Pancake Panic

by Addison Moore

  I give an audible gulp, almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

  “Tough luck.” He shakes his head in dismay. “I thought he’d see me through this nightmare, and that’s all he had for me.”

  Mom presses her hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry to hear it, Scooter. Hook Redwood is dating my youngest daughter. I’ll see if there’s anything he can do.”

  “I appreciate it, Miranda. At this rate, I’ll take all the help I can get.” He grunts as he looks back at the kitchen, “If I could go back in time, I’d kill Flip Alexander all over again.”

  Dad raises a brow my way.

  It certainly does imply Scooter has already done it once.

  My phone buzzes in my purse, and I dig it out to find a text from Carlotta.

  Found my missing Cat. She’s been incarcerated for petty theft. Get down to the Ashford Sheriff’s Department right now for deets on that receipt.

  “It looks like I’ve got to run,” I say, patting Scooter on the arm. “Take care. I’m sure it will all work out.”

  Mom glances to her phone as well. “I’ve got another busload of tourists coming to the B&B in fifteen minutes. I guess I’d better run, too. If those ghosts of mine don’t come back, this will be my very last tour. I just can’t take the disappointment on their unfrightened faces anymore.”

  Dad wraps an arm around her and laughs. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ll give them a fright they will never forget.”

  We say goodbye to Scooter, and I drop my parents off at the B&B.

  But I don’t go back to the bakery.

  I’m off to the Ashford Sheriff’s Department to play cat and mouse with a jailbird of a Canelli.

  Now if only I can get that caged bird to sing.

  Chapter 14

  The Ashford Sheriff’s Department is warm inside, despite its glacial atmosphere, rife with intimidation and a threatening weapons display that the deputies roaming freely don’t bother to hide from anyone. It’s a virtual white-out in here with its white walls and white floors, and the white desks and chairs give it a futuristic feel without meaning to.

  I’ll admit, I keep one eye peeled for the homicide detective who’s stolen my heart. But I don’t see Noah—or his partner, Ivy Fairbanks, for that matter.

  Instead, there is a smattering of deputies milling around, several secretaries filling out paperwork, and a couple of perpetrators with their hands cuffed behind their backs as they wait to be processed.

  Carlotta navigates us to the right where a deputy built like a tree clears us to see our favorite Canelli and we follow him as he unlocks a steel door that leads to the holding cells they have in the back of the facility. I’m a bit too familiar with these holding cells myself. I’ve been in them—on the wrong side of the bars.

  Carlotta smacks me on the shoulder. “Let me do the talking. She’s bound to be cranky. Nobody likes whiling away the hours, staring at their toes.”

  “Fine. But get to the point quickly. I have a bakery to run.”

  She squawks out a laugh so loud, the deputy in front of us reaches for his weapon.

  “Come on, Lot.” She’s right back to smacking me. “The only thing you run these days is your libido. You’re too busy chasing judges and men with badges to care about hocking some cookies.”

  “That is not true.” I scoff at the thought. “I wake up before the sun just to bake those cookies you’ve accused me of not caring to hock. And for the record, the judge and the man with the badge are chasing me.” My stomach sinks as the realization sets in. “Okay, fine, the man with the badge has had enough of my nonsense.”

  “And that’s the one you want, isn’t it?”

  “I want his friendship back in the least. He hates me.”

  The deputy stops cold and unlocks the cell in front of us.

  Carlotta leans in. “Remember, she’s not going to be happy. Best to let me handle this.”

  We scuttle forward, and sure enough there she is, Caterina Cat Canelli, sitting on the floor in what looks to be a yoga pose. Her jet-black hair is stacked on top of her head, her eyes are ringed in with dark kohl, her lips are slathered in their signature shade of fuchsia, and she’s wearing black from head to toe.

  “Well, look who the hot cop dragged in.” She struggles to get to her feet and blows the deputy a kiss as he locks us in with her. “Car-lotta. Get your face over here, girl.” She practically assaults her with a rather violent looking embrace. I’m pretty sure I just heard Carlotta’s spine snap in three different places. I bet that’s just another method the Canellis utilize to off their enemies. The embrace of death. God forbid she hug me, too. We’ll be dead on the floor before the deputy who happens to be checking his phone bothers to notice.

