“So, what does that mean? Your parents were together for a time and then went their separate ways?”
“Divorced.” He winces. “My father married his mother back when we were in high school. My younger brother, Alex, and I moved out to Fallbrook. Let’s just say Everett and his sister weren’t so welcoming. They couldn’t see the good in my father.” He bows his head a moment as he examines the ground. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen it either. Anyway, they were right. Dad pilfered Everett’s poor mother and left her penniless before ditching out of town. Left my brother and me to fend for ourselves after the divorce. My brother went into the Marines, and I went to school, worked full time to get through it. Had a few roommates too many, but I made ends meet and graduated on time. Did my graduate work at Ohio State.”
“And that’s where you met your ex?” I ask cautiously. I of all people understand how thin the ice is in that end of the pond.
“Exactly. So you see, I am not, and never will be, Everett Baxter’s favorite brother.”
“I’m sorry to hear that—all of it. I guess I can understand why Everett would be upset with your father, but I still don’t think that’s any reason to treat you that way.” I take a bite out of my sandwich, but my gaze never leaves his. Noah’s eyes are magnetic, twin green marbles that throw shadow and light, and it’s as if my own eyes don’t want to miss the show.
“That’s very nice of you to say. But we had our differences, too. High school was a trying time in general, and I sort of walked up on his turf. He was one year ahead of me in school, but it still made for tight quarters. He’s a judge now, though.” He shakes his head as if he can’t believe it. “He’s made a success of his life, and I’ve made a mess of mine. I believe he predicted that way back when. I’ve always hated disappointing people.” His chest rumbles with a dark laugh.
“That’s a terrible thing to say.” A moment bounces by with the two of us lost in one another’s eyes.
“Tell me about New York. Not about Columbia. About what really happened.” He gives a sober nod.
“Boy, you’re really gifted when it comes to reading people, aren’t you?” I set my food aside and scoot in closer as the breeze whistles around us, cold as the blade of a knife. I take a breath and look out across the meadow as the grass blows in waves, and I want nothing more than to dive in and forget all of my problems. “His name was Curtis. Graduate student. Business school.” I pull my legs up on the bench and hug my knees. “I thought that was it. After I left Honey Hollow and the heartbreak Bear imparted—”
“Bear? You mean Otis Fisher? The guy currently taking a sledgehammer to the loan department next door? He’s been in my office a few times trying to repair the cracks he’s made.”
“That would be him.” It takes all of my strength to admit it. Deep down, I’m still a little more than upset with Bear. “Bear cracked my heart way back when, and I thought it was the end of the world until Curtis shattered it to pieces. It made anything I went through with Bear feel like a day at the amusement park—all of the rides made me want to vomit, but still. Curtis proposed.” My face grows so hot I’m sure my cheeks are about to combust. I’m pretty sure there is not a more hideous sight in the world than sitting next to someone whose head spontaneously bursts into flames. “Anyway, I called it off after my roommate decided Curtis might like her bed better. I came home early from work and found his wallet on the floor. His clothes were tossed around the floor like dirty laundry, and then I found something far dirtier on her mattress than I ever wanted to see.” I glance to the amber sky reflectively. “My roommate just had her boobs done. Did you know they don’t move the same afterwards?”
Noah barks out a laugh that quickly softens to something sorrowful. “I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing that happened to you. You’re better off without him.”
“I know, but as pitiful as it sounds, it took me a while to get that through my thick head. I guess I’ve always felt like a castoff, unwanted, unlovable. Deep in my heart I knew Curtis and I were too good to be true.” Tears come uninvited, and I’m quick to blink them away. “My mother left me in a firehouse when I was just a few hours old. Not a stitch of clothing on. Still had my umbilical cord attached.” I wipe a lone tear away before it has the chance to roll down my cheek. “My dad found me, took me home, and the rest is Lemon family history as my mother likes to say.”
