Murder in the Mix Box Set

by Addison Moore

Lily shakes her head over at Keelie. “I can’t believe you’re still with that guy even though he’s openly making out with Meg whenever he gets the chance.”

  “I can’t help it.” Keelie bows her head in shame. “Meg and I both care deeply for him. He’s our Lottie.”

  I shudder at the comparison.

  Lily grunts my way, “See what you started? A very bad trend. Let’s just hope you don’t pollute the youth with this nonsense.” She takes off for the back, and Keelie leans across the counter.

  “Just wait until you have two hot men warring after you, Lily! It won’t be such nonsense then!”

  I take a step closer to my sweet friend who I want nothing but the best for. “Do yourself a favor and find someone else to pine after. If Hook can’t make up his mind, then he doesn’t deserve either of you.” I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. “Did I really just say that?”

  “You did, but do you mean it?”

  “On the surface I do, but”—a deep groan comes from me as I roll my neck—“it’s so much more complicated than that.”

  “I figured as much. I’ve got some black lace lingerie that can double as a dress. I’m coming guns blazing tonight. Make sure you look hot. You want to blend in.”

  “Will do!”

  Look hot. I mentally survey my wardrobe and come up empty. The hottest thing I own is that frilly, naughty Mrs. Claus outfit Keelie gifted me last Christmas. Nope that will not do.

  Then an idea comes to mind.

  * * *

  Scarlet Sage knew immediately what to outfit me in once I explained my predicament—thus the reason I’m standing in front of a sign that reads Condi’s Deli Meats, wearing a skirt so short and snug a part of me wonders if it were really a belt. I’ve also donned a pair of fishnet stockings with obnoxiously large netting and have completed the look with rhinestone pumps and a silver coned bra strapped over the girls with red tassels that spin effortlessly with my every move.

  In all honesty, I have never been one to walk on the raunchy side, not even on Halloween when every good girl gets a pass to outfit herself with as much slutty apparel as she wants.

  As soon as Noah and Everett spotted me, they stood still for a small eternity just ogling my body as if I were a billboard doing my best to entice them to the naughty side of town. And ironically, that happens to be exactly where we are—in Leeds where every side of town is the naughty side.

  Everett eyes me from the side, his lips curling with approval. His eyes are glossed over with desire, and I can practically feel the heat emanating off his body. Ten bucks says if Everett and I were alone, I wouldn’t be wearing this greasy getup for very long.

  “Lemon, you just can’t go wrong in anything you put on.”

  Noah groans, “Shut up. Other men are going to be looking at her tonight, and they are not going to be having a single wholesome thought.”

  Everett growls with approval. “I can attest to that. I’m not having a single wholesome thought at the moment myself.” He steps in close until my body conforms to his. “Did I tell you I invested in a litter box? You can bring the boys over later and you can all spend the night.”

  My mouth falls open, amused at the thought of Everett stepping into a pet store just for my sweet angels, Pancake and Waffles. But before I can say a thing, Keelie, Meg, and Hook come bounding our way.

  Keelie has a little black dress on. And if I squint, I can see that it’s comprised of lace, but it looks demure compared to the travesty I’ve donned. And Meg, well, she’s wearing a black latex number that looks as if her naked form was dipped in paint. And as far as my sister goes, that’s practically an everyday accouterment. In other words, she didn’t have to dig too far in her closet to produce that number. Hook is wearing slacks and a dress shirt much like Noah—and Everett is complete with his signature three-piece suit.

  “Keelie, why did you tell me to dress this way? I look completely ridiculous. I’m embarrassed to tell you how much I paid for this grungy getup. And now that money is a total loss.”

  Everett takes up my hand and gives a wistful shake of the head. “I can promise you that not one red cent will be wasted. I’ll make sure you’ll make good use of that for a very long time to come, Cupcake.”

  Noah looks ready to kill. “Over your dead body.”

  “Relax, sweetheart,” Everett is quick to chide him. “Why are you so stressed? Things not going so well with the missus?”

  Noah gives a long blink before offering a rhythmic knock on the door, and, after about a minute, a tall man answers. He’s bald, angry, and has muscles so painfully big that his T-shirt is having trouble stretching over them.

  “Echelon,” Noah says it cool and low as the bouncer surveys our small crowd.

  “Everyone but the stripper gets in.” He steps back, and the entire lot of us inspect one another for a moment before Keelie and Meg burst out laughing.

