Devil's Food Cake Doom

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Devil's Food Cake Doom Page 4

by Addison Moore


  I screamed all night through that tiny air hole they call a window up near the ceiling. I pounded on the walls and cursed up a storm.

  Heck, I even tried conjuring up my dead grandmother and father. But then, I’ve never had the talent of calling the dead to me. They just sort of appear from nowhere—and their presence has never really signified anything all that wonderful to begin with. It usually means death is on the horizon. And, believe me, there was a dark hour last night when I wallowed in enough self-pity to believe that death would be a welcome reprieve—but only so I could bust on out of here and haunt that trio of witches that arranged for me to be here in the first place.

  Sure, Serena played naïve. She outright denied that Cormack and Cressida had anything to do with my kidnapping. Not that I realized I was being kidnapped at first. Not until I couldn’t get out of this prison cell of a bathroom.

  Serena confessed that Noah and Everett hadn’t invited me to the lodge either. She said she wanted to head on up and see what the fuss was about and figured I would want to join her.

  She was wrong about that.

  I wouldn’t normally get into any sort of moving vehicle with her at the helm. I don’t care if she was driving a city bus.

  But I’ll admit, she got me at my weakest moment. I was burning with anger that Noah and Everett went off skiing with a couple of ditzes.

  It really steamed me. Heck, I was about to pile into my own car and head on up just so I could tell them off. In fact, I regret not doing just that. Although, at the moment, I’m not nearly as upset with Noah and Everett as I am with myself. I should have known better. After all of these months of running into psychopaths, you would think I could spot one in the wild by now.

  And that little black gift bag I spotted in the back seat of Serena’s car tipped me right off. She caught me looking at it, so, I asked her what it was. She said it was a gift for her sister—a small ring she purchased at some great Valentine’s sale last week. So, of course, I snatched the bag up myself and took a look inside.

  And, well, she was right.

  I can’t help but make a face as I pound weakly over the door once again.

  “Serena? Let me out. I don’t want any trouble. I just want to go home.” My voice is threadbare and every muscle in my body is humming. “I believe you. You didn’t send the cookies.” And boy, did I scout every last inch of this tiny tawdry room she calls home. I went as far as flipping her mattress over and nothing. And that’s when I came in here. I figured she could have an Easy Bake Oven plugged into the wall for all I knew. Of course, I locked myself in once I spotted a duffle bag on the floor. But there was nothing to implicate her in here either.

  The only thing I’ve gleaned is the fact that Serena Digby has very bad taste in clothing. All black and not a stitch of it with any style. Just skintight sweaters and jeans. I suppose that’s her uniform—right along with a pointy hat and wand.

  The sound of thunderous footsteps rumbles in this direction and I cease all movement. My breathing stops as I land my ear to the door.

  “Serena?” I scream her name at top volume. “Anyone?” I shout so loud the door vibrates beneath me.

  “Lemon?” a deep voice riots out and every molecule in my body feels as if it’s exhaling for the very first time.

  “Everett?”

  “Lottie!” Noah’s voice bellows from the other side.

  “Noah! I’m stuck! She’s trapped me in here!”

  “Step away from the door, Lemon,” Everett howls and I jump into the shower as if he just barked a sexual command at me—something he’s done a time or two. And come to think of it, I did land in the shower just this way on such an occasion.

  The door bursts open, and soon I’m in the strong arms of Judge Essex Everett Baxter, stealing a moment to take in the faint scent of his cologne as he wraps his body around mine, tight as can be.

  “Lemon.” He drops a kiss to my head before releasing me and Noah pulls me to him doing the exact same thing.

  In an instant the tiny room is swarming with deputies as Noah carefully leads me out of the bathroom.

  “Are you hurt?” He quickly examines me with wild eyes. “Lottie, what happened?”

  Everett pulls a chair forward and I happily fall into it.

  It takes about thirty seconds for me to relay the events as they took place, inspiring both Noah and Everett to exchange a quick glance.

  “She’s still out there.” The words stream from me in a panic. “You need to find her and make an arrest. That black bag she had was the very same one she was tormenting me with last month.”

