Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 8

by Addison Moore

  I cringe. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll decline.”

  Bizzy steps in. “Hey, I think we met you at the Fourth of July author signing. I can’t wait to dig into your books.”

  Jackie’s pink lips round out. “Sorry, my mind is drawing a total blank. I’ll be honest, that was one of the worst days of my life. I don’t know if you realize it or not, but Ambrosia was murdered that night.”

  “We heard,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She gives a quick glance around. “Thank you.” She shrugs. “It’s a huge loss to the writing community and an even bigger loss to her readers.” Her jaw clenches and her cheeks bite with a red hue.

  “Oooh dear.” Bingo pops up from behind me and I jump. I latch my pinky to Bizzy’s in the event the pink little piggy says something we should both be apprised of. “It looks as if she’s the guilty party. I’ve never seen anyone look so angry.”

  Bizzy gives a slight nod as if agreeing.

  “Jackie”—Bizzy leans in—“you look upset, angry even. Did you leave things off in a negative light with Ambrosia? I know how hard that is when a loved one dies before you can make things right with them.”

  Jackie rolls her eyes. “It’s that apparent, huh?” A dull laugh bounces from her. “It’s not exactly a secret that we didn’t get along.”

  “Really?” I ask, trying to sound surprised as if Jessie hadn’t already clued me in on that fact. “Ambrosia seemed so easygoing.”

  Jackie barks out a full-blown cackle. “I’m sorry, but that’s exactly what she wanted her readers to think. The ones that really knew her knew better. If she got into a scuffle with another author, she sent her rabid reader base after them. Believe me when I say it wasn’t pretty. Anyway, I had a bone to pick with her. But the truth is, so did just about everyone else.”

  Bizzy shudders. “Sorry to hear it. Can I ask what the disagreement was about? I mean, I’m assuming it was book-related.”

  “Oh, it was.” Jackie glowers at the wall behind me as if it were Ambrosia herself. “Valerie—Ambrosia—and I were good friends for a while there. The best of friends some might say. Anyway, we shared industry secrets and tried to help one another out whenever we could. One night I came up with what I thought would be a life-changing plotline, and believe me it was. It just so happens that it wasn’t my life it changed.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “She stole your idea?”

  Jackie nods. “You’re a smart cookie. I can see why Essex snatched you up.” She moves in a little more. “Val and I were having coffee one morning and I told her the details about a new series I was coming up with about a princess who escapes her country, only to find her true love in the corn fields of Nebraska. I had to line up a cover designer and fit the project into my schedule, of course. My book wouldn’t have come out until summer. Anyway, two weeks later, she puts out a new book on the fly, and you can probably guess what it was about—a princess who fled her country, only to find love in the cornfields of Nebraska. She didn’t even try to mask the plot. Even worse than that? She used the name I had picked out for my heroine. Kelena.”

  “Wow,” I say. “I mean, I guess there was no denying it.”

  Bingo belts out a choir of snorts. “I would have kicked her. Sorry to my Valerie, but there’s nothing a good hoof to the face can’t fix.”

  Bizzy clears her throat. “What did Ambrosia have to say when you confronted her?”

  “She denied that I ever told her about it, and when I pressed, she tossed her hands up and said so kill me. I have a lousy memory. She mentioned that she must have confused it as her own idea. She was full of it if you ask me. That’s when I started to ask around and it turns out Ambrosia Whispers”—she says her name in air quotes—“had quite the reputation for milking other people for ideas. I wouldn’t be surprised if all of her work was ripped off.”

  “That’s terrible,” I say. “I’m sorry she stole your idea. I can’t imagine how frustrating that would be.”

  Jackie twists her lips. “She turned it into a bestseller, too. I’d like to think I would have done the same.”

  “I’m sure you would have,” Bizzy adds. “You’re an amazing author. Hey? You made it sound like you’re familiar with the people Ambrosia crossed. Who do you think would have been angry enough to stick a knife in her back?”

  Jackie touches her fingers to her lips as she looks to the floor contemplating this.

  “Henry.” She nods with sincere confirmation.

