“Imp was actually the number two choice, right behind mermaid/merman, so we will be adding both to the fantasy collection.”
Raleigh giggled, and when I glanced in the rearview mirror, I saw that he was quite pleased with himself. “I knew people would like it.”
“Oh, they did; several of them messaged me to say that it would be the perfect outfit for their mischievous littles, so I’ve already made a note to up the number we produce in the initial release.”
“I can’t wait to model them.”
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” I reminded him. “I still have to sketch everything out.”
“What are the other six outfits going to be?” Murry asked.
“Well, there was a great deal of interest in pony gear after the success of the unicorn, so I’ll be designing four different sets of gear in that category to create a mini collection, since it received the third highest votes. Fourth highest was Red Panda, another wonderful suggestion, Raleigh, and of course, we will have a traditional panda outfit to go right along with that one, because so many wrote in to ask for them too, though they weren’t a part of the poll.”
“And the final three, Daddy, what are they going to be?” Raleigh asked, bouncing in his seat again.
“A tiger, snow leopard and a lion,” I explained, loving the way Daddy sounded rolling off his lips. “People were extremely excited about the possibility of skintight catsuits that came in something other than the traditional, sleek black look. I am going to have fun crafting those. In fact, I was thinking that for the backs, I’d use faux fur to simulate the feel and appearance of the real thing.”
“So, the outfits would be dual textured?” Murry asked, already catching on to some of the lingo I used when discussing the construction of the gear.
“Precisely,” I replied as we pulled up in front of the Honey Hearth B&B.
The Victorian building had electric candles glowing in all the windows, complete with flickering effect, giving it a warm, cozy glow as we parked across the street from it. At least there was a space left, but then, we were roughly twenty minutes early. I knew from experience that almost half of the regulars didn’t tend to arrive until under five minutes before the start of the performance, with some still being seated when the actors were slated to start. It irked the owners to no end, but Bruce and Brenner had yet to decide on a suitable way to dissuade their patrons from continuing that practice.
“Whoa, are we actually going in there?” Raleigh asked as he peered through the window. “I’ve always wanted to see what it looks like.”
“Classic Victorian, just like the outside,” I explained. “The owners are friends and members of the Lactin Brotherhood. They live here and operate a B&B out of it. On the first Friday of every month, they also host a murder mystery night in the dining room, with homemade meals and everything. Just wait until youtaste the seafood lasagnas I ordered for us. They never fail to satisfy.”
“We love seafood lasagna,” Murry declared.
“I’m pleased to hear that, because it was the only thing on the menu that fit your tastes,” I explained. “They always do one beef dish, one chicken, one seafood, and one vegan. Dessert, however, you’ll get to choose for yourselves. They have several options based on the theme of the night’s murder mystery.”
“Which one are they doing tonight?” Raleigh asked as we stepped out of the car.
“One I knew you’d enjoy, after bingingNext in Fashionwith me,” I replied.
“Ohh, it’s fashioned themed?” Murry cooed as he fumbled with the door handle.
“Yup, and as an added bonus, Aspen is part of the play cast tonight,” I told them. “At the end, everyone will have a sheet to fill out, explaining who they thought the killer was, what they believed the motive was, and how they came to that conclusion. The winner’s meal is on the house, but there are prizes for the most creative motives and explanations. Personally, I tend to shoot for that one since even after fifteen shows, I’ve never been able to guess the killer right.”
“This is going to be awesome,” Raleigh said as he wiggled out behind Murry and closed the door.
Even excited, they waited for me to hit the button on the key fob to lock the car and held my hands on the way into the bed and breakfast. Brenner was in the entryway, greeting guests, which allowed me to introduce him to the new pets I’d been gushingover ever since they came to work for me. I knew he and Bruce hated missing the fashion show, but they’d had a full house last weekend, with their out-of-town family members filling the B&B for a get-together.
Before long, we were seated at a horseshoe-shaped table in front of a bay window, sipping our drinks and waiting for the performance to begin.
“Holy shit, this bread is amazing,” Murry gushed as he slathered honey butter on a slab of marbled rye bread.
“Bruce bakes it right here in the kitchen,” I explained. “Just wait until you taste the clam chowder. You’ll never look at the canned variety the same way again.”
Just observing them as they ate gave me further glimpses into their personalities. Murry dove into every new thing with gusto, while Raleigh nibbled and sipped, cautious as he tested out each new dish, but man, once he discovered he liked something, he was every bit as enthusiastic as Murry.
The murder mystery began with each character introducing themselves. Three were playing judges, and one acted as the mentor/consultant for the designers, while the rest of the twelve-man cast played designers. The consultant, who also acted as the narrator for the play, was the only one who was exempt from being named the murderer, which was the part Aspen played tonight.
We carefully observed the interactions between the characters and the critiques the judges gave them, many of which were so harsh they’d have made Nina Garcia blush. The lights flickered, a few in attendance gasped, and then one of the characters, under the cover of darkness, let out a strangled scream.
At the reveal that it was one of the judges who’d been stabbed through the heart with a pair of fabric shears, the characters all stood around the prone form, first in silent shock, then the accusations started flying fast and hot.
“You really want to pay attention to everything they say to one another,” I cautioned the boys. Not that they needed it; they were leaning forward in their chairs, staring in rapt attention, hanging on every word.