“And that’s how you became Lottie Lemon.” He examines me with a warm smile, his tender eyes taking in my features. “That’s a beautiful story. And you’re wrong. You are no castoff. It was a great mercy you ended up in that firehouse that day. The Lemons sound like wonderful people.”
“They are.”
The wind picks up with a violent force and blows our napkins all over the place as if they were confetti. Noah and I laugh while chasing down every last one. We put our food away and start in on a walk around the trailhead that leads to a viewpoint through the forest to our left. The winding dirt trail is rife with rocks and pinecones, so Noah takes up my hand as we head up. His fingers are warm and sure, strong and thick, and I drink down the feel of them against my own. We get to the top and his grip loosens a moment, but I firm my grasp over his.
“It’s okay,” I say it so soft the wind carries my voice right up into the boughs above us. “I don’t mind.”
The hint of a smile twitches on his lips as his hand tightens a bit over mine.
“Good. I don’t mind either.”
Noah and I walk to the edge of the scenic lookout, hand in hand, my heart doing its best to drill right through my chest, my adrenaline hitting its zenith. But we don’t look out at the golden glory below us. We’re not at all interested in this new vantage point to examine the majesty nature has on display. Our gaze remains firmly locked over one another.
Noah leans in, and my eyes widen a notch. It’s happening. Noah Corbin Fox is going for the kill, and I can’t help but hold my breath in anticipation. A smile twitches on his lips as he bows in and brushes his lips over mine with a barely there pass, and my body pulsates with a heartbeat all its own. A sudden wave of dizziness hits me as my eyes remain closed, and I would swear on all that is good and right that the world just swayed beneath my feet.
He pulls back as his Adam’s apple rises and falls. “I would apologize, but I’m not in the least bit sorry.”
My lips part, but nothing comes out as a laugh gets locked in my throat. “Me neither.” I hike up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his and feel their softness before I open for him and let him in. Noah Fox kisses me tenderly, sweetly, and then with a greater intensity, something darker and deeper. There have been many kisses in my life, but none as beautiful, none this alive and electrifying.
Noah and I spend a couple of unapologetic hours with our arms wrapped around one another, our bodies sealed at the lips.
The ground spins beneath my feet again, and I wrap my arms around him to keep from falling. But I’m falling in a far different way. I can feel it. No matter how much I swore it would never happen again, it’s too late.
It’s happening.
And I can’t do a thing about it.
* * *
We’re late to the game, missing the entire first half. But we cheer with the crowd as the Ashford Spartans beat their crosstown rivals. I watched Coach Hagan as much as I did the game.
“This is great,” I say as we head to the field long after the stands have all but cleared. “He’ll be in a good mood. I bet we can ask him anything.”
“That’s the thing.” Noah pulls his hand from mine and takes a few giant steps ahead while walking backwards. “You’re going to stand safely on the sidelines while I do the talking. If he’s the one we’re after, there’s no way I’m putting you in harm’s way.”
“Aren’t you adorable.” I can’t help but frown as I speed past him. “But I don’t need you to protect me, Noah. I can handle myself. I come from a long line of strong women.” At least those that I know of.
I spot Coach Hagan
just finishing up an interview and pull the hood of my wool coat halfway over my face. “Coach! Just a few questions.” I jog up to him before glancing back to where Noah looks on disapprovingly. “I’m with the Ashford Times. Where did you pull that last-minute energy out from? The chips were down, but you rallied in that last half and came back to life.” Chips were down? Are there chips in football? I think not. And came back to life? Well, at least that’s heading in the right direction—onto my next topic, death.
He babbles on something akin to Latin to me, and I nod along as if I understand everything about that long-drive, punt, Hail Mary of a conversation.
“Sounds great.” I take a small step in. “I would like to offer my condolences. I understand a colleague of yours was brutally murdered in Honey Hollow. Do you have anything you’d like to say about that? Perhaps a word of comfort to her family? Is there a good memory you had of the victim that you would like to be made public?” Made public? Nobody wants their dirty laundry aired anywhere near their fellow neighbor! Maybe I should have let Noah work his dark magic after all.
