Devil's Food Cake Doom

by Addison Moore

  I glance to Everett. “Let me guess. Someone you once sent up the river? Or better yet, another member of the Essex Fan Club? I happen to be inaugurated into the Call Essex by His First Name Club, where your entry totally depends on the giving up of your body to the good judge. But I really do prefer to call him Everett. And I think he prefers it that way, too.

  “Hey ho!” The woman pops up, revealing herself to be none other than my sister.

  “Meg!” I offer her a hearty embrace before pulling back. “You’ve reprised Madge the Badge.” Madge the Badge is my sister’s old wrestling persona from her stint in the Las Vegas wrestling circuit. “I guess I didn’t put the pieces together because I didn’t think you actually danced at this place. Did you make the leap from instructor to stage maven?”

  Please God, let the answer be no. It’s bad enough she’s stuck working in this environment all day long.

  “Nope. This just happens to be my favorite routine, so I thought I’d join the girls. You know, add an air of credibility to the whole number. And fun fact, it’s the only number in the entire show where no one loses a thread of clothing.” She shrugs over at Everett. “Sorry, big guy.”

  “Not to worry.” Everett does a quick scan of the facility. “I’m a happily married man.”

  My stomach sours when he says the word happily. He can’t be happy that his wife is spending all her nights with Noah.

  Meg swats me on the arm. “So what are you wasting time here for when you have a perfectly good man to take home? Why don’t you head back to Honey Hollow and watch him wield his gavel?”

  I bite down over my lip.

  Face it, it’s an enticing proposition.

  I shrug. “I’m here to see Jimmy Canelli.”

  Meg gasps and swats me all at the same time. “Would you keep it down? Everyone knows this entire floor is rife with cops and robbers all looking to spot one of those unicorns in the wild that you just dared to name.”

  My gaze flits to the back exit that leads to a labyrinth of underground casinos and back room dealings I don’t even want to know about.

  “I’ve got a meeting.”

  Meg gasps again. By and large it takes a lot to surprise my sister, so the fact she’s gasped twice in the last ten seconds is enough to ring an additional bell of alarm. I know Everett is right. Flirting with any crime family, Canelli or Lazzari, is dangerous. Flirting with two at the very same time, well, that just might prove lethal.

  She leans in and practically adheres her lips to mine. “His office sits in the back of the Jungle Room.”

  I roll my eyes at the thought. Why does this not surprise me?

  I tell Everett and he leads the way down through the murky tangle of bodies and lands us at the entry to the Jungle Room in no time. It’s even darker down here, and the music filtering through the speakers is the same as it was upstairs.

  “Hey”—I marvel—“it’s almost as if you could find your way here with your eyes closed.”

  His lips twitch. “Who said my eyes were opened?”

  I offer him a playful sock on the arm. “Come on. We’re going all the way.”

  He gives a wistful shake of the head. “If I had a dime for every time I heard those words while I was down here.”

  “As your wife, I do not even want to know.”

  We make our way past a woman with bright pink hair once I let her know who I’m here to see and she checks it out by way of her phone. It’s kind of nice to have this sort of VIP clearance, but then again, it’s sort of like having an escorted tour of hell.

  The Jungle Room itself is a twisted club of the carnal variety where couples can come to enjoy themed rooms that mostly resemble torture chambers.

  Everett and I were here ourselves once or twice while spying on suspects in previous murder cases. Thankfully, we won’t have to enter a single one of these miniature dens of depravity. Honestly, I don’t know who in their right mind utilizes them. It’s definitely not a first date pit stop. Unless you find that a riding crop acts as a good icebreaker.

  The door to one of the rooms flies open and out steps a giggling couple, and my heart stops cold as I spot an all too familiar face.

  “Noah Corbin Fox!” I swat away at his chest without relenting. “What floozy did you dare haul down here?” I push him out of the way, fully expecting to see Cormack, but instead, I find— “Mom?” I gag and gasp as I struggle to find my way back into the comfort of Everett’s arms.

