Red, White, and Blueberry Muffin Murder

by Addison Moore

  “You’re an immortal,” Carlotta bleats with a twinge of fear in her voice.

  “Darn tootin’,” he growls at her as his eyes bulge with rage. “And don’t you forget it. Now you’d better return the money you stole from my room or I’ll end you and I’ll end Charlie girl, too. I might even go after Mrs. Priss here.” He tosses a finger my way without taking his eyes off of her.

  “I don’t have your money,” Carlotta seethes. “Wiley took it. I don’t want anything to do with you. If I had any money of my own, I’d pay you to leave town forever.”

  “You ain’t ever getting me out of your life, darlin’. That’s what you get for lying on the stand and sending me up the river.”

  “I had to lie because you lied to me,” Carlotta riots back at him.

  “That’s because you were afraid the truth would make you look like you didn’t have two brain cells to rub together!”

  “You told me you owned that run-down liquor store, right before you had both Charlie and me rob the place blind. I wanted you to fry. I wanted them to lock you up and throw away the key. But here you are, back from prison, and back from the dead.”

  A hearty belly laugh trembles from him. “That’s right, Sugar, and don’t you forget it. I’m indestructible. But I tell you what. You come up with a cool one hundred grand, and I’ll turn my car around and head back to Higgins Bottom. You won’t see me ever again.” He leans in so close I think he’s going to kiss her. “But you’ll miss me.” He winks.

  “And if I don’t?” Carlotta gruffs the words out like a threat.

  “I’ll turn your little world into hell on earth, woman. You’ve stole what was mine once before, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it happen again.”

  “Wait a minute,” I squawk. “That money was never yours to begin with. You stole those briefcases from the boat.” I don’t dare lay claim to the boat or the briefcases.

  “Finders keepers,” he roars my way before turning to Carlotta. “Now get me my money or else! Every last one of you will live to regret this.”

  Carlotta and I watch as he staggers off into the heat of the afternoon, and a flood of relief hits me once he’s gone.

  “He’s right.” Carlotta’s shoulders sag as she leans against the counter.

  “Right about the fact you were afraid to tell the truth in court because it would make it seem as if you didn’t have two brain cells to rub together?”

  “No, Lot. Finders keepers,” she growls. “Don’t you pay attention? I owe Rooster one hundred clean ones. And there’s only one person who I know willing to give me that kind of money.” She quickly taps into her phone.

  “Who are you texting?”

  “Mr. Sexy. Who also happens to be Mr. Billions.”

  Her phone beeps and I lean in to see a big fat no in response to her bold request for billions.

  “There’s that.” She tosses her hands in the air. “I guess I’m down to my last resort.”

  “A bank heist?”

  “A trip to Red Satin.”

  “Ohh, wait for me. I was thinking of paying a visit to that son of darkness myself.”

  I take the cash drawer, grab Lyla Nell, and the three of us are off to Red Satin.

  “What are you bringing Little Yippy for?” Carlotta grunts as I drive us out of Honey Hollow.

  “I dare Jimmy Canelli to look into my little girl’s face and threaten to kill her daddy.”

  “That’s ammo from the bottom of the barrel, Lot Lot.”

  “At this point, that’s the only ammo I’ve got.”

  Noah

  For as much as I seem to frequent Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club, and oddly that’s not the kind of gentleman I consider myself to be, I’m constantly amazed by the level of depravity that goes on here.

  The joint is dark, muggy, and smells of despair and cheap cologne. It’s early evening, and the place is already filling up with men looking to lose a couple hundred bucks to booze they probably shouldn’t have and half-naked women they can’t have. I stepped in a few minutes ago, and Lottie’s sister Meg spotted me and offered to get me a beer, so bottoms up it is as I belly up to the bar for a moment.

  The lights dim dramatically before they come up again and a series of hot pink spotlights twirl across the ceiling.

  “Gentlemen, start your engines”—a disembodied deep voice calls out from the speakers—“and put your hands together for Char—lay.”

  A raucous round of applause breaks out, and to my dismay I see Lottie’s look-alike strutting out on stage dressed like a NASCAR driver as the revving of an engine roars through this place. I know she won’t have those clothes on for long. I can’t believe of all the places in Vermont to find decent employment, she chooses to work here.

