Key Lime Pie Perjury: Cozy Mystery (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 34)

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Key Lime Pie Perjury: Cozy Mystery (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 34) Page 7

by Addison Moore


  Noah steps up and chuckles. “New nickname, Everett? It’s a good one, Lot. The jocks and I used to call him that behind his back in high school.”

  Everett’s chest widens like a wall. “Try saying it now to my face.”

  A scuffle breaks out near the register and we turn to see Carlotta and Rooster shouting at one another.

  “Whoa,” I say, heading over. “What’s going on?”

  “Back off, Lot.” Carlotta holds a hand up. “We’re about to settle our differences the old-fashioned way.”

  “A wrestling match?” Noah asks.

  It was a darn good guess.

  “Nope,” Rooster crows. “A race across the lake with Jet Skis.”

  “That’s right,” Carlotta says. “I win and Rooster Puddin’ hightails it back to Higgins Bottom.”

  Rooster sheds a cheesy grin. “And if I win, I get to take both of my pretty women out for dinner.” He squints my way. “Are you salt or sugar?”

  “Sugar,” I assure him.

  He shrugs. “You can come along for dinner, too. You’re exactly my type.” He takes a moment to frown at Everett and Noah. “These young bucks belong to you?”

  “They sure do,” I say with a touch too much pride.

  “Tell you what.” Rooster juts his head out at the two of them. “You’re all welcome to join in on the fun. Any one of you beats me, I’ll leave Honey Hollow for good. And if I win—well, I’ll let you buy me dinner.”

  Everett and Noah share a quick glance.

  “You’re on,” they say in unison, a rare event for the most part.

  “Hey, I want in on this,” I say. “I haven’t been on a Jet Ski since Bear took me for a ride back in high school. And did he ever take me for a ride,” I mutter. “It was right after that Jet Ski trip that I found him making out with one of his hussies. Now, which one you is going to give me a better memory out on that lake today?”

  “You’ll ride with me,” they both say at the very same time once again, right before they share a frown.

  Carlotta leans in and her boobs swing like pendulums. “Foxy, Sexy, don’t just stand there—play rock, paper, scissors for the chance to have Lot Lot squeezing your guns all around that water.”

  “Fine. Best out of three,” Everett growls and they get right to it.

  Carlotta chuckles as she nudges Rooster. “Most nights that’s how they decide who gets to take her to the bedroom.”

  It’s not typically true. I almost always go in with Everett, but a few nights ago they did just that so the winner could read to Lyla Nell as she fell asleep. It was a rare occurrence, but one that may have scarred Evie for life, seeing that she walked in on the back end of the conversation.

  Rooster cocks his head. “Sounds like you’re the fun Sawyer sister.”

  Carlotta nods. “They don’t call her Slutty Lemon for nothing.”

  Rooster belts out a gritty laugh. “Now that’s a nickname you gotta earn.”

  Carlotta slaps him on the back with a twinge of pride in her eyes. “And earn it she did. The fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Noah wins, and soon we’re all out on the lake as the workers from the rental store ready the Jet Skis for us. Turns out, there’s a course marked off by a set of orange buoys and we’ve decided to circle it twice. A few of the employees have volunteered to watch and see which one of us is the winner so we won’t have to worry about Rooster cheating—or Carlotta for that matter.

  Noah and Everett take off their shirts, drop them onto the sand, and predictably a howl of approval is heard from the women all up and down the shoreline. I pull off my sundress and drop it in the very same spot, doing a quick adjustment of this poor purple fabric just threatening to burst at the seams.

  “Geez, Lottie,” Noah says the words viscerally as he takes me in with wonder.

  “Hot damn.” Everett’s lips flicker with the hint of a devilish grin. “Noah, I’ll pay you twenty grand in cash to let her ride with me.”

  “No.” Noah’s lips curl as if I just morphed into a juicy steak that’s landed in front of him.

  “Fifty.” Everett doesn’t give up easy.

  “Keep your money, Baxter. It’s no good with me.”

