Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 8

by Addison Moore

  “Lottie.” His dimples press in deep as he examines me with wild enthusiasm. “This is amazing. I mean, I knew it. I’ve known it deep down inside. But hearing Nell say it, I feel like I’m on top of the world.”

  Nell warbles out a horrid sound as if she were dying all over again.

  “Oh dear, Lottie, tell him the rest of it, quick, before it gets out of hand.”

  Noah looks my way. “Before what gets out of hand?”

  I wince as I shrink a little. “There might be another soul mate in the mix.”

  “Another one?” His eyes are right back to widening and then, just like that, he closes them. “Don’t tell me. Everett.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you,” I say. “But you’re a darn good guesser.”

  Nell chortles. “And this is where I’ll leave you lovebirds alone. Perhaps now is a good time for that heart-to-heart.” She up and disappears.

  I bite down on my lip as I look cautiously to Noah.

  “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me and lands a solid kiss to my lips. “I love you, Lottie Lemon. And I know you love me, too. I can feel it.”

  “You have good instincts, Detective Fox.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m blind to the fact you have very real feelings for you-know-who.” His expression sours. “Don’t worry, Lot. I meant what I said. I’m fine with you exploring your relationship with Everett, just the way he was fine with you seeing where things went with us. It’s entirely up to you where things lead.” He blows out a breath as if it took everything in him to say those words. “Let the record show, I can be just as noble. Foolish, but noble.”

  “Trust me, Noah. You’re nobody’s fool.”

  He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses the back. “I will love you forever, Lottie. And I didn’t need anyone coming back from the other side to confirm it because I know that I know that I know this is true. And I will wait for you, just the way Everett is waiting for you. I’m not going anywhere, Lot. Not tonight, tomorrow, or ten years from now. It’s not possible. There is nobody else but you.”

  He leans over and lands another sweet kiss to my lips, a slow burn that has the potential to start a fire on all its own.

  Toby barks and we part ways with a small laugh trembling between us.

  “Are you okay?” He gently sweeps the hair from my face.

  I nod. “Better than okay. I’m with you.” I run my fingers through his hair, and for one tense moment I can feel the pendulum wanting to swing into the skin-on-skin arena. Instead, I reach over and pick up his laptop off the coffee table. “Let’s deep dive into Norman Pemberley’s life. Something is bound to come up.”

  “We can try, but I don’t think there’s anything new under the sun.”

  “Did you know Norman owned a shooting range?”

  He nods. “He owns several in the state. One out in Fallbrook. The man was into guns just like he was into everything else.”

  Noah inputs Norman’s name into the search engine, and we watch as the screen populates with options.

  “Boy,” I marvel at the long list of property listings that have his name linked to them. “He really was a land baron. Bruiser said he heard Jenson and Debbie talking about a land deal. Maybe we can check out a few of his more recent transactions? I mean, if they’re still talking about it, the deal, it might have been relatively new.”

  “Good thinking. I’ve got a backdoor pass to a list of property sales in the country. It’s a database the FBI uses that sucks the information of all sales and compiles them in one area. It’s bare bones, but it could give us a hint and maybe send us in the right direction.”

  Noah logs on to a site that has a giant red banner across the top that reads Recent Sales for FBI and Affiliate Use Only.

  “Wow, Noah. You really have access to the good stuff.”

  His cheek flickers as the screen populates once again. “And yet it’s never given me the edge over you.” He gives my cheek a quick peck. “My ego doesn’t mind. But my instincts to keep you safe don’t like it.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is give you anxiety over my safety.” Something catches my eye as all of Norman Pemberley’s real estate transactions crop up. “Look at that. He does all of his dealings under the Pemberley Group.”

  Noah nods. “That’s usually how the big boys play.”

  I lean in to better inspect the screen. “Here’s land out in Fallbrook. Two sales with the same dates. Sold by Hilden Commercial Holdings.” I scroll down the list. “Prior to that, there wasn’t a purchase for a year and a half before.”

