Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix Book 30) Page 5

  “I agree,” Noah says. “And believe me, I’m going to have a serious talk with my father, along with Cressida and Cormack. I just want to apologize to the two of you about the carnage my dad has caused. It would have been better for everyone involved if he would have just stayed dead.”

  After Wiley Fox fleeced Everett’s mother for who knows how much money, he staged his own death to keep away from the feds. Come to find out, he’s just as wily as his name suggests.

  “Don’t apologize.” Lainey is quick to shut down the effort. “Our mother is a grown woman. And if she wants to make foolish decisions, it’s her prerogative. Anyway, I’d better get this kiddo home and to bed. I guess the big love yourselfie conference on self-love is over.” She rolls her eyes. “Forest is wrapping things up here. He said he’d come home with me so I wouldn’t be freaked out about another killer running around on the loose.”

  I glance over to see Forest in his firefighter duds and thoughts of my father come to the forefront of my mind. It was on the floor of the Honey Hollow Fire Department where Carlotta dumped me as an infant. It sounds worse than it is because, in truth, it was the greatest gift she could have ever given me. The Lemons have been the best family I could have ever hoped for.

  Lainey sneaks a kiss to Josie’s cheek. “Anyway, I was going to surprise you with this, but I’ll be helping your instructor with those birthing classes you signed up for. First class is tomorrow!”

  “The birthing class,” I lament to Noah. “I forgot all about it. Everett is going to miss it. He’s going to miss everything from here on out and it’s all my fault,” I wail and Noah is quick to soothe me as his hand swims up and down over my arm.

  “He’ll be back. Maybe not tomorrow, but in the meantime, I’ll be right there by your side.”

  “Me, too.” Lainey pats my back in lieu of a hug. “I’ll see you both tomorrow at five-thirty. Don’t be late and try not to show up hungry.” She takes off and I sigh in her wake.

  How I hate that life keeps happening without Everett here to experience it with us.

  Noah nods as if he were thinking the exact same thing.

  A woman with the words coroner’s office emblazoned over her navy jacket steps into the room and begins taking pictures, just in case this turns out to be a homicide, and it will.

  It always does.

  I look to the two women huddled together—Sugar and her friend the brunette, then to the man with the ill-fitting suit as he glares over where Verity lies, and then to Bambi who’s in hysterics with theatrical weeping, and I can’t help but wonder if one of them caused this carnage.

  Noah helps me round up Evie, and we leave out the back door from which we entered. Just as I gird myself to step onto the snowy path that leads to the parking lot, something gold and glittery catches my eye on the ground.

  “Noah.” I grab his arm as I point down to it.

  Lying on the snow is not only a gold bangle, but the remnants of one of my raspberry tarts, and next to that another whole one.

  “Oh, Noah,” I say. “Verity came out this way earlier. And I know exactly who that bracelet belongs to.” I pull out my phone in haste and snap a picture of the scene.

  “Whoa.” Noah holds out his arm so that neither Evie nor I can take another step closer to what could be evidence. “Do you think this bracelet belongs to the killer?”

  “Maybe,” I say. “And I’m starting to think you should test that tart for poison as well.”

  Another death.

  Another killer.

  Another cursed night right here in Honey Hollow.

  Another ghost and another mystery to solve.

  When will it all end?

  Something tells me it won’t.

  Noah

  I ended up bringing my golden, Toby, over to Lottie’s place and we hung out all night.

  Toby thankfully gets along great with Pancake and Waffles, Lottie’s white, fluffy Himalayan cats, and a good time was had by all. I had Mangias deliver a large pepperoni pizza, and I made a fire while Lottie put on some movie about Valentine’s Day on the Holiday Channel. Evie raved all night about the fact she was on a dead woman’s Insta Pictures account, and seemed more than thrilled with the street cred that was already giving her at Honey Hollow High. Carlotta boasted about selling out of her new self-help book and shared that she’s already planning another one. And I held Lottie on the couch, our minds drifting from that fresh new homicide then straight to Everett and back on a loop.

