“We just finished up storytime by the sea with the kids,” I tell them, trying to keep things light. Heaven knows, Macy is capable of actual bloodshed. And for all I know, Camila is capable of plunging a knife into someone’s chest.
“Aww, did they make you read books?” Macy swoops in and steals Ella from my arms, planting a kiss on her chubby cheek, and Ella responds by hugging her Auntie Macy like she might blow away with the next strong wind. For all of Macy’s complicated feelings about babies and people in general, she absolutely adores her niece and nephew.
“And what do you mean by storytime?” Macy sniffs, looking between Buffy and me with suspicion. “You sit in a circle and read naughty books?”
She and Camila snort with laughter at the thought.
“We readchildren’sbooks,” Buffy explains patiently. “To actual children. While they have juice and snacks. I actually do the reading. It’s lovely.”
Macy arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I like my idea better.” She looks my way with a gleam in her eye that spells trouble in capital letters—in every language known to man. “How about tomorrow night? We’ll do it inside. That way, not just any roving ears can hear Buffy read the naughty bits.”
“Excuse me?” Buffy blinks in confusion.
“Oh, come on, sis.” Macy winks at her with far too much enthusiasm as if she’s just discovered a new form of entertainment. “It’s for a good cause. Camila and I are trying to liven things uparound here, unlike Bizzy, who specializes in dragging in the dead.”
Camila and Emmie belt out a laugh, and I frown at my best friend. “Et tu, Emmie?”
“I’d better get going,” Emmie says, standing up and adjusting a sleepy Elliot on her hip. “I’ve still got a few more cakes to bake for tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” I ask.
“We’re having a cake tasting for the bride and groom in the cafe at ten o’clock. Come! Trust me, your taste buds will not want to miss this extravaganza.”And neither will your amateur sleuth buds.
She blows me a kiss, and baby Elliot does the same, making my heart melt into a puddle.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, quickly kissing Elliot on the cheek. “Ella and I will be there with bells on. And my proverbial deerstalker hat, too.”
Macy and Camila continue their way down the beach, but not before yelling back to us. “Don’t forget to provide finger foods and drinks for tomorrow night’s Storytime After Dark!” Macy calls out.
“And thanks for reading for us, Buffy!” Camila shouts back. “I’ll provide the books from my own personal collection!”
They dissolve into cackles while collapsing onto a lounger near the shoreline. Candy, Macy’s Samoyed, bounds over to greet them before taking off to join the pet party by the water. I notice Skittles, Buffy’s labradoodle, is already there, playing some kind of elaborate chase game with the other dogs, and I can’t help but envy them.
“So,” I say to Buffy, watching our sister with amusement, “any thoughts on tomorrow night’s impending shenanigans?”
Buffy grins, that same mischievous smile I see in the mirror every morning. “Well, I suppose someone has to supervise the chaos. And who better than the sister who actually knows how to read out loud without setting anything on fire?”
“You have a point,” I concede, then lean back in my chair and watch the sun sink lower toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.
Because while Macy and Camila are planning their adults-only storytime, I’m planning to catch a killer—and somewhere between wedding cake tastings and whatever literary chaos tomorrow night brings, I have a feeling this killer is about to discover that their story doesn’t have a happy ending.
CHAPTER 9
The warm honey glow of lamplight reflects off our polished hardwood floors as I sink into the yellow and white checkered sofa that’s become command central for our chaotic but blissful life.
I’m home now, and our cozy cottage looks like a baby boutique exploded in the most wonderful way possible. There are colorful toys scattered across the braided rug, a bouncy seat positioned strategically near the coffee table, and enough baby gear to stock a small daycare center.
Ella sits in the middle of it all like a tiny queen holding court, babbling happily at her blocks while Fish, Sherlock, and Truffle form a protective circle around her and allow her to pick and peck at them all. One of Ella’s new favorite things to do is stacking blocks and immediately knocking them down, which she seems to think creates the most delightful chaos, and the pets are her willing accomplices in this architectural destruction.
The front door opens, and Jasper appears bearing bags from Dragon Express, looking like a knight in shining armor who’straded his horse for takeout containers. And I wholeheartedly approve.
“Dinner is served,” he announces, setting the bags on the coffee table and leaning down to kiss me. “Kung Pao chicken, beef with broccoli, and sweet and sour shrimp. Plus, enough egg rolls to feed a small army.”
“Lucky for me, I’m hungry enough to eat for a small army. Have I mentioned lately that I love you?” I say, already reaching for the containers. The spicy aroma of the Kung Pao mingles with the savory beef and the tangy sweetness of the shrimp, creating a scent that makes your mouth water instantly—and your stomach growl like a dragon.
Food! Glorious food!Sherlock barks and yips with excitement as he abandons his post as Ella’s entertainment committee. He’s only loyal as far as his appetite allows.
It’s Chinese food, you glutton,Fish points out.Not exactly dog-friendly cuisine.