  “Who?” Bizzy and I ask in unison.

  “Her ex. He was there, lurking around the author signing that day. Anyway, Ambrosia and he had a wild breakup. It was epic, one for the ages. One she chronicled in her book, The Cheater’s Diary. That, too, was a bestseller.”

  “Henry Henderson?” Bizzy’s eyes widen as if she wasn’t trying to bait the girl.

  Good one, Bizzy, I say to her telepathically, and her lips curl up at the corners.

  Jackie shakes her head. “Henry Watson. He’s some lowlife that works down at an aptly named dive bar, Lowlifes. Anyway, he’s a bartender. That’s how they met. We had an author meet-up there one year just before Christmas. The party was so-so, but Ambrosia came away with the biggest prize of all, a shiny new boyfriend. Anyway, he turned out to be a boobie prize.”

  Someone calls her name and she looks past us.

  “I’d better get back to work. Good thing my uncle owns this joint or I would have been fired a long time ago.” She takes off and Bizzy pulls me in close.

  “She sure didn’t have one nice thought about Ambrosia. But she didn’t exactly confess to the killing her either.”

  “We need to read Ambrosia’s book,” I say.

  Bizzy nods. “And right after that trip to the library, I think we need to head to a dive bar called Lowlifes.”

  “I bet Georgie and Carlotta will love it there, and I mean that in the best way.”

  Bizzy laughs. “Here’s hoping they don’t pick up a couple of lowlifes of their own.”

  We head back, and as soon as we finish up with dinner, we all hit the dance floor with the exception of Noah. Even Carlotta and Georgie are dancing with a couple of dashing older men. Even though Carlotta is dating Mayor Nash, Harry, my biological father, it’s never stopped her from having a good time with other men.

  Everett leans in and brushes a kiss over my cheek and the entire left side of my body electrifies.

  “Lemon, you have no idea what you’re doing to me with that dress. I love it, and more importantly the woman in it.”

  A laugh bubbles from me. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me in that suit. I think these irritating clothes best come off first chance we get.”

  “Why wait? There’s a perfectly good darkened hall to our right.”

  I bite down over my lip, partially tempted. Everett has been known to pull me away to a darkened corridor a time or two.

  Noah pops up and taps Everett on the shoulder.

  “Not now, Fox. We’re having a private conversation.”

  “Funny.” Noah tips his head back. “I never denied you the chance to dance with Lottie.”

  Everett turns his way with a marked look of irritation on his face.

  “Why is it you always have to be in the driver’s seat, Noah? If I want to finish a dance with my wife—finish a conversation with her, I should be able to do so without you crawling all over my back.”

  “She might be your wife, but she’s my girlfriend and don’t you forget it. Just because you conveniently landed her in a marital commitment doesn’t mean anything. It was nothing more than a desperate attempt to hold onto Lottie, and you know it.”

  Everett’s chest bucks with a silent laugh. “I don’t need to resort to desperate attempts. What Lemon and I share isn’t child’s play.”

  “Oh?” Noah steps in with a threat in his eyes. “And you’re saying what Lottie and I had was? Lottie and I have a real relationship. I never had to chase her through the neighborho
od while she was in her bikini. At the end of the day, you’re nothing more than an animal. You’re an insult to animals because animals have the ability to cultivate relationships with people. Something you’ve never been able to do. The truth is, I didn’t have to steal Cormack. She craved the emotional connection I was able to give her.”

  “Excuse me, Lemon. The trash is starting to stink. I’d better take it out.”

  He pulls Noah in by the lapels and gives him a violent shove.

  Soon, Noah and Everett exchange fists to the eye and every band member morphs into a bouncer, landing the two of them out on the sidewalk.

  It’s clear dinner is officially over.

  One thing that isn’t over is Noah and Everett’s personal war.

  And my investigation into Ambrosia Whispers’ death—well, that’s just getting started.

  Chapter 8

  The Honey Hollow Library is tucked into a hillside that affords views of the whole town from its bird’s eye perch.

  It’s the very next afternoon, post the horrific brawl between Noah and Everett.

