“Perfect! Hey, Autumn? You knew Hannah. Who do you think could have done something like this to her?” The man in the fedora is my prime suspect, but he’s more of a ghost in this equation than the actual poltergeist who is supposed to be helping me solve this crime. Not that I’ve seen him. He’s probably eating his way through Honey Hollow. The ghosts haven’t always been able to eat. Their abilities seem to grow with my own. I suppose that makes sense because they’re coming here specifically assigned to help yours truly.
Autumn pulls her dark coat tightly around her body. “Honestly, Maizy is someone I’d have a serious talk with about this whole nightmare. It’s not a secret things weren’t so hunky-dory in their little bootyful paradise. There was most certainly dissension in the ranks.”
“Oh wow.” I glance to Noah. “Actually, I do need to talk to Maizy.” My shoulders hike as I look to Autumn. “Half of Hannah’s fitness class showed up on her doorstep bright and early this morning. I guess they didn’t hear the news. I thought I should reach out to Maizy about contacting all of their clients. Any idea where I can find her?”
“Oh yes”—she’s quick to answer—“she’s the entertainment down at the Slammer Jammer.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. “Your cake and coffee are on me.”
“Wow, thank you, ” she says as she takes off to collect her goodies.
Everett lifts his head my way. “The Slammer Jammer is a roadhouse bar in Leeds. It sits just outside of the—”
“Men’s correctional facility.” Noah nods my way. “There’s no way you’re going there, Lottie.”
“Have you met her?” Everett counters.
I nod. “I’ll call and see if Maizy is entertaining anyone tonight. And if she is, would you both care to accompany me to the Slammer Jammer?”
“I’m in,” Noah says without hesitating. “And I’ll bring the heat.” His elbow taps the gun sitting beneath his jacket.
“I’m in.” Everett glowers a moment. “Something tells me I’m going to see a few old friends there tonight.”
I bite down on a smile. “And hopefully, my new friend Maizy will sing like a bird in more ways than one.”
Chapter 5
The Slammer Jammer is indeed located in Leeds, that smarmy town just below Honey Hollow.
I’ve been to Leeds before, many, many times, and each time I come here, I’m tempting to tote along that Glock handgun Everett and Noah gifted me a while back in order to protect me from certain elements. Let’s just say certain elements love to congregate in this dicey town. And if ever there were a concentration of all that is naughty in this world, Leeds would be the front-runner in that department. It’s dank, dark, polluted, and perverted. Have I mentioned it’s Carlotta’s go-to locale for fun and pleasure? Not a shocker, I know.
The Slammer Jammer has a rustic appeal, comprised mostly of soot-stained bricks and an oval entry that holds a neon sign boasting its sing-songy name right above it.
It’s just Everett and me who made the trek out here tonight. Noah is still at the office but said he’d meet up with us as soon as he could.
“I guess this is our official date night.” I give Everett’s a hand a quick tug before we head on in.
Even though we’re basically entering into a felon-riddled fun zone, I can’t help but get a smidge giddy with excitement. Who could blame me? I’ve got Essex Everett Baxter by my side, and I’m not afraid to flaunt him—even if it is to a bunch of ex-cons.
Everett ditched the suit for this venue and donned a pair of jeans with a black wool coat, and boy, does it ever bring out the come hither in his eyes—and mine. Everett’s brand of masculinity is cutting to the bone. It’s no surprise to me that the female masses congregate around him wherever we go. It’s no surprise to me that they call him Essex either. I’m not thrilled about it, but at this point it’s to be expected.
He inches his head back with a look of dismay.
“Lemon, we will have a date night soon enough, and I guarantee you this is not it. Not in my wildest dreams would I take you here under any circumstances, with the exception of this one. And that’s only because I know there’s no stopping you.”
