Killer Cupcakes (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 14)

by Addison Moore

  “Now, now. No need to bring up past grievances like dead ex-boyfriends. You look adorable, by the way.” She pats me on the arm before waving to Noah and Everett who are already examining the plethora of items up for bid. “Have you and the mister had a little alone time?” Her shoulders do that annoying shimmy.

  “Mother.” I pull her farther from Noah and Everett. “No, not yet.” I glance back at Noah and note the fact he’s looking like the tall glass of detective he is. I’ve always had a wild attraction to him. I don’t know what I’m waiting for.

  “Well, thank you, Lottie, for expanding my horizons. I’m going to get out there and mingle. I’ve never seen a sea of gray-headed gents with more sophistication and style in one place. Ooh, I should call Chrissy and Becca and tell them to don their cowboy boots and scoot down to Dodge. Honestly, there are three men for every woman here, and that’s a rare treat in and of itself.”

  She quickly dissolves into the crowd just as an ethereal black cat saunters this way.

  “Looking lovely, Lottie,” he purrs through the alliteration. “I see you’ve chosen something subtle as not to detract from catching a killer. You do realize dressing like a homing beacon will repel those who prefer to lay low—say someone on the suspect list?”

  “Am I really getting this from you right now?”

  “I can always dole it out later.” His ebony fur sparkles in the night like a sea of black stars. “Who are we here to see?”

  “A woman by the name of Madeline Underwood.”

  “Excuse me?” an older woman calls from behind and I jump as I spin her way. “Did I hear someone call my name?”

  She’s tall, blue-eyed, with medium-length curly blonde hair, cherry-stained lips, and has a black and white floral slip dress on. If I had to guess, I’d say she was about my mother’s age, but she has nary a wrinkle to uphold my theory. It’s safe to say her face has been ironed out with the best of them.

  “Oh yes!” She shakes her head at me before I can answer. “You must be a part of the entourage we hired—Wild Bill’s harem. All entertainers are to remain in the back until the show begins. We won’t start that portion of the evening until everyone has been ushered under the big tent that houses the champagne and appetizers. There is to be no commingling with the guests.” She grabs me by the elbow and does her best to navigate me through the crowd, but I dig the heels of these rhinestone-laden cowboy boots I’ve donned into the ground and I’m not moving an inch.

  “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m a guest of Cormack Featherby’s.”

  “Mackie?”

  I knew she had some preppy nickname rattling around in her bourgeois closet.

  “Yes, Mackie. In fact, I was hoping to speak with you. Madeline is it?”

  “Mitzi, please. Any friend of Mackie’s is a friend of mine. I do hold the Featherbys in the highest regard. Now, what can I do for you?”

  I glance back and find Noah being accosted by Tacky Mackie, and I can’t help but scowl at her.

  Everett gives me a three-finger wave before pointing at the woman before me and I give a slight nod.

  “Mitzi, I have some shocking news for you. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Stephen Heartwood was murdered.”

  Her penciled in brows jump a notch.

  “Has he?” She averts her gaze. “Would it be terribly crass of me to say this doesn’t surprise me?”

  My mouth falls open. “No, actually.” I decide to go low. “It tells me you’ve met him before.”

  She belts out a laugh, and just like that, I’ve broken the ice in the most indelicate fashion.

  Thirteen lets out something just shy of a growl. “You should have met him in his younger years. He was quite the stick of dynamite. It’s a wonder he didn’t detonate sooner.” He laughs and it sounds like a yodel.

  I’d join him, but I’ve got a live one myself.

  Mitzi leans in close. “What happened to the fool? Let me guess. He married one widow too many and the last one caught onto his scheme?”

  “His scheme?” I don’t bother taking my next breath. I can’t afford to miss a word.

  “You know, marry the merry widow.” She says merry in air quotes. “Suck them dry for what they’re worth, then move right along. It turns out, I was wife number five.”

  “Five?” I balk at the audacity that man had to even be in the same airspace as my mother. Or as I bet as he liked to call her—number six.

