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Red, White, and Blueberry Muffin Murder

Page 5

by Addison Moore


  She narrows her eyes over mine. “I’ll keep your secret. But under one condition.”

  “Anything,” I tell her, even though I only vaguely mean it.

  “I get to tell all of Honey Hollow that we’re back together.”

  I take a deep breath. “Sure, go ahead.”

  I don’t see why not. She’s been living in her delusions for so long, I don’t see the harm in letting the town celebrate them with her.

  A high-pitched squeal comes from her as she shakes her fists victoriously.

  “You won’t be sorry, Big Boss. You know that whole thing with Rooster was just a ruse. You’re the one my heart truly belongs to.” She pecks a kiss to my cheek before I can stop her. “Could you ever forgive me?”

  “Believe me, I’m not offended that you were with Rooster,” I say, navigating her to the door and walking her right out.

  “I just can’t believe we’re back together. I can’t—”

  “We’ll talk.” I shut the door, pull on my gloves, and promptly get to work.

  I do a quick scan under the bed, in the drawers, the bathtub, then finally the closet, and bingo. There they are, practically right out in the open. Two dark briefcases calling my name.

  I scoop them both up at once, and one feels markedly lighter than the other. I toss them both into my duffle bag, opening each one just enough to peer inside. The brown bricks of cocaine are still neatly compartmentalized in the briefcase Jimmy Canelli gave me. Thank God for illegal mercies.

  I crack open the briefcase Luke Lazzari gave to Everett and see enough green to satisfy me, so I shut them both, stuff them into my duffle bag, and zip it tight. I leave the light on just the way we found it and hightail it out the door. No sooner do I hit the stairs than Cormack accosts me.

  “There you are, Big Boss.” Her hands snake their way behind my neck and I inadvertently drag her down the stairwell with me. I can’t think straight with the contraband in my hand, and I’m not talking about Cormack. The front desk is barren and I breathe a sigh of relief as I navigate Cormack straight out the front door.

  The night air is balmy and heavily perfumed with a scent I’ve come to associate with this hour. My breathing picks up as I spot my truck not too far off.

  It’s almost over.

  “Cormack?” a woman calls out. “Noah? Is that you?”

  Every muscle in my body freezes as I glance to my left and spot Naomi barreling in this direction.

  “Well, well, what have we got here?” Naomi gives us the once-over with her hands tucked into her hips. She’s got on a long black dress, and her hair is bobbling on top of her head in a loose bun.

  “Big Boss and I are back together,” Cormack announces as she tightens her grip on my waist.

  Naomi sucks in a gleeful breath. “No kidding! Does Lottie know about this?” Before either of us can answer, Naomi sucks in another quick breath. “This is something clandestine happening, isn’t it? Were you up in your room with him all this time?”

  “That’s right,” Cormack coos. “He’s the one for me, and I’m the only woman for Noah Fox.”

  Naomi chokes on a laugh. “I knew you weren’t serious about that geezer. If you ask me, Noah is a better use of the honeymoon suite.” She nods down to my side. “What’s in the bag?”

  Cormack slaps her fingers over my mouth. “We do a little role-playing every now and again. You know, costumes, an apparatus or two, lots of kinky equipment.”

  Naomi’s jaw goes slack. “Wow, I had no idea you were into things like that.” She shakes her head my way. “In that case, it makes total sense why you’d go back to Cormack. I mean, face it, Lottie Lemon is about as vanilla as one can get. I’m sure her prissy behavior translates to the bedroom.” She shrugs. “Bear grew bored of her way back when. You obviously grew bored of her. And I guess that means Mr. Sexy will soon be back in the singles scene.” She bites down on her lower lip. “Guess who will be ready and waiting?” She starts to head back, and I quickly grab her by the wrist.

  “Nobody can know that we were here, Naomi.” I nod her way while begging her silently for her assurance.

  “Of course,” she says, patting me on the arm the way you would a small child. “Believe me when I say, your secret is safe with yours truly. If Lottie does find out about this little undercover foxtrot, it won’t be from me.”

  A catcall escapes her as she heads back into the manor and I tip my head to the sky.

