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

  “Nell, stay with us, please. You were going to tell me something important, remember? Something that I must never do.”

  “Oh, yes.” Her lids flutter open as she struggles to remain conscious. The felines purring over her bed begin to brighten as if someone were turning up their electric blue illumination. “Lottie, be sure to never interfere with the natural order of things. You must never claim any of the beasts for yourself. They have a master who they must return to once their job here is done.”

  “Claim them? I’ve hardly done that. Dutch has sort of claimed me. And I can’t help but love him. I’ve always wanted a large dog.”

  “Then get one. That dog belongs on the other side. His owner is waiting for him.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to go? What if I’ve already claimed him?” I know for a fact that I’ve already claimed him in my heart.

  “Something will be taken from you. Something you dearly love. It doesn’t always mean death, Lottie. But it can be a very, very bad thing.”

  “Like a run of bad luck?” Honestly, it’s the best-case scenario.

  “Like extremely bad luck.” She flicks her finger and blinks. “Come closer.”

  I lean until my face is hovering over hers. “I will try my best to always be there for you. I let you down in this life. I’ll try not to do so in the next.”

  “Nell, you could never let me—”

  “I love you.” Her voice is softer than the rustling of a leaf. At once her entire body lights up bright as the sun, as do those cats glowing over her bed, and in a quiet nuclear burst of energy, they evaporate all at once. The room grows eerily dark, and I’m still holding Nell’s hand, but it’s lifeless.

  Nell—she’s gone.

  Chapter 17

  Days go by in a blur. The logical part of me suggested I close down the bakery, in the least the very next day, but the illogical part of me—the one the seems to be at the helm of my emotions, suggested I head in extra early, running on zero sleep and tears in my eyes. I needed to be there, to do what I have always done when the going gets heart-wrenchingly tough—bake. I needed to get my hands into the dough and let my senses rouse with the scent of freshly baked cookies and cakes. I needed to lose myself in making sure each sweet treat was a masterpiece in and of itself. Healing will take time. I already know that. But baking will fill that time with something productive that feeds my soul.

  Both Everett and Noah have been rocks for me. Noah has been there every second for me once I get home, holding me, bringing me dinner. He stays the night and holds me and dries my tears with his own hands as he tries to gently kiss them away.

  Everett sent flowers to me, to Keelie, and to Becca, too. He’s texted me encouraging thoughts during the day and offered up a firm embrace each evening. I haven’t told him anything that Nell mentioned. And he’s been kind enough to give me space to grieve.

  As it stands, Everett is now the only living being who knows my secret. For so long it was just Nell, and there was a comfort in that. And now there is a comfort in it just being Everett. As much as I love Noah, I cringe at what he might think about me if he knew. I’m sure he would love me, but maybe it would bring out something altogether different in him? Maybe he would see me in a whole other light and not necessarily a good one.

  It’s morning, the day of Nell’s funeral, and Mom texted letting me know she needs a hand transporting some boxes from Eve’s home to the women’s shelter. Since Noah took the day off to be with me, he volunteered his truck for the effort, and we head over to Eve Hollister’s mansion together.

  “Now here’s a house for you,” I say as we head inside. “What did the forensics team find when they came?”

  “Took a lot of pictures, looked for anything out of the ordinary.”

  A thought comes to me. “Did they do that before or after they found out she was poisoned with that drug?”

  “Tetrahydrozoline?” He blows out a stuffed breath as he looks past me, right through the wall. “Before, well before. I don’t think the captain ordered another sweep.” He grimaces as if he sees the folly.

  “There’s a pitcher of water upstairs,” I whisper. “It’s in her bathroom, and I saw it the day I came to talk to—”

  “Hello there,” a somewhat chipper voice calls from the stairwell, and we look to find Valerie Vernon bundled in a turtleneck sweater and skintight jeans. She looks adorable. Her cheeks glow pink like a snow bunny that just got off the slopes. “I’ve packed my last box.” She huffs a laugh. “I’ll help move them to the porch and muscle them to your truck when you’re ready.” She looks my way. “Lottie, your mom said she’d be right back. Something came up, and she had to run to the B&B. You know where the bedroom is. I’m going to head to the cottage for a second.”