  No sooner do I bring the beer bottle to my lips than Lottie, Lyla Nell, and Carlotta step into my line of vision, all three with a look that can kill pinned right on me.

  “Noah Corbin Fox,” Lottie snips with her free hand balled against her hip.

  I practically spew the beer out of my mouth at the sight of her.

  “What the heck are you doing here?” I put down the beer in haste and pick up the baby. “And with my daughter no less.”

  “Dada!” Lyla Nell kicks and squeals as she slaps my face silly. Her feather soft hair is scooped up on the top of her head and held together in a giant pink bow.

  “We can ask you the same thing,” Lottie says, unrelenting with her fury.

  I’ll admit, it’s adorable as anything when she’s angry with me like this. It would happen once in a while back when we were together, and I’d take her back to my place and defuse her one steamy kiss at a time, to select parts of her body, of course. My mouth waters just thinking about it.

  I say it’s time we give Lyla Nell a sibling. I wonder how many beers I’d have to get into Lottie to get her to agree to it? Not that I’d resort to it, but my guess is three.

  “Come on, Lot.” Carlotta bumps her elbow to Lottie. “I know you’re no genius, but Foxy here is a member of the Fifth Limb Club. And where else is he supposed to go to see the woman he loves take her clothes off? Now that you and Sexy put up curtains in the master bedroom, not only are half the women in Honey Hollow good and ticked, but Foxy has to look elsewhere to get his Lusty Lemon kicks. Good thing Cha Cha showed up on the scene.” She leans my way. “Tip her good, Foxy. She’s family, you know.” She looks to Lottie. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she splits the take. You keep breaking men’s hearts and sending ’em her way, and we’ll have a nice little side gig going for us.”

  “Carlotta.” She shakes her head before casting those glowing hazel eyes my way. “What gives, Noah?”

  Carlotta clucks her tongue. “Boy, a guy can’t have a beer after work and unwind with a few buxom beauties without you breathing down his neck. I bet Sexy is going to get tired of the watchdog campaign you’ve initiated over his life.”

  Lottie glowers at her. “I’m not a watch dog over my husband. Everett is free to come and go wherever he wants. Besides, I don’t need to ask for a schedule of where he’s going to be. He’s predictable. He’s just finishing up at the courthouse, and I bet he’s on his way to pick up dinner for us—from the Wicked Wok, his favorite.”

  “And I was about to pick up Mangias, our favorite.” I wink at Lot as I say it.

  Carlotta grunts, “What about my favorite? Who’s gonna pick up a bucket or three of Hennifer’s Fried Chicken and plop it down on the dining room table?”

  “Carlotta, your favorite dinner is a box of crullers,” Lottie tells her. “But now that you mention it, Hennifer’s sounds amazing.”

  Meg steps up and nods to Lottie and Carlotta before turning to my left. “What can I get for you, Judge Baxter?”

  Sure enough, there he stands, a six foot three wall of trouble in a suit.

  Lottie lets out a wild yelp at the sight of him and Carlotta belts out a laugh.

  “It looks like Cha Cha is in for a banner night.” Carlotta sings. �
��Whassa matter, Lot? You forget how to work your twerk in the bedroom?”

  “Everett?” Lottie gives a couple of quick blinks in his direction, alerting every one of us that he’s in deep.

  “Not to cause any waves”—I start—“but Lottie did just mention you were predictable.”

  Everett growls my way and Lottie holds up a hand.

  “This is anything but predictable, Noah,” she snips, never taking her eyes off his.

  A tiny chuckle works in my chest just as a couple of women wearing nothing but thongs and glittering pink pasties walk between us.

  “Um, um!” Lyla Nell jumps in my arms as she does her best to reach out and grab the women by their more delicate, amply endowed, parts. Her little head turns toward the stage just as Charlie takes off that jumpsuit in one quick move, showing off a set of pink pasties of her own and not much else.

  “Mama!” Lyla Nell kicks me just shy of the cookies as she does her best to stretch in that direction.

