Murder in the Mix Books 1-3 (Murder in the Mix Boxed Set)

by Addison Moore

  Lord knows I wouldn’t be anywhere without Nell in my life. She’s the one who gifted me my precious cat, Pancake. She happens to own Pancake’s brother, Waffles, and our shared affection for the adorable, yet severely aloof, Himalayans is just another facet of our inextricable bond. I’m pretty bonded to Pancake, too. In fact, I’m going to collapse on my bed with my arms wrapped tight around him tonight.

  Technically, it’s not my bed. I’m still holed up in Lainey’s guest room, but once I get a little time on my hands, I’ll be back to apartment hunting so I can get out of her hair. We get along well enough, but we’ve never made good roommates.

  The back door is open, and I meander over for a quick breath of crisp autumn air. The fog is still rolling in thick, unfurling like batting, and I’m momentarily drawn to it. No sooner do I get to the back porch than I’m stopped in my tracks by the sound of shouting voices escalating to my left. Not far off in the alley, I spot Bear and Hunter going at it, both men red-faced and angry. It looks pretty volatile, so I quickly step back into the shop. I know for a fact Bear blamed Hunter for that scaffolding incident this morning, but I wish he wouldn’t hammer into him like that. It was an accident, and everybody involved survived.

  I head back into the bakery, picking up a tray of creamy white cake pops swirled to look like mummies, complete with chocolate chip eyes. The kids especially love those and, sure enough, every last one of them is snatched from me before I have a chance to set the tray down.

  Everett comes up and bumps his shoulder to mine as we inspect the wild crowd. “That went fast. But then, so is everything else. Bear’s brownie bar is a pretty big hit, too.”

  “Don’t I know it. At least I can count on the fact they’ll love my brownies.” It was in honor of Bear that I put up the brownie bar to begin with. It turns out, he put this project at the top of his construction roster just so he could complete it as soon as possible.

  “They’ll love everything,” Everett assures before nodding to the entry that leads into the Honey Pot, and I hike up on my tiptoes to see what he’s motioning to.

  I suck in a quick breath at the sight of Cascade Montgomery, Merilee and Mora Anne’s cousin. And here I thought she was the one who stabbed poor Merilee in the back, but actually it was her sister, Mora Anne.

  “Well, I’m glad she’s here. Actually, I’m glad everyone’s here.”

  I take in the crowd again and spot Holland Grand, who owns the orchard, speaking with Ken and Molly McMurry, who own the pumpkin patch. Next to them stands Naomi Turner, Keelie’s twin sister. But, unlike Keelie, Naomi has decided to eschew her naturally blonde locks and dye them a gorgeous shade of ebony much like my own sister. Her eyes are a startling shade of blue, and I must admit the combination looks stunning. Both Naomi and Keelie are stunning in general. Next to her stand her best friend, Lily Swanson, and her newly minted beau, Travis Darren. I can’t help but scowl over at him since he was dating both Simonson sisters at the very same time just last month.

  Past them stand Becca Turner, aka my second mom, Naomi and Keelie’s mother, speaking with Eva Hollister, the woman who runs my mother’s book club, and Chrissy Nash, the mayor’s ex-wife. And seeing that Mayor Nash himself is here mingling amongst the crowd, I’d say Chrissy is finally past the point where she can’t stand to be in the same room with him.

  To their left, Collette Jenner postures for the attention of every male in a three-mile radius. Apparently, she’s one of Everett’s many exes, and I can’t help but grunt at the sight of her. Sure, she’s a perky redhead who makes it a point to brighten any room she’s in with that obnoxious witch-like cackle, but there’s something about the fact Everett used to date her that has made me unsure of how I feel about her anymore. It’s not like we were friends to begin with.

  Just as I’m about to tempt Everett with one of my wickedly delicious devil’s food cupcakes, something small and furry scurries across the floor, and I gasp as if trying to suck all of the oxygen out of the room.

  “A rodent,” I hiss to Everett, suddenly regretful I said anything at all. God forbid word get out that I’ve got rats or bats or whatever that thing was that just skipped into the place.

