Pancake Panic

by Addison Moore

  “Meg?” I trot over to where both Meg and Lainey hover near one of my mother’s infamous cutouts. “Who the heck is defacing our mother at her own birthday party?”

  Lainey waves me off while she gets to the business of popping a party hat onto our mother’s countenance.

  “We’ve both been doing it.” Lainey snatches the marker from Meg and gives it to me. “Come on, Lot. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  “Huh,” I say, leaning into inspect my mother’s flat face. “You didn’t really leave me much room to work with, did you?” I tease as I draw a little heart on my mother’s right cheek and a rainbow coming off of it. “There. Now she can blame all three of us.”

  A hearty bout of decidedly male laughter comes from my right just as my father floats over.

  “Would you look at this?” He pats me on the shoulder. “My sweet daughters having a little fun at their mother’s expense. Nothing has changed, has it?”

  I give a coy shake of the head.

  Dad leans in and whispers, “Ask Lainey how the baby’s doing.”

  “Hey, Lainey, how’s the pregnancy going?” I wince as I ask. I know for a fact Lainey has kept a bucket next to her desk at the library in the event she can’t make it to the bathroom. “Still sick?”

  “Yup, still upchucking your cookies, Lottie. But Dr. Barnette says I should be feeling the baby kick any day now.”

  “Lainey, that’s wonderful!” I squeal at the news. “You have to call me right when it happens. I want to share this with you as much as I can.”

  “Aw.” Lainey looks as if she could cry. “I will for sure. But if it’s late, I’ll text. In no way do I want to wake you up at one in the morning. You have a bakery to open.”

  “I won’t for long if the customers keep avoiding me.”

  Meg grunts, “Don’t worry, Lot. You know that photographer that took the infamous picture of you? He does freelance, and I’ve hired him to be here tonight. As soon as he arrives, I’ll make sure he never takes another picture again.”

  Just the thought sends me in a panic. “Oh no, don’t do that. They’ll think I’m a murderer and a knee breaker. I’ll talk to him, though.”

  “Talk to who?” a deep voice strums from my left and I look over to find a tall, dark, and far too handsome to ever be safe judge looking mean and lean and ready to steal me away for good.

  Meg nods up at him. “That reporter who singlehandedly killed my sister’s business. He’ll be here as the official photographer. And even though Lot asked me not to rearrange his face, I might just make sure his car has a few flat tires. It’s the least I could do.”

  Everett’s chest expands, and the muscles in his jaw pop with tension.

  “I’ll take care of him.” He sheds a short-lived smile. With Everett, the smiles can be just as dangerous as his scowls. “Don’t worry, Lemon. I have a feeling the Honey Hollow Hive will do a glowing review of your bakery in the very near future.”

  A flash goes off somewhere in the blooming crowd and Everett cranes his neck.

  “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I think I see my victim now.” He takes off into the thicket of bodies blooming around us.

  “I’d better get the cake into place,” I say, excusing myself from my sisters.

  It takes a little muscle to navigate myself through the crowd, and just as I hit the mouth of the conservatory, I bump into a tall, extraordinarily good-looking man who has both stolen and broken my heart on a loop.

  “Noah.” I offer him a hearty embrace and take in his woodsy cologne as if it contained the oxygen I needed to breathe. “I’m so glad you came.” I pull back with spontaneous tears in my eyes. “I’ve hardly seen you all week. Why do I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me?”

  Noah exhales hard as if it were true. “I’m sorry, Lottie. I’m not trying to avoid you. God, no. That’s the last thing I want to do.” He presses his hand into the small of my back as he leads me into the reception area of the B&B, where it’s quiet and there is hardly a living soul wandering the vicinity. The dampened level of noise feels like respite for my ears. “Everett sent me a picture.”

  “A picture?” I ask, leaning in and stealing a moment to brush my fingers over the scruff on his cheek. “Is this regarding the case?”

  Flip Alexander’s killer is still roaming free and time seems to be passing in a torrent.