  It couldn’t be easy, could it?

  I say goodnight to Cormack and drive home to the only woman for me, Lottie Lemon.

  Everett

  “Noah is back,” I say to Lemon as I let the curtain drop.

  I’ve been stalking the window, keeping an eye out on Noah’s driveway for the last half hour, with my adrenaline running full throttle. I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep tonight. Maybe ever again.

  “Oh good.” Lemon jumps up next to me, holding both Pancake and Waffles as they crane their necks toward the window as if they wanted a peek themselves. “Okay, let’s get over there.” Her own breathing has picked up and I can tell she’s charged.

  I much prefer her that way in the bedroom and never outside of it. Lemon deserves to have a calm, peaceful life. And with the mob pecking around Noah and me—gunning to use us and expertly trapping us right where they want us, she may never have another calm day so long as we’re in her way.

  “Evie?” I turn around and find her lying horizontally on the wingback chair with her legs dangling off one side as she flicks her finger over her phone. “Would you mind watching Lyla Nell for a minute? We’re going to have a quick word with Noah.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” she says, her eyes still glued to the screen. “She’s sleeping, just the way I like it. And just a heads-up. My driving lessons start tomorrow at one. Don’t worry. That gives me enough time to go to church and have you take me to Wicked Wok afterwards. I’m not giving up our Sunday tradition of staring at cute boys for an hour then noshing on dim sum.”

  Lemon laughs as she lands the cats on the couch. “It’s nice to know you’re getting something from it. We’ll be back soon, but if Lyla Nell needs anything, I’ve got my phone.”

  I blow out a breath. “Can you move your driver’s ed appointment back a notch, Evie? I’ve got a surprise for the two of you at one. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour. An hour at best.”

  “Ooh, a surprise?” Evie looks up, and I suddenly have her attention. “I’ll see what I can work out with Bradford.”

  I frown just hearing his name.

  Bradford Van Horn is some college kid that’s been paired with Evie to teach her to put the pedal to the metal—or more to the point, not to put the pedal to the metal.

  Last month, I had the bright idea to suggest to Evie she should break things off with her steady boyfriend, a high school football player named Conner Saint. I’ll admit, I was afraid the kid wasn’t exactly living up to his surname. But now that the universe has thrown a college kid at her, I’m not so sure I should have campaigned so hard for her to dump the football player.

  Lemon thinks we shouldn’t tinker with Evie’s dating life. But as her dad, I can’t seem to help myself.

  Evie scoffs. “Dad, you know I hate surprises. Tell me now, what is it?”

  “I’d love to know, too.” Lemmon shrugs with a mischievous smile tickling her lips.

  “All will be known tomorrow afternoon. I’ll give you a hint. It’s a family affair. And it should be fun.”

  Evie makes a face. “Should be fun. But will it be?”

  Lemon waves her off. “It will be. Like I said, call me if you need me!”

  Lemon and I dart out the door into the warm night air. The heat from the day is still radiating off the sidewalks. And according to the weather report, we’re due for another scorcher tomorrow.

  I glance up and down the darkened street where the light from a few streetlamps offers a peachy glow. Country Cottage Road has been home ever since I moved to Honey
Hollow a couple of years ago.

  Lemon has always lived in Honey Hollow, but Noah made the move right before I did. In fact, he bought the cabin we’re headed to at the moment. It’s a Lincoln Log model with no frills, a nice yard, and the woods butt up against it at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Not long after Noah moved in, Lemon rented the place across the street from him, and I bought the home next to her rental.

  Last October, both Lemon’s rental and my home burned down in a freak fire, so I bought the property her rental was on and conjoined it with mine with the city’s permission—not an easy feat, but you throw enough time and money at something and things eventually shift in the right direction. Now we’re halfway through construction on the dream home I’ll share with Lemon. And that construction site just so happens to be ground zero for the surprise I’ve got cooking for my family tomorrow afternoon.

  Lemon gives a brisk knock over Noah’s door and it glides right open as Noah lets us in. Noah’s place is rustic, with dark muted tones, wood floors, leather sofas, and no creature comforts that a woman would provide. A few empty beer bottles line the sink, and there’s a stack of pizza boxes on his dining room table.