  I never did go home last night. I tucked Lottie in then read to that sweet baby in her belly. And once Lottie fell asleep, I hung out on the bed until I fell asleep, too.

  I’ll admit, it felt right. It felt as if I had come home. I don’t need a paternity test to let me know that the baby she’s carrying is my own. I’m not sure how I’ve become so convinced of it—most likely from sheer desperation—but I’d bet everything I’ve got that the baby is mine.

  Valentine’s Day is coming up, and it stings a little more each year it sneaks up on me. It was just two years ago on the day that I was set to propose to Lottie when my ex-wife, Britney, came back into the picture and planted an axe right between Lottie and me.

  It was painful then, and it’s painful now.

  I don’t know why I didn’t just tell Lottie that Brit and I were separated. I had already told her about Brit, but I may have made it sound as if we were already divorced. I probably figured it was inevitable at that point. We hadn’t seen one another in a year. I was already pursuing the effort.

  Regardless, Lottie and I blew apart. And I sent her sailing right into Everett Baxter’s arms. My nemesis, my brother, all rolled into one. And even though Everett and I aren’t blood, I do consider him just that.

  The Ashford County Sheriff’s Department sits gray and lethargic this afternoon with mounds of pristine snow butting up against it as I head in its direction. And oddly, this tired building feels like home, too.

  Hell, I miss it just a notch less than I miss Lottie.

  This is who I am. My identity is sunk in this place. They took my gun away the night they arrested me, but I simply pulled one out of my own weapons cache and planted it right into my holster. I need it almost as much as I need my badge. In truth, I feel naked without both.

  I trek on into my old stomping grounds. Heck, my suspension is so new that none of this feels old at all.

  A few deputies nod my way with a friendly hello as if nothing at all had transpired—as if they didn’t show up just a few days ago and haul me down to the station like some common criminal. Not that they shouldn’t have. I’ve certainly given the department more than a few reasons to distrust my judgment. Hell, I don’t know if I trust myself anymore.

  Lottie asked me what I thought that fated night. She wanted my opinion regarding the fact Florenza Canelli’s ghost demanded we move her body from the morgue. Deep down, I knew I should have said no, but I didn’t. And now here we are. Both Everett and me with our careers on the line, and Everett with the balance of his freedom on the line as well.

  I make a beeline to the processing department then use my affable charm to convince the guards to let me speak to my brother. Yes, I very much played the family card just so I could get through those iron doors, and before I know it, I’m back in a cell with him, a far smaller cell with a single bed.

  Everett looks like a deconstructed version of himself in his government-issued tan jumpsuit. He surrendered his Italian tailored suit to Lottie a few days ago, citing it was too good for this place. I happen to think he’s too good for this place as well.

  “What do you want?” he grunts as he slowly brings himself to a sitting position.

  “Don’t get up on my account. The bed looks cozy.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m not inviting you to join me.” Everett slings his legs over the side of mattress as he glares at me with those violently blue eyes. That scruff on his face is so dark and furry he looks like a feral version of himself.

  “There was
another murder.”

  “What?” he barks it out. “Is Lemon okay? Evie?”

  “Yes, they’re both fine.” I quickly fill him in on the details I know.

  Everett takes a deep breath as he lands his elbows on his knees. “I take it you’re not on the case.”

  “Nope. But I’m hoping that will change.”

  “With your luck it will.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve never been lucky, and you know it.”

  Everett shoots me a look. “When you step outside of this cell in five minutes, I’d ask you to reevaluate. In fact, the pity visit ends now. Go walk your dog, or watch a basketball game, or hang out at the bakery. There’s nothing you can do here.”

  “I know. I just—I want you to know you won’t be going through any of this alone. I talked to Fiona, and she said she’d try again to press the right buttons to get you out on bail.”

  “Bail buys time.” His lips pull back a notch, and the look of fury in his eyes is unmistakable. “If this keeps going in the trajectory it is, then I won’t have much of that left on the outside.”