  “No problem,” I say, offering a friendly smile. I really do like her.

  She gives Noah a sly wink as we walk on by, and I suddenly like her a little bit less. Although, in her defense, she probably doesn’t realize we’re official. And let’s face it, Noah Corbin Fox is most likely one thousand percent easier on the eyes than those guys she gets paired up with. I shudder to think what she does with them behind closed doors for those exclusive bonuses. I’m pretty sure that’s where things stop being legal.

  I take Noah straight to Eve’s gargantuan bathroom and point over at the water pitcher, but it’s empty and turned upside down as if it were washed and it’s suddenly drying out. The lid, which also houses the filter, is lying on its side.

  “Valerie must have cleaned it,” I press the words out with distress. “Now if it was filled with poison we’ll never know.”

  “She could have been using the pitcher herself. You mentioned she was here every day helping your mother.”

  “She was, is. Daphne told her it was fine, and that she could still live in the cottage once it’s over.”

  “Valerie had the most access to Eve and just about everything Eve put in her mouth.”

  I suck in a quick breath at the thought of being in a house—no matter what size—with a killer. “We need to call the sheriff’s department.”

  His dimples flicker with amusement. “Lottie, I am the sheriff’s department. I can handle this.” He pulls a thin clear plastic bag from his jacket pocket and shakes it out. “Do you think you’ll have room in your purse for this?” He collapses the bag over the filter in an effort not to touch it and plucks it from its base before sealing it tight.

  “Absolutely,” I say, opening my tote as Noah carefully lands the filter inside. “But why the filter? I thought for sure the killer would have bypassed the filter and dumped it right in.”

  “I agree, but since the water is gone, I figure some of the poison might have leaked into the charcoal or the cotton fibers surrounding it. It’s all we’ve got.” His heated breath sears my cheek and, God Almighty, Noah Fox is hot when he is in full detective mode. I’m half-tempted to pull him on top of the nearest bed and—

  The distinct rhythmic squeak of the mattress comes from the bedroom, and I cringe at what I might see when I look out there. How I wish it were two normal humans going at it. Or even two normal bears for that matter.

  Noah’s head ticks to the side. “What’s that noise?”

  “What noise? I don’t hear a noise,” I say, following him back out there and, sure enough, there it is, a five hundred pound mammal tottering on all fours as if it were a child having a heyday on Mommy’s bed. Thank God the drapes are drawn and Noah can’t see the bed slowly rocking. “Oh, wait! I think I do hear it,” I say, ushering Noah right out of the bedroom and back down the hall. “It’s coming from one of these rooms.

  The door next to the bedroom just so happens to be a library of sorts. I peer my head in and see a desk.

  “The office! I bet this place is loaded with evidence. Come on, we have to explore and pray a very ornery bear doesn’t decide to explore along with us,” I mutter that last part to myself.

  And, my God, a bear of all things. I roll my eyes to h
eaven. Of all the cute, cuddly creatures she could have bonded with, she chose a man-eater. I think that says something.

  “That’s a good idea. The noise stopped, though.” His brows bounce my way as if he were onto me. My God, he’s not onto me, is he?

  We head right over to the oversized mahogany desk and spot a stack of bills in a basket. I get right to the good part and start opening drawers, bare fingers and all, but Noah doesn’t discourage it so it must be fine.

  “Look at this.” Noah holds up a letter my way. “It’s from Bill Chutney Construction.” He holds it up to the light. “I think there’s a large red stamp that reads overdue.”

  “Good for Eve! No thanks to Bill’s flippant view of the city building department, I bet Eve could be in a lot of hot water for the shoddy work he did.”

  “It looks like Bill is out of luck.” He riffles through a few more envelopes and holds another one up. “This is from the city.”

