The crowd gasps with delight as a giant balloon of a turkey sails this way, the size of a small building with its happy cartoon smile. Its orange and yellow feathered plumes look stunning juxtaposed against the dark umber sky.
“I’m sorry I had to drag you into this. But you see, I did a little research on Cider Cove—I had to. The shop was going to play a big role in Ember’s dramatic exit. I needed to know exactly what I was up against. And it was you I needed, Bizzy. The town’s most prolific amateur sleuth. I needed you to throw off the sheriff’s department. And when I told you that about Warner, it was my way of testing to see exactly how much you were digging in my direction. I had a lie ready to remedy my faux pas. You played beautifully into my hands”—she pulls a dark metal object out of her purse—“right up until you didn’t. I’m sorry, Bizzy, but you’re going to have to come with me.”
She wraps her scarf around the gun until it’s no longer visible, but I can see the barrel as sure as I can see her.
Sherlock gives a hard yank to the leash until it slips right out of my hand. He gives a few snapping barks, right before he jumps onto her side and does his best to knock her off balance.
Run! Fish yowls, but my feet won’t move.
“I can’t let her get away,” I pant in a panic.
She’s going to kill you! Pumpkin screeches at the top of her tiny little lungs.
She’s going to kill us, Spice counters.
Marigold pulls me in with Herculean strength and jabs the butt of that gun into my back like a spear.
“It will be over in less than a second,” she growls.
The music hikes up ten notches as the marching band ushers that oversized turkey right into our midst.
“There are children around,” I shout. “You won’t do this.”
“Test me,” she seethes—and I decide to do just that.
I twist around and snatch her by the arms, the gun now pointing directly into my face. My arms grip hers and I barrel us through the crowd, landing us right onto the street. Our bodies twist and turn as we bump into anything in our way and we knock over three of the teenagers holding the strings that leash that floating turkey to the ground. The bird starts to lilt and I snatch up one of the ropes and quickly wrap it around Marigold’s body. The crowd gasps as she raises her arms and the scarf drops to the ground, exposing the murderous intentions in her hand.
A flurry of screams ignites as Sherlock bites and nips at her ankles.
She’s going to shoot! Fish roars as she leaps out of the pouch and lands right on Marigold’s chest.
Then, like a couple of kitty ninjas, both Pumpkin and Spice pounce onto her as well. And as if that wasn’t enough, Cookie comes charging over from the sidewalk. In less than a second, she climbs all the way to the top of Marigold’s head and lands her backside over her face. The gun goes flying, and I duck for cover watching as it lands with a thud in the middle of the street. It spins away from us like mad just in time for Leo Granger to land his hand protectively over it.
A body pounces on me from behind, and I glance back to see Jasper’s worried face.
“Bizzy!” he shouts at top volume over the screams from the crowd. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my next breath. “She did it.” I point over to Marigold as she rolls around on the ground, trying to evict the animals from her body. “She confessed to killing Ember. She confessed to everything.”
Jasper and Leo quickly pluck her off the ground and whisk her through the crowd.
Sherlock and Fish herd the kittens my way, and I put them all back into my wonky quilt papoose, much to the delight of the crowd. Fish hops into my arms and we finally make our way back to the sidewalk.
Macy runs my way and shakes me.
“I saw the whole thing!” she shouts. “Are you nuts? That woman had a gun.”
“You’re free.” I pull my sister in and give her a firm embrace. “It’s all over.”
The crowd gives a raucous cheer, and Macy and I turn to see a giant sleigh making its way down the street. Santa sits at the helm while tossing candy canes left and right to anyone willing to catch them.
Macy slings her arm over my shoulders. “That man in the red suit looks luscious. How about I wrap him up with a bow and gift him to you for Christmas? After all you’ve done for me, you deserve it.”
“Macy”—I give her the side-eye for even suggesting it—“I’m a happily married woman.”
She makes a face. “So I guess you’re sticking with the traitor, huh?”
“He’s not a traitor. He was doing his job.”
“You did his job for him. But don’t tell him I said that. Something tells me, I’d better stay on his good side.”
The crowd goes wild, and we look up just in time to see Santa winking at us before it rains candy canes in our direction.
This holiday isn’t even over, and it’s already passing the baton to the next.
Everything is happening so quickly. But one thing is for sure—everything will taste a little bit better today knowing that justice was served up cold to the woman who killed Ember Sweet.
Rest in peace, Ember.
I glance to her shop just as a pale handprint appears on the storefront window like a plume of fog before slowly evaporating.
Maybe, just maybe, Ember Sweet had the last word after all.
Chapter 17
Thanksgiving