  “Just fifty?” I wink at Everett as we put on our life vests. Mine is a bit snug and seems to have the upper buckle busted on it, but the lower buckles are all firmly secured so I don’t think anything of it. The vest is so tight that it’s forcing my bosom to rise like the tide as the girls clog up under my neck.

  Everett leans in. “You’re worth more money than they can print, Cupcake. I’ll let you ride with me later.”

  My mouth falls open because I’m not quite sure if I heard the word with or not, but either interpretation works for me.

  Carlotta walks up and grunts as she takes a look at me in my far too small swimsuit. “Show off.”

  We all hop onto our prospective Jet Skis and I wrap my arms around Noah’s waist as best I can, and as I do another buckle comes undone on my life vest. I look down only to find the plastic cracked on that one, too, and there’s no hope in fixing it now.

  Noah turns my way and dots a kiss to my cheek. “Hold on tight, darlin’. We’re going to have one hell of a ride.”

  We were already told that we would be slower since we had more weight on the vehicle, but Noah and I didn’t care. We just wanted in on the fun. And judging by that lusty gleam in his eye just now, this is the exact fun he was hoping for today.

  The employees do a countdown off the dock, and soon we’re all racing for the first buoy. Everett is neck and neck with Rooster, Carlotta isn’t far behind, and we’re just a hair away from her. Noah and I howl and laugh as the water nips at our thighs while we blaze right over it at top speeds. All four Jet Skis make the first lap in the exact order that we started, but by the beginning of the next lap Rooster has taken the lead.

  “Get out there, Everett,” Noah riots even though there’s no hope of Everett hearing. Everett has his head bowed, a mean look on his face, and every muscle in his body is tense with sheer determination. Soon, he’s caught up to Rooster once again and thankfully slips right past him.

  Both Noah and I let out a whoop at the sight.

  “All he has to do is hold the lead,” Noah shouts back at me.

  Carlotta isn’t doing too bad either. Who knew she could maneuver one of these water beasts so well? In fact, she’s inching past Rooster and catching up to Everett. She’s getting awfully close to him, and I bury my face into Noah’s back when it looks as if she’s about to clip him. That little seemingly innocent motion sends the last buckle on my life vest flying open and either side of this foam disaster is flapping open like a set of wings.

  Noah and I hit a rogue wave and up jump the girls, right out of this ever shrinking purple swimsuit.

  A scream rips from me as my boobs begin to rhythmically slap Noah on the back.

  “Whatever you’re doing back there, Lot, it feels amazing,” Noah shouts. “Thanks for the massage!”

  GAH!

  This is no massage I want to tell him. It’s an assault with a milky weapon.

  Everett is now about two car lengths ahead of us and to the right when he glances our way and does a double take. I’m not surprised. Everett has always been hyperaware when my clothes fall off—or in this case malfunction.

  I’d adjust myself if I didn’t think I’d fall right off this contraption and drown. I have no choice but to choose humiliation over death. There’s no way I’m leaving Lyla Nell motherless in a world filled with Carlottas—despite the fact we’re two of them.

  Everett slows down until he’s even with us, and Noah gives him a thumbs-up.

  I’d swear on all that is holy, Everett just gave Noah a look that could kill on sight.

  I try my best to press my chest hard against Noah’s back—in a meager effort to cover myself up, but there are so many bumps and thumps and water shenanigans happening it only makes it look as if I’m trying to do something perver
ted.

  Good grief.

  Maybe drowning is the decent thing to do at this point. Bodies are lining up on the shoreline, I can see people pointing my way—phones and binoculars pointed in my direction, and suddenly death seems the only way out of this nightmare.

  “Carlotta’s got the edge,” Noah shouts, and I look over to see Carlotta nose and nose with Rooster. And if I’m not mistaken, there’s a dearly departed pooch standing proudly at the front of Carlotta’s Jet Ski and a trail of miniature stars is spraying out in his wake.

  We’re on the final stretch. Everett has hardly regained his lead to Noah and me, no thanks to my fantastic distraction methods, and Carlotta is hardly holding her own.

  Then at the last second, Rooster bullets off ahead and is officially crowned the winner.

