Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 8

by Addison Moore

  Everett glances at Noah in the rearview mirror. “No. Not today.” He gives my knee a quick pat. “And don’t worry, Lemon. You can hold onto your secret for now, too, if you like. I know you mentioned you wanted to give it to us over the weekend so we can process it.”

  “For sure.” I sink a little in my seat. The last thing I want to do is ruin their day by sticking a pin in their dreams of having a sweet little newborn in a few short months. “So about this little day trip? Where are the two of you whisking me away to? Honey Lake for a ride on The Lucky Lemon perhaps?” Stepping onto Everett’s yacht, let alone taking a ride on it, feels like a vacation in and of itself. “Or out for a quick bite? Although we just passed up Mangias and Wicked Wok. But I like surprises, too.”

  Noah chuckles from the back. “It’s going to be a surprise, all right, Lot. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  Noah was right. It is a surprise.

  The surprise they had in store?

  Prison.

  The Vermont Men’s Correctional Facility sits on a stretch of flat land just east of Ashford.

  Everett takes up my hand as we head into the behemoth facility.

  “I thought we’d pay a little visit to Peter Green this afternoon,” he says as we stride through a series of checkpoints.

  I suck in a quick breath. “Would you think less of me if I said I was more than excited?”

  Noah barks out a laugh. “You never disappoint, Lottie.”

  “That’s right, Lemon.” Everett nods in agreement. “I figured it was on your list of to-dos. I’m trying to stay ahead of the curve. Believe me, it’s not easy.”

  “It won’t get any better.” I wink his way.

  The three of us are processed and cleared to see just about anyone we please within a twenty-minute window. A surly security guard leads us over to a large bright room that has a cafeteria vibe to it, and sitting in the corner is a man in an orange jumpsuit, with pasty skin, dark red hair, and a quizzical look in his large hazel eyes.

  The air is cool inside and holds the faint scent of bleach and corndogs.

  Peter Green stands to greet us as two security guards begin to mingle behind him.

  “Judge Baxter.” He sheds an affable smile. “I can’t believe it’s really you. What’s this about? Did Brandy finally get through to you?”

  “You could say that,” I muse. “It might have been the water she threw in his face, or the message in lipstick she left on his window, or the flour she doused him with.”

  Everett’s cheek flickers as the four of us take a seat. “It was the talk we had at the coffeehouse. And I’m actually not here to see you, Peter.” He nods my way. “She is.”

  Peter shifts his focus onto me and looks twice as confused as he was before.

  “What gives?”

  “You tell me,” I say. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything.”

  Peter closes his eyes a moment. “To tell you the truth, I’d rather forget it. But why the heck not? I don’t have anything to lose.” He holds a hand out to the prison walls. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “It was late, eleven forty-five, they close at midnight. I ran in after working the late shift at a nearby grocery store. I bought a chicken sandwich and chili fries. As soon as I was done, I hit the restroom. When I came out, the man was dead, sprawled over the counter with a gunshot wound to the chest. Before I knew what was happening, I was sitting in front of this guy.” He nods to Everett. “And he sent me here.” The smile dissipates on his lips. My heart breaks for him, and I’m not sure why. He looks my way. “So what do you think you can do for me that my pricey legal team couldn’t?”

  I think about the scenario he just ran past us. “Peter, did you order a drink that night?”

  “Nope. I bought what I could with the change in my pocket.”

  I glance to Noah and Everett. “I think I have all I need. Noah, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to go over the video footage.”

  We take off and Everett drives us to the Ashford Sheriff’s Department.

  The three of us sit side by side as we review the security footage from that night. It’s black and white, grainy, jumpy, and overall low quality.

  “There he is.” Noah dots Peter with his finger. “He’s walking in, putting in his order. A few minutes go by and he’ll find a seat with his food.”

  We watch patiently as Peter does just that in the final normal moments of his life.

  “He doesn’t have a cup,” I point out. “In the article I read, it said they had DNA evidence from a fork and a cup, but the article only mentions that they tested the fork.”

