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

by Addison Moore

  My lips twitch with a smile of their own. Noah and I have only just begun our journey together, considering we met in September and it’s just now November, but I’d say yes in an impulsive second if he popped the question. He’s insanely gorgeous and sincere to a fault. And his best trait by far is that he’s extremely protective of my safety. I may or may not have gotten involved with an open homicide investigation that he was working on a few weeks back and almost got myself killed in the process, but that’s all in the past.

  “I can’t thank you enough for helping.” I brush a careful kiss over his lips and linger. I’d much rather be doing exactly this than hauling a mountain of boxes into my new living room.

  Someone clears their throat from the door, and we look over to find Essex Everett Baxter, the honorable judge who happened to side in my favor when my landlords hauled me to small claims court back in September. Everett was just filling in that day. He usually sees much meatier cases, which involve full-blown juries and require harsh sentencings that lead to lengthy prison stays. It sounds terribly exciting—as long as I’m on the right side of the law—and one day I fully intend to pick his brain about it. Everett and Noah used to be stepbrothers back in high school when Everett’s mother was married to Noah’s swindler of a father. And as fate would have it, some of the money that was given to me for the bakery just so happened to be swindled from her. I didn’t know it at the time, and Everett apparently gave his green light to the endeavor.

  Everett is younger than you might expect for a judge. He’s thirty-two, and Noah is thirty-one to my twenty-six. We all went to dinner at the Honey Pot last night after we did an initial haul of boxes and clothing. Turns out, Everett’s closet is just as full as mine. But that doesn’t say a lot, considering the fact the wardrobe of a baker is pretty basic. After dinner, we talked at length about our lives. I told Everett about my adoption—Noah already knew that part, but I kept mum on the New York debacle that occurred during and post my college years at Columbia.

  Last month, when Noah mentioned that a couple of homes were for rent on his street, Everett came with us to check them out. He liked the one next door so much he bought it. Noah lives across the street, adjacent to my cute little white clapboard house with its white picket fence porch and cheery red door. It’s so homey, I feel like I’ve lived here for years, and already I don’t ever want to move.

  “That’s it.” Everett lands the last box onto the dining room table. He nods over to Keelie and Lainey who both just plopped onto the sofa next to Pancake. “Thanks for everything, guys. You didn’t have to help me move, too. Helping Lemon would have been more than enough.” His lips pull back with a temporal grin. Everett doesn’t smile much, has little to say, and seems to be made up of pure testosterone. His hair is dark, his eyes are a glacial blue, and he wears a suit just about every day of the week—with the exception of this one. Apparently, women have been falling all over him for eons, and now that I’ve had a chance to witness the debauchery firsthand, I can honestly say it’s not a pretty sight. One day I fully expect to see a knock-down, drag-out brawl in his honor. Everett admitted that he’s not the relationship type, and he has an entire string of exes to prove it. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

  “Oh no, you don’t!” I pull both Everett and Noah along as I herd everyone into the kitchen. I wanted to sleep here last night, but Lainey wouldn’t hear of me staying in an empty house with nothing more than an air mattress and my sweet cat. Lainey was nice enough to let me live with her for the last few months after the Simonson sisters gave me the boot. “We’re going to make a toast,” I say, pulling the champagne flutes from a box and setting them over the creamy marble island that’s been vying for a coveted position in my heart ever since I laid eyes on it. And, believe me, this baby has gotten it.

  Keelie opens the fridge and groans. “You’re missing a key ingredient, Lottie. No champs.”

  “Sorry,” I say, reaching for the fruit-flavored seltzer water and distributing it evenly into five glasses. “I’ll make it up to you next time.” I give a sly wink to Noah because I plan on making it up to him far sooner than that.

  Lainey helps disperse the flutes, and soon we’re lifting our arms.

  “To new beginnings with wonderful neighbors.” I raise my glass and tip my head toward Noah and Everett.