“You know me well.” I give a little shrug. He opens the door like the perfect gentleman he is and it’s surprisingly light and bright inside. There are wooden floors, small round tables strewn around the periphery, a stage where surprisingly we find Maizy Burton crooning into the microphone an upbeat country song that has my shoulders moving and hips grooving. And there are enough people doing just that in the middle of the establishment that a part of me can’t wait to get out there myself. Who knew chasing down a suspect would prove to be a good time?
To the left sits the bar with a couple of grinning bartenders tending to the scantily clad masses. And I’m betting those bartenders are grinning because they’re able to extract large tips from the inebriated patrons. The men-to-women ratio seems to be about equal, and the scent of everything deep-fried enlivens my senses.
“Ooh.” I cinch Everett in close. “I don’t know what smells like I died and went to deep-fried heaven, but I want a triple portion—with a side of hot sauce and ranch dressing to go along with it.”
“Your culinary wish is my command. Let’s get our food game on.”
No sooner do the words leave Everett’s mouth than a tall brunette wearing short shorts and a red sequin tank top saunters our way with a couple of menus, and a couple of knockers rippling for our attention, too. I’ve got to give it to Everett for keeping his eyes above her chin line.
“Table for two?” Her eyes expand with unmitigated glee as she takes in the handsome judge.
“Three,” I tell her. “We’re expecting one more.”
But she’s not paying attention to me or my request to procure Noah a seat. Her eyes are glued on my handsome hubby, and soon her mouth is contorting in surprise.
“Judge Baxter?” she squeals with delight. “Well, cook my goose! I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Personally, I’m shocked Everett hasn’t already cooked her goose. But seeing that she didn’t refer to him as Essex lets me know she’s still raw and unadulterated, at least by my husband.
“Ah, yes.” Everett tips his head back as if seeing her in a whole new light. “I see you’re taking my words to heart when I said I didn’t want to see you in my courtroom again.”
She breaks out into a wild cackle. “You can bet your naughty little knickers I did. I did my time, and I’m not dating that scumbag that roped me into trouble anymore. Felonies might be fun, but freedom is funner. I’ve cleaned up my act and here I am doing honest work.” She motions to her barely-there accouterments. Not quite the epitome of honest work, but hey, if it keeps her a free woman, who the heck cares? She’s making some honest green.
“Well, come on, you two.” She navigates us to a table near the window. “Best seat in the house for the best looking judge in Ashford County. Can I get any appetizers going for you? Bacon wrapped onion rings? Artichoke dip? Potato skins with bacon, sour cream, and cheddar cheese?”
“Yes, please”—I’m quick to tell her—“all three. Oh, and do you have any deep-fried pickles?”
Her lips twist as she looks to the ceiling. “No, but we have deep-fried butter. It’s something new the chef is trying.”
“Butter?” Every last butter-loving cell in my body sits at attention at the thought of the freaky fried treat. “Bring it all. In fact, make the fried butter heaven a double order. Why, you were practically holding out on me.”
A laugh strums from her. “Honey, when you’ve got this man on your arm, you’re already in deep-fried butter heaven. I’ll put this in and I’ll be right back to take your order.”
Everett’s chest bounces with a silent chuckle as she takes off.
“I’ve got to give it to you, Lemon, your appetite is something to be admired. But don’t worry. I’ll be indulging right there with you.”
“As you should. You just may be the one responsible for
giving me this appetite, and that’s exactly why I’m indulging in deep-fried everything.” I give him a quick wink. “But don’t you worry. I plan on having a big slice of Judge Baxter pie for dessert.” And then I remember exactly where we’re living and cringe. “Yikes. I sort of forgot we’re staying at Noah’s. In Noah’s bed to be exact.”
“He’d slaughter me in my sleep if I turned his mattress into a fun zone.”
I nod. “That’s a surefire way of getting the homicide detective to go homicidal. Believe me, he wouldn’t be a fan of mine either.”
His lips curl. “Lemon, he would be a fan of yours if you burned his house down.”
“I burned your house down,” I tease. “Are you still a fan of mine?”
“Cupcake, there’s not a thing you could do to chase me out of your life.” Everett’s lids hood and not for the right reasons. “Too bad the lodge is so far away.”
