Pecan Pie Predicament

by Addison Moore

  “You’re coming with me.” I try my best to take up his hand, but it’s a futile effort.

  Barry floats by my side as I pause just outside the conservatory. I spot Noah and Everett still locked in a conversation with their mothers.

  I spot Cormack making the rounds with that cursed clipboard of hers, and I glower at her for trying to gain momentum on her efforts to kick me out of town while in the middle of my husband’s party—while in the middle of my mother’s house.

  I spot my sisters laughing it up near the cookie table, and next to them Lainey’s husband, Forest, holds little Josie. Mom and Wiley are manning the bar, and there’s enough brown liquor floating around to get drunk off the fumes themselves.

  I spot Carlotta pretending to pull her pants down by that toilet-shaped cake while a photographer takes pictures. Keelie and Bear are here with their little tyke in tow, and they look dressed to the nines as they try to garner the attention of the photographer themselves. That’s right. Their Christmas pictures are taking place tonight. I’d better hurry up with the investigation portion of the evening before the entire party evaporates before my eyes, not that it would be such a bad thing. I think Everett deserves a do-over at this point.

  “Lottie!” a friendly female voice calls from my left, and I turn to find Autumn and Maizy, each with a plate of my sweet treats. Autumn’s dark red lipstick matches her tresses, and she looks cozy in her thick brown cardigan with fall leaves appliqued over it. Maizy has her blonde hair in a knot at the base of her neck as her bangs fringe her forehead. She holds up a slice of my pecan pie my way.

  “This is fantastic.” She gives a somewhat guilty looking smile. “I probably shouldn’t have it.”

  “Oh, calories don’t count on Sundays or in November.” I give her the abbreviated version of my caloric spiel.

  But Maizy shakes her head. “Because of Hannah. It’s the last thing she ate.” She shrugs. “I hope she enjoyed it. Or at least the first bite.”

  Autumn takes a breath and shudders. “I’m sure she did. Pecan pie was her favorite. She told me so herself.” She shrugs my way. “Any news on who could have done this? Your mother says you’re dating the lead investigator.”

  “Actually…” I grimace. “Well, I used to.” My hand rounds over my tiny pooch of a belly. “As for the case, I think we should all brace ourselves. I have a feeling there’s going to be a big announcement very, very soon.”

  “Really?” Autumn blinks back. “That’s wonderful. I know I’ll feel much better once the killer is taken off the street.” She flits her eyes to her left, and I follow her gaze until I come upon a couple of fitness fanatics loading up on carbs as if they were on some new dieting craze. How do you like that? It’s as if even Autumn suspects the two of them—or more to the point, Reese Underwood. I suppose it’s obvious, and it has been since the beginning. I’m shocked she hasn’t left town by now. But then, that gym of hers all but glues her feet to Honey Hollow.

  Maizy nudges Autumn toward the cookie table. “Let’s get some more of those chocolate chip cookies before they’re all gone.”

  Autumn laughs. “Thanks again for the invite, Lottie. Will you have a booth at the Taste of Honey Hollow Street Fair again tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Right in front of the bakery.”

  “Perfect! I’ll finish up my research for the article!” They take off, and Barry leans in.

  “Hey”—he nudges me—“there’s that blonde with one eye and the brunette cutie.”

  He points, and I crane my neck until I spot Britney and Reese glaring at my calorie-laden cookies as if they were the very bane of their existence. And they just might be.

  Carlotta passes me by and I yank her back.

  “Carlotta, I need a favor.”

  “Anything for my Lot Lot.” She leans in. “Make it quick. I’ve got Harry waiting for me in the bathroom. I told him I’d bring cookies.”

  “Eww.” I make a face. “Keep an eye on Britney and Reese, especially Reese. I’m going to jump upstairs to see if I can find anything in her room. I’ll be back so fast, Mayor Nash won’t have time to flush.” I grimace.

  Words I never thought I’d say.

  “What’s in it for me, Lot?” She glowers over at Barry for a moment.

  “I’ll run that cookie special for A Whole Lotta Touchin’.”