  Everett nods. “If I remember correctly, they claimed to have done both. The fork was submitted.”

  “How is that possible?” I shake my head. “I mean, clearly it’s not there.”

  Noah shrugs. “The video is awful grainy and blinking in and out. It could still be there. His body could be blocking it. Peter may have forgotten about it.”

  Everett leans toward the laptop. “The cup appears after the shooting. Noah’s probably right. His body is probably hiding it. Peter may have forgotten to mention it.”

  We watch as Peter finishes his food and puts it back into the paper bag they gave it to him in and leaves for the restroom. The film jumps again, this time causing the camera to black out for a second. The next thing we see is Peter heading back to the register, another jump, and then a body lying over the counter.

  “Noah,” I whisper as I back the tape up to the part where Peter is finishing up his meal. “These glitches—how long of a spate of time do you think is going by?”

  He nods to the screen. “I think it was determined to be a two to four second glitch with the blackout being the longest.”

  “What if it’s not?” I rewind it to the blackout, and we watch over and over again until something pops out at me all at once. “Look at the chair,” I say, breathless. “Peter was already in the bathroom. He couldn’t have moved it.”

  One of the seats in the dining room goes from sticking out to tucking in neatly behind the table in the seeming blink of an eye.

  Everett blows out a breath. “The prosecution would have had nothing on you, Lemon.” He nods to Noah. “I think we might have new evidence.”

  “Yes,” I say enthusiastically. “I mean, someone clearly moved that seat. Yes, it could have been an employee, but it could have been the real killer.”

  Noah stares vacantly at the screen. “I guess for that matter it could have been Peter on his way to kill the night manager.”

  The footage plays on, and Everett is right. A cup appears on the floor near the table where Peter was seated, and eventually the sheriff’s department shows up and melee ensues.

  “Noah.” I shake my head as we watch them drag a bewildered Peter out the door of the Chicken Hut. “They said they checked the fork and the cup for DNA. Would you do me a favor and check the cup to see if the DNA matches Peter Green’s?” I look to Everett. “I have a gut feeling it won’t.”

  Everett’s cheek twitches. “Lemon, I’d put money on your gut feeling.”

  We finish up with the Green investigation and Noah and Everett take me across the street for a late lunch at the local steakhouse.

  We’re halfway through our meal when Noah gently lands his hand over mine.

  “Lottie, I know you’re a mother to Evie. But I just want you to know that I think you’re going to make a spectacular mother to this child as well.”

  Everett picks up my left hand, his thumb touching over my wedding ring.

  “Lemon, there are not a lot of things Noah and I agree on, but I do think he’s right about this.”

  My mouth opens to tell them both the truth. It’s not that I’m trying to keep this from them. It’s a terrible secret when you get down to it.

  Noah glances to his watch. “Would you look at that? Two hours have gone by. I’d better run back to the station. I’ve still got a lot to do on the Gannon case.” He points his finger my way. “S
teer clear of this case, Lot. I’m watching you.” He gives a quick wink before nodding to Everett. “See that she stays hydrated and gets home safe.” He leans in and dots a kiss to my cheek. “My mother is actually warming up to the idea of having a grandchild, if you can believe it. I’ll try to catch you later.” He stands. “Everett.”

  “Don’t worry,” Everett calls after him. “I’ll pick up the bill.”

  “I knew you would,” Noah shoots back.

  “He’s funny.” I shrug over at Everett.

  “You’re not steering clear of the Gannon case, are you?”

  “It sounds like you know me.” A sly smile glides up my cheek.

  “Inside and out.” A dry laugh bounces from his chest. “I believe Lily mentioned Jade Archibald is next on your list.” He tips his head my way. “Don’t worry, Lemon. I’m not outing you. I’m here to help.”

  Everett drops a wad of bills onto the table and we take off into the humid, heated evening.

  Everett pulls me close and spins me under the tangerine sky as the sun still hangs high.

  “Lemon,” he whispers it hot into my ear. “I hope this baby you’re carrying is mine.” He pulls back, his blue eyes glinting like shards under the street lamp. “But if it’s not, it makes no difference to me. It’s as good as mine in my heart. I’m in this with you, no matter what.”

