Murder in the Mix (Books 4-6)

by Moore, Addison

  “I’m doing all right. But now that Tanner is gone, I’ll be relocating to Honey Hollow for the foreseeable future.”

  “Oh?” Lainey glances my way. “Why’s that?”

  A huge sigh expels from him. “I hope you won’t think less of my father, but he wanted one of his sons to take over the family business.” He looks to Everett. “My parents own Redwood Realty.”

  “Oh, I forgot about that,” I say, wondering if the plot to Tanner’s murder just thickened.

  “That’s right.” Hook takes in the crowd. “We’ve got offices in Honey Hollow, Hollyhock, Leeds, and three in Ashford. My sister—Rachel, thankfully isn’t too interested in having anything to do with the working end of the business. She’s perfectly content collecting a check for now.” He looks to Lainey. “She’s expecting.”

  “That’s great!” Lainey brightens. I remember that Tanner dragged Lainey off to her wedding a few months back. “Congratulations. You’re going to be an uncle.”

  “And I very much look forward to it. I always thought I’d be married with children at this stage in my life. And I’m anxious to get there. I’m just sorry my goof of a brother won’t be here to see it.”

  Everett leans in. “So you’re taking over the family business. Is your father retiring?”

  Way to keep him on track, Everett. I nudge my shoulder to his.

  Hook looks forlorn over the fact. “I’m afraid so. And I hate to say a bad thing about my brother, especially considering the venue, but it’s for the best the business lands in my hands.” He gives Lainey the side eye. “No offense, but my brother couldn’t keep his pants up long enough to sell a pencil, let alone an entire house.”

  Lainey’s eyes bug out. “I think I see Rachel! I’ll go congratulate her now.” And just like that, our circle grows smaller.

  “I’ve heard rumors about that whole couldn’t keep his pants up thing.” I make a face at Hook. And I’ve seen evidence, but I leave that tidbit out. “You don’t think a disgruntled ex offed him, do you?” As bad as I feel for doing so, I had to ask. It practically begged the question.

  Hook gives a soft chuckle. “My brother had no exes. He would sooner stab himself in the neck with an icicle than dump a girl. He was a lover, not a fighter.”

  Everett doesn’t look amused, but then again, he never does. “So, you’re saying this entire room is filled with prospective suspects.”

  Hook casts a quick glance around as he surveys the room. “I suppose so. But it would take a lot of rage to pull it off. I just can’t see him getting anyone that worked up.”

  That trio of suspects Pete fed us the other night comes to mind. “A woman scorned could easily do it. So could a disgruntled co-worker with an axe to grind.” Kelly Ferdinand comes to mind. I still don’t know one iota about her. “Or a brother looking to close in on a real estate empire,” I tease. But Hook drops that friendly grin from his face and stalks off.

  Everett steps in close. “What did you do that for? You practically accused him of murder at his own brother’s funeral.”

  “I had no idea he’d take it that way. Hook and I have always had an upbeat relationship. I guess I crossed a line.”

  “Or hit a nerve. Is that demon dog anywhere to be seen?”

  “Dutch is not a demon. In fact, his ruby red eyes are quite enchanting once you get used to them. He’s perfectly angelic when you get down to it. But no”—I crane my neck and spot him at the refreshment table—“right now he’s trying to polish off a tray of oatmeal raisin cookies. It’s my fault. I used that vanilla icing that drives him wild.”

  An older woman walks in front of us waving at someone behind Everett. “It was nice seeing you, Tim. And watch your packages. The thieves are still at it!” She waves again as she heads over to a familiar looking man with an unfortunately familiar looking dummy by his side. Ned Sweeny. I shudder just thinking about him and that stack of stupid perched on his arm who holds the key to my every living nightmare. Why would anyone play with those things willingly? What was the dummy’s name again? Earl Gray? Darjeeling. That’s right.

  Everett taps my arm, waking me from my stupor. “That must be Tim Wagner.” He glances to a younger man, early twenties, helping himself to one of my Christmas spritzer cookies. There’s something familiar about him I can’t quite place.

  “You’re right!” I yank Everett along without putting another thought into it. “Oh, hey,” I say to the young man as I reach for a couple of gingerbread cookies myself. “Sad day,” I say, looking right at him. “How did you know poor Tanner?”

