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

by Addison Moore

  I don’t bother wasting any time as I speed her way, and the faint sound of barking comes up on my right until Pretty Boy appears snapping and snarling right at the suspect in question.

  “I’m here, Lottie,” Pretty Boy pants, and tiny sparks emit from around his snout. “I don’t know what I’ll do with Carlotta. I’m afraid I’ll have to send her away to obedience school—a tough one of the military variety. She needs extensive training.”

  “Oh, could you?” I tell him, momentarily getting lost in a glimmer of hope.

  “Excuse me?” Enya leans in. She’s wearing heels and towers right over me. Her salt and pepper locks are neatly pulled into a bun, and her dress is a neutral shade of butter.

  “Lottie, you look amazing. Are those handsome men of yours here tonight? I bet they don’t take their eyes off of you. They’re okay, right?” She winces, most likely at the memory of what transpired at The Bar Brawl.

  “They lived to see another day.” I nod. But I have a feeling if they don’t recover those briefcases, that good time may not last very long. “Enya, can I ask you a question? Were you seeing Duncan romantically?”

  Pretty Boy snips, “Yes, she was seeing him. Duncan liked them both tall and small, Daphne used to say. Then she’d throw a shoe at him.”

  Sounds like he deserved it.

  Enya averts her eyes. “I was and I wasn’t. I mean, I thought I was seeing him in the traditional sense, then I needed some cash and he came through for me, but he made a game of it and made it feel—well, dirty. Rumors got started that were more than a little embarrassing for me. But I know for a fact who started them. His ex.”

  “Britney?” I wrinkle my nose. “Wait, she wasn’t his ex. She was his current girlfriend.”

  She shakes her head. “She didn’t want to be named—said he was beneath her both in public and in the privacy of their own bedroom. But they were old news by the time I started seeing him.”

  “Enya, who is she?”

  Her eyes flit to the dessert table. Let’s just say she’s standing right over there.”

  “Where?” Pretty Boy cries as he floats above the crowd to get a better look. “Which one is she? I bet she’s the killer.”

  Enya points as if she heard him, and I follow her finger right to where Karen and Lorelei are congregating near the coffee urn.

  “One of them is Duncan’s ex?” I say mostly to myself.

  “I didn’t say a word.” Enya holds her hands up as she floats away.

  “Come on, Lottie.” Pretty Boy does his best to nudge me along by butting his head to my shoulders. “Let’s go get her. You smash a key lime pie in her face, and I’ll lick it right off.”

  “That’s the best you’ve got?”

  He shakes his fuzzy little helmet head. “Fine, I’ll bite her ankles.”

  “Now we’re talking.” I take a step that way just as Henrick Dayton crosses in front of me.

  “Hey, Henrick,” I say, and he turns my way and offers a pleasant smile. “I’m Lottie—the baker? We met at my booth the other day at the lake.”

  “Carlotta’s mother?”

  “What? No. Did she tell you I was her mother?” Good gracious, the woman speaks fluent in lies. And as irritated as I am for her to have said it, I’m twice as irritated that Henrick believed her. But then again, he is rather smitten. “Never mind. Can I ask you a question? Did you know who Duncan’s ex-girlfriend was?”

  “Can’t say that I do or that I cared. Why do you ask?”

  “I guess I just wondered if maybe she should be investigated. You know, as in she might be the killer.”

  He tips his head back. “Anyone foolish enough to throw their life away over that idiot deserves to head to prison. Whoever she is, I hope the sheriff’s department makes an arrest quickly. Business at the lake is down. People are wary.”

  “Understandably so.”

  Pretty Boy barks. “Ask if he knows anything about Karen or Lorelei’s history with Duncan.”

  I nod to Henrick, and I’m about to ask just that when he points to the dessert table.

  “See those two women? That’s who has the answer to your question. They’re both too greedy and desperate for their own good.” He stalks off into the crowd and leaves Pretty Boy and me in his dust.