  “Oh my goodness”—my face burns with the heat of a thousand sexed-up suns—“you think I’m a stripper?”

  “Why else would you be dressed like that?” he barks before motioning the rest of them inside. “Go on. Get going before we draw attention.”

  Everett produces a wad of bills from his pocket and stuffs them into the bouncer’s oversized mitt. “After you, Lemon.”

  And just like that, I’m the first to enter what reeks like a slaughterhouse—because it is. Aside from being putrid, it’s murky, and just as I’m about to wedge myself between Noah and Everett, I spot a pair of familiar supernatural sparkling spooks a few feet away.

  “Greer, Max! I’m so glad you could make it,” I say it lower than a whisper. “Where’s Winslow? He might really dig this scene.”

  Greer rolls her luminescent eyes. “We’re on a break. He’s not taking it well. Who knew he had the power to take an entire door off its hinges? That boyfriend of your mother’s thinks she’s cheating, by the way. Things are going south quickly. He ripped a page out of Winslow’s playbook and ripped a door off its hinges, too.”

  “Great.” I knew Carlotta would do far more damage than good. How could I have entrusted my mother’s safety in her hands? I couldn’t even entrust her with my safety. “I’ll take care of that later. Tonight, we’re scoping out Jenson Becker. If either of you hears anything, report right back to me. I expect some serious supernatural sleuthing to take place.”

  Greer blows me a kiss as she takes Max by the hand, and we all follow the beefy bouncer toward a long, dark hall that leads to a secret door in the back.

  And once I step inside Echelon, I can’t help but gasp.

  Chapter 46

  Club Echelon is nothing more than a preppy playground.

  The lighting is a step up from the murky hovel we were just led through, the music—’70s soft rock—isn’t all that loud, and the well-mannered, well-dressed crowd is milquetoast to say the least. The building itself is a large steel structure with concrete flooring, exposed ductwork, and lots of metal tables scattered around.

  There’s a bar with flashy neon lights directing you to the mixologist, in the event you get lost on the way—but none of that compares to what my eyes are actually witnessing. Dozens of white sofas fill the immediate space just beyond the entry, each of them laden with men clad in chinos, women in corduroy pants, long-sleeved blouses buttoned up to their necks, and their feet are either covered with penny loafers circa 1983 or driving moccasins that I’m guessing cost more than my poor Honda is worth.

  Meg leans in. “Welcome to the preppy palladium. Hey? Maybe if we’re lucky, a Republican pep rally will break out and we’ll all be asked to register to vote?”

  Greer and Max glow as they make their way to a more expansive area in the back where bodies appear to be moving and grooving to this yawn-able yacht rock. Not that I hate it. It’s actually just my speed, but as far as clubbing goes, this feels rather like a dud.

  Keelie slaps her hands and shakes her hips. “Come on, Meg. Don’t be such a downer. This is where Wall Street comes to sizzl
e.”

  Meg grunts, “More like fizzle.”

  “Hook!” A couple of guys from the Wall Street corner of the room wave him over. “We were just discussing hedge funds.”

  Hook heads over. “Why bother? They’ve been dead for years.”

  Keelie moans as he meanders straight toward the chino crew, “And we’ve lost him.”

  Meg doesn’t look all that distraught, though. My sister tugs at Keelie by the elbow. “Come on. We’re hitting the dance floor. I need to limber up for later tonight.”

  “I get him later tonight.” Keelie swats Meg with her purse as they stumble into the next room.

  Everett and Noah close in on me, and I can’t help but note all the condescending looks I’m receiving from the uptight girls sporting that low-key wealthy vibe. And soon enough, their eyes enlarge as they catch wind of the demigods I’ve dragged into their midst.

  “We need to find Jenson,” I say as more bodies pile in and the club starts filling up.

  Noah leans in. “I think I see her by the bar.”

  Just as the three of us are about to make our way in that direction, a familiar couple crops up before us. My ex, Bear, and his new main squeeze, Rigby Emerson, are here whooping it up. Bear has that sandy beach look to him, blond hair, tanned face. And Rigby is a redheaded, freckle-faced sweetheart.

  “What are the two of you doing here?” I ask with open-mouthed surprise. For a very long while, I couldn’t stand Bear after he broke my heart. But last month, after my other ex, Curt Vanderlin, strolled into town, I seemed to make peace with both of my exes. It was the last thing in the world I expected.