  “Oh yes. But I didn’t know it at the time. We were married only a few short months. Then one morning he must have grown tired of the situation. He took what we had in our joint checking account and the cash I had hidden in the wall safe at home—enough to buy a small home—and I never heard from him again. I was so embarrassed, I didn’t dare tell a soul. But, now that he’s received his comeuppance, I’m feeling a bit justified.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Late spring.” She nods. “I don’t know where he went after that. Wait a minute… did you say Stephen Heartbright?”

  “Heartwood.”

  “Oh no, that’s a different man.”

  I doubt it.

  I whip out my phone and pull out a picture of him with my mother.

  “Does he look familiar?”

  “Oh yes, that’s him.” She huffs a quick breath at the picture. “And that floozy by his side looks exactly like someone gullible enough to fall for his deviousness.”

  “You might be right.” I’ll be the last to contest the idea. “But she’s free of him now. You all are.” I look over at this older woman who Pastor Gaines ripped off. I don’t care what his name is. That’s the pseudonym I’m sticking to for now. “I’d like to speak to someone else about him. Do you have any idea of who I might contact?” This is the first murder investigation without any significant leads. It’s as if whoever did this pulled off the perfect murder.

  “Let’s see…” She tips her head back to the sky. “Ah, yes. I actually met one of his ex-wives. I ran into her at a charity function not unlike this one. It was in Burlington. Her name is Elaine Gilmore.” Her expression sours.

  “Is there something specific you remember about her?” Judging by the fact she looks as if she’s about to be sick, I’d say yes.

  “Let’s just say they were a match made in—well, it wouldn’t be heaven, now would it?” She gives a sly wink and takes off.

  “Ha!” I look down at Thirteen. “She was a treasure trove.”

  “She looks familiar to me. Did she look familiar to you?”

  “No. I can’t imagine why she would.” I traipse back to Noah and Everett, choosing to ignore the fact Cormack is attempting to climb my husband like a jungle gym.

  Everett wraps an arm around me and pulls me in.

  “What did you glean, Lemon?”

  Noah leans in, nearly sending Cormack flying into a basket filled with cheeses from around the world.

  I spill everything I know like a rash of bullets from a machine gun.

  Thirteen taps my leg with his paw. “I just figured out why she looked so familiar.”

  A breath hitches in my throat. “Why did she look so familiar?”

  Cormack waves me off. “She was at the Haunted Honey Hollow kickoff. She was right there for the food fight. But once the cupcakes started flying, I didn’t get a chance to say hello.”

  Thirteen lets out an adorable roar. “That’s exactly why.”

  Noah gives a wistful shake of the head. “That places her at ground zero the day of the murder.”

  “Oh, Mitzi”—I whisper as I crane my neck into the crowd—“if you were hiding that, what else were you hiding from me?”

  Noah extricates me from Everett’s arms much to Cormack’s dismay.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers directly into my ear like a warm secret, and it makes my insides quiver with delight. “But we will find out together.”

  Chapter 9

  One might say that Haunted Honey Hollow month started
off with a spine-chilling bang considering it was kicked off with a murder, but that little homicidal detail hasn’t stopped the tourists from pouring into our sweet town by the droves.

  My mother’s B&B is filled to capacity, and according to Naomi so is the Evergreen Manor. She dropped by the bakery this afternoon to grab a cup of coffee with Keelie, and both Lily and I can’t stop ogling the two of them.

  The bakery is bustling, but there’s currently a lull at the register. I’ve been baking pumpkin spiced cupcakes all morning just to switch things up, and I’ve gone as far as pulling out my sensory secret weapon—pumpkin spiced cinnamon rolls. Nothing pulls the people right off of Main Street faster than the heady scent of luscious sweet cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. There is nothing quite like it.

  Lily bumps her shoulder to mine. “What do you think she wants?”

  “What does Naomi ever want? Blood. I’d say she was looking for her next virgin sacrifice, but don’t worry. It’s too late for you.”

  Lily scoffs. “It’s too late for you, too. And oddly enough, even though we’re safe, I’m not feeling so secure. I wouldn’t let her into the kitchen if I were you. She might just reenact the food fight that started it all.”