  “Karen is desperate?” I whisper as Pretty Boy and I take a few steps away from the crowd. “But her husband owns that fancy pet store. And Lorelei? Sure, she was humiliated, but she has a ranch—where, according to Enya, she’s sitting high on the hog.”

  Pretty Boy slouches over my shoulders, and he feels like a warm, fuzzy massage.

  “I never did enjoy going to the pet store,” he mopes. “It was always code for the veterinarian. And boy, did I punish Duncan when he tricked me like that. I piddled in his shoes for a month.”

  A tiny giggle vibrates through me. “I tell Pancake and Waffles the very same thing. And you know what? They’re pretty upset with me when we get home, too.”

  A thought hits me. “Wait a minute, the Posh Pet Stop has a vet office in each shop, isn’t that right?” I quickly pull out my phone and affirm the fact. There’s Dennis Collier with his shock of dark hair, those dark smiling eyes, and that wide veneered smile. I’ve always wondered why he didn’t have a pet as his logo. My guess is his ego wouldn’t let him do it. I read on. “Oh, Pretty Boy, they do have a vet on site.” I tip my head his way. “And if vets have access to anything, it’s meds.” I suck in a sharp breath. “I bet they’d have access to potassium chloride. Hey, isn’t that what they use to put pets to sleep?”

  “Perhaps,” he says. “And I’m guessing that’s what we’ll have to use when it comes time for Carlotta to cross that rainbow bridge. She’s still got a lot of spunk in her—but, yet, that day comes for us all. And I’ll be right there to hold her when she goes. I’m pretty sure she’ll go kicking and screaming.”

  “My guess is that’s how she came into this world. I don’t see why she wouldn’t exit in the very same manner.”

  I look up potassium chloride on my phone, and sure enough, it’s commonly used at the vet for those unfortunate circumstances. “Pet euthanasia—euthanasia.” My eyes widen as I look to the dessert table. “Karen Collier just bumped up to the top of my suspect list. Not only would she have had access to the deadly drug, but she was paying Duncan hush money.”

  Pretty Boy barks. “What better way to hush Duncan for good and save a little money on the side?”

  “That sounds desperate and greedy, just the way Henrick suggested.”

  The chipper spook by my side starts in on a barking tirade.

  “She’s coming this way, Lottie.” He jumps from side to side before running a circle around me.

  “That she is.” I step closer to the door and meet her before she exits the room. “Karen,” I pant as I follow her into the lobby where it’s an octave quieter and the air is cooler.

  “Lottie!” she beams. Her long dark hair looks ironed to a glossy finish, and her big brown eyes are mesmerizing to look at, especially since those inch-long lashes actually manage to look natural on her. “Please tell me you’ve finally come to your senses and are ready to hire a nanny. Oh, I know, the first nanny is always the hardest, but the good news is you could still do things like mommy and me. I took my little toe heads with me there, too—but I had the nanny come with.” She winks.

  “Karen—” I stop short as a visual of her blonde little boys bounce before me, and their arrestingly gorgeous clear green eyes. And now I realize why they seemed so familiar to me at the time—Duncan.

  Duncan Spears had blond hair and clear green eyes—and he was an exact doppelgänger to those precious little boys. And suddenly it becomes clear why Karen gave him hush money, and why she wanted him dead. She was both greedy and desperate after all.

  “Karen, the night of the murder, when Cormack suggested you dance with Duncan, you said you were going to track down your husband and leave, but you darted right out the back exit. You couldn’t get out of th
at room fast enough.”

  She blinks my way before forcing a laugh. “I’m a married woman, Lottie. I don’t dance with strange men.”

  “Maybe not. But Duncan wasn’t a stranger to you.”

  Pretty Boy barks. “We’d best go find Carlotta. She’s a good little guard girl, if you know what I mean. And I think you could use a little protection.”

  I shake my head, my gaze still pinned at the suspect at hand. “That day at the rental shop at Honey Lake? You thought it was refreshing that I had both a husband and a boyfriend. That’s because you would have loved to be out in the open with Duncan. Isn’t that right? Much like my boyfriend, your own boyfriend was the father of your children. Wasn’t he?”