  Pancake lets out a howl from the next room, and we all share a laugh on his behalf.

  “To new beginnings,” the four of them chime before imbibing.

  Noah takes a breath, his chest expanding the size of a door, and I can’t help but bite down on my lower lip. Noah and I haven’t taken that next step in our relationship yet. Heck, I haven’t even seen the inside of his rental home yet. We’ve been that busy. But once things settle down, I’m looking forward to rectifying just about everything with that tall, dark-haired, dimpled, headstrong detective.

  Noah gives a wayward glance my way, and a heated line bisects my stomach on cue. Noah Fox is welcome to send a wayward glance my way as often as he likes. And now that we’re within a stone’s throw of one another, I expect one on the regular.

  “I’ve got an announcement to make,” Noah says as he looks to Everett and me.

  Everett’s chest thumps with a dry laugh. “Don’t tell me I’ve chased you out of the neighborhood so soon.”

  “Not funny,” I say, wrapping my arms around Noah. “You’re not moving, are you?”

  “Well”—his head inches back, and his dark brows dance over his eyes like caterpillars—“I sort of am, sort of not. Captain Turner called last night and offered me a position with the sheriff’s department.”

  “What?” I shriek as the rest of the room breaks out into cheers. Noah worked as a detective back in Cincinnati but was fired after he discharged his weapon at the man his ex was cheating on him with. A completely understandable malfeasance in my opinion. I hop up and crash a congratulatory kiss over his lips. “Is it true?”

  “Yes, it’s true.” He looks to Keelie. “Your dad is a great guy. He said I could work alongside Detective Fairbanks since the department is short on staff, and once the probation period is through, he’ll evaluate and see if I can get in for good.”

  A pang of grief hits me, for no other reason than jealousy. Detective Fairbanks just so happens to be a gorgeous leggy redhead with the face and body of a supermodel.

  “But what about your office next to the bank?” The feeble protest sounds both foolish and rife with spite just coming from my lips.

  “I’m keeping it for now. That way if things don’t work out, I’ll have a fallback plan.”

  Everett raises his glass. “They’ll work out.” He frowns as if they wouldn’t. “They didn’t call you the golden kid in high school for nothing.”

  I’m about to demand all the dirty deets concerning my newly minted boyfriend’s high school hazy days when Pancake hisses from the next room.

  “He’s been acting up ever since we set foot in this place,” I say, glancing over. It’s an open floor plan, but with the endless tower of boxes, we’ve effectively walled him in.

  Lainey rolls her eyes. “And you’ve been blaming that poor cat for everything. How about I take Pancake home with me?” She gives a sly wink. “I think he likes me better, anyhow.”

  “You wish.” Another hiss emits from the sofa as I detangle myself from Noah. “I’ll be right back.”

  Keelie starts in, a mile a minute, about how she knew all about Noah’s big surprise and the fact that she put in a good word for him. I’m sure Jack, Captain Turner—I’ve grown up with the man as a second father, so I can’t seem to call him Captain—anyway, I’m positive he’s seen for himself what a great investigator Noah is. I’m thrilled he thought of him to fill the need on the force. I’m not thrilled that he’s working with Detective Redheaded Barbie.

  Another hiss expires and I glance over to the sofa, but there’s not a sign of Pancake.

  I do a quick sweep of the vicinity and spot his rust tipped tail swishing bac
k and forth from under the couch.

  Odd. Pancake’s tail never swishes. In fact, the last time it did so, he thought he was defending me against a giant predator—aka the tiniest, cutest little mouse with big brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

  The door has been open all day. I bet an entire fleet of mice ran in. Just perfect. I happen to detest the thought of mice anywhere near where I sleep or eat, no matter how cute their big brown eyes might be.

  Laughter erupts from the kitchen as Keelie continues to regale them with one bubbly story after the next.