  “What aren’t we doing here?” Bear wraps an arm around Rigby as she snuggles into him. “Face it, there’s nothing to do in Honey Hollow after dark.”

  Everett leans in, his lips right over my ear. “I can think of a few things.”

  Rigby is quick to agree with her new boy toy. “Lottie, you should really consider putting a secret club in after hours at the bakery.”

  “I think I’ll leave the dancing scene to the pros.”

  “Speaking of pros”—Bear leans in—“I hear you’ve got another case on your hands. That St. James girl seemed to have an enemy hiding under every rock.”

  “What makes you think that?” My adrenaline kicks in at the thought of Bear hand-delivering vital information to me.

  “I’m doing repair work for your mom. Some kook knocked two doors off their hinges. And that chick who had the divorce party loves to chat me up whenever I’m there.”

  Rigby’s eyes enlarge with rage. “Give me a call next time you need to head to the B&B. I might just make a pit stop there myself. No one messes with my fuzzy little teddy Bear.”

  I wince as she says the seemingly adorable moniker, and we part ways as they head to the dance hall in the back.

  “Landon seems just as hard up for a man as her sister.” I don’t mind taking a swipe at Cormack in the process. “Those girls will do anything for attention.”

  Noah’s phone pings, and he looks at the screen. “Funny you should say that. It’s a text from Cormack.”

  I glance to Everett and avert my eyes.

  “Right on cue,” I mutter. “Let me guess. She wants you to pick up some bath salts so you can give her an appropriate foot rub later tonight?”

  Everett’s chest rumbles as he wraps his arms around me. “And while you’re touching Cormack’s tired dogs, I’ll be touching Lemon’s—”

  “She got another threat,” Noah cuts Everett off before shoving the screen in his face.

  I peer over. It’s a picture of a note.

  “You’re not leaving this planet alive,” I read before scoffing with a laugh. “That’s hardly a threat. None of us are leaving this planet alive. What kind of a moron would come up with that?”

  Noah begins texting back. “I’m sorry, Lottie. We have to take this seriously.”

  “You shouldn’t bother.” I point to the screen. “Look at that chicken scratch. It looks as if she wrote it with her left hand.”

  Everett sighs. “Cormack is left-handed.”

  “And I stick to my story,” I say as I indeed spot Jenson Becker by the mixology station.

  Noah’s phone pings again, and we all peer down to see it’s a text from Britney. How about a nightcap at my place? The ghosts are raging tonight. I’m guessing it’s a couple’s squabble. Quite romantic. Don’t you think?

  I grunt at the sight of it. “Noah, you take care of your girlfriend and your wife. Everett and I have a perpetrator to capture.” I lead Everett by the hand as we weave through the ever-growing thicket of yuppies until we come upon the bar where we’re greeted by what looks to be a banker incognito.

  “What can I get for you this fine evening?”

  I glance to Everett. “You have to admit, it’s an upgrade from Red Satin.” I lean close to the bar. “I’ll have an ex on the beach.” I give a little wink at my play on words.

  “Coming right up, young lady. And for you, sir?”

  “Whiskey neat.” He lands an arm around my shoulder. “No use in letting our designated driver go to waste.”

  “I wondered why you took him up on his offer.”

  “He deserves to be sober when he witnesses what I’m about to do to you on that dance floor.”

  “Ooh, Judge Baxter. Maybe we should ditch the investigation and get right to the hip-grinding good part?”

  “Your drinks are ready,” a female voice chirps from behind, and we turn to find Jenson Becker herself giving a flirtatious wink Everett’s way. Her copper bob glints metallic as she offers a saucy smile at the man by my side. “Wow, you are ten times hotter from the front as you are the back—and here I didn’t think that was possible.”

  I growl at her without meaning to. Oh, heck, I meant it. What kind of a monster flirts with someone else’s date?

  She slides a fruity concoction my way in her demure gray cardigan. “You must think I’m a monster.” She gives another sly wink my way, and I’m suddenly concerned she has the power to read my mind. “I’m the owner. Jenson Becker.” She squints my way. “Hey? Didn’t I see you the other day at that divorce disaster?” Her affect goes slack as she makes her way around the bar. “I did see you.” She pokes a finger into Everett’s rock-hard abs. “And I certainly remember you. Wow, the rumors are true. You really are the man of steel.”