  Cat tosses Carlotta to the side.

  Her hot pink grin expands at the sight of me. “Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Sexy. I want every dirty detail of that honeymoon. I have no doubt a man like that knows how to use his equipment. I bet he’s got a few specialty moves that can make you sing like an angel long into the night. Ah heck, I bet it was all a little bit devilish.”

  A very real part of me is downright angry I didn’t take a honeymoon with Everett. I really do miss those specialty night moves of his. Everett can do things with his body—to my body that are perfectly illegal and perhaps medically restricted for some less fortunate souls.

  Cat is right.

  Essex Everett Baxter knows how to use his equipment.

  I clear my throat. “Never mind about me,” I say. “Are you okay? Do you need me to call Fiona?”

  Fiona Dagmeyer is not only one of Everett’s ex-girlfriends, she happens to be a defense attorney the Canelli women seem to favor.

  “No way, no how.” She waves me off. “I’m here on sabbatical.”

  I glance to Carlotta who seems to be nodding into this ludicrous idea, and it dawns on me that neither woman knows the meaning of the word.

  Carlotta gives a wistful shake of the head. “A girl needs a break every now and again.”

  Cat lifts a finger. “That and protection. The Lazzaris are still after me.”

  Carlotta sucks in a breath. “They’ve still got a hit out on you?”

  “That’s right.” Cat slaps her hands over her bottom so hard, it sounds like a punishment. “They got a little too close for comfort this time. And since I couldn’t go to your place, I had to get creative as far as finding a little refuge.”

  “What?” I practically stagger forward. “You mean you’re in here on purpose?”

  “You bet your granny panties I am.”

  My mouth falls open.

  Hey? How does she know what kind of underwear I prefer?

  “I get it.” Carlotta starts in on an exaggerated nod. “I’m pickin’ up what you’re layin’ down.”

  I make a face at her. “Why are you talking like that?”

  Cat pulls my lingually challenged bio mother over. “Spider here is from the street.”

  “Spider? The street?” I’m not sure which one to laugh at first. “Carlotta grew up the daughter of a land baron in Honey Hollow. And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t do spiders.”

  “That’s because she is one.” Cat smacks Carlotta so hard on the back, at this rate she’ll be in traction before we ever get to the hitman nitty-gritty.

  I toss my hands in the air. “Okay, I accept.” Honestly? I don’t have all day to listen to these two lob riddles at one another. “Spider, pull the receipt out and let the pro do her thing.”

  Carlotta digs out the copy of the paper I gave her and hands it over to Cat.

  I watch as Cat’s features contort in all sorts of interesting angles.

  “Ha-ha! That’s my boys. A five K loan at thirty-two percent interest. Due in full in just three months. I’m telling you, they’re raking it in hand over fist.”

  “Lovely,” I say. “Are you saying this is for a bona fide loan?”

  “Yuppers.” Cat runs her finger down the page. “It’s all here. All the glorious deet
s.” She snaps her middle finger over the center of the page and it sounds like a gunshot.

  “Everything all right?” the deputy barks, hand on his weapon once again.

  “Sure thing.” Cat winks over at him with her thick lashes. “You come in later and I’ll give you a demonstration of all the noises I’m capable of making.”

  He gives a wink right back before turning around.

  “Wait a minute,” I say, taking the paper from her. “But this is for a hit,” I insist. “Flip was killed by a pro. And if the Canelli brothers are anything, they’re pros.”

  “That they are, my friend.” She snatches the paper right back. “That they are.” She squints up in the upper right hand corner. “You’re right. Code two.” She flicks the page once again. “Code one is traditional financing. Code two is—” She slits her throat with her finger. “It’s a cover. You can’t just write up a receipt for anything these days. But don’t worry. This is legit. It’s a loan for a hit. Happens all the time.”

  “Really?” My heart ratchets right up into my throat at the prospect of holding such sensitive evidence.