  “The killer?” He inches back as if he’s never heard of the homicide investigation he’s in charge of. “No.” He sheds a light laugh. “It’s about this.” He pulls out his phone, and I’m greeted with an image of me lying in Everett’s arms, the good judge himself winking at the camera.

  “Oh, that,” I say dismissively before I realize what’s truly happening. “Oh, that.” I close my eyes a moment. “I went to New York with Carlotta for a transmundane convention. Everett said he overheard Jennifer Norman at the courthouse say she was having dinner at Underwood’s in the city that night. And, since he knew I was looking into a few things, Everett made reservations at the restaurant. He also got a room and invited Carlotta and me to stay with him.” I hike my shoulders to my ears. “Okay, fine. Carlotta declined and went back to the roach motel. But before you say anything else, just know I made the right decision. Carlotta got scabies and has had to see the doctor twice this week. She’s fine now, by the way.”

  Noah gives a soft chuckle. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t want you to get scabies.” He frowns at the phone. “But something tells me this might be worse.”

  “I’m so sorry. Nothing happened between Everett and me.” I spot the handsome devil now and I quickly wave him over. “Please assure Noah that nothing happened that night in New York.”

  Everett blinks in disbelief as he looks to his old stepbrother. “If Lemon says nothing happened, that should be enough for you.” There’s a curtness in his tone that almost always spells out trouble between these two.

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Noah gives it right back just as aggressive.

  Everett’s chest pumps with a dry laugh. “You did something to put her on the defense. Word to the unwise, you don’t make a woman feel as if she needs to defend herself.”

  “Save it.” Noah bites the air with his caustic comeback. “I don’t need any words of advice from you.”

  Everett balks as if he’s heard the most outlandish thing. “The hell you don’t. Look, what Lemon and I have is a business arrangement as far as the marriage goes. I meant what I said last summer when I encouraged the two of you to feel things out. You had an abrupt falling away when your wife came into town and you never got a chance to see where things would go.”

  Noah folds his enormous arms across his chest, cocking his head to the side as he casts a suspicious look to Everett.

  “And why exactly are you trying to push Lottie and me together?” Noah’s dimples go off as he squints at him. “It’s because deep down, you know I’ll mess up.”

  Everett shakes his head with a look of disdain. “You said it. Not me.”

  “Okay, okay!” I plant a hand over each of their chests and move them apart as far as I can. “I think this is a road we’ve traveled one too many times. If you both don’t mind, I’d like to put the focus fully on my mother tonight. And, hey? I’ve got a great idea. That cake I baked weighs about fifty pounds. How about the two of you muscle it into the conservatory before she gets here? We’ve got less than fifteen minutes.”

  They grunt at one another before heading off to the kitchen. I’m about to join them just as I spot a curious sight—Greer, Winslow, Lea, Thirteen, and Carlotta huddled near the entrance to the conservatory, glancing in every now and again as if they were gossiping about the guests at my mother’s party.

  I hightail it over their way. “What gives?” I ask while taking a moment to make a face at Carlotta’s pink bare arms.

  “Don’t worry about me, Lot.” She cranes her neck back to the crowd. “Doctor says I’m right as rain. I just need to stop itching.”

  I look to G
reer. “What really gives?”

  Greer has donned a crimson dress, much like the white ruched one she usually wears, and with her long brown hair as glossy as can be, she looks every bit the beauty queen.

  “We’re doing a suspect roundup,” Greer says while following someone with her eyes in the next room.

  “Let me in on it,” I say.

  “No,” Lea bleats as she firmly pushes me to the side. “I’m eating pancakes, Lottie Lemon, and there’s not a killer in the world I’ll let you find ever again if that’s what it takes.”

  “Well, I can help,” I say. “Who are we looking at?”

  Winslow points a glowing finger over to a tall, lanky man standing next to a gorgeous woman, and I can’t help but smile.

  “Olivia and Teddy.” I shake my head. “I guess she brought him as her guest. I think she’s my number one suspect,” I whisper. “She has a shady past, and I still think she took out the hit on poor Flip.” I look to Carlotta. “Did you ever hear back from Cat on that?”

