Lethal Lemon Bars: MURDER IN THE MIX 9

by Moore, Addison

  “I’m fine. But you’re going to be hurt, Lottie. I’m sorry, but I can’t have you ruining everything for me.”

  “You killed Nessa.” My breathing grows erratically as I try to plot an escape. “Did you know she was carrying Ryan’s child? That she would be a mother soon?” My tone is far more aggressive than I meant for it to be.

  A quick breath escapes her as if my words had the ability to sucker punch her. “Nessa was pregnant?” She scans the ground as if looking for affirmation as Max waves from behind her back.

  God, he could push her. He could push her, and the gun could go off. Now that might not bode well for me. I shake my head over at him as Blythe lifts the gun higher just a notch.

  “But you just said she was expecting! Do you know how that makes me feel to know I killed an innocent child in all of this?”

  “Why did you kill Nessa then? Why couldn’t you just leave Ryan to his dirty affair, walk away, and be done with it?”

  “Because I was invested!” she roars. “I gave him my prime, my twenties. I was groomed for this moment. Ryan is going to run for Senate one day, then maybe a presidential bid. I was not going to have some spoiled little slut ruining it for the two of us.”

  “But don’t you see? It was just as much Ryan’s fault as it was hers. I mean, sure, that whole nest routine took place where she all but forced Ryan to have her, but—”

  “Please”—she belts out a husky laugh, her eyes glinting wildly in the moonlight—“those boys signed up for it. Everyone who had ever been near Nessa St. James knew exactly what they were getting into. She was a lot of things, but she never forced anyone to lie down with her. If anyone was a victim in all of this, it was the girls who had to stand by and watch this vagrant cheating. I hated it, and I hated her.”

  “So you poisoned her. How did you possibly—” My mind flits back to the day of the party. “Oh my God, you faked an injury. You had the peanut butter with you in that gauze wrapped around your wrist, didn’t you?”

  Blythe squelches a laugh. “You are a sharp one. But I didn’t have to fake an injury. I really did tweak my wrist while playing against Nessa ironically. And that’s where I hid the pouch. It was easy enough to do. Once I smeared the bottom of the lemon bar with peanut butter, I handed it to her. It was such a free-for-all, Nessa never even noticed who gave it to her. I made sure to take her purse just before Landon’s ridiculous document barbeque. That way Nessa couldn’t get to her EpiPen if she brought it. I didn’t think it would work so quickly, so brilliantly. She was dead within minutes. But now with the news of the baby— with you and that detective boyfriend of yours, it’s all gotten so messy.”

  “Lottie?” Noah calls out as he tracks this way, and before I can flinch, Blythe is on my back, her arms wrapped around my upper torso, our dresses making an aggressive swishing sound as they intermesh.

  “Don’t say anything. I won’t have to kill him unless you call out. Remember, Lottie, it’s going to be you making this deadlier than it needs to be.”

  “Noah!” I call out, because for one, I will never believe the promises a killer makes.

  Blythe points the barrel to my temple, and I can hardly catch my next breath.

  Max waves with both hands as if he were trying to land a 747 on the runway. “I got him, Lottie. I banged the heck out of the woods with a stick, and he caught on.” He takes a few steps forward. “I’m going to take her down now.”

  “No,” I whimper as the gun inches closer to my head. She’s unpredictable. There’s no telling who she’ll shoot or why. I can feel her heart palpitating like mad over my back.

  “It won’t hurt, Lottie. It will be quick.”

  “Wait”—I try to glance her way, but she keeps my head turned forward by way of the butt of her gun—“I have to know if you sent those threats to Cormack.”

  “Why would I care about Cormack? All I wanted was Nessa St. James out of my life, and that’s exactly what I arranged to happen.”

  “Blythe”—Noah booms from an unknown position, and the two of us look every which way—“drop your weapon. We have you surrounded.”

  Her chest bucks. “I don’t care if you have an army. I’m leaving this planet today, and I’m taking Lottie with me.”

  Max nods to someone behind me, and a female voice screams louder than a banshee on fire. I recognize that ghostly howl as coming from none other than Greer Giles herself.

