A Killer Tail - Addison Moore Page 0,4
of a response. “I take it you are, too. Why do you think that is?”
“Most likely because we’re both natural born investigators and we know a murder is on the horizon.”
I bite down on a playful smile. “You just called me a natural born investigator.”
“That’s better than a natural born killer, don’t you think?”
“Ha-ha, very funny.”
A laugh rumbles through his chest. “I think I’m going to check out the room. At least that way I’ll have a false sense of security that we’re safe.”
I’m about to swat him for insinuating we’re in any danger, but Jasper’s off and running, utilizing those gray peepers of his to spy out any potential killers.
Wyatt Sanders heads my way with a man and a woman flanking him on either side.
“Audience or actor?” he asks with a smile. It’s only then I note he’s holding a black top hat in his hands, and inside of it I can see several neatly folded pieces of paper.
“Oh, um, actor,” I say. “What’s the fun of a murder mystery if you can’t participate, right?”
Wyatt offers a quiet laugh. “You’re a good sport, Bizzy. I like that. In fact, I’d like to introduce you to the manager here at Killer Books, Thomas Dean. Thomas, this is Bizzy Baker. She runs the Country Cottage Inn.” He ticks his head toward the tall man currently slouching with a humble smile, an elongated forehead, and a receding hairline. He doesn’t look that much older than me, somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties, I’d guess. We exchange polite hellos and Wyatt continues. “If you have any questions while the mystery is playing out, Thomas is considered home base. We ask that you don’t acknowledge the audience. It tends to break the spell.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that.” I smile over at Thomas. “If I have any questions, I’ll be sure to hunt you down.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “You won’t have to. Thomas will be next to the register the entire time, so you’ll know exactly where to find him.”
Thomas lifts his hand as if he were taking an oath. “Yes, sir. I’m not leaving my post.” Nope. I’ll be watching it all unfold right before my eyes. Sort of a fantasy come true.
Fantasy come true? I narrow my eyes over at him, trying to decipher what he could have meant.
“And this is Molly.” Wyatt nods to the short brunette with blunt bangs that frame her pretty green eyes and eager smile. She’s dressed in a pencil skirt and a black leather bustier—of which her ample bosom is spilling out of—and her lips are painted a bright shade of strawberry. “My girlfriend.”
Her lips part as she shoots him a curt look. Took you long enough to get the words out, buddy. Why do I get the feeling he didn’t want to say them? Knew it. He’s thinking of dumping me. I should have known it was over when he stopped falling asleep to the sound of my voice over the phone. How I miss staying up, just listening to him breathe. Now I’m lucky to get a text or two these days. It looks like I’m going to have to teach him a lesson. I’ll be sure to make it memorable this time.
I blink back. “It’s so nice to meet you.” I hold my hand out, and she shakes it.
I’ve seen people get worked up, and I find it’s best to derail their thoughts before they start ringing the bell on that crazy train they’re riding.
“Nice to meet you, too.” She makes a face my way. Is she looking at Wyatt? I bet she’s interested. I’ll have to keep an eye on this one. I can tell she’s—
“Engaged,” I say without pause. “In fact, I just got engaged.” I flash my dazzling ring her way. It’s an emerald cut diamond encrusted with smaller stones that drip over the band on either side. “I’m sorry. As soon as my fiancé popped the question, I haven’t been able to stop telling people about it. I guess you can say I’m super psyched to make it official.”
“Oh.” Molly looks momentarily confused. “Well, I’m really happy for you.” She turns her attention to Wyatt once again, and this time she doesn’t bother to hide her disappointment in him. “I suppose my ring is coming soon, huh?” Like he’s ever going to propose. I’ll end it with him before he has a chance to throw me away. Nobody treats me like garbage.
Thomas frowns her way. Dear God,