  “Those sales must be what Jenson and Debbie were talking about.”

  “Must be.” I wrap my arms around Noah and look up at this sweet man who it seems I’ve gone through so much with. “Will you be at the Pemberley mansion for the celebration of life party?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Good. Because I think I have a few more questions for Jenson and Debbie. I think if I prod just a little bit more, I might have a piece to the puzzle that actually fits.”

  “We.” His brows arch a moment. “If we prod a little more. Let me do this with you, Lot. I feel safer knowing you’re not talking to a couple of suspects on your own. And don’t forget Ethel.”

  The steely Glock Noah and Everett purchased for me blinks through my mind. I used to keep her in my underwear drawer, but now that Evie is at my house as much as she is at Everett’s, I keep Ethel in Noah’s gun safe.

  “I won’t.” I wrinkle my nose because I have an odd tendency to forget Ethel.

  Jenson and Debbie might just know enough to give me the edge in this investigation, and I, for one, cannot wait for that celebration of life to begin. I’m hoping it’ll lead to a celebration of justice.

  Chapter 18

  I forgot Ethel.

  It’s just two days away from Keelie and Bear’s wedding, and I’m standing in the middle of the Pemberley mansion with bodies swirling every which way. It seems everyone on the planet has arrived, sans Keelie, of course. She said there was no way she was ever setting foot back in this place again. I can’t blame her. Once you have a body fall over you, and it lands you a top spot on the suspect list, it’s hard to revisit the scene of the crime.

  Besides, she still has so much to do, like shopping for that ever-elusive wedding dress. She’s with Naomi and her mother, doing just that. Nell is with them, too, but nobody knows that but me. I told Keelie I’d wrap things up early here and meet up with them to help with the hunt.

  The Pemberley mansion is brimming with flowers, a cheery springtime mix of lavenders and pinks. There’s an oversized black and white picture of Norman at the entry to the mansion, but inside there’s nothing to indicate this is a celebration of life. It looks more like the socialite party of the season with all of the polished women and dapper men. We could very well be at a wedding than a funeral.

  Lily sighs as we set the last of the dessert platters onto the refreshment table.

  “You went all out, Lottie. Raspberry pinwheels, coconut clusters, iced sugar cookies in the shape of flowers, brownies and blondies, maple pecan bars, lemon bars, blueberry shortbread, chocolate crinkles, apple squares, cream cheese squares, cranberry orange cookies, peanut butter cookies, and your famous soft and chewy chocolate chip cookies. If I were Mr. Pemberley, I’d come back from the dead just to have at the delicious display.”

  A burst of orange stars permeates the vicinity, and Bruiser shows up looking as tiny and adorable as ever.

  “She doesn’t have a bad idea, you know. Norman would have loved your sweet treats. But since he’s not here to enjoy them, I’ll go ahead and do it in his naaame,” he bleats happily as he lands on the dessert table with a thump and begins grazing away at the sugar cookies.

  Lily irons out the front of her gown. She’s donned a powder blue dress that looks more cocktail party than it does funeral, but so many of the women here are dressed in the very same festive
way. I seem to be bringing down the mood a notch with my traditional little black dress, but then, I’m just catering the event.

  “Seven’s here.” She gives a little wink at the mention of her boyfriend. “We’re going to do a little role playing. I’m the grieving relative, and he’s the big strong bouncer who’s about to show me a good time. I’ll catch you later, Lot.” She takes off into the crowd.

  Good thing I have a skeleton crew running the bakery this afternoon. It sounds as if Lily is taking the rest of the day off. And I can’t blame her. She works almost as many hours as I do, if not more, down at the bakery.

  “Lottie,” Noah calls my name from behind and I spin to find those evergreen eyes looking right at me. Noah is dressed in a dark suit, looking far more formal than his usual attire and it’s a heart-stopping look on him. A few of the women in the vicinity raise a brow his way and, I’ll be the first to admit, he’s worthy of more than a glance.

