, but she decided to cheat on him with his best friend, Leo. And, well, that ended badly for everyone involved.
Fish yowls. Would you look at Sherlock? she hisses as her tail whips toward the refreshment table. He’s whimpering like a common beggar. Can’t you control that mutt? Besides, he shouldn’t be snacking. He’s looking a little portly around the edges. It’s time to cut back on the bacon if you ask me.
Sure enough, Sherlock Bones sits like the rather committed beggar he is, looking up at all of the bodies gathered around the refreshment table with those big brown eyes of his. Sherlock was Jasper’s dog before we were married, and now he’s most certainly mine. I love both Fish and Sherlock as if they were my children.
Sherlock is a medium-sized mixed breed that sort of looks like a red and white freckled version of a German shepherd. He’s as adorable as he is smart, and he’s far too cunning when it comes
