Murder in the Mix (Books 4-6) Page 4

  “Lemon? Everything okay in there?” I recognize that surly tone. It’s Everett.

  “Just peachy!”

  “What was that thump?” he growls as if my acrobatics offended him on some level.

  “An experiment in how many ribs I can crack from couch diving. If it’s an Olympic sport, I think I have a shot at medaling.”

  The door swings open and in rushes a frozen hurricane-like wind.

  “Dear God, close that,” I snip as Dutch the demon dog bounds happily from one end of the room to the other. In his defense, he simply looks like he’s having a great time. Who knows how long it’s been since he’s stretched those beautiful legs? His long, glossy mane glows ethereal in the light, and he really is a gorgeous specimen. He calms down long enough to walk in a circle before coming over and attempting to lick my forehead. “You are such a love! What a handsome, sweet boy—yes, you are,” I say, struggling to get on all fours myself, and Everett helps hoist me up the rest of the way.

  “Thank you.” He takes a half-step back. “I think.”

  “Not you.” I wave him off before reaching under the couch and extricating my poor sweet cat. “I was talking to the dog. Which, by the way, is why Pancake is completely out of sorts.”

  Dutch whimpers before lying down and covering his eyes with his paws.

  “The dog?” Everett gives a curious look around without moving a muscle in his body. Even though Everett is trying his best to understand my peculiar supernatural capabilities, I can tell the struggle to submit to his black and white view of life demands to win over. His eyes widen as he looks to me. “That dog?”

  “Yes, that dog,” I say, plopping down on the sofa with Pancake, and up bounds the exuberant retriever and plops himself right next to us. Pancake’s nails dig right through my velvet emerald dress and sink into my skin. “Ouch,” I yelp before ribbing the pooch. “Would you mind scooting over? You really are crowding me.”

  “Lemon, you’re scaring me. What is that dog doing here? And if I’m not mistaken, your cat isn’t too thrilled with the idea.”

  “You’re perceptive. To answer your questions, I don’t know—and you are correct. Pancake seems to be picking up on him just like he picked up on your father the day we moved into the neighborhood.” Everett moved in next door the same day I took up occupancy here. His father sort of christened the place as far as any spooktacular presence goes. “His name is Dutch, and I’m guessing he belonged to Tanner, but I have no clue why I can’t seem to shake him. He seems to have a superior intelligence.” The pretty pooch lifts his head, and his lips curve to the ceiling as if accepting the adulation. “And he’s absolutely adorable—if not for those glowing ruby eyes of fire. It’s a bit off-putting.” Dutch whimpers, and I give him a quick scratch between the ears, and oddly enough, Pancake begins to purr. “Finally. I think they’ve both settled down. Now to you, Judge Baxter. Why in the heck did you leave my sister out of your sight? She’s a lead suspect in Tanner’s murder—as is Forest.”

  “As are you.”

  “No way. Nobody believes I did it.”

  He inches back. That crimped scowl lets me know he’s amused. “Why would they? You screamed at him not once but twice tonight, and you were found with the murder weapon in your hand—while hovering over his motionless body.”

  I shrink a little in my seat. “Yes, well, you see— Oh good Lord, you’re right. Soon enough, they’ll accuse me of being the package thief, too. But I swear I’m innocent, Your Honor. I swear on Tanner Redwood’s Golden Retriever I didn’t do it.”

  “Lemon, you don’t need to plead your case with me. You already did that, remember? And I happened to side with you on that matter as I side with you on this.”

  “We caught him with two different women in the span of an hour. Do you think it was one of them?”

  “I don’t know. All I know about the guy is that he looked like someone I’d have locked up on Christmas Eve.”

  “Lainey should have thrown the book at him months ago. And really, Everett? You let my sweet, innocent sister, the librarian, give you the slip?”

  “She’s wily—much like her sister. Besides, she said she had to use the ladies’ room. I wasn’t going to follow her in there. So I waited.”

  “Why do I sense a but coming on?”

  He takes a moment to glower at me. “But—before she could come out, I heard a horrible crash outside, and as luck would have it, I saw a pair of taillights speeding away.”