  I sigh as I look to Bizzy. “I can’t help but note there was a heck of a lot more peace between the two of them when I was with Noah. I’m not saying Noah is immature. I’m just saying this reversal is new and it really stings his heart.”

  Carlotta, Georgie, and Macy are snapping pictures of themselves with Honey Lake in the background while Bizzy and I wait to head into the library.

  Lily is watching the bakery for me and already we’ve sold out of flag cakes for the day. I guess July is a patriotic month in general, but it doesn’t hurt that the entire town has fallen in love with the creamy goodness.

  Bizzy hugs herself for a moment. “Noah seems like a really nice guy. I mean, Everett does, too.” Her eyes widen a notch as if she were covering something.

  I’m about to probe just what that might be when Georgie and Carlotta stream into the library.

  Macy hitches her head in that direction. “Come on, girls. It’s time to load up on dirty books.”

  Inside the library it’s considerably cooler than the hot humid air of a Vermont summer.

  “Oh, it’s heaven in here,” Bizzy whispers, fanning herself with her fingers.

  “I’m glad about it, too,” I whisper back. “My sister is due in a month. I can’t imagine how miserable she must be in this heat.” I hold out the pink bakery box in my hand her way. “Last chance for a fresh baked Danish.”

  “I’m still full from the blueberry Danish I had at the bakery this morning. Lottie, I don’t know how you show any restraint. I’d eat away all my profits if I were you.”

  “Believe me, I’m close.”

  The library is bustling and I’m not too surprised, seeing that it’s at least thirty degrees cooler in here. The library itself is spacious, lined with plush carpeting to keep the noise volume at a minimum. Almost every table and chair is filled to capacity and there are groups of mothers with toddlers in tow headed toward the glass room in the back for story time, I’m assuming.

  I spot Lainey seated at the front reception desk and we head on over.

  “Lottie Lemon,” my sister groans, waddling her way around her desk to pull me into a sideways hug.

  Lainey’s caramel-colored hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she’s donned a pink and white floral dress over her enormous belly. Of course, I would never tell her it was enormous to her face, but, I’ll admit, it looks painfully distended. I’m terrified for my poor sweet sister to actually have to endure childbirth. I mean, I know women do it every day, but both she and Keelie are going to have to experience it in a very real way in just a few weeks, and from what television has shown me, it won’t be a picnic.

  Lainey pries open the box. “Danishes! It’s like you read my mind. I’ve been craving cheese Danishes like nobody’s business. What brings you and the crew to my literary neck of the woods?” she asks, glancing over at Georgie and Carlotta who are currently perusing the what’s new section.

  Bizzy takes a breath. “We’re in search of books and we’re hoping you can help us.”

  “That’s the name of my game.” She sets the bakery box aside. “Now let’s get reading. Who? What? Where? And when?” she teases.

  I give her the name of Ambrosia Whispers’ book, The Cheater’s Diary, and Lainey leads the charge.

  Georgie and Carlotta tag along as well and we all pause as a group when Lainey shows us the expansive Ambrosia Whispers’ catalog the library has their hands on.

  “Wow,” Bizzy says, running her finger along the spines. “This is quite a collection.”

  “Yup.” Georgie pulls one off the shelf. “She was pretty prolific. Ladies and Scallywags was one of my favorite series. I guess now we’ll never know which scallywag Sharla chose to spend her life with. Now that Ambrosia is dead, she took all of our happy endings with her.”

  Lainey moans, “I’m sorry to hear that, Georgie. But the good part is, the characters will live on forever.” The spine of a book catches her eye. “Oh, look, Lottie, here’s the book you requested, The Cheater’s Diary.”

  “You have two copies,” Bizzy points out, taking the second copy for herself. “Looks as if Lottie and I are about to have a read along.”

  Carlotta slaps her hands together. “Now let’s get to the good part. You got any books by Jackie Hart?”

  Lainey makes a face. “If I had a dime for every time someone asks me that. She’s quite a popular lady.” She walks us over a few aisles. “Here we go.” She waves a hand over a about a dozen books.

