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

by Addison Moore

  A redheaded stunner stops short of where we’re standing. “Detective Fox, you are here as a professional. Might I remind you this is not a booty call.” She stalks off toward the stage while shouting orders at the medics.

  “A what?” I laugh as I loosen my hold on him. The last thing I want to do is get him thrown off the force before he’s even begun. “Nobody says booty call anymore.” I snarl over at Detective Fairbanks. I’m betting she’s just jealous she’s not the one getting booty from Noah. I don’t need a road map to know where her affections lie. I saw the way she looked at him all last month while they worked on Hunter’s murder investigation together. Suffice it to say, I was not impressed.

  “She’s right.” Noah’s plucks a small notebook from his pocket. “Let’s have it, Lot. What are your thoughts?”

  “You want my thoughts?” I’m suddenly flattered and blushing—two things I might add, that are also most likely inappropriate to be feeling while there’s a corpse less than twenty feet away.

  “Yes.” He bobs his head as if it were a given, those deep emerald eyes pinned hard over mine. “You have a keen sense of observation. And from what I gather, you were seated at the same table.”

  I quickly relay the events of the night, one by one—Collette’s possessiveness over Everett, Everett’s theory about her bringing him here to make someone jealous, the argument they had, her argument with Mr. Rutherford, the humiliation she endured, the best friend, the co-worker who insisted Collette took her job, and, of course, poor Josh, who Collette rejected, only to have him be the only one willing to administer oxygen when she needed it most.

  “Okay, that’s good.” Noah hardly has a chance to look up when Ivy Fairbanks shoves her lips to his ear. He nods while giving me a sideways glance. “I see.” She takes off again, and he’s left sniffing the air as if girding himself for what comes next. “Just so you know, the sheriff’s department is issuing a search warrant for both the bakery and your home.” He blows out a heavy breath. “I’ll have to take you down to Ashford for questioning, get your fingerprints on file, that sort of thing.”

  “Good grief.”

  Everett pops up, and I squint over at him as if assessing if he’s the real deal or that ghost that’s been haunting the vicinity. And how strange is it that Collette was the one that bit the big one?

  I suck in a sharp breath. “Everett, did you eat the pie? My God, you could have poison coursing through your bloodstream right this minute!”

  Noah balks, “Lottie, are you implicating yourself?”

  “No.” My hands wave wildly in his face. “I’m not, I swear. It’s just that Collette’s last word was poison and she was clutching her throat, so I just assumed that someone laced her food or drink and maybe somebody else’s.” Those last few words trail off as that handsome specter comes over with a blooming grin. “What do you want?” I hiss at him without meaning to.

  Noah glances over his shoulder at the podium before looking to me. “Lottie, what were you doing here at the table?”

  Naomi pops up over my shoulder, and I jump. “I can answer that. She was on a date.” She manufactures a wicked smirk at Everett. “And boy was Collette pissed to see it.” She takes off after stirring the pot adequately to her liking. It’s well past Halloween, but Naomi still wears her proverbial witch’s hat loud and proud.

  Noah’s mouth opens as he looks from Everett to me. “You were his date?” He winces as if trying to process it all.

  “I can explain.”

  Everett steps in close, and that suspicious look in his eyes doesn’t bode well for me. “Who were you talking to just a moment ago?”

  “I can explain that, too.”

  Noah hitches a thumb to the podium. “I’d better see what’s going on up there.” He takes off, and a cloud of grief weighs heavy on me.

  Everett’s chest expands a mile wide. “What’s going on? Did you see one of those things—those creatures from the great beyond?” Everett looks both angry and remorseful that he needed to verbalize such a ludicrous thing. “Collette is dead, Lemon. Please, tell me right now if you somehow were able to predict this.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” That ghost of his glowers over at me as if he were angry to be here. “It’s not my fault. Maybe Collette didn’t have pets?” I whisper in hopes not a living soul in the room hears this asinine conversation.

