Poison Apple Crisp

by Addison Moore

  “No to both, but I don’t expect that kind of treatment every day.” Everett gave me a total body massage all on his own this morning, but I don’t feel like sharing that info. “Everett made me coffee,” I say. “And Noah just took off for work like he usually does. I guess they’re used to the idea of me being knocked up by now. Things are getting back to normal.”

  “Nothing is ever going to get back to normal, Lottie,” she’s quick to inform me, and we both sigh at the thought. “Hey?” She perks up. “I heard about that Hannah chick and her booty-ful buns workout. Hannah Beckham of the Beckham Butt Lift fame? Naomi and I are going out later today and buying brand new workout gear so we can partake properly. Expect to see us on the front lawn with the sun. We’re so excited, I think this is actually repairing our relationship.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Lily and Naomi have been feuding ever since they both thought it was a good idea to date the same man. The man in question was Noah’s brother, Alex, and he’s since moved on to greener younger pastures.

  I make a face. “Is it wrong that I’m praying for rain?”

  Lily laughs. “What’s the matter, Lottie? Afraid Noah and Everett are suddenly going to develop a wandering eye? Don’t worry. You could morph into Godzilla and they’d still be fighting over you. Plus, you’ve hooked them with that baby. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that with Alex while I had the chance. We could have been sisters-in-law.”

  “I’m married to Everett.”

  “Sure you are.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t fret, Lot. You don’t have to keep your special arrangement a secret from me. I overheard Everett and Noah the other day talking about building a house together to make things easier.”

  “I think they were talking about the house that Hannah hijacked with her promises of a butt lift. It’s pretty much off the table now. Come to think of it, I should have fought harder when I had the chance.”

  Lily chuckles. “I’ve never seen you so insecure. It’s probably a side effect of having your own hot little bun in the oven. Try not to get too worked up.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have fifty women ready and willing to moon your other half.”

  “Or in your case, other halves.”

  The next few hours drift by with my thoughts all in a jumble. I’m not really insecure, am I? Lily is right. I’m never that way. Or at least I wasn’t before I found myself in a bun-cooking predicament. And who cares if I start to look like a deep-fried pickle, a jelly roll, a cream puff, or all of the above?

  Okay, fine. I guess deep down, I care. But that doesn’t stop me from indulging in a couple of fresh fried crullers. And boy, are they ever delicious.

  Carlotta and Evie pop in. Carlotta has her hair up in a ponytail, a look I’m not used to on her, and she seems to be wearing workout clothes of some sort, an old pair of my pink sweats and a baggy shirt that says Margaritas because it’s Mexico somewhere. And Evie has on her black yoga pants and matching formfitting jacket. Her long dark hair is pulled into a messy bun, and her cheeks look piqued.

  “Evie!” I hop over and give her a firm embrace. “How was practice?”

  “Great. Tryouts are next Friday.”

  “Oh, I’m so excited for you. I’ve seen you run through your routines out on the driveway and you’re amazing. I just know you’re going to make the team.”

  Carlotta gives Evie a knowing look. “Oh, she’ll make the team, all right.”

  A smug grin takes over Evie’s face. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve got this one in the b-a-g.”

  “Why do I not like the way this sounds?”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket before I can needle them both with a proper inquisition, and I fish it out. “It’s a text from Lainey! Aw,” I coo at the screen. “She wants to know if I’d send over a box of cookies and donuts. She misses real food.”

  “I’ll do it, Lot,” Carlotta offers.

  “I’m going, too,” Evie insists. “I need to see that baby again.”

  “You can’t keep me away either.” Just before I can ask Lily to man the fort, Cokie Hickman saunters into the place with her auburn hair looking windblown.

  “Whew!” She gives a little laugh as she forks her fingers through her tangled tresses. “It’s really fall out there.” She nods to the pumpkin and the silk autumn leaves I’ve got strung up over the bakery shelves. “And it’s autumn in here, too. How are you feeling, Lottie?”

  “So much better,” I say. “I’m really sorry you had to see that.”

