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

  Dear God.

  Noah looks my way as I exchange a nervous glance with Everett—who annoyingly seems unmoved by the situation.

  “We can double date!” she shrieks as she waves our way, and Noah politely removes his fingers from her death grip. “Aren’t Everett and Lolly the most adorable couple?” Her lashes dip a moment before she looks to the good judge. “I’ll admit, it stung when the two of you told me you were engaged.”

  “Engaged?” Noah nods as he glances back to Everett. He is definitely going to slit his throat.

  Eliza leans in and gives my cheek a hearty pinch—that will bruise in minutes. My God, the woman is after blood.

  “I’m just thrilled the two of you spent the night. It made my day to have breakfast with you the next morning.”

  Noah’s brows hike a notch, and his back straightens. Death is coming to Honey Hollow tonight. If I were Everett, I’d run. In fact, I might have to join him.

  Eliza gives Cormack a tap on the arm, thus breaking the Everett-induced trance she’s in. “Come, love. We must make headway before the storm.” She kisses Everett on the cheek. “Eve was one of our own. It’s in our moral code to attend all funerals possible. Cormack was kind enough to drive me.”

  “I’m sure she was,” I say. I’m just surprised there was room for two on that broomstick of hers.

  Cormack kisses Noah on the cheek. Her eyes flit to Everett’s as if gauging his reaction. “I meant what I said, Noah. You and me. A double date with the lovebirds.” She gives a fluttering fingered wave as they dive back into the crowd.

  “Lovebirds. Right.” Noah looks accusingly from Everett and me.

  “I can explain,” I volunteer. And why do seemingly questionable things always follow that statement?

  “I don’t want you to explain.” His eyes refuse to tear away from Everett’s. Noah’s blood is hitting a rolling boil. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes, his jaw is set tight, and his fingers are flexing as if readying to give Everett’s face their best shot. “Did you spend the night with my girlfriend?”

  Everett presses out a dry smile, so very rare, so very mocking in nature. “So what if I did? Judging by the way she was coiled around me in the morning, she seemed to appreciate it. Have I mentioned that one of us was naked?”

  Noah pulls back his fist and strikes Everett square over the jaw. In all honesty, it looks as if Everett gave him the shot.

  “You struck first blood,” Everett grumbles, and the two of them go at it like a couple of animals in the wild.

  The crowd screams as a wide berth forms around the dueling duo. Just when I didn’t think things could get any worse, that darn black bear bounds over and stands on its hind legs, letting out a menacing growl.

  “Noah, Everett, please stop!” I shout as the ghostly grizzly lumbers his way to the refreshment table, and my dessert platters go flying in the air for seemingly no reason at all.

  Dear Lord, forget the B&B. People are going to think this entire town is haunted! I head over and start tossing brownies into the air in hopes it looks as if it was me who made this mess in a failed attempt to get my boyfriends to stop killing each other.

  Did I just say boyfriends? That is NOT what I meant.

  The burly bear shuffles his way past me, suddenly interested in the war being waged to our left, and bounds his way over. His entire body lifts in the air above Everett and Noah, and all I can think is that he’s going to crush them both alive! I glance around for a weapon and quickly pick up the folding chair next to me before sprinting over.

  The bear lets out a horrific howl, its arms extended as he readies to insert himself in the tussle. He gets down on all fours, and I whack him over the head as hard as I can with the seat of that hunk of metal in my hands.

  The bear vanishes with a poof of sparkling stars, a beautiful sight really. And once the beauty fades, I see reality for the ugly beast it is.

  Lying unconscious beneath me, with blood trickling from his nose, is the love of my life, Noah Corbin Fox.

  Chapter 11

  After Noah came to—after he was taken to the E.R. and inspected for a concussion, which thankfully he did not have—after he and Everett went at it again, this time verbally—yes, Everett drove us to the E.R.—once we finally got home, Noah declined my offer to stay the night. He said he needed to think about the things that happened.

  The next day the bakery is slow. The storm outside has the entire town crawling to a stop. I spend the afternoon sulking in the café, staring at my laptop, just trying to take my mind off my impending broken heart and hopefully get some info on Brenda Lee, the third and final child of Eve Hollister’s that I’ve yet to inspect.