  Everett straightens. “You saw a person?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Law of deduction.” He shuffles us to the side of the ballroom. “Who was she?”

  “It was a he and I don’t know exactly, but I have a pretty good idea.”

  A heavy sigh expires from him as he considers this. “Maybe it was her father or a grandfather?”

  “Or maybe it was your father?” I shrink a little as I say it. “You wouldn’t happen to have a picture of him on your phone, would you?” The lookalike specter walks up and stands shoulder to shoulder with Everett, and their resemblance is uncanny. “Never mind. I don’t think I’ll need it.”

  Everett leans in, his eyes narrowed over mine. “Did you say my father?”

  “That’s right. I can’t be a hundred percent certain, but I’d bet a soul or two.”

  The wily specter gives a barely-there wink, and I gasp.

  “It is him!”

  “Geez,” Everett exhales in exasperation and pinches his eyes shut.

  “I’m sorry.” No sooner do I land my arm over him than I spot Noah’s eyes popping in this direction, so I pull my arm right back as if snatching it from a fire. “It must be very hard to hear that. I don’t know what’s going on. This is certainly breaking protocol with everything I’ve ever known, which wasn’t much to begin with.”

  He glares at the air around him for a moment. “You can tell my father to go away. I don’t want him here.”

  My mouth falls open as I look to the seemingly unmoved poltergeist amongst us. “I’m sure he heard, but nonetheless he’s not going anywhere.”

  “Then I will.” Everett takes off for the hall, leaving me standing there staring at his ghost of a father.

  “You heard him.” I try to shoo him away with my hands. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

  He shakes his head, slow and serious. Dear God, he’s just as ornery as his son.

  “Is Everett in danger?”

  He studies my features, one inch at a time, as if there would be a quiz on them later. Not one spooky visitor from the other side has ever spoken to me—and for the most part, I’m thrilled about it, considering the fact I learned in Sunday school that mediums were heavily frowned upon at Honey Hollow’s Covenant Church. And then an idea hits me. We could play a quick game of charades, and I could guess what his mission might be. That’s totally different than communicating with the dead—oh, wait…

  “Look”—I sigh just as heavy as his son did—“I don’t know what you want, but your son didn’t die today. Someone else did.” I turn a bit so that I’m facing the wall in the event Ivy Fairbanks spots me chatting away with myself and escorts me straight to the psych ward. “If you have unfinished business with your son, I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. I’m no expert in living relationships let alone ones that are well past their prime.”

  He glowers at me, and those eyes of his beacon out bright as warning signals. He lifts his arm and points hard my way before pointing to himself, then in the direction Everett took off in. And just like that, he evaporates.

  A tiny whimper escapes me. It’s unnerving enough when an animal pulls a disappearing act like that let alone a once-upon-a-human.

  Me, him, and Everett.

  I wonder what that means?

  Something tells me I’m about to find out.

  Chapter 38

  Noah Fox presses his hooded gaze to mine, those hypnotic marbled eyes taking me in as if we were about to indulge in a feast of flesh.

  “Right hand,” he says, helping me hold my fingers over the small device that lights up neon green as
it captures my prints. “Thumb.” I’m quick to comply, and we do the left hand, too.

  The Ashford County Sheriff’s Department is a boxy white building with white linoleum floors, plain black desks, a few cubicles, a few mysterious halls, and a holding tank somewhere in the back.

  “So, am I getting thrown in the pokey?” I can’t help but take a stab at humor. Although, I’m not laughing, and I don’t suspect I will be for some time to come. Just because I didn’t see eye to eye with Collette doesn’t mean I wanted her dead. Come to think of it, I probably should have said that out loud.

  “Don’t worry.” Noah pulls my hand forward and lands a kiss on my fingertip. “Nobody thinks you’re guilty.”

  “Except for the people who think I did it.” I hold my phone up for him to see. “This is a picture Keelie sent me. Apparently, the bakery is under siege. Dozens of sheriff’s deputies are currently sweeping through the place, and word on the street is they plan on being there well into the morning.”