  Her eyes expand with a note of interest. “For the entire holiday season?”

  My muscles tense up. “For the entire holiday season.”

  “Get out of here, Lot.” She rolls up her sleeves. “I’ve got a suspect to mind.”

  Barry and I speed on over to the front desk where I quickly look up Reese Underwood’s name on the register and see she’s in room twenty-two. I swipe the spare key, and quicker than a poltergeist, Barry and I are standing in the stillness of her room.

  I flick on the light and note the bed is neatly made with a cozy looking orange and brown quilt pulled tight. There’s an opened suitcase on the chair near the window and a small duffle bag sits opened on the dresser. I head over to the suitcase and peer inside, nothing but pants, a few sweaters, and undergarments. I head to the duffle bag and begin poking around. A few bottles of lotion, scarves, and mittens.

  Barry heads to the bathroom. “Come here, Lottie. I think I found something.”

  I speed over and find a large quilted bag split open over the counter. On one side a few cosmetics sit on top of it. On the other side there’s a mesh compartment that’s zipped shut, but I can distinctly see a couple of locks of pink hair swirling around in there. I unzip it, and sure enough, those hair extensions Reese wears are present and accounted for, so I pull them out. They’re each about ten inches long, less than a centimeter wide, and they feel very much like human hair.

  “If they weren’t so pretty, I might be grossed out,” I say.

  Barry makes a face. “Do you think they fell out of her hair?”

  “Maybe,” I say, inspecting them and note they’re all bundled together with a rubber band and there’s a price tag on top. “Huh. Maybe she bought a few to spare? Anyway, this is exactly what I saw in the Swift Cycle gym next to Hannah’s body.”

  A tiny rectangular business card catches my eye from inside the mesh, and I fish it out.

  “Ah-ha!” I say. “Look at this! It’s a business card from Red Satin. She was there. That’s where she met the Mad Hatter. My God, if I didn’t know better, it’s as if she wanted me to find this.”

  Barry reaches over and picks something up off the sink. “Well, well,” he says, handing a small brown bottle my way.

  “Oh wow. It’s a prescription for fentanyl. Barry, this is a smoking gun if ever there was one. It’s half-empty, and I bet the missing pills were ground up and put right into that pie Reese fed to Hannah.” I quickly pull my phone out and take a picture of the scene. It’s not until I’m about to put the bottle of medication back do I notice the name on the front of it. “Charles Nelson.” I inch back. “Why does that sound familiar?”

  A noise erupts in the hall, and I quickly head to the door and flick off the lights.

  Barry steps right through the wooden door and into the corridor before poking his head back into the room and the illumination from his ghostly flesh lights up the entire area.

  “The coast is clear. You’d better take off while you can.”

  And I do. I head back down to the party just in time to sing happy birthday to my handsome husband. The crowd is boisterous and seemingly having a good time, and Everett looks a whole lot less mortified than he was when we first stepped in.

  Everett gives a slight bow as the song comes to a conclusion and holds up his drink.

  “Thank you all for coming. When I saw your glowing faces earlier, I thought my wife and I were seeing the dead, but it turns out, you’re a lively bunch after all.”

  A roar of laughter ensues.

  “Nice save,” I whisper his way as the party roars to life once again.

  The photographer comes up, and in th
e middle of their shooting spree, Keelie shoves Noah next to me.

  “Come on, Lottie. Let’s get a picture of you knocked up with your men by your side.” She motions to Noah and Everett. “Give her a kiss on each cheek.”

  And much to the delight of the crowd, they do just that.

  Cressida may have tried to ruin the party, but in the end it looks as if everyone is having a good time. Hopefully, they’ll still let Everett into the courthouse come Monday.

  We eat the toilet cake, which isn’t half bad, and I dance with my husband to that overtly cheery polka music.

  And when we’re through, I’m going to tell Noah all about the killer in our midst.

  Chapter 16

  Noah wasn’t all that thrilled to hear how I went about obtaining my evidence. Come to think of it, neither was Everett.

