Seven-Layer Slayer: MURDER IN THE MIX 5 Read online

  “And we’re done.” Everett holds a hand up, and she makes her way to me.

  I wrinkle my nose at him. Way to ruin a winning streak confessional—of sorts.

  “So, Brenda Lee”—my voice vibrates as she chops her way over my back—“what did your sister do to put herself through school? I mean, it couldn’t be as bad as my sister who runs around in less than a bikini for a living.” I totally think female wrestling is a commendable career choice, but have no problem throwing Meg and her cronies under the wrestling bus in order to catch a killer.

  “Let’s just say, for a lawyer, she sure thinks she’s above the law.”

  “Thinks?” I glance to Everett whose eyes seem to be roving freely over my mostly naked form. “As in present tense? She’s still doing it? Like a side gig?”

  “It ain’t no side gig. She pulls in more than she does with her day job. She’s not giving it up for nothing. It makes what I rake in look like peanuts.”

  “Well, you could go into that line of work, couldn’t you? I’m sure your sister would pull a few strings for you.” Come to think of it, when we met with Daphne, she alluded to the fact she had a dark side. Something about the things she had to resort to…

  “It’s not for me.” Brenda Lee slaps me over the derriere as if punishing me for even mentioning the idea. “I’m choosier than my sister. But she’s brought others in. The girl who worked for my mother is one of them. Daphne helped her with some legal trouble, and I guess she felt sorry for her. Who wouldn’t? She worked for Eve Hollister.”

  “Eve’s live-in maid?” I lift my torso, just shy of flashing Everett with my boobs again. “Valerie Vernon?”

  “That’s the girl.”

  I glance to Everett, and he gives a slight nod. Dutch rouses to life and begins spinning in circles anxiously, his red glowing eyes turning on and off like a beacon. “Do you think Valerie could have killed your mother?” I don’t take my eyes off that spinning pooch. I’m determined to believe he has a purpose for sticking around. And, dear Lord, am I ever glad it’s not that fifty-foot bear. I don’t think Pancake nor I could have handled the trauma.

  “Maybe so,” Brenda Lee chirps. “Either her or that witch that’s had it in for my mother for years. The one that works at the hospital. They were peas in a pod until they weren’t.” She huffs at the thought. “They were constantly sabotaging one another.”

  Everett turns his head her way. “How do you know? You made it sound like you weren’t that close to your mother.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t in the traditional sense. But I called once a week on Sunday. Every now and again I’d head over and fall on my hands and knees and beg for her to reinstate my trust fund.” An easy smile glides over her face. “And now all I have to do is wait until that fateful day.”

  “The reading of the will,” I say as I look to Everett.

  Brenda Lee slaps me silly, up and down my torso, and manages to smack me over the bottom once again before heading out the door. I make Everett turn his head while I dress myself, and I do the same for him.

  We step out into the frozen January night and head to our cars.

  “Well, Lemon?”

  “I think you got far too much action tonight.”

  The hint of a dark smile flickers on his lips. “Don’t worry, Cupcake. You’re still the one for me.” We pause a moment before heading back to Honey Hollow. “Valerie Vernon and Connie Chutney. Two mysteries within the mystery.”

  “And don’t forget Daphne’s dark side.” A thought comes to me. “Hey? See if you can figure out what her moonlighting gig is.”

  “I bet it involves Leeds.” His brows waggle as if he approved.

  “I bet it doesn’t. She’s desperately fancy despite her financial rough patch. Ever hear that saying you can take the kid out of the street, but you can’t take the street out of the kid? Same theory works in reverse.”

  “You want to bet, huh?” His voice hums with amusement. “Loser cooks the winner’s dinner. I think that’s fair.”

  “Ha!” I can’t help but laugh. “I’d like to put in my order for chicken piccata.”

  His cheek twitches. “I like my steak rare.”

  “I wonder if Noah likes his steak rare? I’m pretty sure I should know that about him. We are definitely not seeing enough of one another. All these murders keep getting in the way.”

  “Maybe you should ask his wife.”