  “I’m sorry.” He glances past me. “Look, you answered all the questions we had for you. And we now have your fingerprints on file. How about I give you a ride home?” His lids hood slightly once again, and my heart thumps hard against my chest. Noah Fox is a ball of testosterone, and he can’t help but permeate the vicinity with it.

  “It sounds perfect. I’d love nothing more than to spend some serious alone time with you.”

  An icy breeze slices through my clothes as Ivy Fairbanks whisks into the room and hastily takes off her jacket.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Fox. I’ve got an entire list of suspects we need to comb through. Starting with”—she spins on her heel and stops short when she spots me—“Carlotta Lemon.”

  “It’s Lottie, please. Nobody calls me that.” There is not a person in my life who refers to me as Carlotta. I’ve been Lottie since the day I landed in the Lemons’ arms. “Carlotta is more or less a formality.”

  She folds her arms across her chest, that smug look riding high on her perfect little face. “And these are formal circumstances.” She looks to Noah. “Has she undergone questioning and been fingerprinted?”

  “Yes and yes.” He winces my way because we both know what’s coming next.

  “Then she’s free to go. You, however, are not. We need to sift through the suspect list. Our chances of catching the killer is best within—”

  “The first twenty-four hours,” Noah finishes for her. “I know.”

  “I can help,” I gladly volunteer. “I mean, I was there. I heard and saw everything.”

  “No.” Ivy doesn’t even bother to look up at me. “The last thing we need is a civilian tainting the case. So, unless you have a confession ready to bubble out of you, I suggest you leave the premises.”

  My mouth falls open. “Confession?” I practically mouth the word to Noah as he walks me to the door. “But you’re my ride. I’ll wait out in the hall. Besides, I need some of those soothing kisses you dole out if I’m ever going to fall asleep tonight,” I whisper that last part.

  “I heard that,” Ivy chimes as she continues to busy herself with paperwork. I bet it’s all fake. Who works with paper anymore? The entire department has crossed over to software and computers. It’s like she’s living in the Stone Age.

  Noah presses out a warm smile. “I’ll arrange for a car to take you home.”

  “An official sheriff’s car? No way. Word will spread around town, and they’ll have me in stocks by noon. The people of Honey Hollow do not play games. The last thing I need is to be paraded around town in the back of a cruiser. It’s bad enough the boys in blue are pilfering the bakery. I’ll have to toss out half my stock just to rid it of their germs.” I run my fingers down his tie and look up at this gorgeous man before me. “I’ll wait.”

  His dimples ignite with a grimace. “No can do. This could take hours, and I’d never want to steal a moment of sleep from you. Can you call someone?”

  “To come all the way to Ashford?”

  Noah tips his head with a look of remorse. “Everett will do it.”

  “No way. No thank you.” Just the thought of Everett and his unhappy haunting makes me want to shudder. “I know just the person to call.”

  “Great.” He presses a warm kiss over my lips, just enough to keep me wanting more. “Remember, Lot, stay out of my investigation. I need you safe.”

  I tip my head back and withhold the urge to snarl. “Will do.” I head out of the station and into the night.

  Keelie absolutely refused to drive to Ashford. Refused to pick up her very best friend. Although, in her defense, she did say she was close to getting a number from an exceptionally adorable sheriff’s deputy. It’s nice to know I come first except when I don’t. I’d call Lainey, but I know for a fact she’ll be getting up in three short hours. She’s always been an early riser—and she’s also the head of the Honey Hollow Library, where I happen to know she works a shift tomorrow. My mother would die a thousand deaths if I asked her to pick me up at the sheriff’s department. So that just leaves one person.

  Otis Bear Fisher rolls up in his beat-up truck with a magnetic sign slapped to the side reading Fisher Construction. Repairs, Additions, and More!