Coach Hagan takes in a sharp breath and holds it as his attention drifts toward the empty stands for a moment. “You think you know someone. You give up everything, and then you find out it was all a lie,” he says the word under his breath, and it’s all I can do to strain to hear it. His jaw clenches. “Tell her family I’m sorry it happened. It’s a terrible, terrible thing.” He starts to walk off, and I jump in his path.
“It sounds like you really knew her.” I need something else. Something that confirms he was angry enough to kill her, but my brain can’t seem to spit out the right words.
He shakes his head as he steps around me. “Turns out, I didn’t know her at all.”
I watch as he disappears out the gate along with the trickling of what’s left of the crowd.
Noah steps in beside me. “Well, Detective Lemon? What’s the verdict? Is the coach a killer?”
“I think he just might be.”
Chapter 14
The secret to a successful piecrust is not to skimp on the butter or shortening, whichever the recipe calls for. The key to a delicious crust is to not over mix the chilled water when adding the aforementioned ingredients to the flour. It is a delicate dance of well-timed, well-orchestrated ingredients that if done right will produce an amazing flaky crust that is guaranteed to melt in your mouth.
Some people choose to go for a run, get a massage, or even veg out and watch TV to help alleviate the stress in their lives, but for me baking has always been my solace. I’ve found that the ingredients need me to make a successful dessert a reality, and in a way I need them, too.
“You kissed him?” Lainey shouts with an undue level of excitement as she hops into her stilettos. My sister might work in a library, but she’s been known to glam it up on more than one occasion. By every definition, Lainey is the hot librarian.
Keelie leans against the baking counter, eager to hear once again all about that magical lip-lock, and I shoo her right back off. Thankfully, we’re in the rear of the Honey Pot’s kitchen, a safe distance from the prying ears around us. “Sorry.” She swipes a piece of a chopped apple from the mixing bowl, already drenched in thick, rich caramel sauce and moans as she bites into it. The entire restaurant is filled with the heavenly scent of warm caramel apple pie. “Of course, she kissed him. I didn’t raise no fool. That man is a force of nature to be reckoned with. She was simply showing him who’s boss.” Her lips curl, and I can practically see her undressing Noah in her mind’s eye.
“For the record, he kissed me first. And well, I didn’t want to be rude, so I kissed him back.”
The two of them sigh in unison.
“You’re both being ridiculous. It was nothing. It was just a kiss among friends, I guess.” It sure didn’t feel like nothing. My body still trembles just thinking about those oven-hot kisses we shared yesterday.
I shake myself loose from the thought. “Look, the Apple Festival is less than two days away, and I need to get these pies done and delivered by Tuesday. Holland called and said he wants the pies there early to help set up.”
Keelie and Lainey watch mesmerized as my fingers work slowly to lace the lattice over each and every cutie pie, and there are hundreds of them lining every surface area in the Honey Pot. I’ve only got a couple of ovens to work with, and, at that, it will take hours to bake all of these pies.
“Someone’s changing the subject.” Lainey puts down her purse for the first time in an hour and washes her hands to help.
“The subject should never be on me to begin with. Merilee was just buried hours ago, and her killer is still prowling the mean streets of Honey Hollow.”
Keelie scoffs at the analogy. “Please, there’s not a person who lives here who’s capable of carrying out an act like that. Have you considered that it might be a total stranger? Some crazed psychotic from the city coming in for a tour of the orchard? I spoke with my father. He said there was an uptick in foot traffic at the apple farm that day.”
“Your father still hasn’t crossed me off the suspect list.” I shoot her a sour look without meaning to.
“It’s a formality,” she over annunciates the word because she’s already repeated it to me a half dozen times.
Lainey stands across from me and ties an apron on. “So, who do you think did it?”