  “What? Where?” Everett looks to the ground right along with me.

  The tip of a fluffy little tail threads through the crowd, and my jaw unhinges. “It’s not a rat after all. It’s a squirrel.” I’m only a touch relieved by that fact. It’s still a menacing rodent, vermin if you will. And I certainly don’t care to have it in my shop. I would have said all of that out loud, but I’m terrified of starting a stampede for the front door.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “It’s right there.” I point as the brazen little beast comes forward and stands on its hind legs right in front of my mother. Dear God, she’s going to stomp it to death with those four inch stilettos she’s stuffed her feet into. My mother is notorious for stomping out the life of a vermin or two, mostly mice and rats that found their way far too close to her killer clogs. She would do anything to defend her daughters, and a spontaneous homicide has never been off the table.

  “Right where?” Everett leans in toward the spot my finger is poised to.

  “Are you blind?” I tease as the creature takes a few ambling steps in our direction, and I freeze solid. That silver bushy tail, that fuzzy gray coat is suddenly translucent in nature, and I can see the floor right through its body. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill woodland creature. This was once somebody’s loveable, and well past its prime, pet.

  “I’m beginning to question your vision.” Everett looks stymied by what it is I’m staring at.

  “Oh”—seeing that this beast is for my eyes only, I think it’s best I ditch this entire conversation with him—“you’re right.” My cheeks flush pink as I stand straight as a pin. “It must have been a scarf someone dropped momentarily. It’s about freezing outside already.” A thought occurs to me, and I jolt to attention.

  Dear God! The last time I saw a dearly departed beast it was Merilee’s orange tabby and look what happened to her! Merilee, not the tabby. The pets that skip over from the other side of the rainbow bridge are always a prequel to some horrible event in their previous owner’s life. The trouble used to range from skinned knees to broken bones, but in Merilee’s case, that cat might as well have been dressed like the Grim Reaper. I’ve seen the ghost of a person just twice before, as well, and I’m darn glad I haven’t seen one since. The squirrel comes up and holds its tiny paws up in my direction, just looking at me with those big brown eyes, that bushy tail hiked at attention, and I can’t help but coo at it.

  “Oh my goodness, you are the sweetest little thing,” I whisper as I give it a quick scratch over the back.

  “Lottie?” Everett sounds more than worried for me.

  I straighten once again as the tiny creature scuttles past me, making his way to the kitchen.

  Everett’s dark brows bounce with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Who were talking to?”

  “You!” My voice squeaks. “I was talking to you. You’re just the sweetest thing.” I bite down hard over my lower lip. Lying is something I’m loath to do. “Say! If anyone in this room were to once have had a squirrel as a pet, who would you think that would be?”

  “Me.” A warm, masculine voice buzzes in my ear as Noah wraps his arms around me, and my heart lurches inside my chest.

  “Please tell me you’re kidding,” I say, spinning around in his arms to take in his gorgeous face. I couldn’t stand it if anything even remotely bad happened to Noah. My heart hurts just thinking about it.

  That tick of his cheek spells out concern. “I am kidding.” He opens his mouth to say something else just as the McMurrys come upon us.

  Molly smiles at both Noah and me. “I hope we’re not interrupting.” My eyes flit to that shoulder-length bob of hers with its cute, vertical curls. I’ve been envious of everyone who can pull off that hairstyle. I’ve wanted to try it myself this summer, but I never had a free mo
ment. And now with the bakery, I’m afraid my hair will be set in a messy bun permanently. Her husband, Ken, is classically tall, dark, and handsome. He always has a toothy grin at the ready and a piece of straw tucked behind his ear that gives him a scarecrow-esque appeal.

  “Not interrupting at all,” I say, fully relieved to steer all conversation away from that poor deceased squirrel.

  “Good,” Molly says, holding up a purple frosted devil’s food cupcake with a tiny meringue ghost spiked into the top. “Ken and I were wondering if you’d be up for baking about twelve dozen or so of these for the Fall-O-Ween Fest down at the pumpkin patch? Of course, we’ll pay you and be happy to do it. Each year we like to offer a refreshment table, and these would be a perfect treat to go along with it.”

