New York Cheesecake Chaos (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 8)

by Addison Moore

“Do you happen to know if Felicity came into any money recently?”

  “Are you kidding? Felicity doesn’t even have enough change to take advantage of two tacos for a dollar on Taco Tuesday. She’s living off fumes. I’m sure she’ll be selling my aunt’s house as soon as it’s released to her.”

  Could that spreadsheet from Martinelle Finance have been wrong? Maybe there was one too many zeros added at the end? But somehow, I doubt that.

  “That’s too bad. I’m sure she’ll figure it out soon, though.” I look to Curt. “I’m sure you can commiserate on being between a financial rock and a broke hard place. Care to share why?” I figure if I continue to shake him down he’ll eventually spill the impoverished beans.

  Curt glares at me as if I’ve committed the ultimate malfeasance before grabbing Rigby by the hand and taking off for Pepper Patrick pastures.

  Lainey winces. “That went well. I’d better get in there, too. Don’t take too long out here. After the last incident we had in this place, it’s creepy being apart from the crowd.”

  Lainey and Meg take off, and no sooner do I load my arms up with empty boxes than Chrissy Nash, the mayor’s ex-wife, skips over. Her blonde hair is frazzled as if she ran all the way here, but her pink and green tweed skirt and matching blazer make her look impeccable nonetheless.

  “Lottie! Your mother told me you agreed to stock the Bonnet Festival with treats. Oh, I’m so very excited for this. If you can somehow incorporate this decadent cheesecake into it, I’ll be forever grateful. Your mother brought over a couple after that last fiasco. Poor Rhonda. Anyway, it was a shame to let all that cheesecake go to waste. The book club has been the lucky beneficiary to all that wholesome dairy goodness. Your cheesecake is simply our favorite!” She waves and blows me a kiss as she takes off for the crowd.

  “Consider it done! I’ll make cheesecake bites!” I shout as I make my way to the back and out pops yet another familiar yet slightly bedraggled face.

  “I know you!” Rags Bojangles flashes that brilliant smile. He’s ditched his white robe, and he’s back to sporting his dingy ratted out jeans, a dirty sweatshirt that reads I’d rather be skiing, and a red bandana dangles nonsensically from one of his belt loops.

  “Hey! It’s nice to see you out and about. Are you sure that’s legal?” I wince as I say it.

  “Probably not, but I’ve quit the Seekers. Red Satin is bringing me in full-time, and there’s a hot little number there I’ve really taken a liking to. I think for the first time ever I might be getting over my ex.”

  “Congratulations. Believe me, I know how hard that can be.” Noah is proving to be impossible to get over. “Hey, can I ask you a question about Martinelle Finance?”

  His expression sours as if he weren’t pleased I was in the know. “Shoot.”

  “If someone was a go-between and drumming up business for them, what would that be called?”

  “A hotlink.” He shrugs. “Most of the dudes down at Martinelle are Italian, so their code words are directly related to Italian food.”

  “I happen to like Italian food myself.” Just like Noah. “So, if that hotlink wanted to score a huge loan—say one hundred grand, would that be a problem?” I’m starting to think Rhonda never got the money, and neither did Felicity.

  “Hotlinks deal in small sums, but it can go up to fifty K. For them to score that much, it would have to go to a direct family member of a very trusted hotlink—we’re talking blood-related. Otherwise, it would have to go straight through Martinelle. And believe me, I know. I’m under apprenticeship with the big boss. He’s priming me to work in insurance.”

  “Sounds perfectly terrible.” I shrug. “Sorry.”

  “No offense taken.” He cranes his neck at the crowd. “And there she is! I knew she’d show. That’s the girl from Red Satin that’s stolen my heart.”

  “The only girl I see in there who works for Red Satin is my—Meg.” I straighten as he starts to take off and then backtracks.

  He snaps his fingers as if something were coming to him. “About that big loan. Sometimes the hotlink will stretch the truth a little. The loan may not be for blood but for a close friend. It’s happened. It’s just a way to get around the red tape. But that hotlink would have to trust that person with their life or they’d risk losing everything.”