  Dutch came with me to the bakery this morning. His garnet red eyes are still a bit jarring, but the rest of him is all blond and beautiful, one hundred percent Golden Retriever. I assume he once belonged to Tanner Redwood since it was his body Dutch was determined to protect. And he did help me in trapping the killer. I garnered his name from his nametag, and I must admit, both he and his name have grown on me.

  Dutch keeps placing his paw over my arm until I give his head a hearty scratch. Normally, I’d be weary of petting a dog that’s invisible to the rest of the free world, but seeing that the bakery is nearly empty, I indulge the fantastic phantasm.

  Lily heads over and leans in from behind. “What do you keep staring at? Cat porn?”

  I turn around and shoot her a look. “I don’t even know what that is. I’m not sure I want to know. I’m trying to figure out what Brenda Lee does for a living.”

  “Brenda Lee Hollister?” Lily says it like she means it.

  “You know her?”

  “Everyone knows her down in Leeds.”

  Good Lord, please don’t let her be a stripper. Keelie vowed she wasn’t coming along for the pasty riddled ride the next time I needed to head that way. And quite frankly, I’m not looking forward to watching Everett ogle anyone’s bazingas either.

  Lily grunts, “She used to work out of a van, but I think she’s sharing office space somewhere down there now.”

  “A van?” I give a slow blink. “Do I want to know what kind of services she offers out of a van? Is she one of those mobile lawyers? Like the kind you see in the movies?” Here’s hoping.

  Lily belts out a laugh. “Hardly. Daphne is the criminal mind in the family. Brenda Lee is a personal masseuse.” She lifts her shoulders in turn. “In fact, I might head down there soon myself. I’ve had a bad kink in my neck since last week. Essex likes to do this thing where—”

  “Stop!” I hold up a hand and somehow manage to silence her without dunking her head in the chocolate cake I finished frosting for a birthday party this afternoon. “A masseuse.” I do a little Google Kung Fu and, sure enough, her phone number pops up. “Brenda Lee Hollister, massages you will never forget. Experience happily ever after at my fingertips.” I snap my laptop shut and shudder. “Thanks, Lily. Would you mind closing this evening? I have an appointment that just came up.”

  “Not a problem.” She starts to head back to the counter. “And, oh hey, Greer and Tinsley are stopping by in a bit. I told them I’d let them fool around with the coffee machine and show them how it works. They said they ordered the very same model for their shop.”

  “Great.” I lay it thick with my sarcastic superpowers. “Why don’t you pull out my secret recipe book and teach them how to bake all of our bestselling cookies?”

  Her mouth falls open. “Great idea. Do we have a secret recipe book?”

  I growl at her, and she rolls her eyes.

  “You were kidding, weren’t you?”

  “You catch on fast,” I say as I collect my things. “Thanks for closing up. Don’t sell the farm while I’m gone!”

  “What farm?” she calls out as I sail through the door.

  “Never mind!” I give a friendly wave.

  There won’t be a farm once Greer and Tinsley master my fancy coffee machine just in time to steal all my customers.r />
  * * *

  Confession: Outside of Noah, nobody has given me a massage before. And since I realize this is most likely done while bundled in a towel—far more accouterments than I have on while Noah rains his strong hands over my body, but I digress—it’s normally an event I’d want Keelie to participate in with me. Unfortunately for me, Keelie’s date with Hook went so well they’re already speeding toward date number two at this exact same moment. She was more than sorry she couldn’t join in on the fun but offered up her services for the next shenanigans on my list. Shenanigans. I’m not sure I’d call trying to solve a homicide investigation shenanigans, but Keelie has always been a straight shooter. And well, let’s face it, every last adventure we’ve had that’s been remotely tied to a murder investigation can be squarely categorized as a shenanigan.

  Everett and I pull up to the Happy Hands Massage Parlor in Leeds at the very same time. After Noah refused my company last night, I called Everett and told him all about my conversation with Nell and my transmundane standing. He seemed both intrigued and grateful that I shared it with him. And oddly enough, I felt a bit of relief just getting to tell someone, which only broke my heart all the more for Noah because it wasn’t him.