  I suck in a breath and swat him with a throw pillow. “You must have seen the murderer in their getaway car! What make? What model? Wait—are those the same thing? Never mind all that. What color was it?”

  “I didn’t see anything other than the red glow of lights, but I’m willing to guess the car was either silver or white.”

  “How do you know?”

  He pulls out his phone and holds it between us as a picture pops up on the screen. “I went outside and found some broken glass under this minivan. The van is black or navy blue, I couldn’t tell, but see those lines?”

  “Yes,” I say, pulling the phone forward and inspecting three clean white striations.

  “I figure the car that struck the van was a pale color.”

  “Wow, that’s a nasty little dent they left as a parting gift. Did you tell Noah?”

  “That’s the thing. I went back into the foyer of the community center to check on your sister, and by the time I figured out she was no longer in there, the minivan was gone, too. I tried to tell Noah, but he blew me off.” His lips flicker in annoyance. “However, I think I’ve just told a far more experienced detective.” He leans in and brushes his finger over my nose. “What about you? I bet you already have this figured out.”

  “Nope. In fact, my sister and Forest were both pretty hostile this evening. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Forest ditched the sheriff. He might be twenty minutes into Canada by now trying to outrun homicide charges. Forest hated Tanner.”

  “What kind of car does Forest drive?”

  My eyes expand the size of snowballs. “A silver Mustang.”

  “I guess we know who Noah will be paying a visit to come morning.”

  “No way. Noah cannot find out. I’m positive Forest didn’t do this. I’ll handle this one on my own.” My heart thumps wildly in my chest. “There’s just no way that Forest killed Tanner.”

  Everett’s chest thunders with a dull laugh. “You’re not going alone. I get off work at two. December is a light month.”

  “Fine. But I’m only letting you come along because I like your company. I’m perfectly capable of delivering cookies to the firehouse all on my own.” My nose twitches the way it does when I’m fighting a good cry. “Every time I go back to that firehouse, I swear I can feel my daddy there.”

  He rattles my knee with his hand. “It doesn’t always get easier, does it? That’s another reason for me to be there with you. I can commiserate. Ever since my dad and I made up, I miss him on a whole new level.”

  “I’m so glad you had a chance to make amends.”

  He nods as his eyes magnetize over mine, and I’d swear there were tears glistening in them. He takes in a sharp breath. “So, I guess Noah will be popping by soon. It’s prom night, right?” His brows bounce, and a bite of embarrassment rips through me.

  “It was going to be. But he’s a little tied up. We’ve decided to reschedule.”

  “Reschedule?” He shakes his head wistfully as he heads to the entry. “That sounds like a Noah move.” He turns my way as he’s about to duck out the door. His lids hood low, and a hint of dirty intention twitches at his lips. “Just for the record, Lemon, I don’t pencil in the important things. I let them happen as often and as loud as they want.”

  An audible gulp escapes me.

  “Night.”

  He leaves with a click of the door, and both Dutch and Pancake give a forlorn look in that direction as if they were sorry he was gone.

  “I sort of wish he hung aroun
d, too,” I whisper.

  There’s been another murder in Honey Hollow, and not only did they take Tanner’s life, they erased my good time with Noah.

  And as shallow as it sounds, I’m equally ticked about both.

  Chapter 5

  The Naughty Hottie Book Club is a bawdy compilation of both Naomi Turner’s rather new literary endeavor and my mother’s historical fiction book club defects. There’s really just a handful of my mother’s cohorts who wanted in on the younger sect’s sexy reads. This month’s salacious selection is Santa’s Ho Ho Hos, a steamy read about the horny head elf himself and a bevy of naughty North Pole beauties. It sounds perfectly perverted, and I’m thrilled I was too busy with the bakery to partake in the madness.

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is the scene of this literary crime. It’s where Naomi—Keelie’s twin, but you wouldn’t know it with those long, dark locks, her sour disposition—Lily Swanson, along with my sister, and just about every woman in Honey Hollow sit at the edge of their seat giggling and gasping as Naomi reads a steamy excerpt out loud. The entire left side of the bakery gets up en mass and heads for the exit as Naomi acts out every gasp and moan.