  We drive straight back to the dock, and I don’t wait for Noah to come to a complete stop before I let go and make a feeble attempt at wrestling my boobs back into their holster while failing miserably.

  The Jet Ski jerks one way, and I jerk the other way, sending me headfirst into Honey Lake. I rocket back to the surface, sputtering and coughing, the life vest long gone, my boobs smacking me in the face, as both Noah and Everett jump in after me.

  “Don’t worry, boys,” Carlotta shouts. “She’s got a set of Sawyer-issued flotation devices. She can double as a life raft for the three of you.”

  “Lemon,” Everett says, swimming over just as Noah gets to me first.

  “Let me help you with that,” he says, and before I realize what’s happening Noah, Everett, and I are trying to stuff my parts back into this spandex thimble.

  “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” I shout with frustration, shoving my right boob down just as the left one comes back and wallops me in the eye. “Funny,” I mutter as I stuff myself back into that bathing suit of shame once and for all only to meet with the cheers and applause of an unwanted audience.

  Everett helps me climb out of the water, and the three of us make our way to the shore where one of the employees returns our belongings.

  Rooster and Carlotta head this way.

  “Good fight, kids.” Rooster slaps his belly as he says it. “And good diversion strategy, Carlotta Number Three.” I don’t bother correcting him. He’s mostly right anyway. “But I learned a long time ago you can’t let a woman use what her mama gave her to tank ya.” He glares over at Carlotta a moment. “Albeit I learned that gem a touch too late. Can’t wait to break bread with ya, Hot Sauce. You got my number. Dinner’s at seven.”

  “Hot Sauce?” Noah asks as we watch him leave.

  “That sounds about right,” I say.

  “Come on, Lemon.” Everett drops a kiss to my lips. “Let’s get back to Lyla Nell and enjoy a little beach time.”

  Noah shakes his head as he looks at his phone. “You’ll have to count me out. Britney just woke up.”

  I look to Everett. “Would you mind spending your last day away from work at Honey Hollow General Hospital?”

  “With you by my side, the morgue would be a good time.” He winces. “Barring Florenza Canelli’s corpse, that is.”

  I nod. “Here’s hoping Britney can lead us straight to the killer quickly. And then we can still have the rest of the day to spend as we please.”

  Carlotta slings an arm over both Noah’s and Everett’s shoulders. “Right up until it’s time to have dinner with Rooster. Is it wrong to say I’m rooting for the killer to strike again?”

  “Nah,” Noah says as he looks to Everett. “I’ve felt that way a time or two.”

  “Watch it,” Everett says. “I can arrange for a hit on you. I’ve got connections. Lemon’s already put a hit out on you once.”

  A laugh lives and dies in my throat because it’s true. It was accidental, of course.

  But the assassination of Duncan Spears was no accident.

  Someone out there very much planned the entire tragic event.

  I bet they’re planning on getting away with it, too.

  One thing they didn’t plan on?

  My thirst for justice.

  Noah

  Honey Hollow General Hospital is more or less quiet this Sunday afternoon.

  After that romp around the lake, we were all starved and ready for that feast on the sand, but thankfully Britney woke up and now the only thing I’m hungry for are answers.

  We went home and did a quick change. Miranda is staying at Lottie’s place watching Lyla Nell because she said a hospital full of sick people is no place for a baby, and I happen to agree with her.

  A smile flickers on my lips as Everett, Lottie, and I head down the hall in the direction of Britney’s room. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Lottie’s hands weren’t implementing that amazing massage on my back on that Jet Ski. I should have figured. She was still gripping onto me with all her might, but I have to admit she can work wonders with any part of her body. And then when she spilled into the water at the dock and I saw her exposed, I jumped right in to help, got a chance to hold her again, feel her body up against mine. But in a strange way it only made me miss her more. I miss waking up next to her. That sweet early morning smile she would greet me with. And yes, I miss her body. I miss every last inch of Lottie Lemon.

  I frown over at Everett just as my phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see the name JC glaring back at me, as in Jimmy Canelli.