  “Including their life?” I whisper the words, afraid to even have said them.

  “Maybe. But mostly they like to keep it clean. A broken bone maybe if it was a guy, but the women have it easy. They lose privileges. Believe me, it hurts just as much in the end.” He takes off with a wave.

  “Hurts in the end!” Macon caws his way over. He’s emanating a glowing aura this afternoon, looking quite ethereal with blue and green sparks shooting off around him.

  “I need a favor.” I lean in close and instruct him to get to the B&B and have a poltergeist powwow with Greer Giles and her two-hundred-year-old main squeeze. “I want Noah’s little date night to be more of a fright night.”

  His feathers flutter and shudder. “Why do you care who this detective is dating?”

  “Because it hurts. And he and Cormack are just not right together. Take my word for it.” No sooner do I say the words than Noah steps into the foyer with Everett trailing behind.

  I quickly shoo Macon away and head over to them.

  “Looks like the cavalry is here.” I hand them each a couple of empty boxes, and they help take them to the van just outside the door. “Let’s get back in there and take a seat. I was promised a show, and Lord knows I’m ready to be entertained.”

  We head on in and the first few rows are packed tight, but there are still plenty of empty chairs in the back.

  Everett leans in as Pepper Patrick makes a fashionable entrance with her shock of pink hair, her black turtleneck and matching black velour skirt.

  “Lemon, you think we should talk to Pepper?”

  My mouth opens as I consider it. “I guess we should. If anything, it’ll buy us a few minutes alone with literary royalty.”

  Everett’s lips pull into a line. “Or the killer.”

  “Or that.”

  Pepper starts off by thanking everyone for coming and lets us know she’s about to share an exclusive cover reveal for her next book, and the crowd goes wild as if she just promised each person here a brand new car.

  A light tap falls on my shoulder, and I turn to find Willow giving me a quick wave. “Hey, I think you left the door open to your van. I was just out there helping Jana bring in an arrangement we’re going to surprise Pepper with.” She wiggles her shoulders with excitement as she traipses to the front.

  Noah nods my way. “I’ll check it out.”

  “No, thank you,” I say, making my way past him. “I’m perfectly capable of closing the door myself.”

  Everett leans in. “I could have sworn I shut the door.”

  Noah scoffs. “And you obviously couldn’t do it right.”

  “Please,” I whisper as I make my way out to the foyer and, sure enough, the van door is wide open. I head out and give it a hearty slam before making my way back inside and note a red splotch on the floor over near the rear of the foyer, and my heart begins to race. That suspicious red splotch is just a hop and a skip from the employee lounge where Rhonda’s body was discovered.

  My feet speed over without my permission, but I’m relieved to see it’s just a bandana, the same bandana Rags had dangling from his jeans.

  A couple of bodies speed in this direction, and it’s Noah and Everett, their faces rife with concern.

  “It’s just a silly bandana.” I wave it at them as if it were a flag. “And I know who it belongs to.”

  Noah looks at it as if it were a corpse, and Everett gives a suspicious glance around the vicinity.

  “Oh, come on, you guys. Nothing is happening here today. Look”—I say as I lead us back to the employee lounge—“it’s not as if we’re about to find a body.”

  No sooner do the words leave my mouth than we
stumble upon a body lying on the floor with a white plastic bag shoved over its head, a bright yellow smiley face staring up at us emblazed over the top. That body just so happens to be wearing a familiar pair of dingy jeans and a grimy sweatshirt that reads I’d rather be skiing.

  I gasp at the sight. “That’s Rags Bojangles! And dear God, I think he’s just been killed.”

  Everything about this scene looks far too familiar.

  It looks as if Rhonda Gilbert’s killer struck again.

  Chapter 14

  “He’s dead.” Words I’m loath to hear coming out of my own mouth.

  A shoe twitches beneath us, and Everett falls to his knees. “I don’t think he’s dead.” He plucks the bag with its creepy yellow smiley face off the poor man’s head, and horrifyingly enough, there’s a white cloth stuffed into his mouth. Everett frees him of that too while Noah shouts into his phone for backup.