  “Not to worry, I know all about morning sickness.” She leans in. “And that whole morning business is the first lie they feed you.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” We share a quick laugh over that one. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I just ran by the B&B and let your mother know we’ll be hosting the final fundraiser at the campus instead. We did a little survey of the parents and they’re beginning to experience a bit of burnout, so we’re going to have a simple silent auction on back-to-school night. That way the kids can be there, too. I imagine they’ll influence their parents on what to bid on as well.”

  “Cool.” Evie hops with enthusiasm. “I’d much rather shop than sit with my parents while my teachers drone on.”

  “She doesn’t mean it.” I give a nervous laugh before shaking my head at Evie. “And I think that’s a great idea about the auction. I’ll gladly donate some sweet treats for the event. It’s my pleasure.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Her brows pinch as if she were genuinely grateful.

  “And don’t worry. I won’t include any apple crisps.”

  She lifts a hand. “Please do. So many parents were looking for them the other night at the B&B. I don’t think anyone connects them with what happened to Brenda. And I can’t wait to bite into one. Actually, I’ll take a dozen individual apple crisps right now, along with a box of cookies while I’m here. I may as well finish the day off right.”

  I quickly box those up for her, and Lily handles the transaction at the register.

  Rachelle runs through my mind and that all but blatant accusation that Cokie was the one who broke into my house and stole my book.

  “Cokie?” I tip my head to the side. “Any whisperings on what could have happened to that book?”

  She takes a deep breath. “The one that was brazenly stolen from your house?” She shakes her head. “I’m betting it’s long gone.”

  “Strange that someone would go through all that trouble—risk a felony offense, just to take off with a copy of it.”

  “Signed copy,” she notes. “I suppose they really wanted it.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, if they really wanted it, they could have made sure they were the highest bidder at the silent auction.”

  “That’s true. We expected that item to be a very big ticket seller. My guess is they couldn’t afford to have a financial showdown with anyone.”

  “That’s a good theory.” But one I bet isn’t correct. “I know that on the night of the murder, Brenda said the school received the book from an anonymous donor. Can I ask if you could divulge who that anonymous donor was?”

  Now that information might just get me some traction in the right direction. Who knows? It might even lead to who killed Brenda. And God knows I need some traction in just about any direction. I haven’t exactly been on my A game as of late. More like my B game—B as in baby.

  A sly smile creeps up Cokie’s lips. “It was Brenda who provided the book.” She nods. “I asked her myself just a few minutes before she took the podium.”

  “Brenda?” I try to process this. “Maybe she meant the anonymous donor gave it to her?”

  She shakes her head. “She point-blank told me there wasn’t an anonymous donor. I had wanted to thank them.” She shrugs. “Brenda was insistent that the book belonged to her and her alone.” She collects her pink boxes brimming with goodies. “I’ll see you girls later.” She starts to take off before looking back my
way and nodding me over a few feet, out of earshot of Evie presumably. “Brenda did say something—in jest—or at least I thought so at the time.”

  “What did she say?”

  “When I insisted she tell me the truth about where it came from, she laughed and said she stole it.”

  “Stole it?” I inch back. “That’s interesting.”

  She hikes her shoulders. “I wasn’t going to say anything because it sounds so silly. Brenda was a lot of things—cruel yes, but a thief? I really wouldn’t have pegged her for such. Have a good night, Lottie. I’ll see you at back-to-school night.” She takes off, and I ponder this new information.

  Maybe Brenda really did steal that book?

  And just maybe she stole it from the person who saw fit to end her life.

  Lainey lives on Maple Leaf Drive, exactly two blocks away from Country Cottage Road where I’m currently living. She and Forest bought an adorable house with a white picket fence and a bright red door, much like my rental, but they have a second level and much more room for their expanding family.

  Carlotta, Evie, and I each come bearing a box of sweet treats, and as soon as we hit the front door, Lainey swings it open, holding that little pink peanut in her arms who seems to be fast asleep.

  The three of us coo in unison, and soon we’re all seated in the living room, nice and toasty no thanks to the fire she has going. Lainey has a fancy candle burning as well, and the entire house smells like pumpkin waffles.

