Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 8

by Addison Moore

  But it’s harvest time and my fingers are twitching for justice.

  What Noah and Everett don’t know won’t hurt them.

  And for sure it won’t hurt anything in my barren womb.

  Back at my place, Everett and I turn out the lights as he makes me forget all about the evils of this world, the lies and secrets trying to wedge their way between us.

  We head back to simpler times, sexier times, and I have my way with Judge Baxter and his gavel.

  Chapter 7

  As soon as Everett pulled out of the driveway this morning, I jumped into my car and did my best to tail him without being noticed. I lost him twice, once in traffic and once taking the turn off to Ashford. Lucky for me, I happened to have a feeling exactly which coffee shop he’ll be meeting his stalker in. And no sooner do I pull into the lot than I spot his car up front, and Noah’s truck, too.

  Bingo.

  It’s a hot and humid morning, despite the fact a thick cloud bank is covering the sky. August is usually a time of extreme weather around these parts, and if I’m right, it looks as if an electrical storm is brewing.

  I ditch into the coffee shop, where the fresh scent of brewed java enlivens me from the inside out, and I can’t help but smile. It was right outside these doors where I officially met Everett. I tripped over him and sent him sailing into the bushes, and our bodies connected in about a dozen intimate ways, even though we were fully clothed. He was outright annoyed with me at that point, but that didn’t stop me from following him into this very coffee shop while trying to wrangle his name out of him. All I got was Mr. Sexy, per the moniker printed on his coffee cup, and, boy, did that barista ever get it right. And later that morning, I discovered Mr. Sexy was the sitting judge presiding over my trial. My landlord had taken me to court over sheer nonsense and Everett wisely sided with me.

  “Lottie?” Noah’s voice hikes from somewhere to my left and I give both him and Everett a friendly wave as I head on over. Both men stand in my honor and I give a bright smile as I spot a woman seated with the two of them. She has wiry cinnamon hair, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose, and a wavering smile. She looks about my age, late twenties, and she’s wearing a red and black checkered flannel that hangs loosely on her.

  “Well, what a surprise.” I bat my lashes, and both Noah and Everett frown over at me.

  “Lemon,” Everett says my name with a stern inflection, the kind I’ve only ever heard in the confines of one of our bedrooms—and perhaps a bubble bath a time or two. “I’m in a meeting. How about you pick up a cup of coffee on me and find a table in the back? I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

  He pulls a ten dollar bill out of his pocket, but I choose to ignore the bribery. Instead, I plunk myself down in the seat right next to him.

  “Or feel free to join us,” he says with a touch of exasperation.

  Noah sharpens his disdain with me himself as he glowers my way.

  But I choose to ignore the irate males among me and hold out a hand to the woman to my right.

  “I’m Lottie,” I say.

  Her mouth opens as if she were pleasantly surprised. “And I’m—”

  “The woman who dumped water and flour over my husband,” I finish for her because I already know exactly who she is, Brandy Fielding. “Look here, missy. I love both of these men, and if anything happens to either one of them, you’ll have me to deal with. Get it? Got it? Good. Because I have a bakery to run. So you have exactly five minutes to tell me why you think Everett can change the fate of your boyfriend.”

  “Peter didn’t do it.” She shakes her head furiously. “The whole case against him, it was wrong. It was rushed.”

  “Okay.” I pull Everett’s coffee my way and take a sip. “Fill me in on the evidence.”

  Her mouth falls open with wonder. “Are you an attorney or a detective or something?”

  “I’m a baker. But we can go with either of your versions.” I motion for her to continue.

  Brandy leans in. “Peter was at the scene of the crime, that’s true. It was late Saturday night at the Chicken Hut out in Leeds. Peter was the only customer in there, or so he thought. He said he finished his sandwich and chili fries and went to the bathroom. When he came out, he saw the manager lying over the counter with a bullet in his chest. The police stormed in within five seconds and threw him to the ground, and his life was never the same.”

  I glance to Noah and Everett. “What about the murder weapon?”