  “Hello, Lottie. Judge Baxter.” She makes a face as she pulls Noah’s doppelgänger father, Wiley, in close to her. “I see the two of you are here to have a good time.” She gives a sly wink as her cheeks flush a neon pink.

  “Mother, what are you doing down here?” Never mind. We both know it’s not the first time she’s visited. Suffice it to say, my mother has had a long line of smarmy boyfriends since the passing of my poor, innocent father.

  Mom grimaces as she steps in close. “The feds shut down the B&B—and we’re temporarily closed to new boarders. It seems someone reported me for not having a liquor license.” She glowers over at Everett. “Have a good night, you two.” They hightail it out of there, giggling along like a couple of goofy high school kids.

  “Everett? Why did my mother look at you like that when she said someone reported the B&B?”

  “Because I did it. She probably saw my name at the bottom of the complaint.”

  My mouth falls open as I take him in. “Have I told you lately how brilliant I think you are?”

  He shrugs. “It didn’t work. She’s still holding onto Wiley like he’s some kind of life raft. I’m telling you, Lemon, we can’t turn our backs on him or he’ll pilfer your mother the same way he did mine.”

  Yup. True as God. Way back when, Wiley was married to Eliza Baxter and he stole a whole bundle of money from her—most of which resurrected itself in the form of my bakery, but that’s another story altogether.

  We hit the end of the hall, and a man clad in black leads us to a room with large mahogany doors.

  Inside sits Jimmy Cannelli with that gray cap of hair, smoking a fat stogie as he stretches his legs over his desk.

  He springs to his feet. “Carlotta Lemon. Judge Baxter.” He bows toward us. “Please, take a seat.”

  I’m only mildly alarmed that Jimmy knew right away who Everett was. But then, Everett is a powerful judge and I’m sure every crime family in Vermont knows all about his infamous wrath. Let’s just say it’s landed him in hot water a time or two.

  “I hear you have news,” I say as we take a seat.

  Everett grunts, “Let’s make this quick.”

  Jimmy Canelli’s head twitches to the side and the light casts a shadow over the prominent cleft in his chin.

  He leans forward. “You got somewhere you need to be, Judge Baxter?”

  “Yes.” Everett doesn’t miss a beat. “We’re having dinner with guests. We’ll be discussing the recent homicide that took place. And I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”

  “I see.” Jimmy opens a box full of cigars toward Everett, and Everett politely declines with a wave of his hand. Funny how I wasn’t offered one of those carcinogen sticks. Boy, it’s a man’s world and I’m just living in it.

  My blood begins to boil, and suddenly I want out of here twice as bad as Everett does.

  “So what about my cookie stalker? Did you find evidence that pins this on that witch, Serena Digby?”

  He tips his head to the side as if he wasn’t sure. “My men have been following her regularly. Interestingly enough, she only stays at that hovel of a hotel now and again—she got another room. She splits her time between there and some place out in Hollyhock.”

  “Hollyhock?” I glance to Everett, unsure of what this might mean. “Is she renting a place out there? Is it another motel?” I address the last two questions back to Jimmy.

  He shakes his head. “We don’t know. I’ll have my men dig and see who owns the property.” He pulls a few eight-by-ten black and white
pictures from his desk drawer and shucks them across the table at us.

  Everett pulls them forward and we examine Serena moving in and out of a two-story house with a large wrought iron fence out front with what looks to be a statue of a cherub to the left and the last three digits of an address, four, two, one.

  “Okay.” Everett slides the images back his way. “And so what?”

  Jimmy chuckles to himself. “I like you. You’re a man of few words and you want to drive straight to the point.” He looks to me, stony-faced, and it sends a chill up my spine. “We’re close to giving you the information you’re looking for, Carlotta. And in return—”

  Everett slaps his hand over the table. “Knew it.” He turns my way. “He’s going to want your soul in return, Lemon. Don’t give it to him.”

  Jimmy barks out a laugh. “I was going to say, in return my men get a nice steak dinner paid for by the Lazzaris.”

  I nod. “And I’ll bake you one of my famous devil’s food cakes as a thank you.”

