Pecan Pie Predicament

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Pecan Pie Predicament Page 14

by Addison Moore


  “And what were you going to do, Lottie? Arrest him? My God, do you even have Ethel with you?”

  I cringe at the thought of my trusty Glock tucked away in Noah’s gun safe at the moment.

  “No. But in my defense, I’m not alone. Carlotta and Meg are with me.”

  “Meg is working, so in essence you are alone.” He glances to Carlotta. “Sorry,” he says to her.

  A body bumps into Noah from behind, inadvertently knocking him my way, and Noah grabs me by the shoulders in an effort to keep from body slamming my belly.

  “Sorry,” a deep voice strums from behind, and my eyes grow wide with both fear and elation once I spot that familiar scruffy face with a sleek fedora smashed over his head. “Whoa.” He points to Noah. “No roughing up the ladies,” he says before stalking off deeper into the club.

  “That’s him!” I hiss as I lean against Noah. “That’s the Mad Hatter! I have to talk to him,” I say as I try to wrangle free from Noah’s grip.

  “Lottie, no.” He pulls me in. “You can’t just go over there and quiz him regarding a homicide. He might decide to kill you next in order to cover his tracks.”

  “He’s not going to kill me.”

  Speaking of the dead, Barry Honeycutt appears in a spray of orange and yellow miniature stars and strides right past me.

  “I’m sorry, Noah. I have to do this.” I bolt deeper into the club and spot the man in the fedora saying something to a waitress before they part ways. According to her eye roll and that lusty gleam in his eyes, he was hoping for something more than just a drink from her. He takes a seat at a small round table near the back, and I plop into the seat across from him without hesitation.

  “Excuse me?” He shakes his head as he examines me.

  Barry sits in the empty seat to our right and glowers at the guy as if he’s got a horse in this race, and in a way, I guess he does.

  “This guy is trouble, Lottie,” Barry grunts. “I think you might be in over your head.”

  If only Barry knew how in over my head I’ve been in the last two years, and seeing that I’m still on the right side of the soil says a lot about how careful I can be.

  “I need your help,” I whisper to the Mad Hatter in haste.

  “My help?” He leans in and squints over at me. He’s handsome, dark hair peering out from around his hat, dark stubble, light eyes with a look of mischief buried in each one, and an attitude or an ego, probably both, exuding from him. “Oh, I see.” He cranes his neck past me. “The old man in the suit who was roughing you up? You want him gone?” He shakes his head. “Typically, I’d say no, but you’re a pretty girl and I don’t like to see pretty girls like you getting roughed up.”

  Right. Hot Hannah was plenty pretty, and ironically, he’s the one who did the roughing up.

  “Is that something you do?” I try my best to bait him. “You know, rough people up?”

  A dark laugh bounces from him. “Oh honey, I can make that man disappear off the face of the earth, and no one would know where to begin to look for him.”

  I grimace at the thought. “How much does something like that run?”

  Barry inches back. “Lottie.”

  I shrug his way. “Asking for a friend.” The truth is, I’m not asking for a friend or myself. I simply want to find an inroad into how and why he killed Hannah. Most importantly for whom.

  “Five K, but seeing that I have the menace in my sights”—he cranes his neck again to get a better look at Noah—“I’ll do this one pro bono. What can I say? I’ve got the Christmas spirit a little bit early. Besides, it’s coming up on my busy season, and I’m out of practice. This will help me out, too.”

  “Hear that?” Barry gives an obnoxious laugh that sounds like a seal barking. “He’s going to off Noah for you for free. Talk about a steal. You’re a pretty good negotiator, Lottie. Too bad it’ll cost Noah his life.”

  I frown over at the wall of muscles next to me. Interrogating a suspect is hard enough without a running commentary from the other side.

  I lean toward the Mad Hatter. “So, um, what means are you looking to utilize?”

  “I like bullets. Knives are messy. But if you’re looking to chop off a particular part of his anatomy, I can arrange to do that, too. I’m flexible that way.”

  Good Lord up in heaven, if this baby isn’t Noah’s, he might have just lost his shot at parenthood altogether after the Mad Hatter gets through with him—that is, if he survives.