  Lottie gasps. “No, no, no,” she scolds with a whimper. “That’s your Aunt Charlie. I’m Mama. Me.” She points desperately to herself. Lyla Nell has managed to call both Everett and me Dada, but hasn’t given Lottie the same privilege with Mama or anything that sounds remotely like it. However, she’s called Charlie Mama a few times already. Not quite sure what’s going on there.

  “Never mind that.” Lottie digs her fists in her hips as she gives Everett a scathing look. “I suppose you’re here to knock a beer back yourself.”

  He shoots me a look. “Nope. I’m here to speak to a dirty rat. And now that I’ve said hello to Noah, I’d like to speak with Jimmy as well.”

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “You’re hilarious.” Everett shoots back with ten times the venom. “What’s with Lyla Nell? This isn’t bring-your-daughter-to-the-strip-club-night, Noah. You’re going to do some serious damage if you keep this up. Damage that I’ll have to undo because apparently I’m the one-man Noah Fox cleanup committee.”

  “You’re lucky I’m holding Lyla Nell or I’d wipe the floor with you. I never asked you to clean up my messes.”

  “You’re right,” he says. “You just leave me holding the bag and walk out the door like nothing happened. It’s been your MO for years. Florenza Canelli was just another body for me to bury.”

  “Would you shut the hell up?” I grit it through my teeth. “Do you know where we are?”

  Lyla Nell tips her body toward the stage about as far as she can go.

  “Noah,” Lottie says, taking the baby back. “We can’t use salty language around the baby. She’s soaking everything up like a sponge.”

  “I’ll say,” Carlotta clucks. “Check out Little Yippy. It’s as if she’s entranced with what’s going on up there.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s not for your little eyes.” Lottie tries to spin Lyla Nell away from the fleshy carnage, but Lyla Nell shouts her head off as if she were angry as heck, and Lottie spins her back that way. Instantly, Lyla Nell is entranced once again, cooing softly to herself as she soaks up the scene.

  “Well, lookie here,” Carlotta says, inspecting her. “Looks to me as if life choices are being made. I think she’s already found a career she’s interested in.”

  Everett growls, “I think Carlotta is right. This is all your fault, Noah.”

  “I brought her here.” Lottie winces. “And believe me, I didn’t want to. I was forced.”

  “Not by me,” Carlotta says. “I never want to take Little Yippy anywhere.”

  “Never mind,” Lottie says. “I take it we’re all here to see Jimmy.”

  Meg nods. “Nice cover, boys.” She winks to Everett and me. “Your secret is safe with me.” She looks to her sister. “Sure, Lot, the first thing Noah asks for when he walks into the place is where he can find the men.”

  Everett rumbles with a laugh. “You escaped a fire with that one, Lemon.” He takes Lyla Nell and pulls her close to his chest protectively and Lyla Nell pulls his head down and begins to gnaw on his cheek.

  “See that, Lot?” Carlotta grins. “Who says she doesn’t pay attention to what goes on in that bedroom?”

  A growl comes from me. “She sleeps in the nursery from here on out.”

  “That’s right, Judge Baxter.” Meg sighs. “I’m sure when Lyla Nell is eighteen she’ll think back fondly of all the times her daddy held her right here in this very spot.”

  “That’s twisted.” Lottie shakes her head at her sister.

  “Of course, it is, Lot,” Carlotta says. “But it’ll just be one in a dozen daddy issues she’ll have drummed up by then. And we all know the road to Red Satin is paved with daddy issues.”

  Everett quickly lands Lyla Nell back in Lottie’s arms.

  “Let’s find Jimmy,” Lottie says and we don’t take ten steps before Lottie stops abruptly, and to our surprise we find Keelie and Bear seated at a table with a giant platter of nachos between them.

  “Keelie!” Lottie shouts her best friend’s name. “What are you and Bear doing here?”

  Keelie offers a lazy smile our way. “It’s Bear’s birthday and they give a free platter of nachos if you’re celebrating. Plus, I told him we could go wherever he wanted.”

  “At least he’s keeping it real,” Carlotta says.

  Bear nods to Keelie. “I told you little Bear wasn’t too young to go clubbing with us.”

  Keelie lifts a brow at Lottie. “I’ll admit, between the two of us, I thought I’d be the parent with the loose moral compass.”

  “Have you met Lot Lot?” Carlotta says it deadpan.