  “It’s going to get better, Everett. This entire mess is going to somehow miraculously go away. I’m going to make sure that happens.”

  “Noah,” he says it quietly as if he pitied me on some level. “I’m getting a trial by jury. They’re going to see my face on the security footage, and it’s going to erase any shadow of a doubt that I did this.”

  I turn my head for a moment because I can’t stand to look him in the eye.

  He’s right. I don’t see why I’m here trying to rain sunshine down over him while he drowns in a river I unleashed.

  “I’m fixing this,” the words grit through my teeth as I struggle to stifle my emotions. “I made a promise to you, and I’m going to keep it. You don’t take the fall for me. And don’t give me that I was there crap. We both know I got the ball rolling. I was there, too. It was me who did this. It should be me sitting in this cell, on that bed.”

  His chest pumps with a quiet laugh. “You were in Lemon’s bed last night, weren’t you?”

  My lips part to contest the idea, but I know better. Everett is a human lie detector. It’s useless to even try.

  “I was reading to the baby and Lottie fell asleep,” I tell him. “I may have fallen asleep, too.”

  “Thought so.” He’s right back to slaughtering me with that look in his eyes, and then with his next breath he softens. “Don’t worry. I’m not holding it against you. What’s on the agenda tonight? Candles? Lobster dinner? Maybe you’ll throw in a foot rub and roses?”

  “I’m taking her to the hospital at five-thirty. It’s night one of her birthing class, and she’ll need at least one of her coaches there with her.”

  A deep groan comes from him before he lets out a hard breath.

  “Okay,” he says it low as if it wasn’t for my ears at all. “Get out of here, Noah.”

  I rise to my feet and signal for the guard.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell him.

  “Thanks for the warning,” he growls. “Noah?” he calls out and I turn around. “Thank you for taking care of Lemon and Evie. I owe you one.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. I, on the other hand, owe you everything.”

  I take off and bump into Ivy on my way out. She has her hair in the perennial topknot, with that decidedly annoyed look on her face that seems ever present as she leans against the counter that leads to our offices.

  “You paid him a visit, I suppose?” She fans herself with the papers in her hand and stretches a sinister smile.

  “I sure did. And I wish I could take his place.” He’s taking mine.

  “Don’t be so torn up about it. I’m sure a little fancy footwork with the legal team he’s procured will land him on this side of bars once again. I’d think you’d be thrilled to take advantage of your time with Lottie.” She frowns when she says her name. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want. But not like this. Not with him locked up in a cage.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. “Lottie is still in a relationship with him.”

  She nods. “And you’re on the sidelines.” Ivy takes a step in and purses her lips up at me.

  I’ve only ever seen Ivy as my co-worker, and I have no plans on changing that in any way. Lottie let me know plenty of times that she thinks Ivy has a thing for me, and I’m hoping to God that’s not the case. The last thing I want is for things to be weird between Ivy and me. I spend more time with Ivy during the day than I do with anyone.

  “Noah,” she whispers my name low in a throaty register I’m not all that familiar with. “I think it’s time you move on.” Her eyes run up and down my chest and her tongue runs a quick line over her lips. “Maybe you’re not ready, but when you are—just know I’ll be here.” She nods up at me. “I can give you the push you need to see that there are other women out there. You’re an attractive man—strong, capable. It would be a shame to let you go to waste.” She lifts her chin. “Think about it.” She takes off, and I groan as I leave the station.

  Things just officially got weird.

  Lottie

  “So I was right,” I fume as I set down a platter of my raspberry tarts on the counter for Noah, Evie, and Carlotta to enjoy.

  It’s snowing gently outside the window of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery and the afternoon rush just died down. I just pulled out a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies from the oven and the entire bakery—and most likely all of Main Street—holds the warm sugary scent.

  The bakery is light and bright with butter yellow walls and pastel mix and match furniture. There’s a walkway through a shared wall to the Honey Pot Diner next door. My Grandma Nell once owned both the bakery and the Honey Pot, and now they’re both owned by me.