  “Poor Tanner.” He averts his eyes as if he were anything but. “I worked with the guy.” He gives a quick glance over his shoulder. “He got me fired a few weeks back, so he wasn’t exactly my favorite person.”

  “Fired? Whatever for?” So it’s true. Ha! Good old Pete really was a wealth of information.

  He waves it off as he crunches a stack of iced sugar cookies into his mouth. “You know, everyone at the Parks and Recs Department takes off midday and puts down five on the time card. It’s a known fact. But it was just an excuse to get rid of me.” He pops another cookie into his mouth, and I shrug to Everett as if asking for help.

  Everett picks up a dessert plate and neatly piles on a nice mound of cookies himself. “So, what was the real reason?” Everett has a calm, trusting demeanor about him. He could wrangle even the most delicate secret out of anyone, and twice as easily if that anyone happens to be female.

  Tim surveys the room and scoffs as his gaze stops short of a stunning brunette with a pixie cut, and I gasp at the sight of her. That’s her! The last and final woman who had a chance to carnally climb Mount Redwood—at least that I’m aware of. Tanner could have had fifty by the time he ran out the door and was slaughtered. The boy had moves.

  “He didn’t like that I knew certain things about that family.”

  “Oh my God.” I lean in. “What did you know?” Not one ounce of me wants to believe that Hook offed his brother so he could leave Wall Street to peddle Honey Hollow real estate.

  He shakes his head as he looks back to Everett and me. “You really want to know? Ask Kelly Ferdinand yourself.” He pops another cookie into his mouth before heading out into the snowy afternoon. And then it hits me where I’ve seen him before. He was the guy I thought looked a lot like Noah the night of Tanner’s murder. He was in that small crowd that Lainey introduced us to. Huh. I turn to look at the pixie-haired brunette.

  “That must be her.”

  We speed over just as Kelly and her adorable pixie cut are headed for the door.

  “Excuse me!” I say, trying to slow her down.

  She turns as she’s cinching her coat before heading into the elements. “I’m sorry. I have a client in a few minutes, and I’m already running dreadfully behind.” She looks from me to Everett. “Were the two of you looking for an appointment?”

  “Yes,” I quickly volunteer the two of us for whatever services she might be offering.

  “Here.” She riffles through her purse and stuffs a card into my hand. “Call anytime,” she says as she stalks out the door.

  Everett and I glance to the card, and our heads inch back at the very same time.

  What in the world would Tanner Redwood need from someone like Kelly Ferdinand?

  And what in the world are Everett and I going to do with her?

  Chapter 10

  Everett and I stand outside an office building in Leeds, yes, Leeds. And yes, it’s just that bad. We’re both dressed like consummate professionals, which took zero effort on his part and one hundred percent effort on mine. But in my defense, I felt compelled to look somewhat equally yoked to the good judge in hopes Ms. Ferdinand will buy our act. Something tells me it will be a little harder to pull the wool over her eyes than it was Bella and the bikini brigade. In my hands, I hold a box of warm Christmas crinkle cookies because really? I wasn’t quite sure what cookies went best with what’s about to happen behind those walls.

&nb
sp; “Lemon,” Everett says as we stare down the sign that proudly reads Kelly Ferdinand, M.D. Sexual Therapist.

  Dutch whimpers as if he too were gravely concerned as to where this might lead next.

  “I know, I know,” I hiss. “But I swear this will be the very last time.”

  “It most assuredly will,” a stern voice belts out from behind.

  Everett and I turn to find Noah and Ivy Fairbanks dressed in matching hunter green wool coats, and I gasp at the coordinated fashion malfeasance. Noah’s eyes are hooded low, his face stony, and the muscles in his jaw popping with aggression as he stares down Everett. That wide chest, those hands that look as if they’re twitching to wring his ex-stepbrother’s neck, Noah is one hundred percent man, and he just so happens to be my man.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” I say, pulling Noah over to my side of the sexual divide. “Detective Fairbanks, consider yourself dismissed.”