  “Yes! Of course, I would.” A rush of adrenaline bursts through me all at once. “I would love to furnish any and all of the treats you need for the Fall-O-Ween Fest. It happens to be one of my fondest memories growing up.”

  “That’s perfect.” Molly’s entire face brightens as if my cupcakes had the power to make her day, and I’d like to think they did. “I’ll get you a firm number of how many we’ll need, then email me with an estimate of the cost, and I’ll come by next week and leave a deposit.”

  “I sure will,” I say as they weave their way back into the crowd. Collette crops up in their place and immediately begins asking Everett ridiculous questions in a clear effort to pry him away.

  I look to Noah. “I’ll be right back. I’d better refill those cupcakes so that Molly and Ken can see firsthand how much the locals love them.”

  Noah ticks his head toward Nell. “Sounds good. I’ll head over and say hello.”

  I take off for the kitchen, and just as I’m about to steal a fresh chocolate chip cookie off a cooling rack and pop it into my mouth—there is nothing like a warm chocolate chip cookie straight from the oven—that bushy silver tail garners my attention once again.

  A horrible feeling of foreboding comes over me as I follow the wily beast as he makes his way out the back door. Carefully, I take a step out into the chilled autumn air. The maples from across the way have blown their golden hand-shaped leaves all over the ground as the tiny squirrel scampers over them and right over a body.

  A scream gets locked in my throat.

  Flat on his back lies Hunter Fisher with one of my devil’s food cupcakes in his hand and a bullet wound through his chest.

  Hunter isn’t ever going to finish that cupcake. In fact, he won’t be eating anything at all ever again.

  He’s dead.

  Chapter 20

  T he echo of my own screams riots through the tiny alleyway as a crowd amasses from nowhere, and soon it seems as if the entire bakery has drained of all its patrons to gawk at poor Hunter who lies motionless, his eyes still opened to the sky. Judging by that sizable pool of blood beneath him, Hunter Fisher is most certainly no longer with us.

  Noah grabs ahold of me and pulls me back while Everett shouts into his phone for help to arrive.

  “Lottie, what happened?” Noah weaves us through the tangle of bodies, and I can finally catch my breath. “What did you see?”

  The crowd whispers Hunter Fisher’s name until it sounds like an ominous chant.

  “I didn’t see any—” That squirrel! “Well, I guess that mystery is solved,” I say under my breath. It’s clear the adorable creature belonged to Hunter at some point in time.

  Noah runs his hands up and down my arms as I startle back to life. “You saw something. What did you see?”

  Everett comes up before I can answer. “The sheriffs are on their way. They want you to stick around for questioning.”

  “Sadly, I know the routine,” I say as Bear comes running out of the back of the bakery just as a fire truck rolls onto the scene.

  “What’s going on?” He pushes his way through the crowd. “Oh God!” He dives onto his knees toward his poor cousin lying helpless on the asphalt, and I barrel through the knot of bodies to be with him.

  “Who the hell did this?” The veins in the sides of his neck distend like cords as his face turns an instant shade of red. I’ve never seen him so filled with rage and grief.

  I fall next to him, and Bear lets out a mighty roar as if he had some primal capability to morph into the beast from which his nickname was hewn. Bear loses it, cussing and shouting at anyone and everyone before leaning over his lookalike. Poor Bear just sits there stunned, red-faced and angry as if he were ready to kill whoever was responsible for this. And I have no doubt he would. If I never knew it before, Bear loved Hunter like a brother.

  Before long, sirens saw through the air, and the dim alleyway is lit up with spasming red and blue lights. Most of the crowd has dissipated, and as soon as Captain Turner gets out of his vehicle, he instructs anybody who didn’t witness the event to please leave their names with the attending officers before they head home. Not long after, an all too familiar coroner’s van pulls up behind the brigade of patrol cars, and my blood runs cold.

  It’s happening again. It’s already happened.

  Captain Turner helps Bear up and pulls him to the side for questioning, and it’s just me staring at my old friend as tears of my own stream down my cheeks.