  “Lemon,” he says while glaring up at the oversized neon sign, which depicts a couple of hands caressing a woman’s back—only the neon sort of distorts the image, and it doesn’t quite look like a woman’s back. In fact, it looks a lot like a man’s—

  I clear my throat. “Nice to see it took zero prodding to get you to come out this way. It looks like a happy hand was just what you needed this evening.” I’m glaring, too, but it’s not at the sign.

  A dull laugh pumps from his chest. “I’ll have you know I would never set foot in an establishment like this. You’re lucky I consider you a good friend.”

  “A good girlfriend.” I nod, corroborating our story.

  “Fiancée,” he counters as he gets the door for me.

  “That’s the script,” I say under my breath. “Now let’s stick to it.”

  Inside, it’s claustrophobically small. There’s a statue of a cat waving at us, a series of incense sticks poking from a foggy glass bud vase, and the whole place reeks of cheap patchouli. A teenager sits behind a chipped Formica counter with a set of earphones plugged into her head. She doesn’t bother to ask a single question, just points to the closed door so Everett and I proceed with caution. Another labyrinth of hallways emerge, and the setting suddenly feels clinical. I spot a familiar shock of long, chemically dyed silver hair and squeeze Everett’s arm with excitement.

  Brenda Lee looks up from her phone.

  “Are you here together?” She blinks a few times our way. “Wait, we’ve met!” She bounces over to Everett, and I mean literal braless bouncing is taking place under that thin white T-shirt of hers—never mind the fact it’s less than zero outside. She’s so perky and scantily clad you’d think she were working for tips. Oh, wait.

  She really is pretty, and something about this whole scenario screams regret to me. I can easily see Brenda Lee climbing her way up Mount Baxter to become one of his coveted exes.

  She bats her long lashes at Everett. “I wondered when you’d come to see me. I’ve got a special room for you, way in the back.” She grabs him by the hand, and I quickly pull them apart.

  “Actually, this is a couple’s massage.” I blink a smile at the silver-haired nymph.

  She offers Everett a forlorn look that says better luck next time. “All the good ones are taken, I guess. This way.” We follow her into a relatively clean room, brightly lit with two vinyl pink beds. “Clothes off. On your stomach. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Clothes off?” I balk. Although, to be fair, I had envisioned myself swaddled in a towel. “Can’t you just work through our shirts?”

  Brenda Lee rolls her eyes with all of the angst of a thirteen-year-old. “These are full body massages that involve scented oils. Trust me, you won’t want any of that on your clothes.” She tries to leave, and I block the exit.

  “But what about robes?” I look to Everett in a panic, and I can practically see two little devils of delight dancing in his eyes. “Heck, I’ll take a hand towel.”

  And that’s just what I get. I make Everett turn around while I disrobe at lightning speed in fear Brenda Lee will waltz back in and observe all my bits and pieces before her time. Then carefully, I land that pocket square she gifted me over my bare bottom.

  Everett wrestles off his clothes—and I suspect it’s not a good thing that I’m getting used to the clinking of his belt and his pants unzipping, the subtle sound of clothing being removed achingly slow. Clearly, Everett does not fear Brenda Lee walking in and observing his spare appendage. He lies next to me, and I keep my head firmly turned to the opposite wall.

  The door creaks open, and Brenda Lee bops back in, whistling a tune before turning on the music from her phone. I must admit, it’s a nice and relaxing instrumental that under normal circumstances might have the power to lull me to sleep. But under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have a very naked Judge Baxter next to me. Ironic, since last week I did manage to nod off in a bed where he also happened to be gracing it with his naked body. I’m sensing a theme here—one I’m guessing Noah wouldn’t be too pleased with.

  “I’ll start with you, big boy, if you don’t mind,” Brenda Lee trills, and I hear a nice loud slap.

  My head turns that way and, sure enough, she just landed a firm hand over his rock-hard bottom.

  Oh my dear God. Everett Baxter has a finely formed—

  “My eyes are up here, Cupcake.”