  “No, no, that’s okay. I don’t need anything so violent. I was thinking more along the lines of—poisoning. You know, with something like fentanyl?”

  Barry groans. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what you should be doing.” He glances back to the bar. “You know, Carlotta is sitting right there. Maybe I should have her let Noah in on what’s happening. I think he has grounds for an arrest—yours, Lottie.”

  I shoot the chatty specter a look that says try it and you just might die twice.

  “Poisoning?” The Mad Hatter leans back. “I haven’t done one of those in a good long while. And to be truthful, the result wasn’t what I was after.”

  “Did they die a long and torturous death?”

  “Nope. They recovered. Ruined my reputation in the process, too.” The waitress sinks a shot glass in front of him and he quickly knocks it back.

  “Recovered? Hannah didn’t recover.” My lips invert, because for the life of me, I did not mean to let that tidbit fly out.

  “Hannah?” He tips his ear my way. “Are you talking about the woman from Honey Hollow?”

  “Did you know her?”

  He glances to the stage where the women are busy doing their topless thing.

  “You could say we were acquaintances. But that wasn’t my work.” His shoulders sag a moment.

  Barry folds his arms across this chest. “So he didn’t do it? Or he doesn’t want you to think he did it?”

  I shake my head. Something tells me this guy’s ego wouldn’t mind the bragging rights if he did.

  “I knew Hannah, too.” I offer a wobbly smile. “She was my neighbor. And it’s all so sad. She was so young and beautiful.”

  “You mean booty—ful.” He gives a little wink, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say those were tears glistening in his eyes. “She really had it going on. I thought maybe we could have had a thing, you know?”

  I narrow my eyes over his. “How long had you known her? And where did you meet?”

  “Just a day. We met out back in an alley.” A loose grin takes over as he looks past my shoulder as if reliving the memory.

  “Just a day?” Barry scoffs. “He’s talking about the day he roughed her up, Lottie. Don’t buy this guy’s bull.”

  The Mad Hatter nods as if he were agreeing with Barry.

  “I guess you could say it was a blind date,” the Mad Hatter adds. “Someone thought we needed to meet.” He winks my way and my mouth falls open.

  “Did someone put a hit out on Hannah?”

  His lips cinch. “It wasn’t a hit.” He shrugs. “All right, it was a literal hit, as in they wanted me to do some damage to her kneecaps to get her out of the game for a while. No Grim Reaper action. It was the first time I was contracted to do something like that to a woman. And I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. I came with a crowbar, but I ditched it once I saw her. I couldn’t hurt a hair on that goddess’ head. So I did the right thing.”

  “You shook her silly in the alley?” I blink over at him, completely unfazed that I just blurted out the truth.

  “No,” he says it with an incredulous look on his face. “When it comes to women, I’m a lover, not a fighter. I’ve taken hits geared toward women off my list of services. I strictly specialize in jackasses like your soon-to-be dead ex over there.” He flicks a finger Noah’s way and my muscles freeze up. “I was warning Hannah that day. A beautiful woman like that should have the heads-up that someone was looking to put a limp in her step. Too bad she wouldn’t believ
e me. She tried to call the cops. She thought I was a nutcase.”

  Barry glances my way. “She had good instincts.”

  The Mad Hatter shrugs. “And then, no less than an hour later, I see the sheriff’s cruisers pulling up. It turns out, she bit the big one after all.”

  “Hey, I bet it was your client finishing off the job.”

  His lips knot up as he twitches his head to the side. “I don’t know. She was very specific that she didn’t want to hurt her too bad, just enough to put her out of commission for a month or two. She said in order to get back on her feet, she needed to take Hannah off of hers.”

  I nod as the picture comes in clear. “It was Reese Underwood, wasn’t it?”

  “Reese who?” He shakes his head my way and I gasp.

  “So it was Britney?” I all but wail her name.

  A sly smile rides on his lips. “Now, now, I don’t out my clients to no one.”

  “You don’t have to.” My blood boils at the thought of Britney trying to hobble her competition like this. “Nice meeting you.” I get up and take a few steps forward before turning back abruptly to call off the hit on Noah, but he’s gone and so is Barry.