  Noah sniffs. “They found it on the floor of the restaurant. They think Peter dropped it.”

  Everett nods. “And the prosecutors built such a solid defense, the jury came back quickly with a guilty verdict.”

  Brandy scoffs over at him. “You had the power to free him.”

  “That’s not how it works,” Everett says the words slowly to her. “I took into account the circumstances and weighed it carefully. He was guilty and he deserved a harsh sentence.”

  “No.” She moans as she closes her eyes. “Don’t you see you’re wrong?”

  Her pain is palpable. Her frustration is very much on the surface. She doesn’t strike me as psychotic in the least, simply a woman desperate for someone to hear her out—and understand her side of the story—the one she firmly believes is the truth.

  “I’m sorry.” Everett reaches over and gives her hand a quick pat. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “How about another trial?” I direct the question to her. “Or maybe his attorney can file an appeal?”

  She shakes her head. “I’ve tried it all and bankrupted myself doing it. Peter Green looked me in the eye and said he didn’t do it. He didn’t have a gun. He wasn’t even hard up for money at the time it happened. None of it makes sense.”

  “What about surveillance footage from the restaurant? Maybe outdoor cameras from the businesses across the street?”

  She glances to the table. “The Chicken Hut had one. It showed Peter was the only person in the dining room. It shows him getting up and heading toward the bathroom.”

  “The register,” Everett counters.

  She shakes her head with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know how they did it, but it’s not right. Something went very wrong that night—for both the manager and Peter.” She sniffs as she pulls her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you for your time, Judge Baxter. I guess I’ve played all my cards. I’m going to stop by and visit Peter now.”

  She starts to leave, and I motion for her to wait while I pull out my phone.

  “What’s your number?” I ask with a curt tone to my voice. I can’t help it. I’m the one who helped Everett wash that greasy lipstick of hers off his windshield.

  “Why?”

  “So I don’t have to track you down when I have questions.”

  She quickly gives it to me before leaning in.

  “Thank you so much.” Her voice trembles. “I don’t care if you bake cakes. As far as I’m concerned, you should be wearing a cape for caring. Thank you, Lottie.” She gives a tiny wave before speeding out of the coffee house.

  “Lottie.” Noah doesn’t look too impressed with my newly minted superhero status.

  “Lemon.” Everett is even less impressed than Noah.

  Noah growls over at him, “What the hell were you thinking inviting that woman out for a kaffeeklatsch?”

  “And as you witnessed, she’s harmless,” Everett shoots back. “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought she was a danger.”

  Noah shakes his head as he pulls his coffee to his lips. “You’re not a good judge of character.”

  “I am a good judge of character. I knew not to trust you, didn’t I?”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes at that one.

  “All right, boys.” I narrow my eyes over at Everett. “Why is it that all roads lead back to Cormack?” I lean in. “And why is it I get the feeling she knows your deep, dark secret?”

  Everett’s lips twitch and I can tell I’ve struck a nerve.

 
“Not here, Lemon.” He sighs as he pulls his coffee back to himself. “Let me get you some decaf. This is leaded. It’s not good for the baby.”

  He takes off and Noah leans in.

  “How are you feeling, Lot?” He picks up my hand and kisses it. “Is the baby still making you feel bad?”

  “I feel fine.” I glance in the direction Everett went in. “It’s Everett and his big secret that’s making me feel bad.”

  “Big secret?” Noah mumbles under his breath as he watches Everett in line. “You want me to get to the bottom of it?”

  “I want to get to the bottom of it.”

  Everett lands back at the table and slides a cup of iced coffee my way, and I quickly suck down half of it.

  “Everett,” I say as I come up for air. “Lay it on me, right now. I can’t take another minute of this.”

  His lips curl into his cheeks. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

  Noah groans. “You wish.”

  “I don’t have to wish.” Everett blinks his way before pulling my hand forward. “This isn’t the right time. We’re all headed off to work. We’ll get together soon when we all have time to process it. Maybe later this weekend.”