  “I—uh, oh hell. I couldn’t help it. Sorry.” My cheeks burn with heat as I do my best to keep focused on those ocean blue eyes—trying my hardest not to pay attention to the fact a part of my brain is drinking down everything my peripheral vision has to offer.

  “I was just making sure you were safe,” I whisper. “You never know with these kinds of places.”

  “I heard that,” Brenda Lee chirps as she begins to pummel Everett below the belt.

  A low growl emits from the ornery judge. “Just keep up the good work. My fiancée has one mean jealous streak. It’s one of her many adorable quirks.”

  “Many?” I mouth the word over to him, completely unamused.

  Brenda Lee scoffs. “You think she’s bad. I just had another couple in before you. That detective from my mother’s birthday party and his wife.”

  “Wife?” My entire body rises off the table a solid foot, and the girls spring free. “Shit!” I fall hard and fast, flat on my belly before slowly stealing a glance Everett’s way. “Enjoy the show?”

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before, darlin’.”

  “It’s nice to know I have the power to bring out the country boy in you whenever I want.” I glance back at Brenda Lee who is currently kneading her elbow into his upper thigh and casually bumping his bare bottom with each up-stroke.

  Something tells me she was just as touchy-feely with Noah.

  “I had no idea Detective Fox and his fiancée tied the knot so quickly,” I grit the words through my teeth.

  Everett’s lips twitch smugly. “We’ll be sure to send them a fruit basket.”

  “Oh, I’ll definitely give them something.”

  Brenda Lee laughs. “I’m just glad I passed my business card out that day. Just to the men, of course. I don’t usually do women. Men are so tough, and strong, and I just love digging in deep and getting down into—”

  My phone bleats, and I gladly pick up the incoming FaceTime with Meg.

  My sister takes one look at far too much of my flesh.

  “What in the hell?” she bleats. Her jet-black hair is teased to the ceiling, and she has a neon yellow contact in her left eye and a bright red one in her right.

  I can’t help but offer a quick smile down to the ghostly pooch by my side, Dutch. You’re not alone, buddy. You are not alone.

  “Are you naked?” Her wild eyes
squint into the camera.

  “Just about. I’m in the middle of a couple’s massage.”

  “Ooh, who’s the lucky guy? The hot Fox or Mr. Sexy?”

  “Mr. Sexy,” Brenda Lee pipes up just as I point the phone toward Mr. Sexy himself. Lucky guess on Brenda Lee’s part, but honestly, it’s so very obvious with Everett.

  Everett’s face smooths out as if he were about to offer an affable smile, then just as quickly he recoils a good foot.

  “Geez.”

  The level of alarm in his face is priceless. Meg laughs herself into a wheezing fit.

  “It’s her favorite reaction,” I’m quick to inform him. “I’m guessing she’s heading into the ring soon.” I turn to Brenda Lee. “My sister is a wrestler in Vegas.” I look back to the screen. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

  “In haunted Honey Hollow? I heard they killed that old battle-ax—”

  I tap my finger over the little red button and cringe. Sorry, Meg.

  “No skin off my nose,” Brenda Lee snarks while digging her hands dangerously low on Everett’s back. “If you looked up battle-ax in the dictionary, you’d see my mother’s face. You heard someone did her in, right?”

  “What?” I feign surprise in hopes she’ll spill all the dirty details. “Who did this? How? In Honey Hollow of all places?”

  “That’s right.” She starts karate chopping Everett’s back, and he closes his eyes a moment as if lost in bliss. “Cops told us someone spiked her Kool-Aid.”

  “My God, who do you think did it?”

  “Could have been anyone. To know her was to hate her. My brother’s wife just left him because they can’t make ends meet. If he had his trust fund in play, he’d still have his family together. My sister, the big-shot lawyer”—she gives Everett’s back three hard slaps, and he bucks—“she’s not the Ms. Goody Two-Shoes she wants the world to believe. You think she put herself through law school waiting tables? She graduated without a single student loan to her name. Some might say she was a stellar businesswoman before she ever got her hands on a degree. And people laugh at what I do. At least it’s a respectable way to earn a living.” She works her hands lower over Everett’s body until she hits—