Red, White, and Blueberry Muffin Murder

by Addison Moore

  “Bingo,” Leo says. “We have a motive. Quincy could have dealt those fatal blows to Clark to get him out of the picture.”

  Greer nods. “He might have thought it was a surefire way to get Sammy to commit to him.”

  “I bet she put him up to it,” Leo yowls. “Clark was a kind man, and he loved Sammy despite all of her flaws. I knew she was trouble. A woman who doesn’t care for cats should be watched carefully. I tried to tell him not to trust her. And now look where he’s landed?”

  Everett and I exchange a glance. It’s clear Leo is convinced Sammy is responsible for pumping Clark’s chest full of bullets—at least indirectly.

  Greer inches my way. “Oh, he’s such a nice guy, Lottie. Ask him anything. He’ll spill his guts and clean up the mess afterwards. I bet you can ask him outright if he did it, and if he did, I’d bet good money he’d confess.”

  Everett nods my way. I can tell he’s come to the same conclusion.

  “Quincy”—I lean his way—“you didn’t do that to Clark, did you?”

  “No.” His expression sobers up quickly. “Nor would I have ever thought about it. Sammy joked about it all the time. ‘I should kill him,’ she’d say. If I had a dime for every time she said if Clark was dead she wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

  Everett turns his ear this way. “What did she have to worry about?”

  Quincy shrugs. “I assumed she meant the house. I encouraged her to see an attorney. I think she was afraid if she moved out he’d sell it from under her. His name was on the title. And those businesses he had were all something he came into the marriage with. But Sammy could have sued for half. They were together for ten years—technically, at least. It was almost as if she was afraid of him.” He winces. “Maybe not quite that. I could never put my finger on it. But it always felt as if he had something over her.”

  “Do you think Sammy could have done something like this?” I ask without hesitating.

  He tips his head back and his eyes remain closed a moment too long.

  “That’s our answer,” Leo says. “Didn’t I tell you the woman was evil?”

  “I don’t know.” Quincy shakes his head. “Yes, things were tense between them, but they hardly ever spoke. She went out of her way not to cross paths with him. I mean, I had more of a relationship with the guy than she did. Clark and I spoke about the weather, sports, fishing. Once we even went on a hike together. The guy was pretty great. But Sammy, well, she can get too wrapped up in herself sometimes. And I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but she mentioned several times that she found Clark boring. To be truthful, I think she found me the same way toward the end.”

  “Sorry to hear it,” I say.

  Greer motions for me to hurry. “Don’t just stand there. See what he thinks of your other suspects. If anything, Quincy is a straight shooter.”

  I nod his way. “Can I ask what you know about Bridger Douglas? I guess he’s the manager of Clark’s stores.”

  Everett’s hand tenses a moment, and I can tell he’s not comfortable digging around his old friend. But I needed a transition to Betsy, and the store manager is the best way to get to her.

  “Aw yes, Bridger.” His brows flex. “He’s nice guy. Keeps to himself. Sammy said she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. She said he and Clark were as close as brothers.”

  “They seem like good friends,” Everett says and I can tell he’s ready to segue away from his old friend.

  “Yeah,” Quincy’s gaze drifts into the crowd and stops cold once he gets to Betsy. “I guess it was Bridger who discovered one of Clark’s employees was washing dirty money through his store.”

  “What?” I practically shout the word over Noah’s lyrical proclamation of love to Cormack. “Are you talking about Betsy?”

  “That’s the one.” He raises his hands. “But if word gets out, I’ll deny it. Bridger told me that she was in bed with a dirty judge. The guy paid her a nice sum to wash some serious cash for him.”

  I look back at Everett and his eyes expand my way.

  That conversation Everett and I had with Betsy that day at the lake comes back to me. He asked how Judge Gorman was doing, and she said she hadn’t spoken to him since he moved to Europe.

  I bet he was mixed up in some dirty dealings with the mob—just like Everett! And it sounds as if he found someone to wash the money for him. I hope he’s sipping something frozen on the French Riviera and not tied to a millstone at the bottom of the Atlantic.