  “Huh. I bet they want their share. Not surprising.”

  “Did the city actually flag any of the work done here?”

  “I don’t know. I bet we could find out. I can ask Bear.”

  Noah frowns at the thought. “No need to involve your ex. I’ve got a license to pry. I’ll see how far I can get.”

  We dig around some more, but to no avail. The squealing finally comes to a conclusion, and Noah and I help take the last of Eve’s boxes down to the truck and drop them off at the women’s shelter.

  “I never want to hear anyone say again that Eve Hollister never did anything for anyone.”

  Noah ticks his head. “She just put a lot of designer labels on the backs of women who need it.” He glances to his phone. “It’s almost time, Lot. I’d better get you home if you want to make it to the funeral on time.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Ashford to turn in the evidence.” He nods to that filter sitting in my purse.

  “Sounds good.” I wrap my arms around him. “Oh, Noah, this is one funeral I wish I never had to go to.”

  “I know.” He pulls me into a firm embrace and brushes a tender kiss over my lips. “I’m sorry, Lot. I wish I could make the pain go away.”

  “You help.” I offer him a tight squeeze. “You really do help.”

  Chapter 18

  When putting together a seven-layer cake, there is a rhythm, a pattern that must be adhered to. The Bavarian cream must be made with the freshest ingredients. The berries, of course, are optional, and the layers can be any combination of chiffon cake.

  For the gathering after the funeral, both Keelie and her mother, Becca, insisted that I bake Nell’s favorite cake. They wanted to remove the tarnish of that terrible day from the prized dessert and thought it would be a nice way to share a piece of Nell’s culinary legacy with the guests.

  Honey Hollow Covenant Church is brimming with bodies, standing room only, and out the back door there is a crowd at least fifteen people deep. It is a somber, achingly sad, emotional service filled with sorrow. An oversized framed portrait of Nell as a bride stands larger-than-life at the altar, and she looks stunningly beautiful. Nell could have easily been a model or an actress. After the pastor finishes up, both Becca and William say a few kind words about their mother, and just like that, it’s over far too soon, just like Nell’s life. Some might argue she had a full lifespan, and that may be so, but I’m firmly in the camp that believes she was taken from us far before we were ready to let her go.

  The pastor dismisses the service, and the bodies in the pews begin to stir to life and head for the exit.

  Everett leans over. “Nell looks as if she could be your sister in that picture.”

  Noah grunts as he squints over at it, “You’re seeing things.”

  “Keelie and I have always had a similar bone structure. Honestly, she looks a lot like Lainey.” I stand up to see where Lainey and my mother are, craning my neck, standing on my tiptoes. A woman in a dark coat catches my eye as she makes her way down the side of the church as if she were walking toward the casket. She’s much like every other woman in here with a dark coat, but this woman has a baby blue knit scarf wrapped to her nose and a pair of Jackie O sunglasses eating up the rest of her face.

  Oh my word! That’s her! That’s my stalker. Only she’s not exactly interested in me at the moment. Instead, she speeds past the crowd paying their last respects to Nell and stands directly in front of the casket, blocking Nell’s body from my view.

  Noah and Everett rise by my side, and I don’t say a word as we follow the woman right out of the church. She makes a left for the street instead of heading to the cemetery across the way. Nell will be interned in the marble Sawyer family mausoleum right next to her husband. It’s a touching end to the beautiful story that was her life.

  Noah glides an arm around my waist and presses a kiss to my cheek. “How are you holding up?”

  “Ready to collapse in a river of tears.” I look to Everett, then Noah. “I couldn’t have done any of this without either of you.”

  * * *

  After the brief ceremony at the mausoleum, we head over to Carlson Hall where I help land dessert platters on each of the tables and offer coffee and refreshments to anyone who will have them. Dutch miraculously shows up for the wake, bouncing around with glee as if it were the best party in the world.

  Lainey and Forest come over with Noah right behind them.