“Ooh. “ I waggle my brows. “If it wasn’t the start of the busiest time of year for the bakery, I would have insisted we disappear on the weekends. Evie would love it, too.”
Last year Noah wanted to buy a winter lodge up in Hollyhock, but he had an unfortunate medical event. And while he was indisposed, Everett and I stepped in and bought it for him. And now, well, Noah has bought his way in it, too, and the three of us are the happy owners of the Maple Meadows Lodge. It’s a huge chalet that overlooks a lake. It’s stunning in every way, and right about now, it’s tempting in every way, too.
Everett nods as if reading my mind. “And your mother was right. The Evergreen Manor is booked solid. I tried to get Naomi to give us a room, but she said she couldn’t do it until January.”
Naomi Turner just so happens to be Keelie’s twin sister, and as fate and my Sawyer genetics would have it, she’s my cousin, too.
“Mentioning Naomi makes me miss Keelie,” I say. “No sooner did she come back to the Honey Pot after her maternity leave than baby Bear got his first cold and she went right back home.”
“Maybe you should take her to lunch one day? I’m sure she’d love to see you and get out of the house. Now that she has two bears on her hands, I’d imagine life is a bit of a circus.”
“Maybe I will invite her out to lunch,” I say. “I’ll invite Lainey to come along, too. She’s been an emotional mess ever since she had to get back to work herself.” My sister, Lainey, had a baby girl the same day Keelie did, on Noah’s birthday last August to be exact. She is the head librarian at the Honey Hollow Public Library and has dreaded going back to work after her maternity leave wrapped up. “Did you know that ever since Lainey’s maternity leave ended, she’s been bringing baby Josie to the library with her? She keeps her in a papoose strapped to her chest like a tiny little baby bomb. She’s got Forest’s mother hanging around the library all day, too—fake babysitting. At least she can catch up on her reading. I’m not sure going back to work was a good idea for Lainey, or the baby.”
Everett’s brows lift a notch. “What do you think you’re going to do when the time comes?”
“I’m going to…” My mouth stays open an inordinate amount of time. “I guess the bakery is sort of my baby, too. Maybe I’ll pull a Lainey and wear the baby to work like an accessory?” I make a face. “Oh, Everett, I have no idea what I’m going to do. I don’t even have a room for the baby. It burned to the ground a week ago.” Tears flood my vision, and Everett is quick to scoot his seat over and wrap an arm around my shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got it all under control. Don’t worry about a thing. And if you want to stay home full-time, we’ll hire the best staff in the world to run the bakery. I’ll make sure you have whatever resources you need at your disposal. And if you wanted to hire a nanny or an au pair, I’d help you vet the best of the best. And it would be on me. You’re my wife, Lemon. I love you so much it hurts. We’re in this together for the long haul.”
My lips press tightly and I nod. “Thank you, Everett. You have no idea how much your words mean to me. I know everything will work out, especially now that you’re by my side. Your words, you, Everett, bring me great comfort.”
The waitress comes back and lands a bounty of deep-fried dishes at our table, and along with it about six different women trot over and begin to paw away at Judge Baxter while filling him in on their new perfectly legal, albeit lusty lives.
A woman with caramel-colored hair belts out a maniacal laugh from the bar, and I glance that way before doing a double take.
There she is, the exact woman I was hoping I wouldn’t see here tonight.
“Excuse me,” I say as I speed that way before Everett can protest. Not that he could even see me anymore with that gaggle of girls ensconcing him from every side.
“Carlotta?” I hiss in horror as I come upon my older look-alike who happens to be sloshing a beer in one hand and juggling pretzels in the other. Right next to her is a tall man built just as sturdy as this brick building, wearing an all too familiar red muscle tee, and he just so happens to be dead as a doornail.
“Lot Lot?” The smile quickly dissipates from Carlotta’s face as she leans my way. “Are you following me?” she snips as if it were a hostile offense.