  Everett’s mouth opens and closes. “Lemon.” His cheek twitches. “You said you found a ring in it?”

  I can feel my adrenaline spiking. “Yes, but I just know she did it. She locked me in here, for goodness’ sake.”

  Noah and Everett look to the deputy examining the bathroom door as he shakes his head.

  “I’m sorry.” The deputy runs his finger along the inseam of the doorframe. “The lock is just rusted. Nothing unusual outside of that, but we’ll have someone come in and take a better look.”

  “What?” I spike right out of my seat. “You can’t be serious. That woman locked me in here. I was her prisoner.” I look past them. “She got away, didn’t she?”

  Noah swallows hard before filling my head with some story about Serena going out to buy me cookies and twisting her ankle.

  “Oh my God.” I drop my face in my hands a moment. “And you believed her?” I look to the two of them and their silence says it all. “You have got to be kidding me. The woman has been tormenting me for weeks, and she’s been doing it for the benefit of your ex-girlfriends, by the way.” I don’t mind one bit throwing out an accusing tone.

  Everett winces. “Cressida and Cormack told us all about the hex.”

  “They did?” I’m almost amused. “So I’m assuming you believed them.” I didn’t mean to put an emphasis on that word, but with no sleep, food, or water—okay, so I might have taken a few sips from that rusted bathroom sink, but still, I’m not in the best of moods. I’m only a moment from exploding.

  Noah sighs. “It sounded as if it were something they would do.”

  I growl without meaning to. “It was and so is this. If you don’t think Cormack and Cressida were the ones driving this crazy train, you’re out of your minds.” I suck in a quick breath as I recall something equally as distressing. “You are out of your minds, aren’t you? Why else would you have gone skiing at the lodge without me—and with those two featherheads of all people?”

  Noah and Everett exchange a glance before shrugging at one another.

  Everett scratches the back of his neck. “All right, Lemon. I’ll tell you this much. Noah and I are working on a little something for you. Cormack and Cressida caught wind of it, and Noah thought it would be a good idea to involve them.”

  Noah’s chest pumps with a dry laugh as he shoots death rays at his old stepbrother. “That’s not how it went.”

  “Okay, okay,” I say, holding my arms out in the event things decide to get physical. “I have no doubt those two bimbos muscled their way into your midst, but I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just want to go home and take a bath, snuggle with my precious cats, and sleep until noon tomorrow.” A horrible thought hits me. “The bakery!” The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is my baby. I can’t just abandon the place because my body is begging for a little shut-eye. Okay, fine. It’s begging for a lot of shut-eye—hours and hours, miles and miles of uninterrupted bliss.

  “It’s fine,” Noah assures, taking me back into his arms. “Keelie and Lily have everything under control. The important thing is that you’re safe.”

  Everett takes a breath as he gives a quick look around the room. “I want this place searched. And then I want Serena Digby’s car torn apart for any sort of a clue.”

  “And I want her arrested,” I say it with just as much assertion.

  Noah blows out a quick breath.
“Lottie, if her story pans out, there’s nothing to arrest her for.”

  “Newsflash, Detective.” I press my hands over his chest to act as a barrier between us. “Her story won’t pan out. And if you know what side your proverbial bread is buttered on, you won’t rest until she’s in handcuffs.”

  His dimples press in deep as a smile twitches on his lips. “Consider it as good as done. I’m on it.” He looks to Everett. “Why don’t you take Lottie home and get her to bed? I’m going to make sure not to leave a single stone unturned.”

  Everett’s lids hood low, the barely-there trace of a wicked grin flickering on his lips.

  “You heard the man, Lemon. Let’s get to bed.”

  Everett leads me out into the frigid weather as he navigates me to the safety of his car.

  “We’re going home,” he says. “Next stop—Honey Hollow.”

  I’m so happy, I cry all the way there.

  Chapter 7

  Confession: I did sleep until noon the very next day. But to my defense, I had two warm, purring, adorably fluffy pillows on either side of me. Both Pancake and Waffles acted as if they hadn’t seen me in years and, truth be told, I acted the very same way as soon as I scooped them into my arms.