  “Ohh.” Carlotta digs out her phone. “That reminds me. She called and asked me to call her back. The Canellis don’t leave messages. And I bet that dicey receipt is exactly what she wants to talk to me about. That or she wants my Lazzari connections so she can do a counter hit.”

  “Why do you have Lazzari connections?” I groan. “Never mind. I don’t want to know about it.”

  Carlotta trots off to a dark corner near the foyer, presumably to talk to Connie.

  Thirteen hops up on Winslow’s shoulder. “How about the one with red eyes?” He twitches his head toward Jennifer Norman, who’s standing by the punch bowl talking to Naomi and Keelie. “How on earth has no one questioned her ocular dilemma?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know about that. But I do know that her mother is helping out with her finances now that she’s moving to the city.”

  Winslow nods to his left. “There’s the mother now.”

  “Oh yeah,” I whisper as I spot Lisa looking like a doll in an emerald gown and glittering silver heels. “She’s making me feel sorely underdressed.”

  “That’s because you are,” Greer says without missing a beat.

  “Never mind me,” I say as I look to the dapper man next to Lisa wearing a three-piece suit, his salt and pepper hair slicked back neatly. “Get a load of her date.”

  A warm hand lands on my shoulder. “Get a load of whose date?”

  I jump, only to find Hook Redwood, Meg’s plus one. Hook owns and runs his family’s real estate empire. He looks classically handsome himself this evening in dark jeans and a tweed jacket.

  “That guy,” I say, quickly pointing him out.

  Hook moans as if the sight made him sick. “That’s Orland Studebaker.”

  My mouth falls open. “It is. I didn’t realize you knew him.”

  He clucks his tongue. “We met a few weeks ago under unfortunate circumstances. He’s about to lose his house. I guess he helped his girlfriend out with some cash a few months back. The poor guy drained himself financially then lost his job. Talk about tough luck.”

  “Oh, that is terrible.” No wonder he was so down last week at the bookshop. He did mention helping Lisa out with her shop, and the fact he lost his job, but he didn’t mention a thing about being on the verge of losing his house. Not that I could blame him from omitting that last part.

  Meg stalks over and pulls Hook in by the collar and kisses him hard on the lips.

  “You’re just in time.” She hitches her head my way. “Mom’s out back. Kill the lights, Lottie. Get it? Kill?” She barks out a laugh, but I’m not laughing along with her.

  Noah and Everett hustle the cake over to its designated spot, and I do as I’m told.

  Lainey hushes the crowd to silence just as the back door to the conservatory opens up and we can hear Chrissy, Becca, and my mother shuffling inside.

  “I don’t know why I’ve never thought of that,” Mom says to Chrissy. “Lottie should just date both Noah and Everett, and whoever gives her a child first is the winner in my book.”

  Kill me.

  I flick on and off the lights so fast it looks as if the entire electrical grid is having a seizure.

  The room shouts surprise and I leave the lights on as I seriously contemplate finding a bush to crawl under.

  The room breaks out into cheers and laughter as my mother is swarmed with well-wishers—and my father is the first among them.

  One of which is not me.

  Everett and Noah head this way, both with a slightly satisfied smirk on their faces.

  “It’s not happening,” I say before either of them can get a word out. My mother might think a threesome is a splendid good time, but that’s where we part idealistic ways.

  Everett’s attention gets momentarily hijacked, and I turn to find both Cressida and Cormack clip-clopping their way over in sky-high heels. They’ve both donned formal gowns and their necks are jewel encrusted. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were headed off to some sort of socialite prom.

  “There’s the wicked witch,” Cormack snarls at me as Cressida snatches her away and we get a blast of hard liquor emanating from them both. I can’t help but notice a couple of red scratches around Cormack’s neck. And to be honest, I’m not the least bit concerned from where she may have procured them. Okay, fine, I’m a bit curious. Probably due to some diamond debacle she had back in her room. Both she and Cressida have been staying at the B&B for months now.

  “Great,” I say as I watch them head into the crowd. “Just what we needed. A couple of toasted tarts.”