  “Come here, you.” I get down on my knees and do my best to excavate Pancake, but judging by the way his claws are fighting every inch of it, he’s not a willing party. “No, no, no, you have to love this house. I love it so much I want to live here forever, and if that pans out, I can’t have you clawing your way through the furniture. This is your home, too, you know.” I amble back to my feet with Pancake squirming to get out of my arms, but I’m too stubborn to let him go. He cranes his neck past me and hisses so hard I turn in a dizzying spin, fully expecting to find a human-sized rat, but it’s not a rat by far. “Everett,” I pant, closing my eyes for a second. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  “I did?” a deep voice booms from behind, and I spin back on my heels to see the handsome judge on his way toward the door.

  “How’d you do that?” I marvel for a moment.

  “Do what?” he says as Lainey and Keelie come over and offer me a quick embrace before heading out into the icy autumn air.

  “Congratulations again!” Keelie calls out as they make their way to their cars.

  I frown over at Everett “You know…” I glance over my shoulder and spot those glowing blue eyes of his staring right back at me and let out a sharp howl.

  “Whoa.” Noah comes over and takes Pancake from me. “I think your mom is in desperate need of a nap.”

  “And maybe vodka,” I say under my breath. And that’s a big deal, considering the fact I don’t make a practice to drink. Standing behind me a good five feet is Everett. For a second, I scan the vicinity for a mirror because standing in front of me a good five feet is Everett as well. “You wouldn’t happen to have a twin, would you?” I ask weakly.

  Noah pulls me in, his brows pinched in a vexingly sexy V as his concern brews heavy. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m”—I look to Everett, the one standing by the door, as he pulls on his jacket—“I guess maybe I am tired.” So tired I’m hallucinating! Good grief. Unless, of course…

  I suck in a sharp breath and turn my head abruptly to meet up with those piercing blue eyes of Everett’s questionable twin, and it’s then I note the fact I can see my television right through his vellum-like body.

  “Oh God,” I whimper as Noah slips an arm around my waist and pulls me in.

  “I think it’s officially past your bedtime.”

  “Right.” I look back and catch Everett, the solid, earthbound version just as he’s about to step out of the house.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night at the Endeavor awards ceremony.” He grimaces at the two of us. “I promised Collette I’d go. She’s really excited. I couldn’t say no.”

  “You never say no,” Noah is quick to remind him.

  “Yes, for sure I’ll see you th-there,” I stammer.

  “Good.” Everett tweaks his brows. “Collette said to remind you that her boss likes pumpkin spice everything.”

  “Good thing for me, I’m bringing just about everything.”

  He gives a dark chuckle. “Sounds good, Lemon. Goodnight, neighbor.” He gives a brief wave as he closes the door behind him. And just as I’m about to glance back at that specter bearing his resemblance, he strides right past Noah and me. He turns his head and looks at me with those same serious eyes, that all too familiar stern expression firmly on his face, and gives a slight wave as he walks right through the door and out into the night.

  “Hey”—Noah pecks a kiss just under my ear—“I think I’m going to scoot so you can get some rest. You’re starting to look pale. I think maybe you should turn in early.”

  “Oh, I will.” Although I don’t think I’ll be able to catch a wink. “Say, whatever happened to Everett’s father?” I’ve heard Everett mention his mother and sister. I never thought to ask about his father.

  “He died a while back. Everett was in junior high, I think. It was right before my own father came into the picture.” He growls at the memory. “Why? Did he say something?”

  “No, actually, I don’t think he did.”

  Noah shrugs it off. “I wouldn’t think so. His old man was off the table as far as topics went. At least back in the day. I think they had some sort of falling out just before he bit the big one.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “It is. Once someone’s gone, that’s it. You don’t get a chance to make amends. You don’t get to see them again—at least on this side.” He leans in and lands a gentle kiss to my lips before backing away slowly. “I’ll be in Ashford tomorrow filling out some last-minute paperwork down at the sheriff’s department. Good luck with the awards ceremony.” He opens the door and steps out, but his gaze still remains pinned on mine. “I’m open tomorrow night if you’re up for it.”