  Everett blows out a hard breath. “I take it Betsy didn’t quit on her own then.”

  “Nope.” Quincy shakes his head. “I guess Clark caught her changing out the cash, then let her go. Clark was a good guy. But on occasion, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. A part of me wonders if that’s why he’s dead today. Can’t imagine why anyone would want to kill him. But making him keep his mouth shut about illegal activity is about as good a reason as any.”

  The song comes to a conclusion, and the room breaks out into wild cheers. I look to the stage in time to see Cormack hopping on Noah’s back as she nearly topples him to the ground. He manages to land her safely to the floor, and the two of them exit the stage.

  “That’s my cue,” Quincy says with a wave. “Nice meeting you two.”

  He takes off and Leo zips before me. “Betsy is a crook.”

  Greer shrugs. “It sounds like Clark was as nice as Quincy. Sammy has good taste in men. I’d better catch up with the girls. You wouldn’t believe the juicy gossip they’re capable of. They’ve really got their finger on the pulse of Honey Hollow.” She zips off and takes Leo with her.

  Everett and I head back to the table just as Noah steps up.

  Noah’s hair is mussed, his expression is dark, and he looks as if he’s up for a bar brawl—with Everett in particular.

  “You did great!” I say, jumping over him with a giant hug. I go to land a kiss to his cheek. As I lean in, he turns his face just enough, and I smack him right over the lips instead. “Hey!” I laugh as I pull back. “Okay, fine. You deserved it. Thank you for taking one for the team.”

  “Anything for you, Lottie.” He shoots Everett a dirty look. “I’ll get even with you later.”

  Carlotta snatches me by the hand. “Excuse us, boys, but Cha Cha and I are up next and I want my Lot Lot to join us. Come on, Lottie. Don’t let me down. We’re singing my anthem song.”

  “No way,” I say as she pushes me in Charlie’s direction, and the two of them hook their arms though mine and land me right back on stage. And judging by the stranglehold each of them has on me, there’s no hope of ever busting loose. The music cues up, and soon the three of us are three lines deep, belting out the lyrics to “Mamma Mia” with all our might.

  In less than ten seconds, the entire house is on their feet and dancing, and soon Cormack, Naomi, and Greer join us on stage, and surprise of all surprises, Suze has appeared and is singing right along with us.

  We laugh our way through it, both singing and shouting as we try to stay above the noise of the crowd, and I feel alive in a whole new way, standing up here with the music coursing through my veins. It’s a good feeling. Not one I’m looking to replicate anytime soon, but I can see why people love this, and how they can become addicted to it.

  The song comes to an end and Carlotta scoops me off my feet.

  “Foxy! Sexy! Catch a Lemon if you can!” She tosses me right off the stage, and I bounce softly in a safety net comprised of Noah’s and Everett’s strong arms.

  “Nice work, Lemon.” Everett lands a kiss to my lips as they help me to the floor.

  Charlie and Carlotta crop up beside me, and Charlie slings an arm over my shoulders.

  “You know, Mama and I have sung that same song at karaoke more times than I can count, but not until tonight have I had that much fun.”

  “Aw, thank you,” I say. “I had fun singing it, too.”

  “I was talking about watching you get thrown off stage,” Charlie is quick to
inform me.

  “Figures.”

  Ivy speeds this way, breathless, as she steps in close to Noah.

  “Rooster is awake, and he’s left Honey Hollow General Hospital against medical advice.”

  Both Charlie and Carlotta let out an ear-piercing scream.

  And a part of me wants to scream along with them.

  We quickly gather our things and start to make our way out of the club, when out of the shadows those two men in dark suits that were glaring at Everett earlier step in front of us and block our path.

  “Judge Baxter?” The taller of the two hands a small paper bag to Everett and they take off into the crowd.

  Everett waits until we step outside to open the bag, and we look down to see a dead rat staring back at us.

  I jump back and scream at the top of my lungs, and Noah does his best to calm me down. But Everett remains cool as he tosses the bag into the trash can near the door.

  “They’re not going to hurt him, Lot,” Noah breathes the words into my ear.

  I nod in agreement.