  I bite down on my lower lip, and I’m sure Everett thinks I’m biting down on a smile, when in reality, I’m fighting back tears.

  “I know you’re in this with me,” I whisper. “I’m your wife.”

  He closes his eyes and pulls me in tight.

  “Yes, Lemon, you are.”

  Everett is going to help me with this imaginary baby, and I feel as small as an ant.

  I push away all thoughts of my horrible secret—the one I’ll have to reveal to Noah and Everett soon enough—and put my mind back on track to catch Dane Gannon’s killer.

  Jade Archibald is a bit of a mystery herself at the moment, and that’s one mystery Everett and I are about to solve.

  Chapter 12

  It turns out, tracking down Jade Archibald is harder than it sounds. Or more to the point, Everett and I threw in the towel after fifteen minutes and decided to spend the rest of the evening down at Honey Lake on board Everett’s ridiculously extravagant yacht, The Lucky Lemon.

  The Lucky Lemon is a fifty-four foot cruiser yacht with three exquisitely furnished staterooms. It comes with both an indoor and outdoor kitchen, but perhaps the very best feature is the full sundeck to soak in the rays and a six-person hot tub. No one is quite sure why Everett’s boating purchase went in such an extravagant direction, but I’m betting it had something to do with the fact both he and Evie are used to the finer things in life.

  Honey Lake is gleaming like a sapphire today. The sky is a pristine blue, the weather is heated, and the sunbathers have come out in full force. The air is peppered with the scent of fresh hot dogs on the grill and the delighted screams and laughter of those on the beach. Behind the lake, on the north side, sits a row of evergreens and to the left is the beginnings of Main Street.

  Everett and I get settled in the warm bubbling water of the hot tub while the boat remains docked. Everett brought some sparkling cider—no alcohol for the baby, he was quick to point out and break my heart—and a couple of champagne flutes to drink from. I, of course, packed a huge box full of goodies from the bakery before heading this way, filled with cheese Danishes dotted with fresh raspberries, an entire rainbow of macarons, double fudge brownies—which I’ve had an odd hankering for—a couple of pink glazed crullers, peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, s’mores cupcakes, a few fresh baked cinnamon rolls that are still warm to the touch, red velvet whoopie pies, lemon poppy seed muffins, donuts—my God, the donuts—and a handful of my mini peach cobblers.

  “Wow,” Everett muses. “You could feed an army with this.” His lips curve as he pulls me in and I float right into his lap. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

  “Just twice.” I shrug before going in for a kiss. Everett’s kisses are dreamy, steamy, and downright unforgettable, each and every one. “I can’t believe you’ve had the whole day off.”

  “It happens now and again.” His cheek flinches. “And that probably means we should take advantage of it and find Jade before it’s too late. I don’t want you running around without me.”

  “Then we’ll track down Jade later for sure.” I frown as I pull a mini peach cobbler from the pastry box. “Of course, that’s too bad. I had some major plans for the two of us that would start here and end back at my place.” I give a little wink as I feed him a bite of my peach cobbler and Everett moans as if he’s never tasted food before.

  “You know how to tease me.” A dark smile twitches on his lips, his lids hood, and his eyes get that glazed look in them that typically gets the Mr. Sexy train pulling out of the station.

  “Oh, I’m no tease, Judge Baxter. You of all people should know that by now.” A thought hits me. “Hey? You wouldn’t want to shed a deep, dark secret or two, now that we’re all by our lonesome, would you?”

  Everett sighs deeply. “Would you?”

  My mouth opens and closes. Would I?

  “No.” I don’t even really need to think about it. “Not if we’re going suspect hunting—not to mention the fact you need to get a good night’s sleep before you head off for a long day at work tomorrow.”

  He turns his head slightly, keeping those cobalt flames locked over mine. “You mentioned you wanted Noah there as well?”

  “As did you,” I point out.