  “The one in front of the bakery? It didn’t start a thing. This is all Alex’s fault as far as I can tell. Why don’t the two of you draw straws to see which one gets to keep him and get back to the business of being best friends?”

  “That’s not how it works, Lottie, and you know it.”

  “In the least, get ahold of yourselves.”

  “You’re talking to the wrong party.”

  Keelie and Naomi get up at once and head over.

  Naomi blinks her china blue eyes at Lily. “Afternoon.” She turns my way. “Grandma Nell’s things are officially out of probate and we have the key to her house. Our mother has agreed to let Carlotta live there if it’s all right with you.”

  Lily chuckles. “That’s right. You have to ask permission from Lottie because she owns everything now.”

  It’s true. Last January my grandmother Nell, whom I didn’t have a clue I was related to at the time, left me the lion’s share of her estate. She left her three children each more than enough to live off and she even left a good chunk of change to her grandchildren, too, but she left all the real estate—and most of Honey Hollow was included in that deal—to me.

  “I’m totally fine with Carlotta living there. And I don’t have plans to sell or make any moves with anything I’ve inherited whatsoever. Everett told me to sit on everything for at least a year before making any big moves. That way I’ll have a moment to process all this.”

  Naomi sneers at her sister. “Hear that, Keels? She’s putting it all up on the market in one year’s time and cashing out. You can kiss the Honey Pot goodbye.”

  I shake my head at Keelie. “The Honey Pot isn’t going anywhere. Nothing is going anywhere.”

  Keelie makes a face at her sister. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Naomi is on her way to raid Grandma Nell’s house. I’m sure she’ll have it picked clean by midnight.”

  Naomi waves her off. “Only of the good things. I’ll tell Carlotta the news.” She takes off and Lily sighs.

  “It’s as if I wasn’t even visible.”

  Keelie shrugs. “Don’t worry.”

  Lily takes a breath. “You think she’ll get over it?”

  “No,” Keelie flatlines. “She’ll get even. I’d watch my back if I were you.” Keelie takes off just as an entire swarm of women in spandex prattle on over to the counter looking ravenous and focused on carbs.

  Lily tightens her apron. “Get the cupcakes ready, Lottie. We don’t want this mob to turn on us.”

  Britney and Cormack saunter in holding up the rear, and I groan at the sight of Cormack. They have matching blonde ponytails—save for Britney’s stray lock that protects her left eye as if it were the holy grail.

  Cormack rolls her eyes at the sight of me. I’d feel terrible for her, but no matter what seems to happen, she just doesn’t get that she and Noah aren’t a thing anymore.

  Britney steps up first. “Pumpkin spiced latte, hot, no whip.”

  Cormack lifts a finger. “Ditto for me.”

  Britney is the one responsible for the sweaty Bettys that just strolled in. Her Swift Cycle gym down the street just let out and she’s notorious for ushering them my way to replenish what few calories they lost.

  I quickly make up their drinks and slide them over.

  “Brit, one day, these ladies are going to catch on to the fact that the needle on the scale is traveling in the wrong direction no thanks to your devious practices.”

  A throaty laugh bubbles from her. “Not true, Lucia. I tell them often that muscle weighs more than fat—and they’re more than glad to see the progress they’re making.” She toasts me with the latte Lily just slid her way.

  Cormack leans in. “So what’s new with the case? Has the Big Boss made an arrest? I hear that mother of yours is as guilty as sin.”

  My lids lower a notch as I glare her way. “I can assure you of her innocence. Besides, she doesn’t even know how to hold a gun let alone fire one.”

  “Well, it was your gun that killed him.” Her eyes grow wild. “Maybe you did it, Luella. Maybe you pulled the trigger thinking it was me!”

  I blink back as if she just pulled a trigger herself.

  “Cormack, why would I want you dead?” Aside from the obvious.

  She tips her head back, her nostrils flaring at me. “Come now, drop the false pretenses. We both know you’ve been gunning to have both Noah and Essex as your suitors. It’s not only unfair to them, but it’s not fair to me. I can handle so much, but let it be known that I have a line and you’ve crossed it.” She looks to Britney. “I’ll be at the table by the window.” She takes off and I exhale hard in her wake.