  They’re not. I’ll make sure of that myself.

  Lottie

  Last night, I drove Everett’s SUV back home while he and Noah went hunting for Rooster.

  Ivy went out looking for him, too, but to no avail. At breakfast, Noah suggested that Rooster might have skipped town. But Carlotta assured him he was too greedy, evil, and ruthless to do such a nice thing. And I have a feeling she might be right.

  It’s almost two in the afternoon, and I’m sweltering in my booth down at Honey Lake. Both Lily and Suze threatened to quit if I made them melt in the elements, so I had no choice but to come out myself.

  My mother is here pushing Lyla Nell around the lake in a stroller, and neither my mother nor Lyla Nell is deterred by the weather. In fact, the warmer the weather gets, the happier Lyla Nell seems to be. I hope that’s not a sign she’s going to hate winter. I hate to break it to her, but for most of the year, it’s colder in Vermont than it ever is warm.

  The lake is teeming with bodies today. Evie and her BFF are not all that far away, soaking in the rays. It seems every soul in town has tossed on a bathing suit, evacuated the premises, and landed toes to the sky as they take a leisurely nap on the beach. I wish I were doing the same.

  The Hot Dog House is grilling up a storm, and despite the fact I never thought I’d look at another sausage again, my mouth is watering to get my hands on one.

  Across the way, that giant community garage sale is still attracting both townies and tourists like bees to honey.

  It’s a busy day over here at the lake—everywhere but at my booth.

  “I take it no one wants melted cookies and mushy cake,” I say to Carlotta as she sticks her head into the refrigerated bakery display Mayor Nash has provided the booth with.

  Last month, he had every business on Main Street down here, and this equipment is left over from that. Although it wasn’t nearly as lethally hot back then.

  Leo, the cool celestial cat, is here, too, and I’ve been feeding him a steady diet of wilted lemon meringue pie, and he’s not only lapping it up at lightning speeds, he’s purring like a jet engine while doing so.

  “Nope, Lot. No one wants any of your melted goo,” Carlotta says with her face as red as a beet and sweat trickling down the sides of her temples. Once Lily and Suze abandoned ship, Carlotta said she’d come down to the lake to keep me company—and eat her fill of the aforementioned goo. “People like their hot chocolate around here, Lot. Just not in July in the form of a melted cupcake. I say we toss in the towel.”

  “I’m with her.” Leo lifts his head away from the pie just long enough to say it.

  “I can’t do it,” I say. “I still have a decent amount of inventory left, and mostly they’re all good. But don’t think for a minute I’m coming back tomorrow.”

  “I’m coming back tomorrow,” she says as she opens the cash drawer. “And I’m going sit in an inner tube floating around in that lake with a fishing line tied to my big toe.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t catch Rooster.”

  Carlotta speeds over and smacks me on the arm. “Why’d you have to go and say his name? Now he’s destined to show up. Have you got Ethel with you?”

  “No, I never bring Ethel to work.”

  “Who’s Ethel?” Leo asks, rearing his head again.

  “My gun,” I whisper.

  “I like you a little better already.” He winks before getting back to the lemony task at hand.

  Carlotta growls, “You’ll change your tune about Ethel once Rooster starts shaking you down for all the green you stole from him.”

  “You mean the green he stole from Everett. And Wiley stole from him.” It’s a rather convoluted trail of thievery that my mind has no desire to wrap itself around at the moment.

  A group of teenagers steps up to the booth and on their heels is Bridger Douglas.

  “You take the teen scene,” I whisper to Carlotta. “Everett’s friend knew the deceased. I’ll see if I can get anything new out of him.”

  I step to the right and flag Bridger over, and as I do, a spray of silver stars appears as Leo lands softly over the counter.

  “I’m sorry, Lottie,” the tiny specter mewls. “But I can no longer partake in the melted madness you have going on here. Let’s get to the bottom of things quickly with this man. I’m heading back to the bakery. There’s a raspberry cheesecake that’s calling me.”

  I knew it was bad, but it’s even worse than I thought when the dead among us are willing to eschew the delectable delights I have on hand.