  “Oh, Lainey!” I moan as I look at the tiny little angel as she hands her off to Evie. “My heart just bursts with joy each time I see her. She’s grown so much in just a few days.”

  “Really?” My sister squints over at her. “I can’t tell.”

  “Are we going to wake her?” I ask just above a whisper.

  Lainey waves the idea off. “A lawnmower in the living room couldn’t wake her now if it wanted. Come back at three in the morning, the hoot of an owl in another state is bound to send her wailing.”

  We share a laugh on my poor, exhausted sister’s behalf.

  Both Lainey and I have caramel-colored locks and hazel eyes. In fact, we look so much like blood sisters I never really bought that whole adoption story my parents fed me as a kid. If anything, I thought they got their daughters mixed up because Meg is the one that’s been the odd one out.

  Lainey’s hair is frizzy and uncombed. Her skin looks luminescent, but she does have dark circles under her eyes and her sweatshirt has a few stains over it. I’m guessing the candle was lit in haste because she doesn’t exactly smell like a rose. But that sweet baby... now she smells like a tiny piece of paradise pie.

  “Come on, greedy.” Carlotta flicks her fingers until Evie lands little Josie into her arms. “Oh, ho, ho, ho. Lookie who’s gotcha now, kid? It’s your old Auntie Carlotta. I’ll be here if you’re ever in the need of wise counsel.”

  “Beware, Josie, she’s chock-full of bad advice,” I say, and Carlotta does her best to kick me.

  “Don’t you listen to Lot Lot. She’s chock-full of a cutie pie just like you, and that cutie has been nibbling on her brain as a snack. But that kiddo will be here soon enough, and the two of you will be up to no good together. That’s the best part about having cousins. You get to share everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

  Tears come to my eyes just thinking about it.

  “Aw,” Lainey coos. “I hope they’re just as close as we are. So how are you feeling, Lottie? You look so put together and cute, I must look like a beast to you guys.”

  “You are glowing,” I’m quick to tell her. “And I am, well, growing. All I do is pee, cry, and puke.”

  Evie nudges me. “Don’t forget the fried pickles.”

  “Ooh, thanks for reminding me.” I pull the smallest box forward, and I quickly offer Lainey my new deep-fried specialty. “Go on, give it a try. They’re amazing. And if you eat one with a jelly donut, they’re even better.”

  Lainey grunts. “No offense, Lottie, but I think I’ll pass. I’m sure Forest will gobble them up, though. The meal train from church has died down, and we’re left to our devices.”

  “I’ll make sure to bring by some Wicked Wok,” I offer. “And Mangias.”

  Carlotta nods. “And I’ll make sure to tell Miranda to get her butt back in the kitchen and whip up some casseroles for you.”

  Lainey laughs as she opens another box of my sweet treats. “Ooh, donuts. Now we’re talking.” She pulls out an apple fritter and moans through a bite. “Oh man, this is good. I’m putting in a running order for a box a day.”

  “Your wish is my command. I can’t seem to get enough donuts lately myself.”

  “Hey,” Evie leans my way, “Uncle Noah is a cop, and cops love donuts. Maybe that means the baby is his?”

  Carlotta nods. “Now you’re onto something, kid.” She looks my way. “What kinds of things have you been craving that might make the paternity pendulum swing toward Mr. Sexy?”

  Evie gags. “If you’re not going to call him by his name, please refer to him as Judge Baxter in my presence.”

  “Sorry, kid,” Carlotta bleats. “But as far as your daddy goes, that might as well be his legal moniker. He’s as hot as an iron skillet in a furnace, and that, my friend, will be your cross to bear.”

  “Well, Lottie?” Lainey bobs her head my way. “What about Everett? Craving anything that might give a hint that he’s the baby daddy.”

  “Actually, I have been craving something.” I lift my chin and give a frenetic nod in lieu of spelling it out for them. “Something he specializes in and is well known for.”

  “Gross.” Evie sticks her fingers into her ears, and I take advantage of it.

  “It’s like I can’t get enough. Not even the move he dubbed the cure has done anything to slow me down. I’m as insatiable with my donuts as I am with his body.”