  “Oh no, oh no, oh no.” I moan as I make my way back to the bar.

  Noah wraps his arms around me and touches his nose to mine for a moment.

  “So, Lot? Are you next on his hit list?”

  “Nope.” I cringe at what comes next. “You are.”

  Chapter 13

  That night, Everett picked up Wicked Wok and Noah happened to pick up a pizza from Mangias and they both walked through the door together, frowning at one another—correction, glowering at one another.

  I’m pretty sure Everett and I have worn out our welcome. Okay, fine, so it’s probably just Everett who’s worn out his welcome, but seeing that we’re legally joined as one, I’ll take on half the brunt of Noah’s dissatisfaction with his current living arrangements.

  Every last one of us eats ourselves into a rather pleasant food coma. Noah stepped out to the side of the house to replenish our supply of firewood, and Everett stepped into our bedroom, Noah’s old bedroom, for a moment. Evie ends up cuddling on the carpet, using Toby as a body pillow once again. As far as goldens go, he’s on the bigger end of the size spectrum. He’s on the bigger end of the fluffy spectrum, too.

  Carlotta has Pancake and Waffles held hostage in her lap while she strums her fingers through their fur as if she’s playing the piano.

  “Hey”—I motion to get both Evie and Carlotta’s attention—“Evie, before your Dad steps back into the room, I just want you to know I’ve got the food taken care of for his surprise party this Friday. I’ve got the Honey Pot Diner delivering a traditional Thanksgiving meal, and I have the Wicked Wok bringing a truckload of food, too.”

  Evie nods. “I’ve got the decorations covered. The cheer team is going to help me set up after school.”

  “Turkey and egg rolls. Sounds like a delicious combo.” Carlotta drills her fingers over Pancake’s back. “It’s the best of both worlds.”

  “Carlotta, what are you doing to my poor cat?”

  “I’ve got to practice, Lot. If business keeps going the way it is, Forbes might declare me the next female billionaire by the year’s end.”

  Evie shakes her head, her eyes never leaving her phone. “The year ends in like a month. Besides, you don’t want to be a billionaire. My grandpa Bentley is one, and all it’s brought him are young women who let him use their bodies in hopes to become his next favorite eye candy, a daughter with a heart only for money, and a bunch of fake friends. Of course, it’s also bought him a home in just about every ritzy state and country, not to mention a fleet of fast cars, and a fleet of even faster private planes. He owns an island in the Caribbean, too.”

  Carlotta all but inhales Waffles’ tail at the thought. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Swap out the eye candy for man candy and we’ve got a deal. Lot already has an ice-cold heart, and Lord knows I need an island in the Caribbean to disappear off to whenever I feel like it.”

  “Believe me, Carlotta, I’m rooting for you to move to a tropical island.” I glance her way as I settle on the sofa and land my feet onto the coffee table. I’ve long since kicked off my shoes and put on a pair of warm, fuzzy socks. Noah doesn’t seem to mind my feet all over his furniture, and I’m thankful. “But I contest the fact I have an ice-cold heart.” My hands cradle my tiny blooming baby bump. I just can’t believe how much my stomach is rounding out and firming up. “I’m not cold-hearted.”

  “Sure you are, Lot.” Carlotta smashes both Pancake and Waffles’ heads down one at a time in a rhythmic pattern, and I’m guessing it’s a move her customers love. The cats don’t seem to mind either. “You’ve got Foxy and Mr. Sexy on a string, especially now with that big question mark in your belly. I wouldn’t tolerate it if a man treated me that way—with another woman in the wings. If the tables were turned, you wouldn’t like it either.”

  A choking sound emits from me, but Evie waves her off.

  “Mom, don’t listen. You’re like a superhero when it comes to matters of the heart. I aspire to be you. I like the fact you’re essentially giving societal norms regarding relationship the finger.”

  Noah steps in and sheds a dimpled grin my way. “The finger?” he mouths.

  “I’m not giving anyone the finger.” I cover my belly with my entire arm as I say it. I can’t help it. It felt tantamount to saying an expletive. “Things have just been complicated, and we’re doing the best we can.”

  Noah sighs as he picks up a brown bag off the floor before taking a seat to my right.