  “We?” Noah seems amused to be included in the equation and Everett nods.

  “That’s right. I want you there, too.” He blows out a steady breath. “And with Lemon’s delicate state, I think she’ll appreciate all the support she can get.”

  “Why am I going to need support?” Of the emotional variety, I assume. And then I remember my not so delicate state and close my eyes. “Never mind. I’ll have some news to share myself. I think you’re right. The weekend is perfect—after the filming at my mother’s place.” And that’s when I’ll break both of their hearts and let them know I’m not carrying anyone’s baby.

  But what in the world is Everett going to share?

  And does it have the power to break my heart?

  Bizzy thought so when she read Everett’s mind.

  Everett seems to think so, too.

  Chapter 8

  After my little tête-à-tête with Noah, Everett, and poor Brandy, I kissed Everett goodbye, Noah kissed me, then Everett offered me a far juicier kiss that was sealed with a promise of far juicier things to come—then Noah declared his love for me and the child in my womb, and Everett did the same. A peal of thunder went off and a sprinkling of rain broke the membrane of the sky, and by a sheer miracle, they both insisted I get back to Honey Hollow.

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is just getting through with its morning rush as I make my way through the door. A full-blown thunderstorm has erupted, and I doubt anyone will complain. The summer heat can get pretty awful around these parts.

  “Finally.” Keelie waddles in from the Honey Pot with raindrops pimpling her skin. “I just had to step outside and, boy, was it refreshing. Peach cobbler, please,” she says, taking a seat. “The whole pie, Lottie.” She gives me a stern look as if I were thinking of cheating her.

  Lily laughs. “I’ll get that for you, Keelie.”

  I follow Keelie to a table with my laptop and a cup of coffee.

  “It’s decaf,” I say, pushing it her way. “How are you feeling, Keels? Hey, you’re not working today, are you?”

  “No.” She scowls as she takes a careful sip from the coffee I just slid her way. “I just had nothing else to do. Bear wants me to stay home, watch TV, and eat bonbons, but I ran out of bonbons, so I thought I’d come here and stock up on something better.”

  Lily lands an entire peach cobbler and a few forks in front of Keelie and me as my bestie gets right to work.

  Lily takes a seat. “So, are you scared, Keelie? An entire person is about to expel from your bottom. It’s gonna hurt something awful. Have you thought about asking Bear to knock you unconscious when the first pangs of torment begin?”

  Both Keelie and I gawk at Lily in horror.

  The bell on the door chimes, and thankfully a small crowd comes in, forcing Lily back behind the counter.

  And among that crowd just so happens to be my older, adorable sister Lainey.

  “Would you get over here?” I hop up and pull out a seat for her. “You’re soaking wet. Let me get you a towel.”

  “Don’t you dare. That rain felt like heaven.” She plops down across from Keelie and takes up the spare fork on the table. “I just stopped by the library to return some books. I can’t believe I was forced to start my maternity leave early.” She stabs the cobbler as if it had a hand in the decision. “I’m bored stiff at home. All I do is wait for the baby to show up. There are only so many naps I can take, so much binge watching I can do.”

  Keelie grunts, “So much internet shopping to indulge in.” She glances my way. “That wasn’t a complaint.” She moans as she points to the cobbler. “This is some of your best work, Lottie.”

  “I agree.” Lainey gives a furtive nod. “I’ll need the recipe.” She rocks her head from side to side. “On second thought, just send me over any defects you’ve got. I don’t have the energy to bake.”

  “You bet,” I say. “But they won’t be defects. It’s nothing but the best for the two of you.” I take a seat between them and pull open my laptop.

  Keelie tries her best to look over at the screen, but her bulging belly won’t allow for it.

  “What are you looking at, Lot? I bet you’re working on a case.”

  “You would be correct. I’m actually working on two cases.”

  Lainey moans. “You mean to tell me there are two killers running around Honey Hollow? Hear that, Keelie? We picked a fine time to populate the planet.”