  “Dismissed?” Her perfectly penciled in brows hike a notch as if she were amused. “What exactly are you dismissing me from? My own investigation? That’s right, Carlotta. This investigation belongs to me.”

  My blood boils ten times more than before once she eschews my preferred moniker.

  “You, Detective Fairbanks, may tend to whatever case you wish,” I grit it through my teeth. “But where I draw the line is you sashaying into that office with my boyfriend attached to your side. I’m not sorry to break it to you, but there will be no faux bae, boo, or honey bear parade for you today. The investigation may belong to you, but Noah Corbin Fox belongs to me. You can keep your corpses. I’ve got a living, breathing, real man by my side.”

  I clasp my hand around Noah’s and give a violent squeeze.

  Ivy smirks my way. “Fine. Judge Baxter, would you kindly portray my paramour?”

  “No,” I snip without fully thinking it through. “He’s mine, too.” I pen him in with my elbow lest I drop my Christmas crinkles at my feet. “We are a happy threesome, and we’re about to share that delicate information with the good doctor—with whom we are late for an appointment. So, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get a move on.”

  She shoots venom with Noah. My God, Ivy Fairbank’s eyes are far more frightening than Dutch’s eyes could ever hope to be.

  She sniffs the air in Noah’s direction. “I’ll have dinner waiting back at the office.” She stalks off in her four-inch heels, and I can’t help but note the red soles of those shoes are alerting me to the fact they cost more than my hatchback is worth.

  Noah cuts a look to Everett. “Leave.”

  “Nope.” Everett brings the lethal attitude right back at him. “Cupcake and I are here to learn a few party tricks to add to our repertoire.”

  My mouth falls open but not a word comes out because that just so happens to be the story we concocted in the car ride over.

  A strange rumbling sound comes from deep within Noah’s chest, and I’m half-afraid he’s about to blow a hole right through Everett’s skull.

  “Again with the Cupcake?” Noah’s chest expands like an accordion. “Don’t you dare call her that. This Cupcake belongs to me.”

  Everett slings his arm around my shoulders in a clear act of defiance, and Noah’s nostrils flare in a hot yet dangerous way.

  “We’re late, boys,” I say, opening the door and hitching my head for them to follow along. “You’re both coming with me.”

  Inside the office is homey with dense blue carpeting on the floor and a mahogany desk sits unmanned. Christmas carols play softly from the speakers, and a corner of the waiting area is decorated with a small stark white tree with cherry red bulbs. We’re about to take a seat when the door to our left opens and the stunning brunette with her perky pixie cut wave us in.

  “My secretary is off on holiday. She flew out to California to spend Christmas in the sun, so I apologize if you had to wait.”

  “Your timing is perfect,” I assure her as we head on in, and Everett sits to my left and Noah to my right. Dutch spins in a small circle in the corner and promptly falls asleep. He doesn’t seem to be having any adverse reaction to her, but I’m not entirely sure that clears her as the killer.

  “Please”—she sits behind her enormous black lacquered desk, and I can’t help but wonder what kinds of things have taken place in it, how many people have bent over it—“introduce yourselves.”

  “I’m Lo—Lolita and these are my, um, boyfriends—Essex and, um, Corbin.” They’re all partial truths. But seriously? Lolita? I could have done so much better had I not been under pressure.

  A friendly laugh bubbles from her. “I assure you all I don’t judge anyone, and I certainly won’t judge the three of you. You’d be surprised how many polyamorous relationships I’ve come across.”

  Everett clicks his shoe to mine. “Leeds.”

  “Pardon?” She perks to life in his direction. “Yes, please tell me anything you’d like me to know about you and your situation. We’ll start with you, Essex. When did you realize that Lolita was the one for you?”

  A dark laughs brews in his chest. “The day she fell to her knees and knocked her head to my crotch.”

  Noah explodes with a violent cough that I’m afraid will morph into a violent fistfight. Sadly, Everett didn’t have to fabricate a word.

  “We ran into each other quite literally,” I’m quick to say as I look to Noah. “It’s the truth.” And for the life of me, I can’t remember if I ever shared anything about the salacious meet and greet I had with his stepbrother the first day we met. I suppose the crotch-thumping cat is out of the bag now. I take a moment to scowl at Everett.