  “Would you keep it G-rated?” I hiss as I refill their coffees with a painted-on smile. “Or I’ll have to rethink hosting this sexual scholastic endeavor.”

  Keelie waves me off. “If she gives us the boot, we’ll hightail it to the Honey Pot next door. There’s no way we’re letting Ms. Prissy Pants put a damper on our good time. She’s just steaming mad because that murder last night put the kibosh on the penciled in nookie she was supposed to have with that detective boyfriend of hers.”

  “Keelie!” And what is with the penciling in analogy? First Everett and now Keelie. My mind wanders to that double heart I drew onto my calendar last week. It might be true, but still.

  My mother gasps with delight, as do Eve Hollister and Chrissy Nash. Eve is the co-leader of the OG book club, and Chrissy Nash is the mayor’s ex-wife. Mayor Nash was cheating on her with about a dozen different women, and he hasn’t let up yet. Sadly, it sounds as if Tanner and the mayor had a lot in common.

  Hey? Maybe whoever offed Tanner is a serial killer bent on eliminating the cheats of the world and they’ve decided to start in Honey Hollow? If that’s the case, then Mayor Nash had better watch his back. And maybe they steal packages because they’re too busy to shop what with all the killing to be had. Makes total sense.

  “Aw”—my mother grabs ahold of my left hand—“my little lady is on her way to becoming a woman. I’d hold out for the ring if I were you.”

  Eve, the woman who looks as if she could be my mother’s mother but is shockingly the same age, shakes her head. “Never you mind the ring, honey. The clock is ticking. I say go for the baby. At the end of the day, the ring may not stick around for as long as you’d like. But kids—they’re the gift that keep on giving.”

  “Hear, hear.” Chrissy lifts her mug as if she were toasting. “Have some fun while the fun is ripe for the picking.” She lowers her cup to the table with a thunk. It’s only then I notice that her eyes are red and glossy, her face puffy as if she’s been crying. I bet Mayor Nash was flashing some pretty young thing in front of poor Chrissy last night. Sadly, it’s not a shocker. He can be a cad like that.

  Eve wraps an arm around her. “Oh, hon. It will get easier in time. Why don’t you get yourself one of those young bucks? You know, the ones who’ll shag whatever moves? You’d be surprised what a delicious night of sin can do for you.”

  Mom chortles as if she too were apprised. “The medicinal benefits alone are well worth it. Do you realize you need to stimulate those hormones or they’ll just dry up and disappear? Dry up!”

  “Dear God in heaven,” I moan as I top off their coffee in a fury. The last thing I want to hear is a dissertation on the benefits of sex espoused by my mother.

  Chrissy wads up a napkin and dabs her eyes. “I’ve got to run.” She no sooner hitches her purse over her shoulder than she’s out the door.

  Eve cups a hand around her mouth. “I agree, honey. There’s no time like the present!”

  She and Mom chortle up another storm before they exchange high fives.

  “Mother, I don’t think she was scampering off to find the nearest young buck. I think she was really upset.”

  She averts her eyes at the thought. “She’s just really upset that we’re right. But don’t you worry about Chrissy.” Her shoulders do that salacious wiggle that makes me squirm. “She’s hinted at the fact she has a paramour. And he’s a young buck indeed.”

  “Who? Who?” Eve does a poor impersonation of an owl.

  Mom shakes her head. “She wouldn’t say. But he’s the reason she’s had pep in her step as of late. I hope she brings him to the tree lighting to really give Mayor Nash a taste of his own medicine.”

  “That will be the day.” I make my way to the other end of the lewd literary society just as Lily is finishing up a salacious tale of her own.

  “And when I woke up, I tiptoed on out. I like to keep my morning look a mystery for as long as I can.”

  “What’s this?” Something in me stirs to life at the thought of Lily ditching Everett for someone more her trashy speed. “Who’s the unlucky fella?” I give a sly wink. Lily and I aren’t nearly as hostile as we used to be before she worked at the Cutie Pie. Dare I say, we might even be friends now.