  My sister pulls me into a warm embrace. “You’re not at work, Lottie. Nell wouldn’t want you running around taking orders. Relax, just this once, would you?” She sweetly brushes the hair from my forehead just as Noah glides an arm around me.

  “She’s right.” He lands a tender kiss to my nose. “How about I get something for you?”

  “I’m fine.” A pained smile forms on my lips. Fine is a relative word.

  Lainey’s eyes brighten, and I can feel one of her big ideas coming on. “The four of us should double date. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner.” Lainey does an odd little wiggle of the shoulders, and it’s as if she’s channeling our mother.

  “That sounds like a great idea.” I glance back at Noah, and he nods, dimples digging in with approval.

  Forest wraps his arm around Lainey, and they look as if they’ve been together for an eternity. “The fire department is having the Hearts of Hope charity event in a couple of weeks. All proceeds go directly to the homeless shelter. You should both come. Tickets are fifty dollars apiece, but it includes dinner and dancing—”

  A laugh bubbles in me, first one all day. “And all the dessert you can eat. Scooter, Chief McPhee, asked if I would cater and, of course, I said yes.” I turn to Noah. “I’d love to buy a couple of tickets.”

  Noah offers my waist a gentle squeeze. “Then that’s where we’ll be.”

  “Judge Baxter is going.” Forest nods Everett’s way. Everett who is currently ensconced in a cloud of estrogen. Lily and her sorority sisters have him caged in. “Lily and her friends bought their tickets, too.”

  “Just great.” I don’t mean for it to come out as sarcastic as it does. Oh hell, I did. It’s Nell’s funeral. I can be as ornery as I want.

  “And on that note”—Lainey pulls Forest away by the tie as if it were a leash—“I think I see some of your famous Florentine cookies we need to get our hands on.”

  Everett comes up just as they take off and fills their void.

  “What? No harem?” I glance over his shoulder to find Lily and her friends gawking his way. “Did you get tired of them drooling all over you?”

  “Hardly. But I thought I should check in and see how you’re doing?” His dark brows bounce, that frown returning quickly to his face.

  Everett’s perpetual scowl is what keeps the girls coming to the yard. I’m convinced of it. I think it gives him that bad boy appeal, and considering Noah wears a matching scowl on the regular, I happen to know this from experience. I give Noah’s facial scruff a quick scratch absentmindedly.

  I look to Everett. “Rum
or has it, you’ll be at the Hearts of Hope charity event that the fire department is putting on.”

  The good judge rocks back on his heels, his lips twitching with the idea of a smile. “I don’t see why not. It’s for a good cause.”

  Noah scoffs. “If the cause is in your pants. Speaking of which, you should seriously consider picking a lane. You keep entertaining the masses, and that junk in your trunk is liable to fall off.” He pauses a moment. “Mack is still available.”

  Everett glares at Noah so intensely I’m half-afraid we’re going to have an emergency room reprisal.

  “Yes”—Everett grunts—“but I am very much engaged.” Everett nods my way. “Speaking of which, Detective Fox”—Everett squints toward the entry—“I think I see your wife heading this way.”

  No sooner do Noah and I turn around than we find a giant redheaded stack of poison ivy staring us in the face.

  Her crimson lips purse my way. “Carlotta. I’m sorry for your loss.” She offers a curt nod before turning to the real reason she’s here, my man. “Noah, if you don’t mind, I need to have a word with you.” Her eyes flit my way for less than a second because, apparently, my grief is suddenly insignificant.

  Noah presses his mouth to my ear. “I’m sorry, Lot. I’ll be right back.”

  They take off for the exit, and Everett is quick to step in front of me and block them from my view.

  “Lemon”—Everett chases my gaze until it’s locked over his deep blue eyes—“I’m a patient man, but my concern for you is overriding my ability to keep my cool. Did Nell give you any new information regarding your gift before she passed away?”

  I do a quick sweep of the vicinity before stepping in closer to him and thus eliciting the evil eye from Lily and her trio of tramps.