“Ha!” I laugh at the thought. “I think we know who’s following who. What were you thinking coming here? This place is seedy. It’s brimming with former inmates of every correctional facility from sea to shining sea. And look at you, inebriating yourself at the bar. Are you out of your mind? And you”—I look to the poltergeist among us—“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, too.”
Carlotta narrows her peepers at me. “If your nosy nose must know, I’m here to meet up with a hot date. A man I met on an app called Senior Hustle named Lefty. He’s going away soon for insider trading. They’re going to lock him up for a very long time, and I plan on giving him a proper sendoff.”
About three different people pause to applaud her efforts, and my mouth falls open at the lunacy.
“Never mind all of that.” I look to the ghost who keeps helping himself to Carlotta’s beer by way of a straw. “I believe you’ve got a friend I’d like to be introduced to.”
Carlotta gives his hand a yank, and he floats over until he’s standing in front of me.
He’s a good-looking guy, dark hair, dark smile. His neck is so thick it looks as if he could lift this building on his strength alone and his eyes shine a supernatural shade of amber. He has a broad forehead and pointed nose, his lips are the same reddish tan shade as his skin, and I marvel at the fact I can still see his veins bulging all over his arms like green slithery serpents that sit under his flesh.
“Lottie Lemon. Pleased to meet you.” I hold out a hand and he shakes it, feeling every bit as real as Carlotta herself.
“Barry Honeycutt.” His voice is as warm and deep as his smile. “Carlotta here tells me Hannah Beckham has been offed.” He glances to the ceiling. “Not that I’m all too surprised. She was a pretty polarizing individual. Not everyone sees fitness the way she did. I should know, I’m the one that got her into the deal. Some say it’s a craze, I say it’s a lifestyle. Although it just so happened to be the lifestyle that got me killed as well.” He taps his neck. “I was bench pressing and the bar rolled in the wrong direction. Crushed my pharynx. I passed out, and the next thing I knew I was flying off to paradise.” He shrugs. “It’s actually not a bad deal. I thought I’d hate it, but it’s basically life supercharged. There’s no night up there, so everything’s open all day. I run a conditioning course for the souls who still feel the need for a little supernatural speed. It’s a good gig. But I guess I’m here now to help bring down Hannah’s killer. And no thanks to your abilities, it’s been nothing but a buffet ever since. I’ll have to thank Hannah for choosing November to bite the big one. The food this time of year is phenomenal.”
“Well, she didn’t come by it naturally. She was murdered,” I point out. “Which brings me to this seedy bar. I’m here to question a suspect. See that singer on stage? You wouldn’t happen to rec
ognize her, would you?”
He gives a deliberate nod without looking over. “Maizy Burton. Met her about a month before that rogue workout sent me to the other side. Hannah and I had just called it quits, and I was thinking about asking Maizy out on a date.”
“Sorry to hear it.”
“Don’t be.” He glances over at the stage and shrugs. “I’m seeing a woman who used to joust in the original Olympics—Greece circa 776 B.C. It turns out, she’s my soulmate after all.”
“Wow,” I marvel. “I guess there was no way you could have met her during your stay on Earth.”
“Nope.” He laughs at the thought. “I guess you could say our timing was way off. And that’s actually true for those people who never seem to meet the right person. Their timing is off by a century or two. As it stands, every person has a soulmate.”
Carlotta nods. “Lot Lot’s got two, and they’re both here at the very same time. You should have seen them in the bedroom last night.”
I close my eyes a moment because I can’t quite refute it.
He cringes. “I can only surmise that’s causing a problem or two. But don’t worry. I’ve heard good things from others who have experienced similar circumstances. And don’t forget, there’s always a reason for everything.”
A reason for having both Everett and Noah in my life? In my heart? Now this I’d love to hear. When my Grandma Nell came back to give me a special visit from beyond the veil last June, she let me know that’s what Everett and Noah were for me, my two soulmates.
Pecan Pie Predicament Page 5