“Archie.” She shrugs.
“Archie?” I turn my head to the side as I examine her.
She was clearly thinking about Zeke just before she implicated the magician at hand. It sounds to me like she’s bent on protecting Zeke no matter who she has to toss under the homicidal bus.
“Yup.” She nods. “He and Julian used to do their acts together, but they had a rift about a year ago. Julian started working on his own, and Archie went part-time. Anyway, rumor had it, they fought over something. I heard Julian say he didn’t trust the guy. But to hear Archie tell it, he swears on his life he taught Julian all he knows and never got a thank you for it.”
A fight? Over a few glorified party tricks?
That bra and floating ring of fire run through my mind. Okay, so it had a mystical appeal to it. But still, there was nothing new under the magic sun. I’ve seen all of those tricks before in other forms.
She nods as she loads her arms with a pile of dirty dishes.
“Believe me when I say Archie and Julian had a beef. Julian once said he’d walk around the block for a lot of people, but he wouldn’t even cross the street for Archie. Something was definitely up.” She sheds a smile my way.
You’re welcome, Zeke. Don’t ever say I’ve never done anything for you.
“It was nice meeting you, Izzy. Hope you enjoyed the show.”
“It’s Bizzy,” I say as she takes off, but she’s already lost in the crowd.
Bernie is covering for Zeke Reed, brother of the groom, but why?
And what exactly does Zeke have to hide?
Chapter 8
A crisp fall breeze fills the foyer of the Country Cottage Inn as I sit behind the counter and study my laptop. Both of my coworkers, Grady Pennington, a recent college grad who slays the younger girls with his dark hair and Irish charm, and Nessa Crosby, a brunette cutie who also recently graduated from college, are keeping busy with the influx of new guests and the equal outflow of checkouts.
The expansive guest counter has been fully decorated for autumn with strings of colorful leaves and pumpkins dotting the surface, while the entry doors have been festooned with giant wreaths made of dried maple leaves in a rainbow of citrine colors. Crimson and yellow mums have been planted in every pot that sits around the inn, and the number of decorative pumpkins we have only seems to grow by the day.
Nessa turns my way as soon as the crowd at the counter dies down and I look up to see her holding Fish.
“I’ll go make sure the hot cider pitchers are full in the grand room and the dining hall. Anything else you want me to do while I’m headed to the kitchen?”
I give Fish a quick scratch on the nose.
“Why don’t you see if Emmie has any more of those blondie bars ready? We could use another tray up front.”
“That’s because you’ve been eating them all.”
“Hey—Grady’s been helping me,” I tease.
Grady grunts in agreement while shoving one into his mouth.
“Make that two trays,” I say as she sets down Fish and takes off.
Grady comes over and peers at my laptop. “Missing women?” He shakes his head. “I’d be careful what you look up on the internet, Bizzy. You’ve landed yourself in one murder investigation after another this past year. One day the sheriff’s department is going to confiscate your laptop and you’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Why do you think I’m marrying the lead homicide detective?” I give a sly wink, and he gives a nervous laugh while getting back to tending to the guests.
I’ve spent the better half of the morning researching Anita Dolman, the missing woman from Edison. And as fate would have it, I found not one other missing woman from Edison but two. Embry Knight, the woman in question with the child, and another woman by the name of Shelly Grant. Both Embry and Shelly frequented the same bars and clubs in Edison, and one of them happens to be the Magic Castle.
Fish yowls as she hops up onto the counter next to me. I sense a disturbance in the force.
“I sense the fact you’ve watched one of Sherlock’s and Jasper’s favorite movies.”
Sherlock barks from somewhere near the front. A member of the Dark Side has entered the building.
I sit up a notch to see Mackenzie Woods without her better half, my brother, and I frown at the prospect of what comes next.
“Hello, Bizzy.” She adjusts the belt on her orange peacoat, and I can’t help but admire how cute it looks paired with her tall leather riding boots and dark jeans. It’s rare to see Mack in anything other than those power business suits she wears, but I guess even she is susceptible to succumbing to cute fall wardrobe alterations like the rest of us. “You can wipe that sour look off your face. I’m not here to see you. I’m here to see Georgie. Where is the queen of broken glass?”
“She specializes in mosaics. Broken glass is simply the medium,” I say. “And while I have you here, I thought I’d run something by you. How about you move the official Cider Cove Beautification unveiling for the Sunday following my wedding? That way Georgie won’t miss a moment of her big day and the Cottage Café won’t be stretched to maximum capacity trying to cater your event and mine.”
Her pouty lips bunch up. “Contrary to what you believe, I did not choose the date of the unveiling to try to ruin your big day. I’m supposed to be at your wedding, too, you know, as your brother’s date.” She leans in with her eyes narrowed. “And just between you and me, I’d much rather have him with me at the unveiling than at your little beach shindig. But that’s neither here nor there. The committee has already rented the tents, the bounce houses, ordered food, and