  Jimmy stretches a smile across his face. “I look forward to it.”

  “Is that it?” Everett takes a breath and straightens as if he’s ready to go.

  Jimmy tosses up his hands. “That’s it.” He squints over at the two of us. “So you’re off to discuss Tim Troy’s untimely demise.”

  I’m quick to nod. “Noah and Nelson Gilmore are probably already knee-deep in it. I’ve talked to both his ex-wife and his ex-girlfriend, and the two of them had motive enough to do it.”

  Jimmy belts out a dark laugh. “The women closest to you always seem to have a very good reason.” He winks to Everett. “Ain’t that right, Judge Baxter?”

  Everett just glowers over at him and doesn’t dignify it with a response.

  Jimmy snaps his fingers several times as he leans forward. “Which reminds me about something. I don’t like that Gilmore guy.” His features turn to stone once again and he stares off in the distance as if he were fit to kill. “He landed one of my cousins behind bars not too long ago. Like he’s so innocent. He owns that building out in Fallbrook, the hot pink one at the end of town across from all the strip malls.”

  Everett sits up. “I know exactly the one. It has a florist and a few other businesses running out of it.”

  Jimmy points a finger his way. “That’s the one.”

  Everett was born and raised in Fallbrook, so it doesn’t surprise me he knew exactly what Jimmy was talking about.

  We wrap it up and Jimmy assures me he’ll have more news soon. He wants his steak dinner.

  Everett and I weave our way out of the dicey nightclub and back into the snowy street. Out of nowhere Everett pulls me in close and offers up a quick embrace.

  “What was that for?” I pull back and examine this handsome man.

  “Just because.”

  “Just because? I think I like that more than anything.”

  We head back to Honey Hollow, and all the way there I try to figure out a way to find that house in Hollyhock. I bet it has a kitchen covered in black frosting.

  In fact, I know it does.

  Chapter 19

  Mangias Italian Restaurant sits almost directly across the street from my own shop, the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery. It also happens to be the place that Noah and I seem to frequent more often than not. Inside, the thick scent of garlic bread and pizza, along with the dark floors and walls, all seem to give you a hug as soon as you walk through the door.

  Everett and I spot Noah and Nelson seated near the window with their heads knit as they speak intensely about something.

  Nelson looks our way as we come upon them and his face brightens. He’s a larger man with a double chin and thinning hairline but has an all-around friendly teddy bear vibe about him.

  Noah follows his gaze and jumps to his feet once he spots us.

  He wraps his arms around me and lands a sweet kiss to my lips.

  “Lottie,” he says it dark and heated right into my ear. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I nod, assuring him of just that.

  “Good. Thank God,” he whispers.

  Everett and I join them just as a giant pepperoni pizza is delivered and we quickly partake.

  Noah moans through a bite. “So good,” he says as he washes it down with his drink. “You know, I was just catching up with Nelson here, and I can’t believe it took us this long to get to know one another.” He looks to Everett and me. “This guy is a legend in the PI world.” He leans toward Nelson. “Aren’t you teaching classes?”

  “I was.” Nelson chuckles. “But I’m slowing down. I’ve got a brother who’s ready to take over the business for me. I’d like to retire, spend my days with my lady friend, and maybe get into gardening or something.” He pats his stomach. “Lord knows I need to lose a few pounds if I plan on sticking around for the long haul.”

  Everett shrugs. “Gardening is a whole world away from the exciting life of fighting crime. I bet you’ll hop right out of retirement as soon as you step in.”

  Nelson belts out a cheery laugh. “You’re probably right. But I’ll be sure to give it the old college try.”

  I offer him a peaceable smile. “Who’s your lady friend?” I happened to hear it from a brunette little birdie this evening, named Sloan, that his girlfriend is Leslie. Funny how she didn’t mention it when we spoke. But then, that Irish meal did bewitch my good senses.

  Nelson hems and haws, and his face seems to be running through every shade of plum.

  “We’re not serious,” he’s quick to correct. “In fact, there is no lady friend per se. I’m keeping my options open for now.” He gives a lazy wink.