  He winces. “I just got a call from a neighbor. It looks as if Toby is wandering out in the front yard. I’d better go wrangle him back into the house.”

  “Oh no! How do you think he managed that?”

  “I don’t know. I put him in the backyard when I left. He must have gotten out somehow. I’ll go check it out.” He leans in. “Wait on me, and we’ll talk to Jenson and Debbie together.”

  “You bet.”

  He takes off, and I spot my mother near the back of the palatial room.

  She’s standing near the open bar where it looks as if Noah himself is doling out the cocktails and I don’t hesitate heading on over.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say as I wrap my arms around my beautiful mother. Her creamy blonde hair is swept up into a French twist, and she’s donned an electric blue gown that makes her eyes siren out twice as bright. I pull back and can’t help but frown over at Wiley as he shamelessly flirts with the socialites before him as he shakes and stirs their fruity concoctions.

  Mom nudges me. “Isn’t this great, Lottie? Business is really starting to pick up for him. Naomi is letting him work Keelie’s wedding this Saturday, too. Who knew being a bartender could be such an upstanding position? You should see the tips he walks away with at the end of the night. It’s as if he’s robbing these women blind.” She chortles into her cryptic words.

  “Mother, you and I both know that’s his specialty. He’s a rip-off artist. Why do you think he had to go into hiding and fake his own death? He stole half of Everett’s mother’s fortune while they were married. He steals from innocent women for a living.”

  “Lottie,” she hisses while presumably shuttling me out of earshot from the brazen thief. “You’re just speculating. We don’t really know what happened between him and Eliza.”

  “I do. Everett told me so himself.”

  She waves it off. “Everett is Eliza’s son. She’s not going to tell him that she gave Wiley access to her bank accounts. Technically, that money was half his. I’m not saying what he did was right, but I am saying that no matter how flat it is, every pancake has two sides.”

  “Great time to throw a baking euphemism at me. But guess what? I have something you can’t argue with. I had Everett look over that contract you signed with Wiley Rose Publishing, and it reeks of bad business. Wiley is fleecing you, and he’s using your upcoming novel to do it.”

  Her eyes round out as the frustration exudes from her.

  “Lottie, I am a debut novelist. I can’t just sell my book on the street corner. I need the push of a big publishing house behind me, and Wiley Rose Publishing has clout.”

  “Mother, he invented this publishing company for the simple reason of stealing your earnings.”

  “He invented this publishing company because he’s crazy about me.” She tugs her dress down a notch as she winks his way. “Wiley says he’s taking me all the way to the top of the best-sellers list. And believe me, Lottie, that man was in charge of an entire advertising company for years. He knows his stuff. Which reminds me, he said he’s cooking up something spectacular for my launch party next month. I’ll give you the details as I get them.” She gives my cheeks a squeeze. “Try not to look so glum. You’d think you were at a funeral.” She blows a kiss my way before scuttling off in the direction of the womanizing con.

  I’d think I was at a funeral?

  I scoff at the thought.

  That’s the problem with my mother in a nutshell. She can’t see the funeral for all the bodies in the room. And she can’t see a con artist when he’s in front of her either.

  A tall, dark, and spectacularly handsome man walks into the room, and every woman in this cavernous mansion gasps in unison.

  I must admit, Everett Baxter has just taken my breath away, too. A dangerous smile twitches on his lips as he spots me, and before I know it, both he and Evie are pulling me into a warm embrace.

  Evie is wearing a long lacy number with cutouts around her ribs and a peek-a-boo slit that runs right up her leg. It’s a spectacular dress that is both demure and naughty. I’m betting she showed Everett the demure half before she made the purchase.

  “Evie, you look like a princess,” I say, giving one of her long dark waves a quick pat.

  “Thanks. Funerals aren’t really my thing, but Dash is here somewhere and so are Conner and Kyle.” Everett’s cheek flinches at the mention of Evie’s two boy toys. “In fact, I see them now. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear of trouble.”

  She starts to take off, and I pull her back by the elbow. “Steer clear of Carlotta, too.”