  She gasps as her fingers fly to her mouth.

  “That’s why you were paying him hush money, wasn’t it? Duncan Spears gave you something precious, and you gave him hush money right up until he died. Isn’t that true?”

  Her eyes double in size. “Lottie, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Your husband has black hair and brown eyes, just like you. Those are dominant traits. Those twin boys don’t belong to Dennis Collier, do they? They belong to Duncan Spears. He sired your children, and then you paid him hush money to keep quiet. I’m guessing those infertility issues you mentioned to me a week ago had nothing to do with you and everything to do with your husband.”

  “We wanted a family,” she seethes. “And my husband was too proud to check his virility. But I suspected it, and I was right. I got my boys with a little help from a friend, so what? Dennis was against adoption. He said if God didn’t give us kids, then we weren’t getting any. And guess what? God came through.”

  “You lied about not knowing Daphne Spears. You knew Duncan’s wife well, and you called yourself her friend to her face while you were having an affair with her husband.”

  Her eyes squeeze shut. “Duncan slept with everything that moved. Their divorce was inevitable. Look, Lottie, I don’t know what you think you’re going to do with this information, but I’ll write you a check right now to make you forget all about it. I’ll protect my family any way I know how.”

  “Is that why you resorted to murder?”

  “What?” She backs away and looks genuinely affronted with the accusation. “I didn’t kill Duncan.”

  “Oh? But you had access to the vet’s office within any one of your stores, didn’t you? And the exact compound that was used to kill Duncan is commonly distributed at the vet’s.”

  “I’m sorry, Lottie, but you’ve got it wrong. I didn’t kill Duncan, and I don’t have access to the vet’s pharmaceutical supplies. And don’t you dare breathe a word of my children’s paternity to anyone, or you’ll be hearing from my lawyer if you do.” She darts in the direction of the restrooms, and Pretty Boy and I exchange a look.

  “What now, Lottie?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, who else would have access to the Posh Pet Stop?”

  “What about her husband?”

  I twitch my lips. “I guess he has a motive, too, but that would be cold-blooded to frame his wife so expertly, and poor Enya, and perhaps Henrick—even if it didn’t take a lot of framing.” I glance up and spot Lorelei at the dessert table, still noshing on a slice of my key lime pie while chatting away with Suze. “Wait a minute. Lorelei mentioned that she did some audit work or something with the pet stores. But why would she want Duncan dead? She has that fancy Flat Iron Ranch.”

  “Flat Iron?” he chuffs. “I’ve heard Duncan mention it before. He said something about the land having a disease. I believe he said it was cursed.”

  “Cursed?” I pull out my phone and do a quick search on the Flat Iron Ranch. “Oh, Pretty Boy,” I whisper as I look back up in the direction of the dessert table. “I think we have another suspect to question.”

  And my guess is the killer and this suspect are one and the same.

  Lottie

  Pretty Boy and I winnow our way through the crowd—or more to the point, I winnow my way through the crowd and Pretty Boy glides right through them.

  My mother and my sisters are off to the side, chatting away while looking like pastel flowers in their prim and pretty dresses.

  “Look, there she is!” Pretty Boy growls as we fast approach the dessert table near the back of the conservatory, right here at the B&B.

  “I see her,” I whisper. “I haven’t taken my eyes off Lorelei.”

  “I’m not talking about Lorelei,” he yips. “I’m talking about Carlotta. Goodness, do you have a leash on hand? I’m afraid I’m going to have to restrain her. The old girl just won’t stay put anymore.”

  “I’m all for leashing her. And oddly, I think she has an entire drawer full of restraints at home.”

  “Lot Lot!” Carlotta calls out as she pulls me close to Lorelei, of all people. “Dr. Lori and I were just having a little chitchat. She’s the one that heads up Little Yippy’s aerobics class. I told her all about how I dumped you at the fire department when you were just a wee one.”

  “And I’m still grateful,” I say as I look to Lorelei. “Would you mind if I had a quick word with you? I have a pressing question that I think you have the answer to.”