  “What’s up, Lot?” He nods as I get in and buckle up. Bear is my ex and for good reason. Sure, he’s a gorgeous fair-haired surfer type—without a single wave to hit in the great state of Vermont—but he cheated on me something awful, and it’s an experience I never want to repeat. Columbia—and what I lovingly refer to as the New York debacle—runs through my mind, and I let it run right back out. Lord knows I don’t have time to ruminate on how all of my exes have done me wrong. Especially not while Noah is trapped in that Ivy tower. I’m sure she was counting the seconds until she was alone with him just to hogtie him with those long red tendrils of hers.

  “So, did they throw the book at you?” He chuckles as we head onto the highway.

  “Very funny. You know I didn’t kill Collette.”

  He shakes his head wistfully. “It’s Hunter all over again. I’d worry about a serial killer, but thankfully Stella got put away.” Stella Morgan was the stripper who happened to have Hunter’s baby and then killed poor Hunter as a means to keep him from his child. I’m just glad she’s getting the help she needs. “I can’t believe Collette’s dead. I’m in the middle of replacing her water heater. I still need to get some of my tools out of her house.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’ve got a key.” A sly smile rides over his face as he gives a slight chuckle into the road.

  “Why are you laughing? Oh my God!” It hits me like a ton of pornographic bricks. “You were with Collette, weren’t you?”

  “Long after we were through. Besides, that’s been over for a while. But yeah, she gave me a key. Said I could come over whenever I wanted.”

  “Whenever you wanted?” Something quasi-illegal is brewing within me. I can feel it. “So, the neighbors are used to seeing you walk in and out of her home?” A rush of adrenaline kicks in right along with what I’m guessing is a very bad idea.

  “That’s right. And no, I’m not taking you. I’m sure the sheriffs will have that place on lockdown come morning.”

  “True. But they’re sort of busy at the bakery at the moment.” I glance over to Bear and shrug as he looks my way.

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes. They’ll be there in just a few hours. You said so yourself. We’ll be in and out, I promise.”

  “What?” He wheezes as he leans toward the wheel. “What in the heck are you looking for?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know that someone is setting me up, and I need to get to the bottom of this before things escalate. Maybe she left a note, a to-do list, or maybe she has a casserole she forgot in the oven, and I can turn it off before the entire place burns down.”

  “First, we both know Collette has never eaten a casserole let alone baked one. Second, every last list she ever wrote was on her phone, and I�
��m pretty sure she had it with her tonight.”

  “Fine.” I fold my arms over my chest in a fit of desperation. “Then I’ll just help you pick up your tools and we’ll leave. Once they have that place under quarantine, it might be weeks before you see them again.” He starts to say something, and I hold up a finger. “Do not argue with me, Bear Fisher. In the event you’ve forgotten, I helped track down Hunter’s killer. You owe me.”

  “Fine. But if I get arrested for breaking and entering—”

  “It’s not breaking and entering if you have a key.” I hope.

  “Let’s just say I’m not opposed to throwing you under the bus if we’re caught.”

  “We never were much of a team to begin with.”

  * * *

  Collette Jenner lives in a densely populated neighborhood filled with professionals who regularly commute to Ashford. A few years back, Honey Hollow was pegged as a desirable bedroom community for those looking to reduce their housing costs. But what they save in housing they lose in gas. Ashford is still a decent ride away.

  The streetlamp above Collette’s tiny Tudor blinks on and off every few seconds, giving the neighborhood a haunted appeal. Her house is shrouded with mist, the walkway damp and slippery as Hunter leads us around back and lets us in through a door that opens into the kitchen. He flicks on the lights, and my stomach explodes in a vat of acid.

  “What did you do that for?” I bat my hand at him.

  “Because if we walk around with flashlights, I’m pretty sure that suggests we’re doing something wrong. I’m just here to get my tools, remember?”

  “Oh right,” I say, casting a quick glance around. Her cabinets are bone white, and the counter has a dark green slab of granite sitting over it. It looks staged, cold and sterile, like a showroom you might see at a hardware store. There’s not one sign of human occupation in sight, and I can’t say I’m too surprised. “I’ll be right back.”