  “Will do!” She takes off in a fit of giggles as she runs for her friends.

  Everett settles those blue peepers on me. He’s wearing a dark suit, black tie, and shiny black shoes. And even though this is standard dress for the good judge, my God, it never gets old.

  He picks up my hand and rubs a small circle over my palm reflexively.

  “You look amazing, Lemon.”

  “Thank you. And you look downright lethal. Half the women in this room are dying a slow death because you’re not speaking to them. And the other half are plotting to snatch you out of my presence.”

  His chest expands a moment as he gives a quick glance around. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  My heart drops. “You found a woman you want to talk to?”

  Of course, he did. How foolish of me to think he was going to hang out on the sidelines forever. If I can have two soul mates, so can Everett.

  Suddenly, I’m not such a big fan of fate or destiny. It’s a rotten system that doesn’t play fair, and it should probably stay far away from people’s hearts because it clearly doesn’t know what it’s doing.

  He bears into me as if he were about to deliver the worst news possible.

  “There is another woman I need to speak with. And if Cormack is right, she’s here on the premises.”

  “I take it the woman in question isn’t Cormack, then. And thanks for the heads-up. I always like to know when there’s a Featherby in the midst.” I frown. “So who is she? Who’s the other woman, Everett?” Okay, so that might have sounded insecure and petty, but I don’t care.

  Everett sighs. “Cressida Bentley. Evie knows she’s here in the building, and she assured me she’d stay away from her.”

  “Cressida?” Just knowing Evie’s wicked witch of a bio mother is here gives me the shivers.

  “That’s right. Now that her father arranged for all charges to be dropped, she’s right back into the socialite scene. Today’s big celebration of life is nothing more than a gathering of high society.”

  “If I see her, I’ll go the other way. I won’t lie, I’m not exactly thrilled with the legal system right now.”

  Everett caresses his finger over my cheek before lifting my chin ever so slightly.

  “I promise, Lemon, I will make sure that woman doesn’t cause any more trouble for either you or Evie. Nobody touches the women I love.”

  My heart warms just hearing it, but before I can say a word, his att
ention darts to something in the back of the room.

  “And there she is,” he says. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  He takes off and I force my feet to go in the opposite direction lest I follow him over and start in on that knock-down, drag-out, hair-pulling fight I plan on having with Cressida one day. And how I hate that Everett is going to waste his energy on her. It’s the very thing she wants. She was never obsessed with me. Everett has always been the object of her twisted affection.

  I’m about to head off to the outdoor patio that overlooks Honey Lake when I see a spectacle that can’t be ignored.

  Carlotta stands chatting with a couple of women while all dressed up in what looks like a medieval ball gown of sorts. She’s donned a deep crimson frock with a tight bodice and a full skirt that just so happens to have the circumference of a hula-hoop. Her hair is teased in some odd looking bouffant, and she’s wearing white satin gloves that ride up past her elbows.

  “Oh dear God, save us all,” I muster as I head in their direction.

  The group she’s chortling with disbands, and both Carlotta and Hartley Kendricks head this way.

  “Hi, Hartley.” I offer a peaceable smile to the older woman wearing a black and white plaid gown that looks fitted to her body. Her red frizzy hair is somewhat tamed in a bun with stray whips staggering out intermittently.

  “Lottie, you look divine.” She winks my way, and I wonder if that’s some socialite code for try harder next time.

  Carlotta steps forward, holding the enormous skirt she’s sunk herself in.

  “What do you think, Lot?” She holds out her hands and does a rather cumbersome spin. “I practically stole it.”

  “From where?” I ask. “The theater costume shop? This looks straight out of Victorian times. How can you breathe in that?”

  Hartley belts out a laugh, and just by the sheer delight in her voice, I can tell she agrees.

  Carlotta gives us both the stink eye. “Breathing’s overrated. Got it at the secondhand store for half off. I knew I had to pull out the big guns this afternoon. You gotta show them you’ve got some style.”