  Britney nods. “She’s delusional. I realize this.” Her eye sharpens over mine. “But you do realize that sometimes those are the most dangerous people.” She takes off and I glance to Cormack who’s shooting me with daggers at the moment.

  Cormack is delusional, yes. But dangerous? Doubtful.

  The bell chimes and in comes my mother along with Chrissy Nash and Becca. Each one has her arms filled with a pumpkin centerpiece as they set them down on the counter.

  “Oh, these are gorgeous!” I say as I take in their stunning beauty. Each large orange pumpkin is hollowed out at the top and filled with sunflowers, gerbera daisies, yarrow, and chrysanthemums in every shade of gold and russet. “Thank you so much!”

  “You’re welcome!” Mom sings. “They should last about a week or so and then we’ll be by again to refresh them.”

  Becca nods. “Pumpkins and all.” My aunt Becca is Keelie and Naomi’s mother and she shares the same wide gorgeous eyes. But, as opposed to Keelie's blonde locks and Naomi’s onyx tresses, Becca dyes her hair a perfect shade of pumpkin both in and out of this fabulous season.

  “Yup.” Chrissy lands hers right on the counter next to the register and it looks perfect there. I’ve always felt bad for Chrissy since Mayor Nash, my unexpected father, never made a secret out of cheating on her. And even though I’ve known Chrissy forever, my half-siblings spent a majority of their time in boarding school, so I never really knew them growing up. “This little pet project is going to keep our horticulture club busy right up until Thanksgiving.” She sniffs the air. “Is that a cinnamon roll I smell? Oh, Lottie. You just sold half a dozen.”

  “They’re pumpkin spiced cinnamon rolls. And I’ll be glad to get you a fresh box.”

  Lily waves. “I’m on it, Lottie.”

  I look to my mother. “How did you like the Denim and Diamonds Charity Event the other night?”

  She makes a face. “I didn’t have any luck with the men.”

  Chrissy practically gags on her next words. “What are you talking about? You were just telling us all about Topper. If he’s not a catch, I don’t know who is.”

&nbs
p; My mother’s cheeks turn rosy as she takes a deep breath. “All right, I may not have been totally forthcoming with information. I did meet a very nice and handsome man named Topper Blakley. But that phone call he promised wasn’t what I expected. Instead of asking me out on a date, he asked if we could host a mixer for local seniors at the B&B. It turns out, he operates a dating app for silver foxes and gray panthers—his words, not mine.” Her lips crimp because obviously she found the proposition upsetting. “And here I envisioned him stealing me away for a fall picnic on Honey Lake. In my mind, I was already the next Mrs. Topper Blakley.” She frowns as she says it. “He’s high society in Fallbrook.”

  Chrissy hugs her good friend. “I happened to research his investment company and he’s worth millions.”

  “My mother doesn’t care about money,” I’m quick to point out. “It’s all about finding the right person to spend her golden years with.”

  Mom waves me off. “A little padding in the bank never hurts, Lottie. It doesn’t mean I’m a gold digger. It simply means the difference between having pizza at Mangias down the street or in Italy on the Spanish Steps.”

  My poor mother. “You’ll find the right person at the right time.”

  “Oh, I know I will,” she’s quick to agree. “I’ve agreed to host the senior fall mixer in the conservatory next Saturday. Please put some platters together for me. I’m having the Honey Pot cater the appetizers. If Topper doesn’t want me for himself, then I’ll simply move along and see who’s next. Who knows? I might even meet someone at the mixer.”

  I wince at the thought. “Maybe you should cool your heels,” I whisper. “You are under investigation for Pastor Gaines’ death.”

  She looks to Becca and averts her eyes as if the thought were ridiculous.

  “Pastor Gaines wasn’t even Pastor Gaines. Rumor has it, that man was trying to swindle me out of my money!”

  I decide to zip my lips on the matter lest I really make her blood boil.

  The three of them scoot down the counter and put in their orders with Lily.

  I’m about to head to the back when a handsome dark-haired devil strolls through the door and makes his way over. Noah’s dimples press in deep before he ever smiles.