  Blythe lets out a horrendous groan as she lowers the gun without meaning to. I dig my elbow into her stomach, and the gun goes off, offering a lightning white flash right before my eyes.

  “God,” I howl as I do my best to take it from her, but Blythe is strong and putting up a heck of a fight as we wrestle it out.

  Blythe lands on top of me, and just as soon as I absorb her weight, it feels as if she’s levitating right back off.

  Max growls as he hoists her into the air. “Lottie”—he shouts as he kicks the gun from Blythe’s hand—“I’m not supposed to do this. Something is happening. I think I’m leaving. I stepped out of bounds.” He turns to look at Greer. “I’ll see you on the other side.” That last word comes out faint, and just like that, he’s gone.

  “Goodbye!” I shout into thin air as Greer begins to dissolve as well. “Oh no,” I whimper as Blythe drops over me like a stone.

  “Lottie?” another deep voice shouts just as I roll Blythe over and pin her to the ground as she yelps and squirms.

  “Everett?” I say, turning to find both Everett and Ivy racing up the path behind me.

  Noah runs over, his breathing quickening as he carefully lands onto Blythe's back and has her hands cuffed in no time.

  “It’s over,” I say as Everett helps me up, and I wrap myself tightly around him. “Oh, thank you. It’s finally over.”

  “We followed you out,” he says, cradling my chin in his hand. “I saw her throw you into the trunk, and we jumped into your sister’s car. We tried to block her, but she sideswiped us. Meg is fine. She stayed back and called the sheriff for us. But I think her car needs some serious body work.”

  “I don’t care, and she won’t either.”

  He secures his hands over my cheeks. “I wasn’t going to lose you. There was no way I was going to lose sight of that car. You’re everything to me.” He pulls me in tightly, and I can feel his heart pounding over mine.

  Ivy and Noah help Blythe to her feet.

  “I guess it’s finally over.” Blythe looks to Ivy and Noah before casting a glance my way. “A part of me wanted this all to be over.”

  They cart her off toward a boulder, and I hold Everett tightly as flashing lights and the howl of sirens migrate in this direction.

  “You did it, Lemon.” Everett lands a gentle kiss to my forehead. “You took down another one.”

  I look up at this handsome beast pressed against me. “I told Noah my secret. He was in the trunk with me, and Max showed up. I did my best to explain it all in a nutshell.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t say anything, really. Just that if you can accept it, so can he. He hasn’t exactly had a moment to process it, let alone accept it.”

  “He will.” Everett looks in Noah’s direction. “And I’m glad he knows. You’re a crime busting team. He needs to know all the important details in your life. And whether or not he likes it—I’m part of the team, too. You’re a part of my life, Lemon, in the very best way.”

  “I concur. Now kiss me and make this entire day better.”

  And he does.

  Chapter 22

  After a grueling hike to Everett’s car, under the duress of sporadic moonlight and a wobbly stray flashlight, we decide to head back to the art gallery rather than opting for home.

  Noah received yet another frantic text from Cormack, this time stating that her head was on the chopping block, so he let Ivy take Blythe down to Ashford to be formally booked for Vanessa St. James’ murder.

  I still can’t believe she did it. And I certainly beli
eved Blythe when she denied sending those threats to Cormack, although a part of me wonders if we’ll ever know the truth.

  The art gallery is still brimming with bodies clad in rustling taffeta and crisp tuxedos along with glittery masks of every shape and size. Laughter abounds in well-timed spurts, and the ceaseless chatter overrides the violin music filtering in through the speakers. I can’t help but note the refreshment tables are still well stocked with my mouthwatering lemon bars. At this point, all I want is to grab a dozen of those lemon custard treats and head home to my cats, maybe snuggle up by a fire, and read a book with some tea accessible at arm’s length. My feet are killing me in these emerald satin heels, and I have a pair of cozy chenille socks my mother gifted me last Christmas calling out my name.

  “Hard right, Lemon,” Everett says, orienting me, and I crane my neck that way to find Clayton and Ryan laughing it up while knocking back drinks.