  “Essex,” she hisses his name like a dirty secret, and I gasp as if I just inhaled an entire handful of chocolate chips.

  “Es who?” The carafe nearly slips out of my hand.

  Lily rolls her eyes. “Everett, to you. I’ve graduated to calling him by his real name.” Her shoulders bounce in turn as if every last inch of her approved of this news.

  “Oh my God, you spent the night with Everett?” I can’t get my head around this.

  He spent the night with Lily of all people? She’s practically my worst enemy in the world. How could he do this to me?

  “That’s right.” Her eyes sparkle as if someone lit a match and stuck it in her ear. “And look at this.” She fishes a pair of odd-shaped silver earrings out of her pocket. “They’re cufflinks, Lottie. And they’re his. Everyone knows that cufflinks are the new class ring.” She takes off with a smirk riding on her smug face.

  I suck in a sharp breath just as Dutch barks and bounds his way over. The adorable phantasm hopped right into the van with me this morning and made a sport of chasing his tail around the kitchen island. He’s quite the entertaining cutie—at least to me since I am the only one capable of witnessing his glory. It’s a shame, though. A beast as regale as he is should be appreciated by all. Well—maybe with the exception of those glowing red eyes. I don’t think anyone would appreciate those much. I’d ask him to tone down the supernatural if I thought he could do it.

  Keelie hops up next to me. “I have to get back to the grind, but I just have to say I really am sorry things didn’t work out for you. How about you roll with the punches and let him find a little Lottie treat snuggling under his covers tonight? Slip into that naughty nightie I bought you, and once he flicks on those bedroom lights, he’ll find the gift of a lifetime. You.”

  “Keelie, if I hide out in his bed, he’s liable to pull a gun on me. Breaking and entering in a detective’s house is not the brightest idea. Unless, of course, your plan is to put an end to me.”

  “My plan is to end your dry spell.” She gifts me a peck on the cheek and takes off for the Honey Pot.

  The Honey Pot is conjoined with the Cutie Pie Bakery through an entry that was made in our shared wall. It was my ex’s, Bear’s, doing. He did the renovation and made sure to have it all done in record time. In fact, the large resin oak tree that sits planted in the middle of the Honey Pot and its twinkle light strung branches that graze over the ceiling were graciously extended through the café portion of the Cutie Pie. It was a gift from Nell and Keelie, but it was Bear’s handiwork that helped pull it off.

  Lainey c
omes up, looking forlorn.

  “I’m surprised to see you here. You should have taken the day off,” I whisper as I pull her into a firm embrace.

  “I did, but I couldn’t stare at the walls another minute. I needed to get out.” She makes a face. “I came by to get coffee and got an earful of things I want nothing to know about. Did you hear that thing with the sleigh bells? Do people really do that?”

  “It’s fiction, Lainey. Dangerous fiction. The human body isn’t made to do ninety percent of those freaky things.”

  Mom crops up. “All right, you two. Sorry to break up the party, but I need to take off. Lottie, can I order three-dozen Christmas tree crunchies for the B&B? Oh, and about a dozen or so Bones of the Dead? I like to keep it festive this time of year.”

  Lainey gags on cue.

  “Oh, you.” Mother brushes her off. “They’re traditional Italian Christmas cookies, and I happen to have an entire enclave of Italian tourists staying with me.”

  “You bet,” I say. “I can have them to you later today.”

  “Perfect. I’m having dinner with Bradley tonight.” Her entire body gyrates when she says it.

  “Mother! I’m warning you. Stay far, far away from him. He’s nothing but trouble. The two women he was with are dead and in prison respectively. God only knows where you’ll end up.”

  A rumbling laugh brews deep within her. “I already know. It’s the bedroom,” she whispers that last word out, and yet it’s still far too loud. “Ta-ta!” She takes off with a wave of her fingers.

  Lainey moans as she makes her way to the door. “I’m going to throw up now.”

  “Oh, hey”— I trot over—“what happened with you and Forest last night?”

  She bites down on her lip. The guilt on her face is thick enough to frost a cake. “He stayed most of the night. He’s working today, but he said he’d swing by again tonight. I said I’d pick up a pizza in case he was hungry.”