Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

I f the Sugar Plum Tree Lot is a tried-and-true tradition, then Candy Cane Lane is an outright legend that demands to be repeated year after year.

“I can’t keep up,” I shout to Sherlock as he races ahead.

“Me either,” Jasper says as he struggles to keep from breaking into an all-out run as he holds Jingle’s leash. “And you’re supposed to be the one taking it easy,” he adds. “How about we let go on three? Three .”

We do just that and both dogs trot up the lawn next to us, sniffing at a blowup of Santa and his reindeer as if they might be concealing an active bomb—or more to the point, harboring a pile of bacon.

It’s about time you ditched the doggies, Fish pipes up from the kitty carrier I have her tucked in. It’s actually a pouch designed for babies that sits across your chest. But Fish just loves it and I love how warm she keeps me, too. I hope she won’t mind sharing it in just a few months. You should have let go of the leash a long time ago, Bizzy, she mewls. In fact, let’s not pick it up again. If we lose the dogs, you won’t have to pick anything up again. And I don’t care how cute you try to make it sound. Those are not brownies Sherlock is depositing on the front lawn.

A tiny laugh trembles through me.

“You do have a point,” I whisper before kissing the cool tip of her ear. “And speaking of cute, you and the baby are going to make quite the pair snuggled up in this thing.”

Fish purrs so loudly at the thought you’d think a jet engine was about to land right next to me.

Candy Cane Lane is bustling tonight with families and couples congesting either side of the street. And it’s no wonder why the crowds congregate here night after night. Candy Cane Lane is a stretch of several blocks that are not only interconnected with a canopy of twinkle lights interwoven via the oak trees planted along the green belts, but each house comes up with a unique holiday display to delight the masses.

“Here we are,” Jasper says as we pause at the edge of the property our dogs are currently conducting a thorough sniff and search. “Highland and Green.”

I nod as I spot a crowd congesting around a makeshift booth that boasts of the world’s best hot cocoa and fresh baked cookies—both too delicious to pass up.

A breeze picks up through the icy night air, carrying the scent of something sweet and laced with chocolate.

“Oh my word,” I moan, placing a hand on my belly. “I think a batch of those fresh baked cookies just came out of the oven.”

Jasper moans twice as hard. “And I think they’re calling our name—and the baby’s.” He glances at the dogs as they try their best to catch a ride on the blowup sleigh. “If we’re fast, they may not notice we’re gone.”

“We are questioning a suspect,” I say, widening my eyes his way, waiting to hear his response to the word we . Typically, he’s averse to it when it comes to an investigation.

“We are, aren’t we ?” He sheds a smile that looks far more naughty than it ever is nice. “I like it when you invoke the royal we.” He wraps an arm around my waist. You know I can’t seem to deny you a single thing—not even a suspect.

“Or a cookie,” I add and we share a quick laugh.

We make our way to the bustling booth and wait patiently until we’re up at bat.

There she is. Ember Jewel looks adorable with a pair of antlers on her head that light up at the tips. A couple of teenage girls work alongside her and they’re all hustling as fast as they can to get the goodies out to the cookie-hungry crowd.

A sign on the front of the stand garners my attention.

“A cup of hot cocoa and three cookies for ten dollars?” I muse. “Do you think it’s worth it?”

“There’s no price too high for justice,” he teases. Geez. Are these cookies laced with gold? He looks back my way. “And there’s no price too high for keeping my wife and our little one happy.”

“You are a smart man, Jasper Wilder.”

“Smart enough to convince you to marry me.”

A laugh bubbles in my throat as I reward him with a kiss for the sweet thought.

Soon enough, we’re up next and standing face-to-face with the exact faux reindeer we came here to visit.

Ember’s mouth falls open as she looks our way. “You two look really familiar.”

“Oh?” I say. “My name is Bizzy Baker Wilder. I work at the Country Cottage Inn.”

Jasper offers an amicable smile before nodding my way. I think I’ll let you do the talking. No sense in telling the poor girl I’m the homicide detective working on her coworkers’ case—both of them.

“The Country Cottage Inn?” The whites of Ember’s eyes light up the night.

“I’m the manager there,” I tell her.

I’m not sure why I didn’t say the word owner . Most likely because it still feels so showy—and a tiny irrational part of me is afraid I’ll open myself up to lawsuits that way, too. What with all the homicides that we’ve had on the grounds, I’m shocked the state hasn’t interceded by now. Or in the least sued me silly.

“The manager?” She excuses herself from her post as she makes her way around the side of the booth and lands before us. “Do you know if they caught the killer?”

Look at that, Bizzy, Fish mewls. You’ve got a live one. This should be easy enough. It looks to me as if the baby is already bringing us some good luck!

Here’s hoping. Although I have a feeling my sister would disagree.

“I’m afraid they haven’t,” I tell her. “Do you know anything at all that might help with the case?”

Jasper gives my ribs a quick squeeze. Bizzy, you’re better than just about any detective I’ve met. I wouldn’t dare call you an amateur sleuth with all of the cases you’ve already solved, but please don’t take my accolades as a green light. The last thing I want is for you to put yourself in danger.

I offer a covert nod his way. I know he meant to add that he doesn’t want me to put the baby in danger either, but he would never want to imply that I wasn’t a good mother. Jasper is a saint that way.

Nor would I ever want to put the baby in danger either.

But it’s not my fault I have a perfectly good suspect at hand.

Hey? Maybe I should be suing the state of Maine? Wait, does that make sense? I’m just positive there’s legal recourse in here somewhere.

I press out a smile as I train my eyes on Ember.

“I don’t think I know anything that can help,” she says. “Is there anything specific the detectives are looking for?”

Fish huffs, Why couldn’t all suspects be as accommodating? I hope she’s not the killer. I’ve taken a liking to her even if she does have funny antlers. Plus, she seems nice enough to babysit someday if she’s not the killer.

“Actually”—I lift a finger—“you wouldn’t happen to know why Virginia and Chris broke things off, would you?”

I mean, I know that Chris took her back after she had an affair with Nick, but I never did learn why they broke things off officially.

“Oh yes, that’s complicated.” She laughs. “Chris had an affair.”

“ Chris had an affair?” I inch back, as does Jasper.

Plot twist, Jasper thinks to himself.

Plot twist, indeed.