Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 8

by Addison Moore

  Bizzy inverts her lips. “It was me. But in truth, it was my friend Georgie who was pegged as the killer. So I guess that makes this my investigation. And I sort of asked Lottie to help out.”

  I give a furious nod to Keelie. “And believe me, as soon as you’re able, you’re riding shotgun on any future criminal chase I might find myself in.”

  Keelie makes a face as she presses a hand to her belly.

  “Actually”—she gives a little shrug—“I’d hate to do anything to endanger myself. I’m the only mama this little sweet pea is going to get. I mean, what if something happened to me all because you had a hankering to take down a killer? Bear would get remarried. Some other woman would step into my brand new mama shoes, and I’d have to come back to haunt both of them. That’s not very nice, now is it? So where does that leave us, Lottie Lemon? Where, I ask you? Where?”

  Bizzy’s eyes bulge a moment at my bestie’s theatrics.

  “I think I have a solution.” Bizzy reaches into her tote bag and lands her laptop next to Keelie. “We need help with research. You can do that right here while eating a piece of Lottie’s delicious flag cake. And best of all, there is nothing that can happen to you while doing it.”

  Keelie sucks in a quick breath. “That’s a great idea! I can be your right-hand research gal!” She bucks in her seat. “But you’re wrong about nothing happening to me. I think I’m having a bladder attack. Here’s hoping I can make it to the restroom.” She does an odd little mermaid wiggle all the way back to the Honey Pot and we don’t dare try to stop her.

  Mom takes a hearty bite out of Keelie’s cake.

  “Mmm,” she moans. “Let’s have a nice variety for the shower, Lottie. Throw in a few dozen flag cake cupcakes, peach cobblers, those cheese Danishes that Lainey is always drooling over, and a full cookie bar. I’m thinking pinks and blues as far as the iced sugar cookies go.” She starts to head out the door. “Oh, and you’re both invited to the book club at noon tomorrow in the conservatory. Jackie Hart will be reading from her book, as I will be from mine. And I’ll give you both copies featuring my brand new cover! You won’t believe how steamy it is.”

  “She means scary,” I whisper to Bizzy. “I’ve seen it.” A thought hits me. “Mom? Will Jessie Lane by chance be at the reading tomorrow?”

  She snaps her fingers. “Good idea! I’ll invite her to come. Once she sees my new cover, I’m just certain she’ll share it with all of her social media friends. I just can’t wait to be a virus hit.”

  “Viral,” I shout after her, but it’s too late. She’s gone. “Although, considering who her new boyfriend is, virus isn’t a far cry from the truth. Wiley Fox has been known to get around like a contagion or a parasite. Thankfully, Noah is nothing like his father.” My shoulders sag just thinking of Noah. I’d be lying if there weren’t more than a smidge of guilt over everything I’m putting him through.

  Bizzy makes tracks through the whipped cream on her plate with her fork. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

  “I do.” I shake my head. “But Everett and I…we’re”—I glance down at my wedding ring, and it’s as if a light turns on inside my heart—“married, or at least for all practical purposes we are. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t say I was loving it. I’m loving him.”

  Her expression grows dark, and she clears her throat.

  “How about we start the investigation for Keelie since she’s currently indisposed?” Bizzy fires up her laptop, and soon we’re surfing the internet, reading all sorts of reviews and blog posts concerning Ambrosia Whispers’ books. “Looks as if her fans agree. Half of them say it’s as if she’s two different authors.”

  I point to one review in particular. “A literary Jekyll and Hyde.”

  Bizzy and I shake our heads at the screen.

  “We’ll see if Jessie knows anything,” she says.

  “I wonder if we can get ahold of her laptop?”

  Bizzy’s eyes light up with a mischievous fire. “I bet you know a detective who would give it to you gift wrapped.”

  “Noah won’t do it.”

  “Please.” Bizzy glances to the ceiling. “You have him eating out of the palm of your hand. That man would dig up a graveyard if you asked him to.”

  My lips twitch from side to side. “He may have already tried to dig up a body or two, but that graveside shenanigan was partially done to clear his good name.”

  “Point proven. What are we waiting for?”