  I blink back. “Ambrosia had nearly the entire shelf to herself in comparison. I guess she really was prolific.”

  Lainey nods furtively. “She really was. I’d say Jackie is more on par with what I’ve seen. The strange thing is that they’ve both been writing for about ten years or so. I guess Ambrosia never slept.”

  “Huh,” Bizzy says while thumbing through the book in her hand. “This is supposed to be based on true events that occurred after she caught her boyfriend cheating on her.”

  “Really?” Lainey leans in. “I might just have to read that myself once you’re done. I bet she slaughters him in his sleep. That’s what I would do.”

  I lean an ear her way. “Should I warn Forest?”

  She shakes her head. “You don’t have to. That man knows what one wayward glance will get him, let alone an entire body. Speaking of which, look at me. I’m the size of the library—heck, it looks as if I ate the library and it’s all his fault. He and those wayward glances.”

  I can’t help but giggle. “I can’t wait to hold your baby in my arms. And, I can’t wait for the big double baby shower coming up. Any requests for the dessert table?”

  She twitches her lips. “I don’t know, but I sure do have a hankering for a cheese Danish.”

  “Ah-ha!” Georgie shouts, inspiring a ring of shhs coming from the surrounding tables. “Here it is,” she whispers as loud as she can while pulling a book off the shelves. “In the Judge’s Chamber by Jackie Hart.”

  “Oh thank God, there’s more than one copy.” Carlotta takes another off the shelf, as does Macy.

  Bizzy shoulders her way in. “What about me?”

  “Bizzy!” I laugh at the thought of her wanting a copy. “Okay, fine. What about me?”

  “Here.” Lainey reaches up and pulls out another copy that got pushed to the back. “The two of you will have to share. I’ll admit, it’s unusual for us to have so many copies, but this book has gotten more requests than just about any other romance book in here—combined.”

  My cheeks heat at the prospect of reading all about Everett’s sexual dalliances. I much prefer living them, especially while they’re happening to me.

  Bizzy hands me the book. “You can have it. I’ll share Georgie or Macy’s copy with them.”

  Georgie grunts, already immersed within the text. “Good luck prying this out of my cold, dead hands. I’m taking this one to the afterlife with me.”

 
; “Ditto,” Macy says, pulling the book closer to her face as she begins in on the reading adventure herself.

  Carlotta gives a whoop as she buries her own nose in her copy. “Is it wrong that I’m envisioning my little Lot Lot as Loretta, the judge’s red-hot flame?”

  Macy gives a dark laugh. “Is it wrong that I’m envisioning myself?”

  “Ditto,” Georgie says.

  Bizzy shrugs as she glances to the unopened book in my hand.

  Lainey leans over Carlotta’s shoulder. “What’s the big deal about this book that has turned you all into bona fide reading zombies?”

  Carlotta lifts her chin, her eyes never straying from the words on the page in front of her.

  “The author wrote this book after having some hot chamber loving with Lot Lot’s man. It’s basically a tell-all of his naughty, intimate ways.”

  “Everett?” Lainey squawks as she wrangles the book from Carlotta and begins to take in as many words as she can before Carlotta tries to wrangle it right back.

  “Oh, what the heck.” I crack open the book in my hands, and Bizzy and I get right to reading. “Wow,” I muse as I quickly flip through the pages, looking for the juicy stuff, but there’s no real need. Each page is chock-full of juicy stuff. “He’s definitely honed that skill,” I whisper.

  Bizzy gasps as she dots her finger over a paragraph. “Is that even legal?”

  Lainey looks over her shoulder. “Is it painful?”

  “No to both,” I say as I snap the book shut. “Do you think there’s a plotline in there?”

  Lainey snatches the book from me. “Who cares?”

  Carlotta and Georgie let out a simultaneous howl.

  “Lot Lot.” Carlotta kicks me in the back of the knee. “Quick, check page thirty-three. I need verification he’s still using that move.”

  Georgie pulls the book away and comes up for air. “If he is, consider my hat officially in the ring.”