  The good doctor looks to Noah. “And how did you meet Lolita? Was it an equally colorful introduction?”

  Noah’s lips lift on one end, and I shrink a little in my seat. “Yes, Dr. Ferdinand, it was equally as colorful.” His eyes flit my way, and my heart skips a solid beat. “She bounced into my office, and after a brief verbal exchange, we too found ourselves in a tussle. I believe there was a generous lending of delicate body parts, and for a while I believed that perhaps she was flirting with me. But now I see that Lolita here simply has a propensity for physical altercations.”

  I shrink down in my seat a little bit more. It would be just my luck to need more therapy for my relationship after I leave this office than I needed when I stepped in.

  “Corbin”—she twists a pen between her fingers—“what, if any, sexual pressures do you feel within the relationship?”

  Everett grunts in lieu of a laugh. “They haven’t hit the sheets yet. They’ve decided to pencil it in, and life hasn’t allowed for that to happen.”

  “Pencil it in?” Kelly here looks equally as disturbed by this as Everett did when he first found out. And why is penciled in sex so bad to begin with?

  “All good ideas start with a plan,” I point out.

  “I agree,” Noah pipes up, that threatening stare slow to disengage from Everett. He looks to Dr. Ferdinand. “Lot—Lolita and I are quite eager to take our relationship to the next level.”

  She shakes her head as if maybe we’re not. “I’m sorry, but I’m not buying it. Not a lot of men would schedule a first-time encounter or agree to keep it dropping down the calendar. I’m thinking this has more to do with your insecurity with her relationship with Essex.” She looks to Everett. “I’m assuming the two of you have consummated your relationship?”

  “Yes.” Everett doesn’t miss a coital beat. “Many, many satisfying times.”

  Noah huffs a dull laugh. “If she’s so satisfied, then why is she looking forward to having me frost her cookies?”

  I give a frenetic nod to Everett. “Yes, Essex. I very much look forward to having Corbin frost my cookies.”

  Everett’s lids hood low, and the slight hint of a smile rides on his lips. “Nobody could ever frost your cookies the way I can, Cupcake.”

  Noah and Everett engage in an escalating war of salty words, and the room feels as if it’s spinning. Dr. Ferdinand’s lips are moving
, and I can’t turn my head left and right fast enough to keep up with the madness, so I simply turn around as far as I can only to spot a sofa behind us and sitting upon it are the prying eyes of a—

  A scream rips from me, and the room goes quiet as all eyes fall to the wooden menace watching us attentively with his legs comfortably crossed.

  Dr. Ferdinand trills with laugher. “Please don’t mind Charlie. He was gifted to me by one of my dear clients.”

  “Client?” The creepy dummy that Ned Sweeny insists on dragging around with him at Christmas parties and funerals alike comes to mind. I turn back to Kelly Ferdinand. “Ned Sweeny?”

  Her eyes triple in size, and she doesn’t have to say a word.

  “I’m sorry, Lolita. I’m not allowed to disclose my clients’ names. But if you find the puppet disturbing, I can have it removed.”

  “Oh no, that’s fine.” I glance to Everett and Noah. “I was just taken by surprise. The arguing didn’t help the matter.” A thought comes to me. “It just reminded me of a relationship I had that ended badly. Have you ever had a relationship end badly?” Finally. A segue that leads right back to Tanner.

  “No.” She shakes her head as if it were an impossibility.

  Drats.

  “Oh, wait.” She grimaces. “Yes, actually and quite recently at that.”

  “How did it end, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all.” Her brows furrow as if she minded very much. “Let’s just say for as much one-on-one time we enjoyed—it was necessary for us to take a permanent vacation.” A devious smile lifts her lips. “Although, before I could relay that news, he came to other, unforeseen circumstances and we indeed ended rather abruptly.”

  “Any hard feelings?”

  Her mouth opens a moment, then closes just like that creepy marionette is probably doing behind our backs.

  “No hard feelings whatsoever. In fact, you might say I’m a bit relieved.”

  Relieved? My entire body goes rigid.

  She squints over at the three of us. “Why don’t we wrap it up for today? I like to finish up on a positive note. Essex, why don’t you say something nice about your relationship with Lolita.”