  And on that sour note, we take off in our respective cars, and all the way home I try to distract myself from Noah and his newly minted wife by trying to solve Eve Hollister’s murder. Two more suspects remain—that I know of. Certainly a lot of people wanted Eve dead.

  I glance out the window as the snow-covered evergreens whiz by in a blur.

  Somewhere out there, roaming free, there’s a killer on the loose.

  But I’m determined to find justice for Eve. The killer won’t be free for long.

  No, in fact, their days are very much numbered.

  Chapter 12

  It’s still early evening by the time I get back to Honey Hollow. I feed Pancake and pet Dutch’s underbelly until his hind legs beg to thump right off his otherworldly body. I build a fire and stare at my phone, wishing my boyfriend wasn’t so busy with his wife.

  A knock erupts on the door, and I pick up my first line of defense, Pancake the menacing Himalayan.

  I glance through the side window and spot Noah’s familiar frame and instantly I’m giddy.

  “Who is it?” I bite down on a smile as I decide to play it coy.

  “Prom committee. We’re taking votes for king and queen.”

  A giggle rips through me as I swing the door open and take him in, tall, arrestingly handsome, and all mine—sort of. “I’d vote for you and me, but I doubt your wife would approve.” The smile glides right off my face.

  “Ah, you paid Brenda Lee and her magic fingers a visit, I see.” He takes a step inside, and I close the door behind him. “Let me guess, you brought your fiancée along for the ride?” His lips purse. Noah looks decidedly unhappy about this development.

  He heads over to the coffee table and lands a picnic basket on it that I hadn’t even noticed he was carrying.

  “What’s this? Did your wife prepare what will undoubtedly be my last meal?”

  “If she only knew the things you do to me behind closed doors.” A devilish grin glides over his face as he opens the lid and begins extracting the contents.

  I wrap my arms around him and land a kiss to his scruffy cheek. “They are nothing compared to the things I’m about to do. What’s in the Mary Poppins’ bag?”

  “Candles.” He holds up a candle in a jar before pulling out six more. “And sandwiches from Mangia. Did you know they make a mean eggplant?”

  “You better believe they do.”

  He pulls a couple of champagne flutes from the basket, and that wicked grin of his glides up one cheek. “Sparkling cider for tonight.” The grin glides right back off. “Neither of us needs a hangover to deal with.”

  “Touché.”

  “What’s the occasion?” I ask as he sets up the candles in a large circle over the hardwood floor and proceeds to light them despite the fact Dutch is mercilessly barking and skipping through the tiny flames.

  Noah fiddles with his phone, and a slow song bleats out of it before he turns out the lamp in the living room.

  “It’s prom night, Lottie.”

  “You remembered!”

  Noah pulls me by the fingertips until we’re standing inside the candlelit circle, our bodies moving slowly in time with one another. His rock-hard body presses over mine, and I take in his woodsy cologne and moan with delight. For a blissful moment in time, Eve Hollister, that horrid circle of suspects, all of Honey Hollow, the world dissipates to nothing. It’s just Noah and me, our very own universe. The beating of his heart echoes over mine until they beat as one.

  His lips find mine, and Noah blesses me with deep, dark, heartfelt kisses that transcend the investig
ation, that have the power to transcend space and time. His strong hands make their way up the back of my sweater, and I groan as soon as his skin hits mine. This moment, right here, is bliss with Noah—prom night in my living room, slow dancing with nowhere to go, nothing to do but enjoy one another.

  The two of us engage in an awkward shuffle to the bedroom. The tugging of clothes, the bumping of teeth as we find ourselves lost in a spastic tango. Noah lands me horizontal and warms my body with his, and Dutch lands on the bed right next to us. I shoot the fuzzy phantasm a look that says don’t you dare—and, miraculously, he tucks his tail between his ghostly legs and trots on out of here.

  Noah’s hands begin to knead me far more proficiently than anything I received earlier this evening, and I wholeheartedly approve of his very happy hands. Noah leaves no stone unturned as he lavishes his love over me. Noah and I are so hot together, the room erupts into proverbial flames. Noah is mad with passion, every one of his moves dangerously delicious. Noah never disappoints. He is a perfect gentleman, as much as he is a beast who can never be tamed. And I enjoy his wild side many, many times until we both collapse over one another, glowing from the exhausting exhilaration of it all.