  But the crowning jewel of both establishments is the life-sized resin oak tree that sits in the middle of the Honey Pot. Its branches stretch over the ceiling and right over the ceiling of the café portion of my bakery. Each branch is wrapped in twinkle lights and it makes the place look magical.

  Noah just finished telling Evie, Carlotta, and me about his visit to Ashford. I had asked how it went with Everett, and he more or less told me, but I know Noah Fox well enough to realize that something wasn’t sitting right with him. And so I poked and I prodded until he spilled the Ivy Fairbanks’ beans.

  I growl over at him, “I’ve always known she’s had the hots for you.”

  “So what are you going to do, Uncle Noah?” Evie asks as she blindly snaps up a raspberry tart without taking her eyes off her phone.

  “What do you mean, what’s he going to do?” I scoff over at her before quickly landing a few of Noah’s favorite chocolate chip cookies on his plate as well. “Noah, you’re not dating Ivy, are you?” My voice hikes in a panic without my permission.

  Noah waggles his brows. “Am I sensing a hint of jealousy, Lottie Lemon?”

  “I’ll help you make her jealous.” Lily Swanson, a sassy brunette, is my chief employee here at the bakery. She flings a kitchen towel over her shoulder before giving me a wink. “I’m kidding, Lottie. You can relax. In fact, now that we’ve slowed to a crawl around here, I think I’ll go finish decorating for Valentine’s Day. The last thing I want is to get on your bad side and find myself with a poison tart in my mouth.” She scoops a box of decorations off the floor and heads to the front window to finish festooning it with foil hearts and cutouts of Cupid.

  “I hate to break it to you, Lot Lot”—Carlotta chuckles—“but technically, Foxy can date whomever he wants. You’re leashed to Mr. Sexy, remember?”

  Evie pretends to gag. “Please forgo from referring to my dad in any disgusting manner. Nobody wants to hear about how sexy their dad is.”

  “But it’s true, kiddo.” Carlotta gives a wistful tick of the head. “It’s going to be a dark day for the women of this world once they give him life behind bars. But on a bright note, all those criminal chas
ers will be pouncing on the fresh meat. Some women can’t resist a handsome prisoner. There’s just something about those conjugal visits that keeps them coming back for more.”

  “Eww.” Evie tosses a piece of her tart at Carlotta, and I’m certainly not going to reprimand her for it.

  “Nobody is having a conjugal visit with Everett. He’s not spending the rest of his life behind bars,” I hiss over at Carlotta.

  “Don’t despair”—she waves me down— “there’s still a chance he can. And once Sexy dons the prison blues, you’ll have an official in-mate of your own, Lot Lot. You’re gonna appreciate that visitation lovin’.”

  I make a face her way. “Why do I get the feeling you’re speaking from experience?”

  Noah’s chest bucks with a laugh. “I think you’ve just been outed, Carlotta.”

  She waves him off. “I don’t kiss and tell.” She winks over at me. “Not in front of the children at least. Tonight, when you and Foxy curl up by the fire, I’ll regale you with an erotic tale to help set the mood.”

  “We don’t need a mood set.” I shoot her a look for even suggesting it. “I’m not hopping into bed with Noah just because Everett is currently indisposed.”

  “Oh yeah?” Evie lifts a brow, her eyes still very much glued to her screen. “Then why did I see Uncle Noah sneaking out of your bedroom at six this morning?”

  “Noah?” I gasp. “Did you spend the night in my bedroom?”

  “I fell asleep after I read to the baby.” His dimples dig in deep. “And I wanted to make sure you had someone there in the event you needed anything.”

  “Aw,” I coo. “Thank you. I think.” A foot knocks me in the ribs and I buck. “Ooh, the baby just thanked you, too.”

  “That’s because it’s mine.” A greedy grin takes over his face as he says it.

  Evie lets out a sharp gasp before I can say another word.

  “What is it?” I do my best to crane my neck at whatever it is that has her fully immersed on her phone.