  “Duly noted. We’ll let sleeping dogs lie until we hit the weekend.” His lips start to hitch their way into his cheeks.

  “Judge Baxter?” I dot his nose with my fingertip. “You look as if you’re just dying to break out into a big ol’ grin.”

  “How can I not when I have a beautiful woman in my lap.”

  My cheeks heat. “You’re making me blush.” I give the scruff on his face a quick scratch. “And I’m not just any woman. I’m your wife.” I hold out that sparkler Everett blessed my finger with last month.

  “My wife,” he says it low, and if I’m not mistaken with a touch of sadness.

  His hand glides over my bare stomach and he closes his eyes a moment.

  “Lemon, I can’t believe we’re about to expand our family. You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

  Okay, that’s it. This entire Carlotta pregnancy ruse has gone on long enough. I’m not sure it’s moral to wait until the weekend. In fact, I know it’s not.

  My mouth opens to tell him the truth just as the boat begins to rock a little more than it should and the sound of footsteps quicken in this direction.

  Carlotta appears with a wide-brimmed hat on her head, wearing a cover-up and holding a floatation device in the shape of a pink flamingo. And hot on her heels is Evie, wearing a metallic one-piece that I’m pretty sure just burned my corneas with its reflection, and holding up the rear are both Noah and his dog Toby.

  “Oh good heavens,” I say as Toby charges over and stops shy of jumping into the hot tub with Everett and me.

  Carlotta dips a foot in, splashing both Everett and me in the face in the process.

  “Water’s great, kids,” she shouts. “Hop on in. I’m going to take up one of these loungers. I brought my e-reader along. Mirandy Lemonade gave me an early copy of her new book coming out this fall and, rumor has it, it’s so hot it makes the surface of the sun feel like an artic glacier.” She takes a moment to inspect Everett’s bare chest. “Woo-wee, speaking of hot stuff, I bet Mr. Sexy’s eight-pack is heating up the hot tub without any other effort.”

  “Hey? What about me?” I tease. “I’ve got on my new red string bikini.”

  Noah strips off his shirt and sinks down across from us in the water.

  “Lottie Lemon”—he gives an approving grin my way—“you are hotter than a brushfire.”

  “Thank you, I think.” />
  Evie tosses a tennis ball to Toby and he catches it in his mouth.

  “I can’t believe you guys came down to the lake without me.” Evie takes a seat on the lip of the hot tub and her long legs dangle in the water. “You do realize I start school in less than three weeks. And don’t worry, Dad. You won’t have to take me back-to-school shopping for new clothes.”

  “Oh, let me!” I’m quick to volunteer my shopping services. “We can hit the Scarlet Sage Boutique, and then we can head across the street to the Busy Bee Crafts Shop and stock up on all sorts of cute notebooks and pens. I’m obsessed with back-to-school supplies. And to be truthful, I still hit up a good sale on office supplies every September.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Evie Stevie.” Carlotta is quick to counter everything I just said. “I’m the one you want to help you spend all your daddy’s money. Ask Lot Lot. I’ve been on her credit card for months. I’m a pro at it.”

  “Who let you on my credit card?” I ask with genuine confusion, but Carlotta covers her face with that large straw hat.

  Evie pulls her hair free from a ponytail and unleashes a dark river of luscious locks on either side of her shoulders.

  “No thanks, Carlotta. I’m not shopping at that boutique. Dash and I ran in a couple of days ago and couldn’t get out fast enough.” Dash was Evie’s first friend in Honey Hollow, and now they’re best friends. And it warms my heart, too. “I’ve already done most of my shopping online,” Evie is quick to tell us. “This is my first year of getting to wear normal clothes to school. It was uniforms twenty-four seven back at Ellington.” She sticks her finger down her throat and pretends to gag at the mention of her former boarding school—and something about hearing her retch leaves me feeling slightly ill. “And I’ve charged it all to your account, Dad, just the way you asked me to.”

  “Thank you, I think.” Everett’s brows knot up my way. “Are you okay, Lemon? You look a little green around the gills.” He pours me glass of sparkling cider, and I quickly down it.