“I don’t know.” My mind swirls with the possibilities. “For sure I didn’t have a thing to do with it.” That long-departed orange tabby flits through my mind, and I give a guilty glance to both my best friend and my sister but don’t breathe a word. The last thing I need is for them to question my sanity. Lord knows I’ve done that enough on my own. “Mom got Eve Hollister to talk, and it turns out, it was Melissa Hagan, Coach Hagan’s wife. She’s pretty petite. I don’t know if she’d have the strength to plunge that knife in and out so fast and make a break for it. But then she did look fit. Coach Hagan was seeing Merilee. He all but confirmed it.”
“So strange.” Lainey tries to steal an apple slice from a cutie pie, and I bat her hand away. “I mean the fact you said Merilee potentially had two boyfriends.”
Keelie grunts, “The fact she had one and I have none makes me question everything. She was so angry and bitter all the time. Is that what men are looking for? Angry and bitter?”
“Nope,” a male voice rumbles from our left, and we look over to find a smiling Noah Fox. My heart thumps out a riot just for him as I smile back.
“Welcome to my kitchen, detective. We were just going over suspects and motives. I’m thinking Melissa could have been angry enough to do it.”
“I agree.” He leans against the wall and folds his arms over that enormous chest of his. Noah is pretty fit, too. It’s been mere hours since we last saw one another, and yet my mouth is already watering for more of those delicious kisses. “Anger can trump strength, I can assure you of that.”
That note crops up in my mind, but I submerge it once again.
“Then there’s Moose—Coach Hagan himself.” I think on it for a moment. “He’s determined to win on and off the field. He had that kind of a fire in his belly. Not to mention, his off-handed comment about people not being trustworthy still has me rattled.” I told them all about it. Lainey thought I should have reported that to the sheriff’s department right away, but I can’t help but think something isn’t clicking. “He’s got kids, though. I can’t see him throwing away his whole life just because he was scorned by a woman.”
Keelie waves me off. “Prison cells are full of men just like that.”
“She’s right,” Noah is quick to agree. “Then there’s boyfriend number two.”
Keelie shakes her head as she hurries to swallow down her next mouthful of caramelized apples. “Travis Darren? Naomi was wrong. I bet she mixed him up with Coach Hagan.”
Lainey holds up a finger. “I bet you’re right! Travis Darren could have been a code name for her real boy toy.”
I groan at the visua
l. “And then there’s—” I’m about to bring up one other name just as Noah interjects.
“Me.” He blinks a sad smile my way. “I just got a call. Captain Turner wants me down in Ashford in a half hour to interrogate me.”
“What?” the three of us cry out in unison.
“There’s no way,” I protest while struggling to remove my apron. “I’m coming along. You had nothing at all to do with this.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m not worried about it. And you shouldn’t be either. Stay here and bake pies. I’ll be back soon enough.”
“You can’t stop me,” I say, coming toward him, my fingers still fumbling to free me of the bird’s nest I’ve just turned my apron strings into.
“And you can’t change my mind.” He bows slightly toward Keelie and Lainey before waving his way out the door. “I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have my number!” I shout.
My phone bleats, and I head over to find a text.
I’m a detective, Lottie. I have my ways.
A laugh lives and dies in my chest. “He has his ways, indeed.”
I get back to the all-important task of baking, and before long, Nell is standing in our midst.
“Well, girls?” Nell casts those beautiful sparkling blue eyes my way when she says it. “A little birdy just told me there was a delivery next door this afternoon.”
“What?” I squeal so loud the head chef barrels over just to make sure an avalanche of apples wasn’t crushing me. “I didn’t even notice. How could this have happened right under my nose?”
Keelie gives a sly wink. “I made sure she didn’t set foot outside the restaurant today.”
Lainey offers a knowing smile. “And I made sure to be here for the big reveal.”
“Shall we?” Nell holds out her arm, and I thread mine through it as we make our way next door where a shower of light pours into the night.
Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies: Murder in the Mix 1 Page 11