  A riotous bark emits from behind and I turn to find a tall and stately looking Doberman Pinscher rioting up a storm as he barrels this way. Rex glides over a few tables before backtracking.

  “Sorry.” He hiccups or belches, or some strange combination of both. “Carlotta was making the most delicious frozen concoction with your ice cream maker.”

  I do have a state-of-the-art ice cream maker that my mother bought me last year for my birthday. Leave it to Carlotta to defile it.

  Rex stands on his hind legs and leans his front paws onto the table as he takes a look at the offerings, and I can’t help but note the distinct scent of tequila emanating from him.

  Tequila? Isn’t that the chief ingredient in one of Carlotta’s favorite frozen concoctions? GAH! She’s using my precious, innocent, ice cream maker to whip up a frozen feast for her lush puppy friends.

  Noah dives right into another conversation with Nelson, something to do with smart locks and the advance way burglars are using to penetrate them, so I covertly pick up Everett’s hand under the table in case Rex feels the need to speak.

  Rex heads over to Nelson and growls and sniffs. “Is this the killer, Lottie? He looks delicious. I can’t wait to sink my fangs into him.”

  Everett’s chest bounces with a laugh as I shake my head at Rex.

  “Pity.” Rex sits down and stunningly still looks about as tall as I do. “I recognize him from the crime symposium.” He tips his head to the side and looks adorable in the process. “He was doing just what you and your friend are doing now.”

  “What’s that?” I whisper over to Everett in the event Noah and Nelson wonder who I’m speaking to.

  Rex sniffs the air. “Holding hands in a clandestine manner.”

  My mouth falls open as I look to Everett. “With who?” I ask and both Noah and Nelson slow their conversation down a moment before firing it right back up again.

  “That woman,” Rex growls. “The one that snuck away to share a few steamy kisses with my Tim.”

  Everett mouths Leslie’s name and I give a knowing nod.

  Knew it. Nelson is hiding his relationship with her. But why? I guess it’s obvious. Things are messy right now. There’s a killer out there—most likely Perry. Maybe they’re waiting for the police to make an arrest? Maybe he doesn’t want to be next on Perry’s kill list? Not that I think he wou
ld be.

  There’s a lull in the conversation and Everett leans in and looks at Nelson. “How are things going with the building out in Fallbrook?”

  Nelson’s lips part and he has a deer in the headlights look on his face as if he’s never heard of Fallbrook in general.

  “I’m not involved in that anymore.” He shakes it off as if it were no big deal. “It’s been years.”

  Noah rests his elbows on the table. “So, what are your thoughts on the case? Weeks have moved on and I’ve yet to make an arrest. Help a guy out, would you?”

  Nelson shakes his head. “Wish I could gift you the killer on a silver platter. What do you have so far?”

  Noah swills the ice in his glass. “Just what we already covered. We know for certain that caffeine in powder form is what was used to poison Tim that night.”

  Nelson lifts a finger. “Poison us all.”

  Noah squints. “I don’t know. I still think it was personal. And I think it was aimed at Tim.”

  Nelson nods. “I fully agree. And you know who has access to powdered caffeine?”

  Noah’s chest expands. “Perry. I know.” He looks my way. “Caffeine is heavily used by the bodybuilding community.”

  “Oh,” I say. “And Perry and Tim had a gym together.” I nod as it all makes sense.

  Nelson sighs. “I guess we’ve got all the pieces. It’s just a matter of making them fit.”

  “We will,” Noah assures him.

  Everett tips his head my way. “I know she will.”

  Rex howls as if he could see a full moon. “The killer’s time is nigh. I’ll attest to this myself, Lottie Lemon. I can feel it.”

  Oddly enough, I can, too.

  We wrap it up and head back out onto Main Street.

  Noah gives Nelson’s hand a quick shake. “It was great speaking with you. I’ll let you know if we come up with anything.”

  Nelson nods our way. “And I’ll see you all Saturday.”

  “Saturday?” Everett manufactures a short-lived smile with the question.

  Nelson tips his head. “In Ashford, the sheriff’s ball.”