  But once I managed to rouse myself from the dead, ingest enough coffee to energize an entire squad of cheerleaders, and took a long, hot shower, I felt better than ever and far more anxious to head down to my bakery than ever before.

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is just as much my family as my sweet cats. How I love the butter-colored walls and the mix and match pastel furniture. There’s a walkway between the Honey Pot Diner next door and the bakery, due to the fact they were both my grandma Nell’s at one point. And I’m glad about it, too, seeing that my very best friend in the whole wide world, Keelie Nell Turner, is the manager there.

  Next door, in the Honey Pot Diner, there’s a giant resin oak tree smack in the middle of the restaurant, and its branches extend over the ceiling and bleed right into the café portion of my bakery. Each branch is lovingly woven with twinkle lights, and it gives off a magical appeal.

  Margo and Mannford, the chefs from the Honey Pot, have been kind enough to do the heavy lifting as far as the baking goes. It’s usually just me in the mornings, and I relish those early hours when I’m left alone to my own devices and a mixing bowl.

  “Lottie Lemon!” Keelie squeals as both she and Lily head this way.

  Keelie wraps her arms around me so tight, I can hardly catch a breath. And I can feel that hard bump beginning to grow in her tummy. She and Bear are expecting a baby this summer.

  She pulls back with tears in her eyes, a laugh in her throat. “So Everett found you?”

  I glance over to the handsome judge. Everett let me know he cleared his schedule all week when he gave me a ride to the bakery just now. He said he’d give me a ride back home, too. I’m guessing he’s being overly cautious, but I appreciate the sentiment.

  “He sure did. Serena Digby kidnapped me, and both Everett and Noah busted that door down.”

  Lily wrinkles her nose. “That’s not what I heard. Rumor has it, you were locked in the bathroom while poor Serena was in a car wreck.”

  I suck in a quick breath as I look to Everett. “Are you starting rumors?”

  “No.” He holds his hands up as if this was a stickup. “I was just relaying the facts.”

  I suck in another quick breath and try my best to swat him with the dishtowel on the counter.

  “Everett”—I hiss his name out like a reprimand—“I was held against my will by a crazed lunatic. As soon as Noah finds evidence of her dirty cookie dealings, you’ll be sorry you ever gave her the benefit of the doubt.”

  Lily grunts, “He’s a judge, Lottie. He deals in facts and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. Besides, I do believe you. Seven says that woman was one sandwich short of a picnic.”

  “Thank you,” I say, trying my hardest not to scowl at Everett.

  The door bursts open, and an arctic blast fills the bakery along with a few stray snowflakes. It was a virtual whiteout on the way over. Another reason I was glad Everett offered to do the driving.

  And along with those few stray snowflakes Carlotta and Mayor Nash speed over, still warming their arms with their hands.

  Carlotta gives me a look that typically spells out trouble. But in this case, I’m guessing it spells out relief.

  “Get over here, Lot Lot.” She pulls me into a quasi-violent hug. Carlotta is my twin in every way, same wavy caramel brown hair, same hazel eyes. She’s my birth mother, the very one that thought it was a good idea to abandon me on the floor of the Honey Hollow Fire Department over a quarter of a century ago, and thanks to that, I was discovered by the kindest fireman of them all, the man who would become my adoptive father, Joseph Lemon. He and his wife, Miranda, gave me a loving, stable home and two adorable, yet quirky, sisters as well.

  Mayor Nash holds open his arms. “My turn, Lottie Dottie.” His voice is raspy but cheerful and I give him a quick embrace. About a year ago, I discovered that Mayor Nash was my biological father—and along with him I gained two half-sisters and a half-brother, too. Oddly enough, he and Carlotta have been dating these past few months, so it’s not unusual that I see these two in tandem.

  He gives my arms a hearty squeeze. “You look great, kid. I hear they had the SWAT team out with guns drawn and everything. You get your bravery from me, you know.”

  I shoot a sideways glance to Everett. Okay, so I might have been quick to correct one false rumor and not the other, but I blame it on losing a good night’s sleep.

  The door bounces open once again, and along with another arctic blast come my mother and Noah’s oddball of a father, Wiley Fox.