  “La la la!” Evie sings, and I give her a pat on the knee.

  Lainey takes a breath. “That sounds about right. I was the same way. Poor Forest. He couldn’t catch a break. Not that he wanted one. And, of course, I cried, peed, and puked my way through every second of it. I had weird cravings, too. Anchovies, oily bitter olives, sardines, and I needed ranch dressing on everything I ate.”

  “That all sounds so delicious.” A husky moan comes from me. “I think I’m going to have all of the above for dinner.”

  “Bleh.” Evie looks ill just thinking about it. “You’re not allowed in my room anymore.”

  Carlotta blows the baby a kiss. “Let’s talk about something that doesn’t involve salty fish or the fact you-know-who can’t handle the bedroom detail anymore.”

  “Carlotta,” I hiss just above a whisper. “That is not what I said.”

  Evie shrugs. “It’s sort of what you said. I’m a witness.”

  Lainey giggles. “So what’s going on with the case, Lot? I heard someone ate one of your apple crisps and dropped dead at a big fundraiser.” She peers into one of my bakery boxes. “Ooh! Apple crisps.” She pulls one out and waves it at me. “You’re not trying to off me, are you, Lottie?” She takes a bite without waiting for an answer. “So come on. Fill me in on the deadly details.”

  I do just that, and I tell her all about the book that was stolen from me, too.

  Lainey shudders. “So scary.”

  “It sure is,” I say. “Carlotta, may I please have my sweet little niece?”

  Carlotta lands the sleeping angel gingerly in my arms and I gasp.

  “Lainey, she’s still lighter than air,” I coo at the tiny pink princess. “Look at her tiny nose, her rosy cheeks, and ruby red lips—she’s just perfect. And would you look at the pale hair? She’s a towhead.” I lean in a notch. “Oh my sweet word, you are so very precious.”

  “That she is. It never gets old.” Lainey sighs as she grabs another donut out of the box. “I can’t believe you had a break-in. I bet Noah is beside himself that someone actually penetrated Fort Fox. But I guess if you leave the door unlocke
d, just about anyone can stroll on in—even a thief.”

  Evie nods. “My dad was pretty upset with himself, too. I grabbed a copy of that book at the library. Desmond Meadows was a real nut job.”

  “Desmond Meadows?” Lainey shudders. “I remember when all that went down a few years ago. That’s the guy who killed his wife and made his girlfriend clean up the mess, right?”

  Evie shakes her head. “The girlfriend claims she never saw a body.”

  “Pfft.” Carlotta snickers. “That’s what they all say. She was just trying to lessen her time in the big house. I’d bet money she helped chop that woman to pieces.”

  Evie gags. “I bet you’re right, Carlotta. And just like you said, you’re always right about everything.”

  “Carlotta,” I say. “It’s not nice to poison the mind of a youth.” I’m teasing more or less—less being the greater of the two in this situation.

  Lainey wags a donut at her. “Meg sent me the pictures. You guys are a riot.” She looks to Evie. “Did those girls need their parents’ consent for that?”

  “Parents’ consent for what?” I squawk as loud as I can without waking the baby.

  Lainey opens her mouth to say something, and Carlotta quickly plucks the angel out of my arms and gently lands her back to her mama.

  “It’s been real, Lainey.” She leans in. “Hush, little baby—and, Mama, don’t you say a word. But that baby’s gotta eat.” She snatches a fried pickle out of the box and shoves it into my mouth before navigating me all the way in the driver’s seat of my car. “It’s a brisk night. I think Evie Stevie and I are going to hoof it.” They take off, and I shake my head in their wake.

  Carlotta is up to no good, and whatever she’s up to, she’s dragged poor Evie into it. And by the sound of it, Evie’s friends are in peril as well.

  I shoot a text to Everett. Parent conference. You and I regarding the effect Carlotta is having on our daughter. You up for takeout?

  He texts right back. I’m in. About to leave the courthouse. I’ll pick up dinner.

  My phone pings again, but it’s not Everett. It’s Noah.