  It’s the very next day, the last day of the Taste of Honey Hollow Street Fair, and it seems the entire Eastern Seaboard has swamped the area. The brisk fall air has everyone bundled in coats and scarves, and the air holds the scent of sugar and vanilla competing with the tangy scent of pizza from Mangias and the thick scent of turkey from the Honey Pot Diner. The trees are all but skeletal as the wind picks up, and you can hear the crunch of leaves going off in a steady rhythm as the crowd moves along Main Street.

  I’ve set up a booth right outside of my shop, and despite the fact I have a myriad of mouthwatering sweet treats set about, it seems the only baked goods anyone is interested in purchasing are my pecan pies. They’re going quick, whole and by the slice, even though Carlotta is here with her questionable fliers trying to drum up business for her massage mishap.

  “A Whole Lotta Touchin’!” she bellows at the unsuspecting crowd before shoving a flier into the hand of a surly looking man who just stepped up to my booth. “Buy a slice of pie and get a free rubdown in my van!”

  His face brightens as he takes it from her, but the woman he’s with snaps it out of his hand and beats him over the arm with it before tossing it back at Carlotta and hauling him away.

  Lily chuckles. “That’s three men in a row that have gotten a beatdown because of you, Carlotta.”

  “That’s funny,” I say. “I feel like doing a beatdown of my own.” I glower over at my older look-alike. “Carlotta, I’m going to have to ask you to take your flyer someplace else. My customers are being assaulted because of them.”

  “Fine,” she snips. “I’ll go stand over at the Honey Pot Diner’s booth. Meg and Keelie appreciate my company. I think rubdowns go better with a turkey platter anyway.”

  Autumn steps up with a laugh caught in her throat. “I thought she was very colorful.”

  A laugh of my own rumbles through my chest. “That’s a very nice way to put it. Pie?”

  “Yes, please—pecan. I can’t get enough. Do you think you’ll be free in about twenty minutes to do that interview? I can do it right here while you’re serving the customers, I don’t mind. I had a blast observing these past few weeks.”

  “You bet. And I’m glad you had a good time.” I hand a slice of pecan pie to her just as someone across the way shouts the words everything half off into a bullhorn.

  Autumn and I look that way and find Maizy behind the Bootyful Booty booth with a giant red slash over the prices.

  “I guess she’s looking to get rid of inventory.” I sigh at the thought.

  “Looks that way.” Autumn takes a few steps in that direction. “I should go over and help her. Things are so hard for her right now. Hannah dying actually might put her in the black again.”

  A moment of stunned silence crops up as I turn back to look at her.

  “Forgive my horrible humor.” She shudders. “I think all these sweet treats I’ve been drowning in are eating my brain cells. I’ll catch up with you in a little bit.”

  I spot Noah watching me pensively from across the street, and I ask Lily to keep an eye on the booth while I head his way.

  “Keeping an eye on yours truly.” I bat my lashes at him. “You’re not really going to have me arrested, are you?”

  His dimples dig in, but there’s not a smile in sight. “No, but I should. Lottie, you do realize breaking and entering is an illegal offense.”

  “That’s the thing, I didn’t break in. I’m practically an owner of the B&B, and I may or may not have heard the water running. The place could have flooded.” I take a breath. “Okay, so none of that is true, but if I was caught, that would have been my cover.”

  “It’s a good one.” He does a quick sweep of my body. “Do you have Ethel with you?”

  “Nope. I knew you’d be here, and I have no plans on leaving my booth with the exception of speaking to you.”

  “I’m flattered,” he says, but that less than amused look on his face tells me he’s not all that impressed.

  “Okay, fine.” I apologize again while looking into the crowd for signs of Everett. He said he needed to meet up with someone at the site of his old house. He’s been dealing with people all month concerning those piles of rubble we once called home. I know he was working to get a debris removal company to come out and clear up the charred mess left behind.

  “Come here.” Noah softens, and he takes up my hand. “I just want you safe, Lot. If you would have alerted me to what you were up to, I would have gone up with you.”

  “Really?”

  He winces. “Maybe.”

  We share a quick laugh.

  Noah examines me a moment. “So you really think Reese did this?”