  “Let’s talk to Jessie first. And if she doesn’t give us the answers we need, we’ll ask Noah.”

  “You’ll ask Noah.” She nods. “That man would give you the world, Lottie Lemon.”

  My chest squeezes tight because I just so happen to know she’s right.

  Chapter 13

  The very next day the Honey Hollow B&B is brimming with bodies—almost all of them exclusively female, and one hundred percent of them are crammed into my mother’s conservatory.

  Bizzy is the first to greet me as I arrive. She helps Lily Swanson and me unload the bakery van and get the cookies and flag cake cupcakes out onto the dessert table my mother has set out.

  “Lily really wanted to come and hear Jackie Hart read her work,” I tell Bizzy.

  Lily nods. “I figured why not? We’ve got a skeleton crew running the bakery and I really do love Jackie’s work. I was pretty much able to corroborate everything she wrote in In the Judge’s Chamber. Essex and I go way back.” She gives a sly wink to Bizzy, and I can’t help but snarl.

  Lily and Everett were more or less a one-night stand—okay, so a couple of one-night-stands, but that was it. In fact, that about sums up every other sexual relationship Everett has had with other women in a nutshell.

  Lily leans toward Bizzy. “I hear your sister is dating my ex.”

  Bizzy looks to me for help just as the sister in question pops up.

  “Lily”—I say with not nearly as much caution as I should be expending—“you’ve met Bizzy’s sister, Macy, haven’t you?”

  “Briefly.” Lily’s lips twitch a short-lived smile. “I’m Lily Swanson, Alex’s ex.” She lifts her chin a notch. “So what do you think of the Fox Express?”

  Macy’s left eyebrow hooks into her forehead. “I’m thinking I may need a ticket to ride for a long time to come.”

  Lily chortles at the thought. “Well then”—she steps in close to Macy and begins to navigate her away—“let me fill you in on everything I know.”

  They take off and both Carlotta and Evie fill their void.

  “Hey, Mom.” Evie gives me a brief hug, and I take in her sugary sweet perfume. Evie’s long dark hair is coiled in neat waves and her cobalt blue eyes siren out just like her daddy’s.

  Carlotta has donned a navy and white tie-dyed kaftan, and I have a sneaking suspicion that there’s a matching one just like it running around here somewhere. Carlotta looks as if she’s cradling something in her arms and, sure enough, a cute little pink nose pokes out from the fabric of her sleeve.

  “Fish!” Bizzy trills as she gives her sweet kitten a scratch between her ears. “Are you having a good time?”

  Bizzy stares intently at the black and white tabby a moment.

  Bizzy looks up at Evie and me. “She says there are far too many people here to have a good time. But she doesn’t plan on leaving. She wants in on the book club.”

  Evie laughs at the thought. “You and me both, Fish.” She wags a book in my face. “Look what Glam Glam, or should I say Mirandy Lemonade, gave me. It’s a signed copy. It’s got the new cover and everything.”

  Glam Glam is what my mother opted for instead of going the traditional route and being called plain ol’ Grandma.

  I suck in a quick breath as I pluck the naughty book from her. But before I can berate the fact my mother gave her the tawdry tome, I quickly inspect the cover and cringe.

  “Oh, it’s even worse in person.” I all but gag out the words. Wiley stands proud on the cover, bare-chested, with three differen
t hands pressed to his torso with something sticky layered between them.

  Bizzy recoils at the sight, as she should. “What is that weird film on his skin?”

  “Wax, but it certainly doesn’t photograph well.”

  Evie bucks with laughter. “That’s hilarious! I bet Glam Glam really thought this looked hot. Boomers can’t be expected to know any better.”

  Carlotta glances her way. “Spoken like a true millennial.” She plucks the book from me. “And for your information, little Miss Evie, Mirandy was just handing it to you so you could pass it my way. This hot little ditty is mine.” She holds it close to her chest. “I’ve already read the first edition, of course. In fact, I’ve convinced Harry to act out a few of the scenes with me. He’s coming over tonight and we’re doing just that.”

  “Eww.” Evie fans the air in front of her nose as if Carlotta just let a noxious odor fly. “That’s, like, totally gross.” She snaps the book back out of Carlotta’s hand and makes a run for it.