  “You go on in,” I tell them as we come upon Brit’s room and they give a gentle knock before disappearing inside.

  Need a map?

  That’s all it says. That’s all it needs to say.

  My blood pressure spikes. I can hear my heartbeat echo in my ears, and an instant knot builds in my stomach.

  Everett pops back out of the room and snatches the phone from me.

  He glances down at my phone before handing it back.

  “You’re not responding.” He hitches his head for the room, and I follow him inside.

  Damn Jimmy for getting in my head. But it’s not Jimmy I should be cursing. It’s my father. And as soon I can, I’m doing just that. Maybe he should be the one to fix this mess. The irony being that I’m in this mess to begin with because I wanted to fix it for him.

  Lottie offers Britney a quick embrace, and I’m reminded of exactly why I’ve chosen to step into the disaster my father created. To protect her. To protect our daughter and Lottie’s mother. At the end of the day, my father has very little to do with the reason I intervened in the first place.

  The room is light and airy, a little too cool, and a little too small. Britney is sitting up in a bed with a tray of half-eaten lasagna next to her, and the scent of Italian food permeates the air.

  Her strawberry-blonde hair is tousled, hiding half her face just the way she likes it. Not many people know that she has a hook-shaped scar under her left eye that she’s been shielding from the world since she was a teenager. I told her it gave her character. She countered that it aged her before her time, thus her signature hairdo was born.

  “How are you feeling?” I go in for a hug myself and she pats my back.

  “I’m fine,” she grunts as she sits up another notch. “Thankfully. So what’s this all about? The nurses didn’t say a word. The doctor said I blacked out, and that I had traces of elevated potassium in my system but not enough to do any damage.” Her eyes flit to the ceiling as if she were remembering something. “Is that why Duncan blacked out? Is he here at the hospital, too?”

  I exchange a quick glance with Lottie and Everett. It’s clear Brit is still in the dark about a lot of things.

  “Britney.” I pick up her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Our marriage might be well over, but I still regard her as a friend. “I’m sorry. Duncan didn’t make it. Forensics is running tests. I expect to be hearing back from them shortly.”

  Lottie turns my way. “I was hoping that’s who had sent you that text.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” My brows furrow as I give Brit’s hand one final pat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t kno
w you knew Duncan.”

  Britney takes a deep breath before looking to Lottie. “Finn and I are taking a break. I was just starting something with Duncan. It was very new.”

  Lottie’s half brother, Finn, is Mayor Nash’s son. I’ve lost track of how long he and Brit have been dating, but it’s been a while. I thought maybe he was the one for her.

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” Lottie says. “Britney, that night at the dance, what exactly happened to you before you blacked out?”

  “Well, I was in the restroom and it was crowded.” Brit winces as she struggles to sit up another notch. “There was a line for the stalls. I decided I would go upstairs instead. Not many people know that the Evergreen has another women’s restroom right up the stairs. Anyway, once I stepped out into the lobby, I saw a crowd gathered around the entry. That’s when I saw Karen and Lorelei talking feverishly about something. I went over to see what the commotion was about, and Lorelei excused herself. She said she was going to be sick. Karen and I did our best to bustle our way to the front of the crowd, and she told me about Duncan falling down. She said he was probably drinking and had blacked out.” Her lips purse as she stares vacantly ahead.

  Everett leans in. “You remember something else, don’t you, Britney? It’s okay, even the most errant or vague recollection can help with the case.”

  “He’s right.” My gut cinches because I have been saying that an awful lot lately, and the old me doesn’t like it. The old me is still very much angry with Everett for stealing Lottie out from under me. The new me isn’t all that improved in that department.

  “There was something.” Brit presses her fingers to her forehead. “The crowd was pressing in. I felt something right here.” She lands her hand just above her elbow. “I remember thinking it felt like a bite, so I jerked. The crowd loosened, and soon we were in the ballroom. I started to feel a little nauseous, and I stumbled over to the dessert table where Suze practically thrust that key lime pie at me.”

  “We should arrest Suze.” Lottie flexes a short-lived smile my way. “Kidding.” She shudders.

 

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