  His golden retriever, Toby, greets us with a lazy romp, and both Lemon and I give him a quick scratch. I like Toby more than I care for Noah, but then that’s easy to do.

  Toby has a smile on his face each time I see him. Noah wears a lovesick scowl.

  “Where are they?” I ask, quickly surveying his living room. “Is everything still intact?”

  “I just got back and tossed the duffle bag on my bed,” he says. “Let’s check it out.”

  We head into Noah’s bedroom, and sure enough, a large navy duffle bag sits in the middle of his unmade bed.

  “You’re not just going to leave it out in the open like this, are you?” I growl his way. I can’t help it. Noah’s slovenliness has seeped into my life and almost took down my career a few months back.

  “Relax, Nancy. Like I said, I just got home. I’m pretty sure the briefcases will fit in my attic. I’ll buy a safe in the morning and have it shipped out.”

  Lemon blows out a breath. “That’s going to have to be a big safe. It’ll be expensive, too.”

  “Only if he gets a good one,” I say. “I’ll pay for it. Clear a space in your garage.”

  “I’ll pay for it.” He frowns over at me. “It’ll be the best money can buy. Only top quality will do to store your contraband, princess.”

  “Noah.” A nervous laugh streams from Lemon. “Will both of you please calm down? It’s going to be okay. Wait a minute—why don’t you just return the briefcases to their wicked owners and be rid of them? Besides, just a thought of a large safe in your garage, Noah, sets me on edge. I have enough things to worry about, and I don’t need to add Lyla Nell getting stuck in your new safe to the list.” She shrugs. “I’m a new mom, and my hormones are on fire. All sorts of disturbing things run through my brain.”

  I twitch my lips her way. “I hate to say it, but I have a feeling Jimmy and Luke won’t want anything to do with these just yet. But we’ll get rid of them as soon as we can.”

  Noah nods. “I’ll clean the prints off them tonight and shove them in my attic. Don’t worry, man.” He slaps me on the back. “We’re not going to hell in a handbasket just yet.”

  Noah regales us with an odd story of running into Cormack at the manor as he unzips the duffle bag. I’ll admit, a swell of relief hits me when I see those dark briefcases sitting there like a couple of leather-bound demons. At least I have the comfort of knowing they’re not floating around out there waiting to fall into the hands of the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department by way of some ATF agent. Our prints are covering them both, and I refuse to let the mob take us down. A bullet to my chest would be easier for me to live with—despite the fact I wouldn’t be alive to appreciate it.

  Noah springs open the latches on the first briefcase and pulls the lid back, exposing us to rows of cocaine bricks wrapped in brown packaging. He opens the next one, and as soon as he pulls the lid back my heart sinks.

  “Crap.” I close my eyes a moment.

  I used to be the lucky one. The one that got all the big breaks, the green lights—Yes, I worked hard to get where I am, but doors have always opened for me. And as of late, it seems all of my luck has been turned on its ear. Coincidentally, I see a parallel with the fact Noah has stepped back into the picture.

  “Oh, Everett.” Lemon wraps her arms around my waist. “More than half the money is missing.”

  “Two-thirds,” I tell her. “All right. Get this mess cleaned up and in the attic before anyone finds out about it.”

  The sound of footsteps comes from behind and we turn to find Carlotta with her hair mussed, poking her head over Lemon’s shoulder.

  A laugh gravels from her. “What do a judge, a cop, a baker, a briefcase full of drugs, and a whole lot of money have in common?”

  “We are indeed going to hell in a handbasket,” I say as I look at the illegal loot spread out over Noah’s bed.

  Lemon does her best to shove Carlotta out of the room, but it’s too late. The damage has been done.

  “Carlotta, what are you doing here?” she asks as they nearly get into a scuffle.

  “Little Yippy was going off like a fire alarm earlier and I couldn’t sleep, so I used that spare key we’ve got lying around to Foxy’s place and holed up in his guest bedroom.” She cranes her neck to look at Noah. “So what happened after you made out with Cormack?” she asks.

