After checking in a steady stream of guests into the inn, I leave the registration counter in my co-workers’ capable hands and take Fish, Sherlock, and Sprinkles to the ballroom with me.
No sooner do I walk into the palatial space than I see the configuration of the room transformed once again. The dolls and spider displays have taken up the right side of the room, but it’s the left side of the room that’s getting all the action—and by action, I mean the masses have turned out to witness this new cozy display.
Quilts of every size and color are laid out over dozens and dozens of tables. Each one looks more intricate than the next, and almost all of them have adhered to a strict color palette of purple, green, black, white, orange, yellow, and brown. There are magical looking quilts with nightscapes, lots of black cats and full moons, witches, ghosts, skeletons, and enough autumn leaves to furnish all of Maine.
Fish purrs in my arms. Oh, I like this, Bizzy. Can we pick up a few of these for the cottage? I especially like the one with all of the black cats sitting in tiny squares. I’ve been thinking we need more of a feline presence in the cottage now that the canines have moved in.
No matter how many times I seem to explain to her that Jasper isn’t a canine, she keeps referencing him as so.
“That’s a good idea,” I whisper. I’d much rather bring home a blanket with twelve cats on it than twelve cats. “But I don’t think they’re for sale.”
Sherlock and Sprinkles take off as they make the rounds, and the entire room is instantly smitten with them.
“Bizzy!” my mother calls out from the front of the room, and I see that she’s got my spicy sister by her side. I can’t wait to see what Macy found out about Billy last night, if anything.
“Hey, ladies.” I pop up next to them, and they both give Fish a quick scratch. “Isn’t this amazing?”
Mom lets out a groan. “So much better than those haunted dolls and spiders. I’m still having eight-legged nightmares. You know, just last night I had a nightmare that one of the doll’s heads fell off and was pitched into a fire. Can you imagine that?”
I give a hard blink.
Should I be worried that Annabeth’s reality has crawled into my mother’s dreamscape?
Fish shudders. I don’t like this, Bizzy. Those dolls don’t belong here. We’ll have to take a blowtorch to the place just to cleanse it once they leave.
She’s not kidding.
Mom looks cozy for fall in her bright orange sweater with the stiff white collar from her blouse popping up from underneath. The eighties may be long gone, but Mom holds firm to the preppy spirit it sponsored. And Macy looks dressed for success in her tight, orange and pink knit dress, paired with adorable slouchy boots in the perfect shade of merlot. I’ve always envied my sister’s fashion sense, especially since raiding her closet is a heck of a lot harder now that we no longer live together.
“Sorry about the nightmares,” I wince.
Macy makes a face at my mother. “I told you not to look them in the eyes.”
“Never mind that.” Mom waves her off. “I’m really digging these quilts. It’s putting me in a mood to pull out my sewing machine and whip up a few myself.”
Macy shakes her head. “Well, it’s inspiring me to whip out my credit card and purchase a few myself. Why aren’t any of these for sale, Bizzy? They all say on loan. How about loaning one to your sister? They’d look great in my shop, and on my bed.”
Georgie pops up before I can answer, and she’s wielding Annabeth in that pristine muslin and lace dress of hers. Her head is miraculously adhered right back where it belongs, and I take a moment to marvel at the fact her hair and face don’t look singed in the least.
“Hey? How did you do that?” I ask as Fish takes a swipe at the haunted porcelain among us.
George pulls Annabeth out of Fish’s swiping range while rocking the doll like a baby.
“I used some of the epoxy I have for my mosaics and was able to get her head right back onto her body. And look—not a speck of soot on her. It’s as if she never rolled into a firepit last night.”
Mom gasps. “My dream!”
“Excuse me for a second,” I say as I shuttle Macy off to the side. “Any luck with the man in the trench coat last night?”
Her expression sours. “Nope. He and that chick he was with looked as if they were arguing, and as soon as he pitched those flowers onto ground bloody zero, he stalked off good and ticked. If I’ve learned anything about men, it’s that there are only so many cliffs you can walk them back from, and anger isn’t one of them. But don’t worry. I found a handsome monster to occupy my time with. Where are you headed next with your investigation? If it’s a hot spot for men who like to play dress-up with fangs or fur, count me in.”
“What happened to the monster?”
“He turned into an accountant at midnight.”
Annabeth peers from over my shoulder and just about gives me a heart attack.
“Count me in, too,” Georgie chimes while rattling the doll.
My phone bleats, and I pull it out. “It’s a text from Camila. It looks like we’re headed to a club called the Snake Pit tonight to speak to the very next suspect on our list.”
A dark laugh strums from my sister. “It looks as if a