  Noah does a sandwich run, and soon we’re cuddled up in one another’s arms feeding the appetite we just worked up.

  “Who’s next on your list?” I ask. “And don’t you dare tell me your wife had you take a vow of silence on the matter.”

  A laugh bullets from him, and I can feel his body rumble against mine. “The brother—Daphne, too. Honestly, if we don’t come up with something soon, the case could grow cold.”

  “That would be terrible. Eve was one of my mother’s very best friends. A cold case can’t be the end of her story. We need to bring it to justice.”

  “We?” He jostles my arm and lands a kiss to my forehead.

  “Yes, we—as in you and me. We should team up. I bet we’d be a powerhouse. We took down Ned Sweeny, remember?” Ned was the one that officially killed Tanner Redwood. His stepdaughter thought she did it with an ice pick, and Ned mistakenly thought it was his paramour who attempted the ice pick slaughter so he finished the job. It was twisted.

  “That’s because we had remarkable motivation—each other.” Noah lands a heated kiss just above my ear, and it makes me shiver.

  “True. But Eve’s killer is causing us just as many problems. Like, for instance, we should be doing this on a daily basis, and instead we’re—”

  “Spending the night with other people.” Noah’s forest green eyes darken at the mention of that foible I had with Everett. “Do you realize that Mack has called me twice wanting to go out?”

  “What did you say?” A bite of jealousy rips through me. Mack is beautiful, and something tells me she could still have her pick between Everett and Noah.

  “I said no. I told her I was seeing someone very special, and that I was indeed very much taken. Just FYI, she doesn’t think you and Everett will last. She still thinks she has a shot with him.”

  “What?” I laugh at the thought, and just as quickly another spike of jealousy shoots through me. “Mack and Everett would never work. She’s far too pretentious for him.”

  “True, but she’s one hundred percent Fallbrook born and raised. You can’t blame her. Pretentious is steeped in the water.”

  “Maybe so, but if Eve’s killer was caught in the first place, I would have never gone out to Fallbrook—and along with Everett’s plan to begin with.” Wait, that’s not entirely true, is it? My head is still blissfully dizzy from the joy ride Noah just took me on.

  “If it means you’ll stop sleeping with my stepbrother, then I’ll throw this investigation into overdrive. Who do you think I should focus on?”

  A part of me wants to say Valerie and Connie, but another part of me says if he gets to them first, they’ll be stale by the time I arrive.

  “Just do as you’re told. I hear your wife can put a drill sergeant to shame.”

  “I don’t take orders from her, sweetheart.” He gives a sly wink as he places our empty plates onto the nightstand. “I only take orders from you.”

  Noah flicks off the light once again, and Dutch bounds into the room and onto the bed with those bright crimson flashlights he once called eyes, but I don’t let them distract me.

  Noah touches his finger gently to the tip of my nose. “Give me an order, princess.”

  “Kiss me.”

  And he does.

  Chapter 13

  “Coffee cake, bear claws, cronuts, apple, blueberry, and lemon turnovers, cheese, apricot, and strawberry Danishes, chocolate horns—banana walnut, chocolate, poppy seed, and apple crumb muffins, cranberry scones, thumbprint cookies, Florentine cookies, cupcakes by the dozen, vanilla and chocolate,” I say to Lily while expelling a deep breath. “If I bake another thing, I’m going to fall to the floor.”

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is bustling despite the snow falling softly to the ground. I wanted to get ahead in my baking so I can focus on trying out new recipes for Nell’s big birthday bash coming up in a few days. Those ominous words she said to me before she left the funeral still cling to my mind. There is one thing you must never do! What is that one thing? What could it possibly be? And, let’s be honest. The odds are—I’ve already done it.

  Lily wrinkles her nose as she looks out the window. “There she is again.”