  “Not now, Lot,” Carlotta hisses. “She was just telling me that not all women are cut out to be mamas and that my need to panic once your squirmy little body fell out of mine was perfectly natural.”

  “Carlotta, you should see a therapist,” I whisper, and I mean it in the sincerest way. After experiencing all of those hormones after Lyla Nell was born, coupled with zero sleep, I can see how women can be brought to the brink.

  “That’s what I’m doing,” she harps. “Turns out, Loralee here was once in training to be a headhunter.”

  Lorelei wrinkles her nose. “I think you mean shrink.” She laughs as she looks my way. “It’s true, but when my husband up and left me, well, I didn’t have any more money left for school.”

  “That’s funny,” I say. “I could have sworn someone mentioned you were living high on the hog.” It was Enya, but I decide to leave her name out of it for now.

  “I wish.” She hitches a crimson lock behind her ear. “People believe what they want. If I was living high on the hog, I wouldn’t be running around like a loon just trying to make ends meet.”

  “That’s right,” I say. “You mentioned earlier this evening that it was much easier to be rich than poor. I take it you know this firsthand.”

  “That I do.”

  “Enya mentioned that you were the owner of the Flat Iron Ranch.”

  She averts her eyes. “So you’ve heard of it? Just my luck to have one solid thing attached to my name, and it turns out it was once an old dump for the chemical factory up the way. They leeched corrosive toxins into the stream that runs right through my property, and they did it for years. The neighbors have all banded together, and they’re actually suing me. Me. Can you believe it?”

  I nod. “Because they wanted you to tend to a costly cleanup. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yup.” She shakes her head. “I don’t have that kind of money. In fact, I’ve hired my own attorney to get me out of this.”

  Pretty Boy barks. “Get her with the zinger, Lottie. Watch and learn, Carlotta. If you’re good, you might just get a biscuit.”

  “That’s right,” I say to Lorelei. “It must be expensive to fight all of your legal woes. Is that why you started siphoning money from Duncan’s company?”

  Her eyes spring wide as silver dollars.

  “Lot Lot,” Carlotta smacks me on the arm. “I’m in the middle of unpacking some real baggage here.” She leans my way. “Those were her fancy words, not mine. But given the chance, I bet I’ll learn a whole lot of other new words as well. I might even talk fancy myself before the end of the night. Lay off the woman at least until she’s solved the puzzle that lives inside my brain.”

  I shake my head her way. “We don’t have that kind of time.”

  Carlotta threads her
arm through Lorelei’s. “Come on, Looky-loo. Let’s go somewhere private where we can continue our conversation. I believe you were telling me how wonderful and selfless I am.” She leads Lorelei right through the back exit and into the parking lot.

  Lorelei turns my way. “Lottie, are you following me?” She gives a few quick blinks.

  Pretty Boy snarls. “I’m going to get straight to biting her ankles.”

  “No, you don’t.” Carlotta tries her best to shoo him. “She might need to make a quick getaway. Lot’s got that crazy gleam in her eyes.”

  “Not her ankles,” Pretty Boy yips. “Yours.”

  Carlotta gives him a look that says someone here is going to need a rabies shot.

  “I’m sorry, Lottie.” Lorelei takes a breath. “But I think Carlotta deserves a little privacy if she’s going to get her true feelings out.”

  Carlotta clucks her tongue. “See that demented gleam in her eyes, Layla? She was a scary kid right from the get-go. It’s not hard to see why I needed to ditch her. My sanity was on the line.”

  “And somewhere along the way that line was severed,” I mutter. “Lorelei, you stole money from Duncan, and that’s why he was upset with you.”

  “That’s not true,” she says it in a pleading manner as if begging me to believe it.

  “It is true. The night of the murder, when I pointed out that I thought it might be a homicide, you said you needed to leave—that your nerves were starting to get jangled. It’s because you feared getting caught, wasn’t it? You didn’t think anyone would notice the fact Duncan dropped dead was anything but natural. But then you decided to double down and go after Britney. Why?”