  “Bridger,” I say his name brightly. “What can I do for you on this fine—rather hellishly hot day.”

  He rocks back on his feet as a warm laugh bounces from him. His salt and pepper curls have a bit more life to them thanks to the humidity, but other than that, he looks comfortable in his T-shirt and jeans.

  “Everett Baxter is one lucky guy, Lottie. I never pegged him for the marrying kind, but he’s struck gold with you. Not only are you easy-going, but you can bake a mean blueberry muffin. I’d like to treat some of the volunteers helping out with the garage sale. Would you mind if I bought out your inventory?”

  “Are you kidding? I’d throw you a tickertape parade for doing it,” I say, getting right to work boxing up everything in front of me. Bridger is my ticket to air-conditioning.

  “So how’s the case going?” He offers a warm smile. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but does Detective Fox have any leads?”

  I shake my head. “No real leads. I mean, Sammy is certainly someone of interest.” I glance over his shoulder a moment as I lean his way. “I guess Noah learned that one of your employees was fired for laundering money through the stores.”

  He inches back. “Who told him that?”

  “It was Quincy.” I twist my lips because I’m not sure I should have gone there. But what the heck. “He said you mentioned that Betsy was laundering money for a crooked judge.”

  Any trace of a smile is replaced with disappointment.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have relayed any of that.”

  “No, it’s okay. It was right of Quincy to tell Noah everything he knows. That thing with Betsy is something I probably should have brought up myself.”

  “Well, I’m sure Noah will get around to talking to you again. He’s been working on this big ATM robbery case that’s kept him busy.”

  “ATM robberies?”

  “Yes, they’ve been rampant. But the banks have been cooperating with the sheriff’s department, and Noah is actually starting to make headway with it.”

  “That’s great,” he says. “How does that work?”

  “The banks cooperating? I guess the bills are marked, stuff like that.”

  I land a large pink box before him and give him the total.

  He pulls out his wallet and winces. “I’m running on empty. How about a credit card?”

  “That works.”

&
nbsp; He hands me a card and I go to run it through the machine, but the machine acts as if I didn’t slip anything into it.

  “Oh no,” I say, tapping the side of it. “Don’t malfunction on me now.” I pull out the card and glance front and back, and it’s empty on both sides sans a black strip toward the bottom.

  “Ah, my fault.” He takes the card from me and gives me another. “That’s the keycard I forgot to give back during my last cruise.”

  “Not a problem. I hope you had fun.”

  “As always, I had a blast.”

  The card goes through, and I give it back and slide the box his way.

  “Tell Everett I said hello.” He gives a cheery wink as he takes off.

  Leo mewls my way, “And I’ll tell the bakery you said hello. I’m off to eat my way out of a cheesecake.” He blinks out of sight, and I wish I could do the same.

  Eating my way out of a cheesecake sounds like bliss right about now.

  Carlotta runs down from the south side of the lake with a hot dog in each hand, and I hadn’t even noticed she left.

  “Oh thank goodness.” I flick my fingers her way. “I’m starved.”

  “Who said I got one for you?”

  “You’ll hand it over if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Fine, but you owe me four ninety-nine.”

  “Geez, four ninety-nine for one plain hot dog? I’m in the wrong business.”

  “That includes my markup. But I don’t have time to haggle with you. Great news, Lot! Since the hot dog king bit the big one, the owners of the Hot Dog House have decided they’re going to host another competition this Saturday evening right before the big fireworks show.”

  A hard groan comes from me. “As much as I love their hot dogs, I can’t do that to my body again.”

  “Well, I’m in, and I’m in it to win it. You’re looking at the new Hot Dog Queen of Honey Hollow.”

  A dark chuckle emits from my right. “If you’re the queen, can I be your king?”

  Carlotta’s body goes rigid and both hot dogs slip from her hands as Rooster steps up between us.

  He looks a little ruddy in the cheeks, his dirty blond hair looks greasy as can be, his mustache has grown out and is crawling down his face like an upside-down U, and his brown suit is dusty as if he just rolled around on the ground to achieve that look, but otherwise, Rooster is the picture of health.