  Cat twists the paper as if she were breaking its neck and smacks me on the head with it. “No, not really. My boys don’t do those things,” she shouts while looking at the deputy outside her cell.

  Carlotta is quick to pluck me out of Cat’s reach. “Play nice, Caterina, and she just might bake you a cake with a knife in it.”

  “Carlotta, did you bring her here to frame me?” She turns my way. “What’s a matter, Mrs. Sexy? You drumming up business for the hubby? How dare you ask me if the men in my family are killers.” She gives a little wink and leans in. “I gotta put on a show, if you know what I mean. I’m in here to catch a break, not take down half my family.” She unfurls the paper once again. “I’ll call Jimmy once I get out and ask the important questions.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Carlotta reaches over and slugs me on the arm. “Don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you, kiddo.”

  “Ouch,” I say, rubbing my arm. “Yeah, you gave me a bruise.”

  “And I’m giving you a steamy second to spend with a hot homicide detective if you’re smart.” Carlotta gives me a shove toward the door. “Let this girl out. I’ll need another five minutes with the perp.” She gives Cat a playful wink.

  The deputy lets me out, and the guard at the door ushers me back in the precinct.

  My feet carry me toward Noah’s office, and they feel like traitors. This was Carlotta’s idea, and that alone should give me pause. Carlotta Sawyer is rife with bad ideas. There is not one time when I thought I should take her advice, and yet here I am practically trotting my way to Detective Fox.

  Noah’s office comes up, and I demand my feet bypass it. I can practically feel the heat emanating from his door as I stride on by.

  “Lottie?” Noah shouts, and I freeze as I squeeze my eyes shut. “Lottie Lemon?” His voice is warm and playful as he calls to me from the door this time.

  I pivot on my heels and turn around. Here he is, tall, dark, and far too handsome.

  “Noah?” It comes out with feigned surprise. “I’m here with Carlotta. She’s in the holding pen with Cat.” I clamp my lips shut before I accidentally accuse the entire Canelli clan of Flip’s murder.

  Noah reaches over and reels me in by the fingers. “Come in.” He ticks his head toward his office, and in a moment I’m inside and he shuts the door behind me.

  Noah lands his arm to the wall, penning me in with his body, and I can feel an inferno emanating from him, warming me from my head to my toes. His hair is glossy, that scruff peppering his cheeks gives him a mean appeal, and those verdant green eyes of his pierce mine. My stomach bisects with heat just being this close to him, and I can feel my heart rate rising to dangerous levels.

  His dimples twitch in and out as if he were amused. “I’m glad you stopped by. Even if it wasn’t to see me.” He glances down. “But I might just have to arrest you.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “You negated to bring a box of my favorite cookies. That’s practically criminal.”

  My lips twist in a crooked smile. “I’m glad I’m still capable of bringing you some joy.”

  A pained look comes over his face as he brushes the hair from my eyes. “You always bring me joy, Lottie.”

  I clear my throat. “You never did say why Cormack is faking a pregnancy, although I can surmise where she got the idea.” I shrink a little when I say that last part. But in my defense, I had his health to uphold.

  Noah moans, “That’s because we were rudely interrupted. Lottie, I never slept with Cormack, but she can’t seem to figure that out.”

  Noah never slept with her.

  A burst of relief fills me, and my body breaks out into a sweat all at once as if I narrowly escaped a burning building.

  My chest bucks as I take a breath. “Well, there’s a plot twist I wasn’t expecting.”

  Noah’s brows hitch to the ceiling. “Believe me, I’ve been there.”

  A dull laugh bubbles from me. “Can you believe all we’ve been through this last year?”

  He ticks his head to the side. “It’s a miracle you’re still willing to stand in my presence.”

  “It’s a miracle Cormack isn’t standing here with us.”

  He grimaces as he glances out the frosted glass window. “Maybe don’t say that out loud.”

  We share a quiet laugh.

  The look of agony returns to his eyes. “So you’re really married to Everett now.”

  I press my lips together so hard my face goes numb as I nod.

  Noah sighs as he glances to the ground. “That’s a tough one, Lot.”