  “Get back here, kid,” Carlotta shouts over the murmur of the blossoming crowd. “I plan on using that as a battle guide!” She takes off after her and so does Fish by proxy.

  Bizzy winces as she looks into the crowd. “Do you see, Georgie?”

  “No, are you worried?” Actually, come to think of it, she probably should be. Carlotta and Georgie have been glued at the hip. Here’s hoping Georgie didn’t break one.

  “Not yet.” Bizzy makes a face. “Okay, so I’m a wee bit worried.”

  “Boo!” a female voice blows the word into my ear and I jump, only to find Greer Giles in all her unearthly illumination. Greer glows a peculiar shade of green and her long dark hair looks as if an entire onyx solar system was trapped in it. I say that each and every time, but only because each and every time I’d swear it was true.

  “Give me your hand,” I say to Bizzy as I take up her cool fingers. “Greer is here. And she looks great, by the way.” I nod over to the sultry spook. “You really do.”

  Greer pretends to fluff her hair with her hand. “I’ve been digging into Macy’s cosmetics. She’s got all the good stuff on hand. No offense, Bizzy. But I’ve never been into anything they’re willing to sell you at the grocery store.”

  Bizzy looks indifferent. “No offense taken. You wouldn’t have happened to see Georgie, would you?”

  Before Greer could so much as bellow out a haunted reply, the distracting snorts of an adorable piglet come from the right.

  Both Bizzy and I turn that way, even though only one of us can actually hope to see anything, and Bingo is strutting right through the crowd, and I mean right through the crowd in the most literal sense. And on her back is a happy little ghoul, little Lea with her hair combed straight over her face, her tiny Mary Janes kicking at Bingo’s sides as if spurring her on. A flash of something glimmering and black sits nestled in a ball right in front of Lea, and I’m guessing that’s Thirteen curled up for a nap.

  Greer bubbles with a tiny laugh. “I like to call this bring your deceased daughter to work day. Lea said if she hears one icky bit, she’s ditching this good time. But don’t you worry, Lottie Lemon. I’m not going anywhere. Bring on the sleaze, please.” She gives a cheeky wink.

  Mom runs by, looking frazzled before she spots me and backtracks.

  “Oh, Lottie, Bizzy, we’re just about to get underway. I saved you both seats up front. Please don’t be shy. Feel free to ask as many questions as you wish during the Q&A.” She makes a face as she leans in. “It’s going to be embarrassing if I don’t get a single question aimed my way.”

  “I’ll ask you two,” Bizzy offers. “It’s the least I can do for letting my pets stay at the B&B.”

  Mom waves her off. “They’re not pets. They’re furry family members. And you’re always welcome. In fact, Sherlock Bones is curled up next to Wiley as we speak. I think he’s inspiring Wiley into getting a dog himself.” She zips off into the crowd as she tries to coerce the masses into taking a seat.

  “Wiley is a dog,” I say, leaning into Bizzy.

  Greer floats up a few feet off the ground, and the unearthly sight makes my stomach do a soft revolution. I can get used to a lot of things, but seeing a human, dead or alive, levitate off the ground is apparently where my stomach draws the line. I go to pick up Bizzy’s hand and note I’m still conveniently holding it.

  “There’s Georgie.” She points a ghostly finger toward the front of the room. “By the reception desk.”

  “Huh. Georgie looks as if she’s staring right through the wall,” I say as I lead Bizzy right out of the congested room.

  And just as we’re about to peruse the area for a kaftan-loving rebel-rouser, we run into three distinctly handsome men.

  “Hey,” I say with a laugh caught in my throat. “What are you three doing here?” I ask as I size up Jasper, Everett, and Noah—each one looking far more dapper than the next.

  Jasper is quick to snatch Bizzy from me and wrap his arms around her.

  “I’m here to see my fiancée,” he says. “Rumor has it, the book club is an event not to be missed.”

  Everett’s lips twitch with devilish intent as he pulls me in and wraps his arms around my waist.

  “And I’m here to see my wife.” Everett brushes his lips against mine and my entire body demands to riot for more.

  Noah nods my way, the clear look of irritation on his face.