  I follow her stare, only to see the woman in the red coat looking into the bakery, her signature scarf pulled to her nose. Sunglasses on.

  “She’s so obviously up to no good,” Lily grunts. “Why don’t you sic that cop you’re dating on her and be done with it?”

  I take in a lungful of vanilla sweetened air. The bakery always smells divine after a long, hard baking session, and considering the baking never ends, it always smells like heaven.

  “She’s probably just a tourist waiting out her trip while the rest of her party goes on that haunted house drive-by of my mother’s B&B.” I growl as I say it. “I can’t believe people actually think it’s haunted.”

  “Oh, it is,” Lily assures. “In fact, good luck getting me to set foot in there ever again. Word on the street has it your mother is putting together tours at sixty bucks a pop.”

  “She is not.” I quickly wave the idea away just as the bell chimes and my sweet, innocent mother breezes this way. She’s donned a red dress and black coat, and a luminous string of pearls graces her neck. “You look fantastic.” When I asked if she was up for a little adventure, I should have specified casual attire would be more than enough.

  “I agree,” Lily adds.

  “Thank you.” She gives Lily a cheeky wink. “After Lottie and I get back from our little adventure, Brad is taking me to Leeds to a premier establishment for an adventure of our own.”

  Gah! The Jungle Room!

  “No,” I spit the word out so fast you’d think he were standing behind her with a ball gag. “Nothing good ever comes of going to Leeds, Mother. You have to trust me on this one.”

  She averts her eyes. “So, where are we off to?” Her eyes meander to the freshly filled shelves. “Ooh, and Lily, can you box up a piece of coffee cake for me? A cup of coffee, too, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure thing.” Lily gets right to the task as I take off my apron and grab my purse.

  “I’ll be back in about an hour or so,” I say, taking my mother’s goodies from her.

  “Whatever.” Lily checks her long, dark locks in the mirror on the wall behind the register. “The girls might stop by again. Greer and Nikki still haven’t gotten the hang of the coffee machine, and they’re due to open up in a couple of weeks. Tinsley is learning how to master the chocolate chip cookie. And since you’re running low, we might just whip up a batch or two.”

  I make a face as I usher my mother to the door. “Knock yourselves out, but don’t sell them. And don’t break anything while I’m gone.” And don’t steal any top-secret recipes, but I think it might be too late for that. I’m n
ot thrilled with this soon-to-be coffee shop that suddenly has the urge to sell cookies, but I’ll deal with that headache when I get to it. Right now, I have yet another suspect in Eve Hollister’s murder investigation that I need to shake down.

  Noah may not approve, but that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

  * * *

  Honey Hollow General Hospital lies on the outskirts of town, a tall boxy building, white with dark, secretive windows. It’s always been one of my least favorite places to be. It was one of the last places I saw Joseph Lemon, my father, right after he had a heart attack down at the fire station. And it is exactly the place where he breathed his last. It was Joseph Lemon who found me abandoned as an infant lying on the floor of the firehouse. He and Miranda, my sweet, yet cagey mother, knew right away they wanted to adopt me, and am I ever glad they did. I can’t imagine having a family other than this one. Things truly did work out for my good in the end.

  “Oh, Lottie.” Mom makes a face like she might be sick. “You do realize I’m practically allergic to this place.”

  “You and me both. But don’t worry. We won’t be here for long. I just need to talk to Connie Chutney in a way that won’t arouse suspicion.”

  She sucks in a quick breath. “You don’t think she killed Eve, do you? Connie Chutney is destined for sainthood. That woman runs more volunteer leagues than there are volunteer leagues.”

  “I don’t know. But just pretend you’re interested in volunteering to fill Eve’s void or something to that effect and I’ll try to size her up.”

  No sooner do we enter that venerable sick den than the scent of ketchup mixed with rubbing alcohol hits my senses. Mom and I gag as we head up to the second floor where the volunteers have an office of their own. The floor is bright and clean with green patterned carpet and white vinyl tiles that mark off the corridors. We follow the volunteer center sign until we come upon a desk with an all too familiar gray-haired well put-together, friendly-faced woman seated behind it.