  Noah takes off, and I can hear his voice booming through the library asking if there are any medical professionals available. Soon enough, the room is flooded with a handful of men and women, and Rags Bojangles is being carted off on a gurney.

  I step over to Noah and Everett who are whispering among themselves.

  “This means the killer is here! And they’re repeating the crime with another body.”

  Noah grimaces. “Or the killer left.”

  Everett sighs. “But every suspect we have is out in the main room. We’re either on the right track or—”

  “Or we’re very wrong,” I finish for him.

  Noah hitches his head toward the foyer. “Come on. In the least we can observe the body language of those present.”

  We head back into the hub of the library, and the crowd is on its feet and nervously chattering, clearly jangled from the horrific turn of events. Pepper Patrick is still speaking with a group of women up front, and among them are Lily and Naomi Turner. I’m assuming they want to score Pepper to speak at their naughty book club. It would be a major coo, and, heck, even I might attend at that point. Most likely I’ll attend by proxy because they have a propensity to host the dirty deed right there in my bakery. I do appreciate the business, however.

  “Look”—I say as I point over to Felicity and the all too familiar face consoling her—“it’s Simon Warwick. He’s the UFO guy with those happy face bags at his shop.”

  Noah ticks his head to the side. “Maybe he is our guy.” He takes off in his direction, and I note Everett is no longer by my side. Instead, I find Cormack sobbing uncontrollably in his arms, and he looks over at me and shrugs.

  I don’t need a road map to know she threw herself in his arms once she smelled a potential homicide afoot. Once she realized her date with Noah would be over for the night, she thought she’d drum up another one. Well too bad, toots. He’s mine, too.

  Just as I’m about to go over and claim my man, a very angry looking Bear—as in Otis Bear Fisher, my ex —stops me.

  “What the hell keeps happening? First, Rhonda and now this hippie that has the hots for Felicity?” Bear looks as if he’s about to tear every book in the place in half. “Do you think they’re coming after her next?”

  I cringe for a moment, because if Felicity herself is the killer, then I’m assuming she’s the safest person in the room.

  “I don’t think so,” I say, pulling him along with me. “But I’m guessing Simon is coming after her now. You’re going to lose your girlfriend to her ex if you don’t move fast.”

  He shrugs it off as he witnesses the two of them speaking with Noah. “We’re not so hot and heavy.”

  “So you figured it out?” I wrinkle my nose up at him.

  “That she was using me to make her ex jealous? I’ve been known to help a girl out a time or two. I figure it’s the least I could do after breaking a few fragile hearts.”

  “It’s nice to see you’re using your superpowers for good.”

  Speaking of superpowers, Macon comes to mind, and I moan. Stupid, silly me sent him to arrange a haunting when I should have had him casing the place all along.

  Bear shrugs sheepishly. “There is one girl I’m sort of into. She’s got a boyfriend, though. But by the way she’s been talking to me, you would think she was free as a bird.”

  “A macaw,” I mutter—mostly because I’m still kicking myself. “Who’s the unlucky bird?”

  “That’s her right there.” He nods over to our left, but the only girl I see is Rigby Emerson.

  “Rigby?” I almost gag on her name. “She’s dating my other ex. The one who made the broken heart you gave me look like child’s play.”

  “Huh.” Bear’s chest puffs out. His jaw sets tight as if he were about to administer a beating. “Where is he?”

  “Careful, he’s a suspect. I need his mouth in place. You’re a suspect too, by the way. Did you or did you not kill Rhonda Gilbert?” I look him in the eye, and Bear bats the notion away as if it were absurd.

  “With you on my tail? I’d have to be nuts to commit a murder in this town.”

  “You’re proving wise beyond your years. Consider yourself officially removed from the suspect list.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “What do I have to do to thank you?”

  “Date Rigby Emerson. Now that would be poetic justice.”

  I head over to Noah, Felicity, and Simon.

  “Lottie”—Felicity shakes her head—“what is going on? How have there been two murders back to back? I’m starting to think the library is a very dangerous place.”

  “Good news, he’s not dead. At least he wasn’t last I checked.”