  “That’s right.” I pull Everett my way. “My boyfriend fights for truth and justice every day. He’s a judge at the Ashford Courthouse. Lottie Lemon.” I extend my hand, and she shakes it. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  She shudders. “Nessa wasn’t really anyone’s friend. Did they catch the killer?”

  “They’re very close,” I say, inspecting her for signs of panic. “Did you happen to see something? You were there the moment Nessa took that fatal bite.”

  “True, but once Landon invited us to have at the lemon bars, it was a free-for-all. Everyone was pushing up against everyone.”

  I step in close. “Did you happen to see who pushed up against Nessa?”

  “The only thing I saw was Nessa bouncing off of Clayton.” She tosses her gaze into the crowd. “But Nessa was bouncing off of Clayton regularly, if you know what I mean.”

  My mouth rounds out as Everett and I exchange a quick glance.

  Everett nods as if he’s got this. “But you and Nessa were good friends, right?”

  “The best, I guess.” She blows a loose strand of hair off her face. “Everyone wanted to be Nessa’s friend. But even among the privileged, she was untouchable. Nessa didn’t really let anyone on the inside. Some people have a wall around their emotions. Ness had a fort—an impenetrable fort. Unless, of course, you looked like that.” She flicks Everett’s tie. “If Nessa spotted a man she wanted, she’d be on top of that situation—and I do mean on top. Nessa liked to be in control both in and out of the bedroom.”

  “So she wanted Clayton,” I say. “That must have made both Landon and Vivian ang
ry. That is, if they knew about it.”

  “Please”—she scoffs as she waves us over into the expansive room just beyond the borders of the bar—“everyone knew it. But it was never spoken about.”

  Max and Greer pop up at their leisure, per usual.

  Max’s hair is disheveled, and his shirt is buttoned crooked—and how is anything of that nature possible? Isn’t he basically just a ball of air?

  “About time,” I hiss lower than a breath.

  Jenson juts her chin forward. “Pardon?”

  A breath hitches in my throat. “About time Nessa was called out on her naughty shenanigans. I mean, well, Landon told me.”

  Jenson’s mouth falls open as she grips me by the wrist. “Landon knew?”

  “You just said everybody knew.”

  “Everybody but Landon. If Landon found Nessa St. James was sleeping around with her then-husband, she would have killed her.”

  Greer lets a riotous applause rip. “Winner, winner, chicken dinner. Arrest the girl, Lottie. The little twerp keeps hiding the good stuff from me. You break into a person’s cosmetics bag once and they forever ban you from it.”

  Everett ticks his head to the side. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know Landon pretty well. And like you said, nobody really got along with Nessa. Landon wanted the spotlight to herself that day.”

  Max clicks his tongue. “Unless she wanted a good cover. And Jenson here knows all about a good cover. Ask her about the time she and Nessa were arrested. I dare you.”

  I’ve never been one to back away from a dare.

  I tap the side of my cheek with my finger. “Come to think of it, Landon mentioned something else about Nessa—something about her getting arrested with someone. What was that name?” I glance around the room in a circle before abruptly landing back on Jenson. “Oh wait, it was you.”

  “An arrest?” Everett sounds amused, downplaying it as if it were no big deal. “It sounds like a little sorority fun back in the day.”

  Jenson taps her foot violently against the floor, her jaw clenched tight. “Nessa swore on her grandmother’s grave she wouldn’t tell a soul. Figures. She was a liar through and through.” Her entire body convulses as she lets out a roar. “Just when I think I can’t get any angrier at her, she goes and boils my blood again. And from the great beyond!” Her face is purple as a plum. “The reason we were arrested is because Nessa decided shoplifting would be the next sexy sport. It was all a game to her. And when Nessa threw out a challenge, you had to accept or you’d be a social pariah the very next day. At first I was good at it. A little too good.” She admires a large sparkling rock on her finger, and it hits me that these were no small-time heists. In fact, Jenson Becker is still wearing her haul on her finger. “Nessa tried to swipe a Rolex. I already had a Bvlgari necklace stuffed in my pocket. Let’s just say security was not as kind once they determined we were thieves. My father is an attorney. He has a very prominent law firm in Fallbrook—Clay and Ryan work for the firm, and they saved our behinds. Nessa and I could have had records. We could have done time. That really burned me.”