  “You’re right, Lot.” He searches my features with an ache embedded in each eye. “And it’s all my fault.”

  “Darn tootin’.” Carlotta doesn’t mind cutting Noah off at the proverbial knees. “You had Lot Lot on lock, and you botched that one up real good. Face it, you set Mr. Sexy up without even trying. And then you spent the next two years blaming it all on him.”

  Everett steps into the room with a brown bag of his own as he heads this way.

  “That’s right, Carlotta,” Everett is quick to agree with her. “It’s nice to see you’re on my side.”

  Carlotta looks up at him. “I’m always on your side, Sexy—so long as you’re still offering up the free legal protection.” She purses her lips his way, her eyes practically popping out of her head with the quasi-threat.

  Noah chuckles. “Carlotta, I’m the one with the ability to ticket and arrest you.”

  She nods. “Don’t worry, Foxy. Lot’s heart is fickle. You still stand a chance. Besides, we all know Lot’s got two soulmates, and you happen to be filling the shoes of one of them.”

  “So you’re saying the odds just might be in my favor?” I can tell he’s only half-teasing.

  Carlotta wiggles Pancake’s tail. “Does a bear live in the woods?”

  Noah glances over at Everett. “Apparently not.”

  Everett hands both Carlotta and me a mug of hot apple cider, something he’s gotten into the habit of doing each night and we both appreciate the heck out of it.

  “Evie”—Everett’s voice hardly garners her attention away from her phone—“hot cider?” he asks while heading over to stoke the fire.

  “No, thank you. But as soon as Thanksgiving is over, I vote we switch our nightly beverage to hot cocoa. Uncle Noah? We’re going to miss you when we all move across the street without you.”

  “We can leave Carlotta behind.” I give her a cheeky wink, and she all but scowls at me.

  “You won’t miss me,” Noah says, expanding his chest. “I’ll be by every day. You’ll wish you can get rid of me.”

  Carlotta snickers. “Not according to Lot.” She looks over to Everett. “Guess what your wife did today? She put a hit out on her ex.”

  Everett’s eyes widen just as a genuine belly laugh bounces from him. Honest to God, it’s sort of a first.

  Evie sits up with a start. “No
freaking way!” Her phone buzzes, and she glances to the screen momentarily. “It’s Conner. He wants to talk about a real commitment between just the two of us.” She sticks a finger down her throat and gags. “Monogamy is for boomers like Glam Glam. Obviously, he doesn’t know who’s raising me. I’d better take this to my room.” She gets up, and Toby follows suit. “Mom, you’re my freaking hero. Sorry, Uncle Noah. Mom rules the roost. If you don’t play the game her way, she’ll find a way to make you disappear. And one day, I plan on taking a page out of her playbook.” She takes off down the hall with Toby by her side, and it doesn’t take five seconds before both Pancake and Waffles bolt from Carlotta’s psychotic hold on them.

  “It was an accident,” Noah calls out after Evie before turning my way. “It was an accident, wasn’t it, Lot?”

  I pull him in and land a kiss over his cheek. “I swear on everything that is holy and right, it was an accident.”

  Everett sits next to me and slings an arm around my shoulders.

  “Don’t worry, Lemon. You keep up the story, I’ll make sure it holds water in court.”

  Noah growls over at him, “I’ve got a surprise for you, Lottie.” He brandishes his small paper bag.

  Everett holds up an identical bag. “So do I.”

  Carlotta clucks her tongue. “What am I? Chopped transmundane liver? The two of you would benefit from doing a little kissing up my way. Everyone knows a girl loves it when people are good to her mama.”

  Noah nods. “And that’s exactly why you live under my roof.”

  Everett tips his head her way. “And that’s why I paid for your minivan.”

  “Speaking of which.” Carlotta jumps to her feet. “I’ve got to order me some more of that rubbing oil. If you want in on it, Lot, just say so. You’ve got about as many men to rub down as I do.”

  I shoot her a look. “I’ll pass.”

  She takes off and Noah rattles that bag my way once again, and Everett does the same.

  Noah glowers a moment. “She’ll like mine better.”

  “Mine’s probably bigger.” He winks over at Noah, and I shake my head at him.

 

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