  Keelie fills her fork in haste. “With all the homicides taking place, we’ll need all the babies we can have just to keep Honey Hollow well-stocked with citizens.”

  “You mean victims,” Lainey whispers.

  “Okay, stop,” I say it gently to my poor paranoid sister. “Your kids are going to be just fine. And to answer your question, there’s just one killer running around. The second one was apprehended and is currently serving time. His girlfriend has been harassing Everett, so I told her I’d look into his case.”

  “Wow, Lottie,” Keelie points her fork my way, “you should really think of charging. This detective stuff could be a good little side gig for you.”

  Lainey leans in and narrows her hazel eyes over mine. “Speaking of babies, how are you feeling, Lottie? Have you seen the doctor?”

  Keelie sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t believe I forgot all about that. I’m a terrible best friend. All I think about is me, me, me and pie, pie, pie.” She takes a hearty bite as if to punctuate her point.

  “I’m not having a baby, Keelie, and you know it. You faked that test, and both Noah and Everett have been treating me like blown glass ever since. You do realize that was a cruel, cruel thing to do.”

  Lainey shakes her head. “I’m sorry to hear it. I was really looking forward to giving you all my maternity clothes.”

  Keelie ticks her head to the side. “Who are we kidding? I think we’d better save them for her. She’s got two men on the chain. Lottie is playing fast and loose with a lot of things. Her fertility is definitely on the list.”

  “Is not,” I say, but it’s not as convincing as it should be. “Here we go,” I say, looking intently at the article in front of me. “It says here Peter Green was found guilty of robbing the Chicken Hut and sentenced to life by Judge Essex Baxter.”

  Keelie moans through a bite. “That man is harsh when he has to be. I guess it’s his job to lay down the law.”

  Lainey nods. “I bet he knows how to lay down the law in the bedroom, too. You’re really lucky, Lot. When the time comes, and you’re really expecting a baby, you’ll appreciate all of his bedtime ambitions. I’m so hot and bothered all the time, I think Forest is about to call in a pinch hitter.”

  Keelie snorts. “Same. Everett’s not for lease, is he? Asking for a friend.” She twitches her head toward my sister.

&nbs
p; I can’t help but laugh. “No wonder you both needed the rain to cool you off.”

  Lainey leans in. “So what have you got?”

  “It says Peter was convicted because of eyewitnesses who put him at the scene—the other workers who were in the back of the restaurant. No one actually witnessed the shooting, but the security camera has Peter as the only customer in the restaurant. They had DNA evidence from a fork and a cup, but the article only mentions that they tested the fork.” I close my laptop a moment.

  “What is it, Lot?” Keelie leans in. “I recognize that look in your eye.”

  “It’s nothing. It’s just that Brandy, the girlfriend, mentioned that Peter had a sandwich and chili fries.” I shrug. “I mean, if you’re going to have chili fries, you’re probably going to have a drink. It’s just that she didn’t mention it.” I think on it a moment. “I think I’ll ask Noah to help me review the security footage. He’s never denied me once.”

  Lainey gives a husky laugh. “That boy isn’t going to deny you a thing.”

  “Ooh!” Keelie waves her hand my way. “Ask for a platter of tacos from the Spicy Tortilla. I’ve been dying for some decent Mexican food. I’ll even give you one for the effort.”

  I make a face. “I’ll make sure they find their way to you. Right after I text Bear to pick them up. And who knows? Taco time might just lead to sexy time. You’re welcome.”

  Lainey swallows down a bite of cobbler. “You’d better text Forest, too. And then expect a call from me any day now. They say sexy time leads to baby time, and I’m not talking about how we got into this condition in the first place.”

  Meg strides in through the shared walkway that leads into the Honey Pot and stalks on over.

  “Well, if it isn’t three human incubators.”

  “Meg,” I hiss. “You know I’m not incubating anything but anger toward Carlotta for starting this rumor.”

  Meg barks out a laugh. “Enjoy the ride on the baby buggy express while you’ve got it. I hear both your boyfriend and your husband are bending over backward for you.”