  “It’s in name only, Noah,” I whisper. “But if you can’t look past that, I guess I’ll have to understand.”

  Noah’s chest expands the size of the door. “So, who’s next on your suspect list?”

  Every cell in my body sags with defeat. As much as Everett himself was championing for Noah and me to give it another shot, I doubt Noah will let that happen.

  “I don’t know. How about you?”

  He leans in, our lips just a breath away. “I thought I’d talk to the wife again.”

  “Lisa?”

  He nods. “You want to join me?”

  I inch back, pleasantly surprised by the offer. “Are you asking me to do a ride along?”

  “Only if you’re in the mood to load up on a few paperbacks. Lisa owns a used bookshop just a few blocks away. Shall we?”

  “What about Carlotta? I’m her ride home.”

  “We’ll bring her along. It’ll be fun.”

  A dark laugh brews in my chest. “Famous last words, Detective. And words I’m guessing you’ll soon eat.”

  “Good thing I didn’t have lunch.”

  And just like that, Carlotta and I pile into Noah’s truck in hopes to catch a killer.

  Chapter 15

  “I like dirty books and I cannot lie!” Carlotta warbles as she tosses errant paperbacks into an old rickety shopping cart while Noah and I stand there in awe of her indiscriminate taste of novels. I don’t think she’s read the back of a single novel she’s picked up. She simply ogles the partially dressed men on the cover and in they go.

  “I guess it’s safe to say you really don’t judge a book by its cover,” I say.

  Carlotta harps out a husky laugh. “What’s to judge? I abide by the golden rule of literature. If there’s a hottie—the book is naughty. Besides, I’ll need a paperback or twelve for the drive out to New York tomorrow for the big transmundane convention. You haven’t forgotten about it, have you, Lottie?”

  “Nope.” I shrug over at Noah. “I thought I’d give it another shot and see if I can actually learn something this time.”

  Noah suddenly looks afraid for me. “Lottie, be careful. If someone finds out there’s a room full of people who can see the dead, who knows what’s liable to happen.”

  Carlotta waves
him off. “People always claim they can see the dead. And they not only have conventions, they’ve got a holiday. It’s called Halloween. We’re talking New York City. We could walk around nude, shouting at ghosts at the top of our lungs. Nobody will even blink.”

  Noah chuckles before his affect falls flat once again as he looks my way. “Do me a favor and bring your gun along for the ride, would you?”

  “Are you kidding?” I quip. “Ethel is just as excited to see the city as I am.” I shoot Carlotta a look because I know she has as much capability to do as much damage if not more than my lean, mean fighting machine. “Noah and I will be just a few aisles away. Try to behave.”

  Bargain Book Utopia is less than a ten-minute drive from the precinct and Carlotta was more than willing to join in on our shenanigans.

  The secondhand bookshop looks far more cosmopolitan than it ever does like a secondhand store for ratty old paperbacks. Inside, it’s spacious with clean white walls, gray wooden floors, and the entire place is lined with tables with boxes filled with books.

  In the back, there are rows and rows of bookshelves brimming with a million portals to another realm. That’s always been the appeal of a bookstore for me, secondhand or not. There are so many universes under one roof. I could easily get lost in here for days. The intoxicating scent of parchment sends my senses reeling as if it were the finest wine.

  Truly, Carlotta and I are cut from the same cloth as far as being in our happy place while diving into the deep end of the book bins.

  And the pièce de résistance? Every book costs just a dollar.

  That’s right.

  A dollar.

  “Slow down, Noah,” I say as we pass a bin brimming with country western romances. “We need to make this look real. We can’t just barge up front and shake her by her collar in hopes the answers fall to our feet.”

  “I don’t need to shake anyone. I’ve got a badge.”

  I pull a paperback out of the bin with a picture of a cowboy on the cover staring at a tangerine sunset.

  “And I’ve got a red-hot country romance that’s already making my heart go pitter-patter.” I scoop up three more before he can reply. “Every now and again I just need a good book, you know? There’s just something about a country setting that gets me every time.”