Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

“ A nd then she got another one,” Georgie says after recapping last night’s horror to the poor women gathered at the Cider Cove Bake Shop as we nosh on sweet treats and decorate gingerbread houses.

It’s the very next afternoon, the day of Macy’s book club and their white elephant gift exchange. I thought I’d bring Georgie along for the ride. Boy, is that proving to be a big mistake.

I should have brought my furry friends, but then that would have been an entirely different error in judgment. It just so happens that Sherlock and Fish can’t control themselves in a place like this—one dedicated to all things delicious. And with Jingle here, too, I’m afraid the three of them would have cleared out all of the baked goods before I got a chance to stop them—or more importantly, clear the place out of baked goods myself.

It’s happened once before with just Fish and Sherlock. Personally, I’m half-shocked they let me back into the place.

The only reason they behaved themselves here yesterday was because there was a cinnamon roll involved.

And even though the four-footed cuties didn’t make the cut, I did promise to bring something back for them. Not to mention I had a craving the size of the entire North Pole for peppermint bark.

I’ve heard that pregnancy can make you crave the strangest things, but today peppermint everything has been calling my name. At least it’s in keeping with the season.

“Geez, Bizzy. That’s your second Santa this week,” Macy spits out the words with marked frustration—although layered just beneath it was a hint of admiration. My sister is twisted that way. I knew it. My little sister makes bad luck charms look like a promising endeavor. “Really, Bizzy?” she snits my way. “ Santa ? You keep this up and they’ll put you behind bars for the rest of the holiday season as a measure of public safety. And don’t think that baby bump will save you. Women give birth behind bars all the time—without the aid of modern medicine.”

“Another reason why the prison system is so barbaric,” I say.

Although I’m pretty sure what Macy just spewed is far from factual. I hope.

“I bet Jasper will cuff you himself,” Georgie says, rubbing her hands together as if she relished the thought.

Macy smirks. I wouldn’t mind if that man slapped a couple of silver bracelets on me. Why does Bizzy get the handsome husband who wields dangerous weaponry for a living? All I get is the guy in the liquor department challenging me to a game of beer pong. But then, I suppose Bizzy’s luck has just run out. Heaven knows that baby is going to drain every bit of a good time from Bizzy’s life. Who has time for diapers and sleepless nights when there’s fun to be had? It’s clear I’m the one winning at life here.

I shoot her a look.

I can’t fault her for any of that. Jasper really is that handsome. I’m just lucky I spotted him first. And while Macy’s inner dialogue about my impending motherhood is far from my take on it, admittedly it’s not different by much.

The bakery has a homey feel, with its butter-yellow walls and a flocked Christmas tree set near the window. Every last ornament festooning that snow-laden evergreen is a plastic replica of a miniature baked good, and each one of them looks equally good to eat. But lucky for me, they serve the real deal here, so I can take plastic off the menu.

Christmas carols play softly over the speakers, the scent of freshly baked brownies is thick in the air, and every single person in the shop is wearing a Santa hat, including yours truly.

I know, I know .

It feels completely sacrilegious after I found two of the jolly old elves without a pulse. But I couldn’t help it. One of the girls from the book club insisted we all get into the holiday spirit. And to be truthful, my baby could use a little holiday cheer—and a mother who isn’t too traumatized to wear a Santa hat.

I spent most of the morning helping guests check in and out of the inn. The holidays are our busiest season, so I didn’t have time to pick up a white elephant gift, but Georgie said she had me covered. With what, I don’t know.

Honestly? I was afraid to ask.

Noel grimaces my way. “So you were the one who found him?” Her red hair gleams an ethereal shade of crimson under the bright lights above. She’s bundled in a red sweater and jeans, and has a black and white checkered scarf draped around her neck, looking about as cheerful for the holidays as can be.

I cringe her way as I pause from frosting the roof of my gingerbread house. In fact, every last member of the book club is doing this exact same thing, decorating their very own holiday mini-mansion to the holiday hilt. I haven’t had this much fun at a bakery since I was a kid. Although the fun seemed to stop as soon as Chris Winter was brought up.

“Sort of,” I say to Noel. “Technically, Jasper found him. I just so happened to be with the good detective.”

I make a face at Macy for making me out to be something worse than a bad luck charm—even if she did say those things to herself.

I don’t know how Macy hasn’t figured out that I can read minds just yet. Heaven knows I’ve called her out on her dicey thoughts more than once.

My mother likes to say that I’m intuitive. And personally, I’m shocked my mother isn’t onto me either. But then again, Macy seems a little too busy focusing on how I might be inconveniencing my life—and most likely hers—to notice how intuitive I can be when it comes to her thoughts.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Noel says. “I heard he was stabbed,” she whispers those last few words. “I guess the knife belonged to the tree lot, but clearly someone went after him. What does Jasper think is going on? Do we have a serial killer on our hands?”

A hush falls over the bakery as every Santa hat in the vicinity tips my way.