  I turn to Simon to say something, and a glint of something that sparkles emanates from his chest pocket. It looks like a thin gold chain.

  “Simon? Can I see that?” I ask, pointing up at it just as Everett joins our circle.

  Felicity reaches over. “What is it? Is this that something special you said you had for me?” She pulls it out with ease, and we all give a collective gasp.

  In Felicity’s hand lies something that looks identical to the ruby red Heart of Tomorrow that Rhonda Gilbert wore proudly around her neck.

  I lean in and spot the initials A.M. engraved on the back.

  “That’s the necklace! It’s the same one I saw on Rhonda the day she died.”

  “I’ll be taking that.” Noah pulls a plastic bag from his pocket and inverts it before snatching up the necklace. “I’m sorry, Simon.” Noah lands the Heart of Tomorrow deep into his pocket and pulls out a pair of cuffs from his jacket in its place. “I’m going to have to take you in for questioning.” He hustles him to the door while Simon shouts his innocence to Felicity, and utter melee breaks out as she chases after them screaming.

  Everett steps in, and his warm cologne demands I give him the proper homage.

  “What do you think, Lemon? Did the kid do it?”

  I shake my head, unsure of myself. “If he did do it, he sure isn’t very good at covering his tracks. Or, he is expertly being set up. I’m willing to bet it’s the latter.”

  “I agree. The killer is using this kid to cover for himself.”

  “Or herself.” I bat my lashes up at him.

  “Point taken. Regardless, there must be a reason.”

  “Oh, there is always a reason. It’s just never good enough for murder.”

  “I don’t know.” Everett’s lids hood low. “I’m pretty sure if Noah knew the things I wanted to do to you, he’d find it a good enough reason for murder.”

  My cheeks burn with heat, and I do my best not to smile, considering the circumstances. I really do like Rags, and I want him to come out of this unscathed.

  I lean in and clip Everett’s tie with my fingers. “Maybe we should talk about it—you know, giving Noah the proper motive for murder.”

  “Pencil it in?” His lips flicker. “I don’t pencil in my playdates, Cupcake. They—”

  “Just happen like nuclear fission and supernovas, or was it sh
ooting stars?” I tease.

  A rumble of a laugh emits from him as that devilish gleam takes over his eyes. “You know me well.”

  “And from what I gather, I’m about to know you a whole lot better.”

  On Saturday, the Honey Hollow Covenant Church is packed to the brim as residents, young and old, come out to pay homage to one of our own. Rhonda is laid out in one of her Easter sweaters with little cutouts of bunnies and white baskets brimming with decorated eggs. It’s painful to see her wearing one last accouterment from her beloved sweater collection, especially knowing that Easter is just a week away and Rhonda won’t be here to see it. She always made sure there were plenty of spring flowers adorning the refreshment tables at every festival this town has ever held, especially the Bonnet Festival.

  Macon is dutifully perched on the edge of her casket and hasn’t taken his eyes off of her yet. I’m sure once he gets back to the other side of the rainbow bridge, it will be a joyful reunion. And all around the coffin it looks as if every flower in the world has come out to pay their respects to the lady who loved them so much. In a sad way, all of those flowers give the church a festive appeal, and I’m thinking that Rhonda would have liked it that way.

  Everett is seated on the pew next to me, and my sisters and Lainey’s fiancé Forest Donovan are on my other side. Mom is up front with Chrissy Nash, and the two of them have ensconced poor weeping Felicity.

  Seated near them is Rigby Emerson, and I can’t help but note that she hasn’t shed a single tear. Not that sobbing at funerals is a requirement, but she doesn’t even look upset. If anything, she looks annoyed, as if the entire event bungled her schedule. And I’m betting it did. Curt mentioned that they weren’t planning on staying in Honey Hollow long—right after he told me he was thrilled with the extended vacay. His words, not mine.

  Noah, however, is seated two rows over from me where Everett and I watch Cormack turn up the waterworks in hopes that Noah will rescue her from the undue level of despair she’s displaying, considering the fact she didn’t know Rhonda.

  The pastor wraps it up, and soon we’re bowing our heads in prayer before the crowd begins to make their way next door for refreshments.