  Noah looks less than thrilled with the way she’s framed her question—an honest one at that.

  “None of your business.”

  “Fine, Foxy. Have your secrets. But you’ve still got flannel sheets on the mattress in the guest room, and now I’m soaking with sweat. Order up some of those bamboo sheets, would ya? I hear they keep you nice and cool.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Noah says while glaring at her.

  Lemon and Carlotta drift to the living room while Noah and I sanitize every inch of these briefcases in an effort to remove any trace of our DNA. We look for hairs, fibers, anything that could potentially incriminate us, and all the while glaring at one another.

  We’ve pulled ourselves into blunders before, and each time we seem to outdo the last, yet we’ve always managed to bring ourselves back to safety.

  But this feels as if it’s the biggest blunder of them all.

  Something tells me there will be no coming back from this one.

  We’re going to pay. I can feel it in my bones.

  Here’s hoping we don’t pay with our lives.

  The next morning, Sunday, Lemon makes me breakfast in bed—eggs, bacon, and a stack of waffles to the ceiling—as if it were my last day on earth.

  Church goes off without a hitch, and Lemon and I take Evie and Lyla Nell to Wicked Wok for lunch, then reconvene with everyone at the construction site of the new house, right next door to where we reside now. As much as I like the convenience of it, the banging and shouting all day from Bear’s construction crew makes me regret our choices. Moving even a block or two away would have given us a little more peace and left Noah to enjoy all the bumping, thumping benefits.

  “What’s going on, Sexy?” Carlotta asks as she stands next to Mayor Harry Nash. Lemon’s mother and sisters are here—Lainey, Meg, and I guess Charlie falls into that equation, too. Wiley has joined the brigade. Noah is here, and oddly, Cormack, who followed him home from church, Evie, and, of course, Bear, his wife Keelie, and their bruiser of a baby boy.

  Our new property is spread over an acre and a half, and we’re building the house set off from the street to secure a little more privacy. The backyard will be an ample size as it butts up to the woods. I’ll fence it in so the cats can roam free, or in the event Lemon wants to add a dog to the mix or any other creature. I’ll build a barn if she wants me to.

  I glance up at the structure that will one day soon be our forever home. It’s st
ill in its skeletal phase, nothing but wood framing it and concrete footings. The plumbing has already been laid out, and that includes the pipes for front yard landscaping.

  I asked Bear to let me know when he’d put in the foundation for the walkway, and that’s the exact reason we’re standing here today. There’s a small cement mixer not too far off, and Bear has already poured a square along the path that will lead to the wraparound porch.

  “First, I want to thank you all for coming out in the heat,” I tell everyone. “As you know, just shy of four months ago, Lemon gave our family the gift of Lyla Nell. And as a token of my love for Lemon, Lyla Nell, and Evie, I wanted to commemorate our family in a special way.”

  Keelie gasps. “This is Lottie’s push present, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right,” I tell her.

  Carlotta looks to Mayor Nash. “Foxy put a tree in front of his house for Little Yippy.”

  “And it’ll have a swing hanging from it soon,” Noah chimes. “Just as soon as I get it to grow a bit more.”

  Wiley slaps his son on the shoulder. “I’ll help you fertilize the thing. We can’t have her waiting to swing. She’ll be in college before you know it.”

  Carlotta nods. “If she’s anything like her mama, she’ll be swinging long after college, too.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Lemon reprimands her. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “She’s right,” Evie tells her. “Uncle Noah’s not married.”

  “And I’m not fooling around with him,” Lemon tells her.

  Evie rolls her eyes. “Come on, Mom. It was just last night you and Dad snuck off across the street, and when you came back you said so yourself the three of you were just having a little fun.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Lemon says, clutching Lyla Nell tight.

  “That’s not what happened,” I say it sternly in the event anyone wants to question the fact.

  Evie shrugs. “Suit yourself. But it was you, Dad, who was hovering at the window for an hour straight just waiting to see when Uncle Noah pulled into the driveway. You seemed the most excited to get over there.”

 

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