  “I’ll absolutely be up for it,” I assure him.

  Noah breaks out into his signature killer grin. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  The door clicks softly behind him, and I turn slowly in the direction of Everett’s home.

  Noah is wrong. On occasion you do get to see your loved ones again—at least I do. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a heck of a lot more of Everett’s lookalike phantasm than I ever wanted to.

  One thing is for certain. I’m not letting Everett Baxter out of my sight tomorrow.

  Chapter 36

  Creating a bevy of pumpkin spice everything means running my skeleton crew—mostly on loan from the Honey Pot Diner next door—right down to the weary bone. And since I’ve been baking and moving nonstop for a week solid, I’ve enlisted Everett’s help in getting the goods to the awards venue, which just so happens to be at the Evergreen Manor, an inn right here in Honey Hollow—the only competition to my mother’s B&B.

  “You really need a van, Lemon,” Everett grunts as he lifts the final load of pumpkin pies and pumpkin cheesecakes onto the kitchen counter of the Evergreen. “A refrigerated one at that. It could have saved us three trips at least.”

  I take a moment to glare over at the dearly departed version of him just over his shoulder. I’m still not certain it’s his father—although I’ll go with it for now.

  “A van costs money, and the bakery is just clearing the black each month. I’d have to save for at least a year. Unless, of course—”

  A wicked grin blooms over his face. It’s so rare I can’t help but shed a smile myself, but by the time my lips curve in the right direction, his has evaporated.

  “I know all about the contest in Ashford.” He pats his hands together as we finish up the delivery. Everett looks dapper in a dark inky suit and burnt orange silk tie, a pumpkin-themed hue if ever there was one. “Noah told me about it. Are you entering?”

  “So, the two of you talk about me when I’m not around?” I give a cheeky wink. “Yes, I’m entering. And the grand prize, as I’m sure you’re well aware, is a cargo van equipped with refrigeration. A woman by the name of Crystal Mandrake wins just about every year. She owns a bakery called A Cake Above down in Ashford.” I make a face at the thought. I’ve met Crystal before, and she’s the queen of baking mean. “It’s being held just a few days before Thanksgiving, and I know I’ll be swamped, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

  “You bet you’re going to do it. Even if I have to man that bakery myself. You really need a van. I wouldn’t worry about Crystal Mandrake. I’m pretty sure you have it in the bag. Besides, were you really going to move all this food on your own? It would have taken three trips. Not to mention, cheesecake is heavy.”<
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  “Tell me about it.” I iron out the front of my electric blue dress with my hands, and Everett gives an approving nod.

  “You look good tonight, Lemon.”

  My eyes meet with his, and I can’t help but note there’s a sadness veiled in his gaze.

  The spook behind him attempts to dip a finger into a pumpkin swirl cheesecake, and a breath hitches in my throat.

  “Watch what you’re doing,” I hiss a little too curt, and Everett turns around to follow my gaze.

  “I mean you.” I spin him back my way, my fingers inadvertently digging into his steely muscles. Everett is so fit you’d think he lifted buildings each morning before he ran off to the courthouse.

  “Whoa.” He turns his head just enough as if he suspects something. “You’re not looking at someone’s long-lost pet, are you? And by lost, I mean dead.”

  “No.” I shake my head up at this frightfully handsome devil before me who just so happens to have a frightfully handsome doppelgänger following him wherever he goes. It’s a terrifying thing, really. And I’m not quite sure how Everett would feel about it. My guess is, not good.

  Everett frowns down at me. “Lemon, you called me to your place last night at ten o’clock asking if I’d brush your cat’s hair.”

  I choke in response, unsure of which direction to take this. “Can you blame me? He’s a long-haired cat. And look at you”—I motion up at those luscious black locks—“you are clearly good at men’s hair.”