  “It’s not fair,” I say to no one in particular.

  Noah materializes from out of nowhere. “You’re right, Lottie. It’s not fair. Murder never is.” He helps me to my feet and holds me as I do my best to pull it together, but I can’t seem to stop shaking, can’t stop the tears from streaming like a wild river with no end and no beginning.

  Keelie and Lainey head this way, shaken and pale themselves.

  “Here,” Lainey says while dabbing my cheeks with a wad of tissues. “I’m going to get you home. Captain Turner knows that you’re staying with me. You shouldn’t be here, seeing him like this.”

  “No.” It comes from me like an abrupt protest. “I need to be here. I need to be here for Hunter and for Bear. You go ahead.” I spot Tanner Redwood behind her and can’t help but frown. It shouldn’t be Tanner making sure my sister gets home safe. It should be Forest Donovan. Forest and Lainey were high school sweethearts who dated for a small eternity. But then, they hit a bump in the road last summer, a boulder if you will, and, well, Lainey thought it would be cute to make Forest jealous with Tanner. One date led to another, and they’ve been joined at the hip ever since. Not literally. And as far as I know, ever. Just the thought makes me want to gag.

  Just as Lainey is about to protest, Forest comes over all decked out in his firemen garb, heavy yellow coat, loose tan pants, and thick black boots. Forest is every bit the hot firefighter with his chestnut waves and those crystal gray eyes.

  Tanner looks more like your typical playboy—which everyone knows he is. My sister is so fooling herself if she thinks he’s being loyal to her. I spotted him speaking to three different girls just this week alone. He happens to be the head of Parks and Recs for all of Honey Hollow. He’s got a tanned surfer look about him, hair that’s short in the back and longer in front so he’s forever doing that annoying head flip to get it out of his eyes.

  “Lainey”—Forest offers her a partial embrace—“thank God you guys are okay. When I heard it was the new bakery—” His voice breaks, and he ticks his head to the side as if working hard to keep his emotions in check. “Let me take you home.”

  Her mouth opens as she looks to Tanner.

  “Dude.” Tanner gently removes Forest’s hold on my sister, and my heart breaks for my sister’s one true love. That would be Forest, by the way. “I’m taking her home.” He does that annoying hair flip thing three times in a row, and I’m starting to think it’s a tic. “And I’ll stay with her all night long.”

  “No thank you,” I’m quick to interject, and my sister makes wild eyes at me as if to say thank you herself. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, and I’ll take over from there.”

  The three of them say a quick goodnight as Lainey and Tanner take off in one d
irection and poor Forest in the other.

  Everett gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Are you okay? Did you see anyone taking off when you came out here?”

  Noah’s chest puffs up on cue. “I already asked her that. What did you see, Lottie? Did you hear anything?”

  “No.” I shake my head, bewildered. “I mean, he was shot, right? I certainly didn’t hear a gunshot.”

  Noah nods. “They most likely used a silencer. Did you see anything at all? Anything?”

  “No, I mean, yes. I was just following that sq—” My fingers land hard over my lips, and I shoot a quick look to Everett.

  “Detective Fox,” Captain Turner shouts as he motions him over.

  Noah looks from me to Everett. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Everett wastes no time leaning in. “You were going to say squirrel, Lemon. Don’t deny it. We may not be in a courtroom, but I don’t think it would be beneficial for you to perjure yourself in my presence regardless.”

  “Please.” I avert my gaze a moment. “I would never lie to you—willingly.” I wince as that last part comes out. “Besides, it’s not important. What’s important is that they catch whoever did this. And I can promise you, Essex Everett Baxter, that it was not me,” I hiss out that last part, and to my surprise a tiny smile twitches on his lips. “What?” It comes out annoyed, as has been my go-to emotion with him in the not-so-distant past.

  He straightens a bit, and his jaw squares out, making him look irritatingly far more handsome than ever is fair. Which reminds me—I know firsthand they label his java cup Mr. Sexy down at the coffee shop next to the courthouse. “You’re not telling the truth.”