“My daughters approve of you,” I mention casually, taking a sip of my color-changing drink.
His lips actually curl into something resembling genuine happiness. “My kids both highly approve of you, too.”
“Your mother doesn’t,” I point out.
“She doesn’t get a vote.” He frowns and somehow manages to look downright sexy doing it. Or maybe it’s the fact he just shot Delora down that makes me ten times more amorous for him.
I lean in closer, emboldened by mocktails and the romantic lighting. “What exactly are your kids approving of?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I immediately gasp because I can’t believe I went there.
Dexter leans in as if he’s going to tell me or kiss me, and frankly, I’m voting for both, just as Fish and Chip hop onto the bench beside me with perfect terrible timing.
We got here just in time to avert a romantic crime!Fish announces with theatrical outrage.What are these, flowers? Didn’t your mother tell you not to trust men with flowers?
Flowers are just pretty weeds with better marketing,Chip adds philosophically.Though I admit, these smell expensive.
Dexter tips his head thoughtfully toward them. “It’s almost as if they have something to say.”
“If it was just one thing,” I mutter, shooting them both a look that promises consequences involving reduced treat privileges.
Our food arrives. His Wellington looks like something from a magazine, my salmon is perfectly flaky, and everything smells like heaven decided to open a restaurant. It’s almost as if Savvy has already worked her magic here.
Dexter sneaks both cats a few bites, which immediately elevates him to demigod-tier status in their furry little minds.
“So,” I say between bites of the best salmon I’ve had in years. “How’s the case going?”
“You tell me.” His expression turns cop-serious. “I hear you interrogated a suspect tonight. My mother.” Hesighs with the weariness of someone whose family creates more paperwork than actual criminals.
“Okay, fine. I’ll spill, but only if you promise to spill, too.”
“I’m in.” He shrugs. “Just don’t tell Detective Wilder.”
I bite down on a smile at the mention of Bizzy’s husband.
“Okay, here’s what I’ve gleaned so far. I’ve spoken to Savvy Sparrow, Nadine Halbrook, and Delora Drake.” I wince slightly as I say that last name. “Savvy mentioned contract issues between the business partners; plus, she had her own grudge about a bad review years ago. Nadine painted herself as the concerned friend, but threw both Savvy and your mother under the bus with some very convenient stories. And your mother...” I trail off, my mouth clamping shut as I realize I’m about to share family secrets that aren’t mine to tell.
“And my mother what?” he presses, his detective instincts clearly engaged.
“Had her own complicated history with the victim,” I finish diplomatically. “Everyone had motives, everyone had opportunity, and everyone is pointing fingers at everyone else.”
“That’s quite impressive detective work.” His demeanor darkens slightly. “Josie, I don’t like that you’re investigating this. These people could be dangerous.”
She can handle dangerous,Fish pipes up indignantly.We’ve got her back.
Plus, we have excellent early warning systems,Chip adds.My hearing is exceptional when food is involved. She’s safe as long as the killer comes after her with a roll of sourdough bread.
“I want you to be safe,” Dexter continues, oblivious to the feline commentary. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise,” I tell him, and I mean it. “But I’m not backing down. This happened at my park, during my event. I need to see it through.”
He stares at me intently a beat too long. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
My shoulders wiggle on command. “Are you up for an encore already?”
“Are you?”
“I’m in.” I think about it for a moment. “Actually, tomorrow night is the Sweet Season Spooky Symposium grand finale event. Your mother reserved the grounds in front of the haunted house.”