  “Don’t you?” I ask, amazed he had to pose the question. “I mean, I don’t think the Mad Hatter did this.”

  He makes a face. “No, but he might be working on a homicide as we speak. I saw him here not too long ago.”

  My hand covers my mouth. “I will fix this for you, Noah, I promise.”

  A dull chuckle comes from him. “Do not attempt anything. I have Ivy combing the area. As soon as she spots him, I’m going to have a talk with him myself. Don’t worry. I won’t turn the tables on you.”

  I wrap my arm over my belly. “You had better not. Anyway, he’s off my list as far as being the killer goes. I’m pretty sure of it. There’s Maizy. She said she all but lost her shirt while investing in the Bootyful shakes. I know she wasn’t thrilled with Hannah’s lack of business acumen, but then she did follow her lead.”

  Noah nods. “So her motive is clear. She was angry about the financial pickle Hannah put her in. What about Brit? Are we letting her off the hook?” He winks as if to dismiss the question entirely.

  “Yes. But to be truthful, if Reese didn’t have so much physical evidence lying around, I don’t think I’d be so quick to take her off the hook. As for why the Mad Hatter pretended not to know of Reese, well, I’m guessing it’s against his policy to divulge such sensitive information. But I saw him go into her gym, twice.”

  “Okay, how about Autumn? She knew Hannah.”

  I shrug. “She said they were friends. It was one of the first things she said to me right after she introduced herself. I know she’s here on assignment. And she just got a divorce. Oh, and she mentioned she and her husband used to stay up at our lodge.”

  His left cheek hikes a notch. “We should stay at our lodge. What do you say, Lot? A babymoon, just you and me. You know, like a honeymoon before the baby comes. I read all about it in one of those books.”

  “A babymoon? Just you and me? I think my husband would have a thing or two to say about it.”

  “He’s always getting in the way, isn’t he? Maybe I should pay the Mad Hatter a visit.” His phone rings, and he frowns down at the screen. “That’s Ivy. I’d better take this.”

  “You know where to find me.” I step back into the sea of people, and before I know it, I’ve drifted over to the Fanatical Fitness booth. I take a deep breath a moment, debating whether or not I should talk to Reese. Britney is busy with a few prospective customers as they go over a pricing sheet for her gym, but Reese is busy pouring the contents of a blender into sm
all sample size cups. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and those pink streaks of hers are heavily pronounced.

  She glances my way. “Want one?” She holds out a small cup full of a pink frothy smoothie, and I head over and take it.

  “Thank you,” I say. “Your hair looks great. I was just looking at it. Is it hard to maintain?”

  “This mop?” She gives her ponytail and wiggle. “Nah. I hit the salon every three weeks like clockwork. It’s my way of spoiling myself. I’m thinking of dyeing it back to my natural color for Christmas. My mother would be thrilled. Sort of my gift to her. My mother’s side of the family is a bit stuffy, and she’s not looking forward to the ridicule.” She gives an eye roll as if she couldn’t care less.

  “Couldn’t you just take them out? I’ve never had extensions, but I’m guessing you could have them removed.”

  “I’ve never had extensions either. This is my hair. It took my poor stylist forever to strip my color out and put such a light pink shade in. But she’s used to my follicular adventures by now.”

  “So wait, you don’t have extensions?” I study her a moment, and she seems to be genuine.

  “Nope. Why would you think—” She tips her head back. “You’re thinking about that pink hair they found by Hannah’s body, aren’t you? I told that female homicide investigator it wasn’t mine. It could have belonged to any of Brit’s customers. People are forever coming in with crazy hairstyles. My stylist says I’ve started a trend.”

  “I’m sure you have.”

  She sets down the heavy pitcher and gives her left wrist a quick massage.

  “That injury still bothering you?” I nod to her wrist, and she shakes her hand out.

  “Just a smidge. It seems to act up as the weather gets colder. But then, my doctor said it would. Your husband’s arm might just turn into a barometer, too. You never know.”

  “Oh, he’s taking medication.” I don’t mind shedding the lie. The truth is, Everett didn’t so much as take an aspirin. “But I bet you took medication, too. What did they give you?”