  Noah jogs up and lands between Everett and me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll tackle them in a minute.”

  I look up at him as my mouth falls open. “Do you think they were in on it?”

  “I don’t think so. Not from what Blythe said when she confessed, but you never know. I’ll have to question them per protocol.”

  Everett gives a wistful shake of the head. “They’ll lawyer up regardless. No doubt they have access to the best.”

  Noah leans in. “Here she comes.”

  Cormack scuttles over with Landon in toe, and Noah quickly ushers us all outside.

  The night air has a chill to it, making me shiver under the cool fabric of my dress. Everett must sense this because he pulls off his coat and lands it over my shoulders, and instantly his warmth radiates through my body, heating me right down to my bones.

  Noah glances over and frowns before leading us a few paces from the boisterous entry of the art center.

  “What’s going on?” He sighs heavily to Cormack as he says it.

  Both Cormack and Landon, her eerie twin in every capacity—sans the blonde hair and hot pink renaissance gowns, grovel up to Noah, begging him for protection, mewling away like starved kittens. Their masks are in hand, waving like glittery flags of surrender, and the entire display makes me want to vomit.

  “Oh, it was horrible!” Cormack’s entire body bucks and writhes, her blonde curls spilling side to side with all of the drama of a damsel in distress in one of those black and white movies my mother used to find so charming. “Whoever it is stuffed this into my purse when I wasn’t looking!” She produces a tiny crumbled piece of paper. “Look, it says right here, your head will roll tonight!”

  “I should be so lucky,” I mutter under my breath, sponsoring a stern yet equally inaudible Lemon from Everett.

  Noah carefully removes a plastic bag from his pocket and encapsulates the note as the watermark at the top of the page catches my eye.

  “Hey, that’s stationary from the B&B!” I say enthusiastically as I step in close. “And isn’t that where you’re staying?” I shake my head admonishingly at the so-called victim.

  Cormack shrieks for seemingly no reason. “You mean to tell me not only is that place haunted, but there’s a killer on the loose? I’ll have my father shut down that hellhole by midnight for harboring felons and spooks alike.”

  I can’t help but avert my eyes. “The only felon in there is you. Future felon, that is. You do realize that filing a false claim with the sheriff’s department not only eats up valuable resources, but costs the taxpayers a ton of money. You’ll be lucky if you’re not sued to the hilt by every resident in Ashford County, Honey Hollow included.” I dig a finger into her cushioned chest. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Once Noah turns in that final piece of evidence over to forensics, they’re going to crack this case wide open. They were just waiting for one more sliver of proof. And if they do name you as the prime suspect, you’re looking at a minimum of fifty years behind bars. Your accouterment choices will be whittled down to one—and you’ll be wearing orange in and out of season. The only manicure you’ll receive ever again will be at the hands of a woman named Butch, and she won’t take Daddy’s credit card, if you know what I mean. They’ll take your phone, your yoga instructor, your masseuse, your TV psychic, and your barista away—i.e., your freedom. But if you confess right now to doing all this yourself in hopes to keep Noah on tab twenty-four hours a day, you’ll be absolved of all charges.” Of course, everything I just shouted out into the dark expanse was completely fabricated out of my own imagination, but I couldn’t help it. I’ve had enough of Cormack and her falsified histrionics.

  Cormack’s entire body seizes as her hands shake and shiver. Her tiny pink clutch flies into the air, and I catch it. Without thinking, I try to open the tiny box.

  “Wait a minute,” I say, looking over at the two sisters. “This tiny hard-shelled case is practically bolted shut.” I struggle to open it once again, and Everett carefully takes it from me and pops the top on it.

  “That wasn’t easy.” Everett looks over to Cormack. “Did you set this down at any point in the night?”

  “Are you kidding?” She snatches it back and snaps it closed once again, and it sounds like a gunshot. “That’s a ten thousand dollar Famaguci. You don’t leave this lying around willy-nilly. I let Landon hold it while I went to the ladies’ room.”

  All eyes shift to her wide-eyed little sister.