  “My baby!” Mom screams it at the top of her lungs as she wraps herself around me. Her chest convulses as if she were lost in sobs or laughing—or deliriously doing both. “What did they do to you?” She pulls back and shakes me. Miranda Lemon is a pretty blonde with shoulder-length hair, crystal blue eyes, and skin that somehow forgot to age. “Did you go to the hospital and get a thorough checkup?” She checks my forehead for a fever. “Oh, Lottie, you should really be home on bed rest.”

  “I’m fine. I promise.”

  Wiley winks my way and looks suspiciously like his oldest son in the process. Same dark hair, same deep-welled dimples, same stunning green eyes—although that’s where the similarities end. Up until last month everyone thought Wiley was dead as a doornail. And honest to God, I wish he would have stayed that way, seeing that he has a penchant for bilking widows out of their nest egg. He was once married to Everett’s mother and did just that. And now my own poor mother is up on the Wiley Fox chopping block.

  “You’re looking good, kid.” Wiley shakes his head. “Heard my boys rescued you. Gotta say, I raised ’em right.” He slaps a hand over Everett’s shoulder—and Everett eyes it as if he were considering doing an impromptu amputation. Suffice it to say, Everett isn’t Wiley’s biggest fan.

  Before I can thank him, or tell him off, my sisters, Lainey and Meg, spring out from seemingly nowhere.

  Lainey comes at me with large watery eyes. We share the same caramel hair and hazel eyes. I so wanted to believe that I was her full-blood sister. Clearly, Meg was the adopted one, but that’s not the hand fate dealt me—and now that I’m older, I’m glad about it, too.

  Lainey is bundled up for the extreme weather outside, but I can still distinctly make out her baby bump. She just so happens to be the head librarian at the Honey Hollow Library. And both she and Keelie are due just a couple of weeks apart.

  “Don’t you ever give me a scare like that again!” Lainey riots right at me as she pulls me in for a rather aggressive hug. “I’ve been worried sick, I couldn’t sleep, and I ate an entire large pizza from Mangias all by my lonesome yesterday. I didn’t go to work. I couldn’t even think, let alone file away books.”

  “Lainey,” I moan as I pull back to inspect her. “My he
art wrenches just hearing that I brought pain to so many people. This is all that wicked Serena Digby’s fault. I hope she rots in prison for the rest of her natural and supernatural life.”

  Meg chuckles as she pulls me in for a quick hug. Meg has dyed her blonde locks black, and it’s a stunning look paired with her icy blue eyes. She used to be a big deal on the female wrestling circuit out in Las Vegas, but she’s back in Honey Hollow, teaching the strippers down in Leeds their provocative night moves.

  “Come on, Lot”—Meg offers up a firm pat to my back—“we all know you were bested by a rusty toilet. Ain’t that right, Judge Baxter?”

  “It was a doorknob,” I’m quick to correct as I shoot another side-eye to the esteemed judge among us. “And no, it wasn’t that either. I was kidnapped. It was treachery.”

  Lainey shudders. “Did she hold you at gunpoint to get you into the car?”

  I reflect back on it for a minute. “Well, no.”

  Carlotta huffs, “I bet she snatched your phone away. That’s why you couldn’t call for help.”

  I wince. “Actually, my battery died before we hit the highway.” I leave out the tiny detail about sleeping over at Noah’s the night before and not remembering to charge it.

  Mom scoffs her way to my side. “All of this hullabaloo because of your birthday.”

  “My birthday?” I shake my head, mildly confused. “My birthday isn’t for another couple of weeks.”

  Both Meg and Lainey make crazy eyes at one another before stealing a glance at Everett.

  Lainey forces a smile to come and go. “I was just talking to Mom about it.” She smacks our mother on the arm. “Isn’t that right, Mom? You said you wanted to have a huge to-do at the B&B, and I said Lottie wouldn’t want that.”

  “Darn right I don’t.” I’ve never been one to make a big deal out of my birthday. I just hate for anyone to fuss over me.

  Meg nods. “And that’s why we decided to have a quiet dinner for you at Lainey’s place.”

  Lainey shrugs. “That’s the plan. But, like it or not, Lot—you’ll have to bake your own cake.”

 

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