  Lottie makes a face. “Believe you me, this is Lyla Nell’s last night in this pigpen. We’ll talk soon. Happy birthday, Bear.”

  We all wish him the very same sentiment as we make our way down through the bowels of this place and land in the casino with all its whirling, twirling lights, the one-armed bandits going off like a fire drill, and the card tables in the back filling in quickly. There are just as many men down here as there are upstairs this evening.

  “Gimme that kid,” Carlotta says as she takes Lyla Nell from Lottie’s arms. And to be honest, this might be the very first time she’s held her.

  “Why do you want her?” Lottie looks suspicious, as she should.

  “Everyone knows a Little Yippy is good luck gold in a casino.”

  “Says who?” Everett doesn’t look impressed with Carlotta’s line of thinking.

  “Says everyone, Mister I’ve-Got-Every-Degree-in-the-World-Hanging-in-My-Office. Didn’t they teach you anything in that fancy law school of yours? A diaper dweller in a casino is akin to a leprechaun holding a pot of funny money on St. Paddy’s Day.”

  “Carlotta,” Lottie snips. “Babies are not even allowed in casinos. There is no truth to this rumor. It was probably thought up by some woman who couldn’t find a babysitter.”

  “Not true, Lot,” Carlotta bites back. “I’ve spent my fair share of time casino hopping in Vegas, and you’d be shocked to learn how many fine folks snuck in a kid just to have the luck of the draw. I always thought it was an unfair advantage—but lookie here, I’ve finally found a use for the fruit of Foxy’s loins.”

  Lyla Nell bucks wildly, her foot hitting a slot machine and a handful of nickels crashes to the metal tray below.

  “Look at that!” Carlotta shouts with glee as she quickly scoops up the loot. “She’s got the magic touch, Lot. I bet Suze’s white witch powers are coming through strong with this one. Great news, Lottie Dottie. You’ve just landed yourself a brand new babysitter. The best part? Little Yippy herself will pay me.” She looks back at Everett. “She’s not cheap like her daddy.” She shrugs my way. “I’m in need of one hundred big ones. I would have asked you for the loan, Foxy, but when it comes to money, I’m rooted in reality.”

  “Good to know.” I frown over at Lottie. “Is that what you’re here for? Carlotta, are you asking Jimmy for a loan?”

  Carlotta makes a face. “After the things I’ve done for that man, he
should be throwing the big bucks my way. I put out a long time ago, and it’s about time he pays up—with interest. No use in Rooster having all the fun.”

  Everett tips his head. “What does Rooster have to do with this?”

  Lottie takes a breath as Carlotta snatches Lyla Nell and starts tapping her little feet to every machine in the vicinity.

  “Rooster came by my booth at the lake, and he said if he didn’t get his one hundred grand back, he was going to rain down hell over our lives.” Lottie glances over her shoulder briefly. “Carlotta made a deal with him, or at least she thinks so. He said if she gave him one hundred grand, he’d leave town.”

  Everett shakes his head. “I don’t believe it. Rooster is a liar. He’ll rain hell down over us all, regardless.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not afraid of Rooster. And ironically, I’m not particularly here to see Jimmy. I’m looking for my dad. This was my first stop of the night. But since I’m in Canelli territory”—I look over at Everett—“I was going to have a word with him about you.”

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Everett gravels just as a bell goes off nearby and Carlotta whoops it up.

  We look over to find a waterfall of quarters gushing out of a slot machine and Carlotta hands Lyla Nell a cardboard bucket to hold while she does her best to scoop up the change.

  “Give her to me,” I say, taking the baby from Carlotta before Lyla Nell can stick that dirty bucket into her mouth. I’m about to say something when I spot my father seated just two tables away and by his side is Miranda Lemon, both with a set of cards in their hands.

  Lottie scoffs. “Mother,” she hisses as she heads over and we follow along.

  “Wait a minute!” Carlotta tries to snatch Lyla Nell out of my arms. “Why don’t you leave Little Yippy with me, and the three of you go have a good time? I don’t think you’ve hit that kinky little playroom downstairs in eons. Come on, Foxy. I bet you’re just itching to get Lot tied up in five-way restraints again.”