  Landon’s mouth opens and closes. “Oh my God, I did it.” She clutches onto Cormack as tears spout from her eyes, airborne just the way they do in cartoons. “Please don’t let them take my freedom! If I don’t do yoga on the veranda at sunrise, my skin begins to dehydrate, and I’ll be reptilian by fall! Oh, please don’t let them take me!” Her voice wails into the night as Cormack plucks her off.

  “Landon Stout Featherby!”

  Dear Lord, the name of all names. Those rich folk really know how to pin a crazy moniker on a kid at birth.

  Noah rocks back on his heels. “Landon, you did this? Why?”

  Landon’s watery green eyes blink up at him. Her mouth widens in horror. “For you—for her. Don’t you see? Cormack wants you. Cormack always gets the things she wants. And for whatever reason, you’re not complying. I was just trying to give you a push in the right direction. After I saw you blowing her off the day Nessa was killed, I thought maybe I could piggyback off her death and you’d think the killer was after my sister as well. Don’t you care about her? Don’t you want to keep her safe? How many threats was it going to take for you to see what a wonderful person my sister really is?”

  “I’m speechless,” I say while choking on my next words. “The one thing you can’t buy is love, so you thought you’d do the very next best thing—scare someone into loving your sister.”

  Noah holds a hand up. “Landon, I do care about your sister. I care about her deeply.” And there it is, another knife in my chest gifted by none other than Noah Corbin Fox. “But my heart belongs to someone else.”

  Cormack scoffs. “Please. Britney is all about control. And if you want to be commandeered for the rest of your life, be my guest.”

  “I don’t,” he says sharply. “And I wasn’t talking about Brit. I was talking about Lottie.” His eyes soften as he looks my way a moment. “Landon?” He’s right back to being annoyed. “Did you send Lottie a threat, too?”

  “No way, no how.” She lifts both hands in the air in protest, and suddenly Cormack looks as if she’s eyeing the parking lot as an escape route.

  “I knew it! You’re both a couple of spoiled little brats.” I lean in dangerously close, and Cormack nearly falls over trying to get away from me. “You sent that stupid note, didn’t you?”

  “You left me no choice!” She nearly bites my nose off as she snipes the words my way. “You kept accusing me of writing them myself,” she huffs over at Noah. “And you didn’t exactly step up the way we had hoped.”

  “We?” Everett charges her with the malfeasance with simply one lo
ok.

  Cormack lets out a bloodcurdling aarggh. “Fine. I caught on the other day. But I was not entirely pleased with this.” She growls over at her sister before looking pleadingly up at Noah. “Please don’t take us in. I swear, I was going to end this charade tonight—after this one last little threat.” She gives a little wink as if maybe she wouldn’t have.

  Everett growls, “You had no right to disturb someone else’s state of mind. You were both way out of line. And if you can’t see what you’ve done is very, very wrong—maybe you are a couple of spoiled brats.”

  The two of them suck in a lungful of air, horrified that the honorable judge among us has come to such an accurate conclusion.

  Noah smacks his lips with disdain. “Everett, why don’t you get Lottie home? I’m taking the girls down to Ashford.”

  He herds the two of them off toward the parking lot, much to their hysterical protest.

  “Throw the book at them,” I shout as Everett chuckles.

  “You and I both know he’s not throwing the book at them. What do you suggest their punishment be? I’ll be sure to implement it.”

  “Community service? The B&B could use a little sprucing up. My mother’s flowerbeds are in need of freshening. I think maybe getting some dirt under their fingernails might be good for them.”

  Everett’s chest expands the size of a football field. “Consider it done.”

  I wrap an arm around him and pull him in as we watch Noah stuff them into his truck.

  A cool breeze licks by as I tip my head up at Everett. “I hear manure is the best fertilizer. Make sure they’re knee-deep in it just as literally as they have been figuratively.”

  Everett twitches his brows as we head for the parking lot ourselves.

  “You know, I never did make it to the courthouse for our date in your chambers.” I reach up and give his tie a playful tug.

  “Make it soon.” He pulls me close with a rumble in his chest. “And it can’t be soon enough.”

  “I think I’ll surprise you. I sort of like catching you off guard.”