  “And there he is,” Everett says, nodding just past them at the photographer clicking away with his camera. “Excuse me, Lemon. I think I’m going to make my position known. He got away from me the first time, but he won’t be so lucky again.”

  Noah squints over at the guy. “Come to think of it, there are a few things I’d like to say to the guy myself.” Noah is quick to follow as the crowd swallows them.

  “And they’re off,” I say as I turn back to the crowd at hand. Cheery music filters through the speakers and bodies are starting to sway to the rhythm.

  I spot Olivia in her pink sweater over by the table I’ve laden down with sweets as she picks up a double chocolate chip cookie. I just have to know if that receipt was for a hit. There’s no sign of Carlotta. She’s probably still trying to reach Cat. Maybe I’ll just head over and say hello.

  “Olivia,” I say as I come upon her. “You have to try a chocolate thumbprint with sprinkles. It’s my mother’s favorite.”

  She gives a light chortle. “Well, if it’s in honor of the birthday girl. In that case, I’ll take two.”

  “Oh, hey? Weirdest thing. Someone found a small pink purse on the table you were seated at the morning of the pancake breakfast and turned it into the bakery thinking it was mine. But it’s not and I’m trying to find the owner.”

  Her eyes blink with surprise. “Look no further,” she says, pressing her hand to her chest. “I’ve been looking everywhere for it. I thought for sure it was a lost cause.” The relief on her face is more than apparent.

  “I’m so glad I talked to you. There was no ID inside, so I didn’t know where to look. I mean, there was a receipt in it. To some finance place, but just initials, no name up top.”

  “Oh, that.” She averts her eyes. “I took out a loan for a friend.”

  “A loan? Wow, you’re a great friend,” I say above the music Lainey just hiked up a notch. The boisterous crowd is growing louder by the second, and I feel as if my time with Olivia is quickly expiring.

  She brushes it off. “Typically, I don’t do things like that. But he couldn’t get a loan himself and was so stressed out about money I just had to find a way to help the poor guy out. He was in a property dispute with his neighbor and needed to come up with his half of the fence money stat. So I stepped in. He’s actually paying the interest back himself.”

  Teddy steps over and goes right for the cookies.


  “Here’s the devil himself.” She laughs before leaning my way. “I think I might have a little crush on him,” she whispers with a wink.

  He gives a polite wave my way as they take off to admire the cake in the corner.

  So it wasn’t a hit?

  I shake my head, confused. I thought for sure I was going to nail Olivia for this. And she took the money out for Teddy? Makes sense that he couldn’t get a loan in a pinch. Nobody can these days. And I bet Olivia had ties to Martinelle because no bank will give her the time of day due to her record.

  My phone pings, and it’s a text from Carlotta.

  No hit. Boo.

  A smile cinches over my lips as she affirms my own thoughts.

  So who did it? I glance around at the crowd until I spot Jennifer speaking to Lisa and Orland.

  Jennifer needed the cash. Flip all but broke her. However—her mom stepped in and saved the day.

  Wait a minute.

  Lisa was also having cash flow problems. Orland had to step in and save the day for her. And now, of course, poor Orland is about to lose his home. Maybe Orland gave Lisa enough money for the bookstore to get on its feet and enough for her to have a surplus? Could that be how she got the money to give to Jennifer?

  Another thought hits me.

  That day at the bookstore, Orland said that he had financial trouble of his own, but then alluded to the fact he caught a break this month and it took the edge off.

  Maybe Hook doesn’t know this yet. Maybe Orland’s house isn’t about to be foreclosed, after all. I mean, I think he has a small grace period to come up with the funds and any penalty fees.

  Lisa, Orland, and Jennifer break out into laughter just as my mother heads their way and they each offer her a warm greeting. Orland excuses himself and heads over to the refreshment table, bypassing the drinks and heading straight for my cookies.

  “Hey, Orland,” I say and offer the older man a quick wave. “Both you and Lisa look amazing tonight.”

  He offers a cheery laugh. “It was Lisa’s idea. She finally got a little change in her pocket and wanted to splurge.” He takes a bite out of my chocolate fudge brownie and moans. “Did you make these?”