  “And I’m here to observe a suspect. My case is growing cold, and I don’t like it.”

  Carlotta pops up next to Noah. “Rumor has it, your showers are growing cold, too. Now, where’s my bestie?” She juts her head in ten different directions. “Gray?”

  “I’m here!” Georgie wails as she barrels into our circle. “Good going, Carlotta, you’ve got two detectives and a judge for me.” She latches her hand over Noah’s wrist. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” Noah asks, taking off with her and the rest of us follow suit.

  “I’ve got the killer trapped in the broom closet!”

  “What?” Bizzy and I chirp in a panic.

  Bizzy pulls Georgie back. “What do you mean you’ve got the killer trapped? Please tell me there’s not a real person in some closet just waiting to press charges against you. Boy, you are determined to never see Maine again.”

  “Of course, there’s a person trapped in a closet. I’m speaking English, aren’t I?” She pulls Noah along until we come to a small linen closet just shy of the reception counter. “All right, Foxy, get ready to cuff ’em.” Georgie yanks the door open and out tumbles Lily Swanson. “There she is!” Georgie holds up a crooked finger to her. “The killer!”

  Lily’s dark mane is tousled and her cheeks are flaming red, which only brings out the rage in her eyes.

  “Oh, I am going to kill her,” Lily seethes. “Naomi Turner will rue the day she thought fit to lock me away in a closet.” She blows right past us and Noah doesn’t move a muscle in an effort to arrest her.

  “What are you waiting for?” Georgie howls. “She’s getting away! Where’s Sherlock? That little furry dude never lets me down.”

  Noah rubs Georgie’s arm. “I’m not trying to let you down. Now tell me exactly what happened.”

  “She confessed! I heard her telling Macy she was going to get her, just the way she got her best friend.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think they were talking about death. Not literally. Lily and Naomi both dated Alex at the very same time. And strangely, Lily still likes Alex as a friend. Maybe she was trying to be protective of him, as in she would come after Macy if she hurt Alex?”

  Georgie smirks. “Or maybe she was trying to up the body count?”

  A shrill whistle comes from the conservatory as my mother calls everyone to their seats and we move as a small mob into the glass room and we somehow squeeze ourselves into the front row. Up front there are four chairs and an elongated table set before them loaded with small stacks of Jackie’s books and my mother’s. Jessie Lane is seated at the
edge of the table and is holding a microphone, and seated on the opposite end of the table is Wiley Fox, as if he truly had the right to be up there. But then again, he did convince my mother to sign a publishing contract with him that gives him over sixty percent of her sales. He’s as wily a fox as his name suggests. But I can’t blame my mother for falling head over heels in love with him. He’s essentially Noah Fox with about thirty years on him.

  Jessie welcomes the crowd as she speaks evenly into the microphone.

  “My name is Jessie Lane, and I’m here to help facilitate this special event. We’ve got two lovely authors with us this afternoon. Let’s give a warm welcome to the fabulous Jackie Hart!” The room goes wild with a deafening applause and a few errant catcalls.

  Jackie gives a wild wave to Everett. “You came, Essex! You came!”

  Everett offers a friendly nod her way. There’s no harm in Jackie thinking Everett showed up just to hear her speak about her books. I hope.

  “And let’s welcome newcomer to the romance world, Mirandy Limeade!”

  “Lemonade,” my mother corrects with a smile, but there’s dead silence in the room for a moment until I start to clap and the rest of the front row joins me.

  My mother grows quickly crestfallen, but just as quickly brushes it off.

  Jessie is right. This writing gig is a new career path for my mother. Of course, she didn’t get the lion’s share of the applause. The audience has yet to know her. Here’s hoping this afternoon changes everything. Or not. I’m not exactly thrilled to think this could actually propel her further into Wiley’s clutches.

  Jessie announces that Jackie and a lucky audience member will read a portion from her book together, and Jackie wastes no time in getting out of her seat and yanking Everett to the front of the room.

  Jackie shoves a copy of her book into Everett’s hands and they read nearly an entire chapter—of the least raunchy material in the book. That’s not saying a lot, considering there are words being exchanged that I’m positive have driven Evie straight out of the room in horror, or in the least motivated her to shove her earbuds into her ears.