Toxic Apple Turnovers: MURDER IN THE MIX 13

by Moore, Addison

  “Stephen Heartwood?” I glance to Everett. “Then Stephen Gaines is a phony, right? I bet Amanda knew this. I bet this is why she wanted to call the sheriff’s department. What else do you know?”

  “I’m still working on a few things.” Noah stares pensively off in the distance. “Everett, don’t let Lottie out of your sight. I’ll be right back.”

  I gasp as I look up at Everett. “I bet we’ve got our killer. I need to tell my mother. I need to make sure he doesn’t kill my mother next!”

  “He’s not killing your mother.” Everett nods down the hill. “I see her. She’s with Meg. Maybe ask Meg not to leave her side tonight. We’ll leave the rest to Noah.”

  “You’re right.” I quickly pull out my phone and do just that. “Meg said no problem.”

  “Come on. Let’s get the rest of these apple turnovers out of your van.”

  Everett and I do just that. It takes a million trips, but we cover all of the refreshment tables with my apple turnover caramel sauce dippers, and I’ve got Keelie’s cake in there, too, just waiting for eight o’clock when all of our friends and family are going to gather around and shout surprise!

  It’s not anything too fancy, but I know that Keelie and Bear would prefer it this way. Becca has sent out the invitations, and we’ve routed any and all gifts to the B&B so Keelie didn’t stand a chance of running into them. And, I paid Hazel a handsome fee to oversee the decorations and those special details I can’t even think about right now. It’s a relief to know everything is going to turn out perfectly.

  Everett and I finish up our final run and take a breather while watching the hayrides go by.

  A woman with dark hair whipping back and forth screams like a banshee as she holds up a drink.

  “I’m going to take my top off!” she howls.

  I shake my head as the tractor hauling a flatbed stacked with hay cruises on by.

  “Some people can’t hold their liquor. I knew selling appletinis would amount to no good.”

  Everett groans hard. “I think that person in particular shares my genetic makeup.” A blouse goes flying, and Everett shouts for the hayride to stop as he speeds in that direction.

  “Great. A drunk sister. That’s exactly what this night needed.”

  I make my way over to the booth selling hot apple cider, and just as I’m about to get in line, I spot a couple of men laughing. The tall one with the ruddy complexion has something red tucked under his arm, and it looks like he’s concealing a—purse?

  I suck in a quick breath.

  “Hey!” I call out, but not a soul seems to notice. I thread my way through the crowd and come up behind the purse thief, and then I see it.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper. Tracking along the back of his neck is a diamond-patterned snake. The exact pattern that was on the gunman that day in the bank.

  I pull out my phone just as a group of girls glides by, and it falls right out of my hand.

  “No!” I panic as I try to look for it, but a mob streams by. I glance back at the men, and they’re nearly to the parking lot. “God, help me,” I pant as I quickly search for my phone, but I can’t see it anywhere.

  I jog up a few yards and watch as the men head toward the tourist buses. Probably hoping to get more loot.

  Noah went in that direction. I bet he’s nearby.

  Without thinking, I jog on over, and as I do a series of lights explode from the sky. And one by one they arrive: the tabby, the squirrel, Judge Baxter Senior, my sweet dog Dutch, the crankiest bear on the planet, the miniature angelic Chihuahuas, Greer, Macon, Max, Beastie, Cookie, and Owlbert.

  “Nell?” I look around, unsure why she didn’t join the rest of the apparition brigade.

  Greer waves from the front of the buses. “They’re not alone, Lottie! Go get Noah!”

  Beastie jumps right through them before circling around to me. “They’re armed. Turn back, Lottie.”

  “Why are you stopping me? I thought you were here to help me stop them?”

  The ruddy one turns around. The shorter one looks back, and he’s got a familiar face, red hair, pushed-in nose, and wide-set eyes. It’s him, the young man from the Honey Pot who glared at me that night I was at dinner with Everett, my mother, and Pastor Gaines.

  Max zooms forward. “They see you, Lottie. Turn around.”

  “Okay,” I whisper under my breath.

  But it’s too late. The young men turn my way fully, and soon enough they’re headed in this direction.

  Dutch barks at me incessantly, and I do my best to maintain my composure.

  “Excuse me?” the shorter one says, and soon they’re upon me. “We’re from New York. Do you know where we can find a map of this beautiful town?” He points to the bus. “Our driver must have taken off for the festivities.”

  The one with the snake tattoo leans in.

  “Yeah.” He nods to no one in particular. “She’s onto us.”

  And just like that, I’m in his arms, his hand clamped over my mouth as he moves me between the buses.

  Greer comes in close. “Now you’ve done it.” And honestly, I’m not sure if she’s speaking to them or me.

  Beastie roars as ferocious as thunder, jumps on top of the man with the pushed-in nose, and sends him flying abruptly into the wheel well. And then slowly Beastie’s light begins to dim.

  No!

  He’s helped too much. He has to go back. I’m not sure why, but too much assistance in the natural world is a one-way ticket back to paradise, and I bet that’s exactly where that magnificent beast is headed.

  “What the hell?” the one holding me hostage shouts to his disoriented buddy. “Watch where you’re going!”

  That oversized bear ambles up and growls at the man with his arms secured over me.

  I can feel his muscles shudder as he holds me tightly. He stops a moment and looks around.

  “What the heck was that?”

  I bite down over his hand so hard I think I taste blood.

  He howls and pulls back just as Max pins him down. “Run, Lottie! I won’t be able to hold him for long!”

  I take off and glance back in time to see Max fading to nothing.

  His friend growls out a series of salty words as he struggles to get up off the ground and takes off after me.

  I bolt to my right and slam into a body—and all too familiar detective-like, husband-like body.

  “Lottie?”

  “Noah!” I’m about to say something—anything, pull him along with me when his eyes round out.

  “Hold it right there,” a voice calls out from behind, and judging by the way Noah’s hands are rising, I’m willing to bet they brought a gun to the party.

  I turn slowly, and sure enough I spot a tiny Glock with 26 Gen4 printed on the side.

  “That’s Ethel,” I hiss.

  “Who’s Ethel?” Noah asks from the side of his mouth.

  “Never mind.”

  “Both of you, in the bus.” The thug points wildly with the working end of that gun—my gun.

  “You did it, didn’t you?” I say to him as Noah and I slowly back up. “You’re both a part of that gang. You were at the bank that day.”

  “Good eye,” the snake tattoo man pipes up as he pulls out a gun of his own. Perfect. Two idiots with a gun apiece—and I thought a drunk sister was the last thing this night needed. “It’s nice to be recognized by a pretty lady. I bet it’d feel even better to be kissed.”

  “Not happening,” Noah whispers for my ears only.

  “Darn tootin’!” Greer shouts as she dives over the redhead and knocks him to the ground.

  “Crap!” he calls out, and his friend jumps to his feet as Max begins to dissipate.

  The tiny Chihuahuas attack, latching onto the gunman, making him stumble, and that ornery bear knocks him to the ground and takes a seat right over his lap.

  A string of expletives roars from him as his friend heads over to help him up. That gun is still pointed sloppily in our direction, a
nd my adrenaline hikes to unsafe levels.

  “Noah, we only have a few seconds.”

  “Both of you freeze!” Noah shouts so loud I’m sure everyone at the festival has just solidified in their tracks.

  Greer heads over to the redhead and kicks the guns loose out of his hands. And then, just like that, her light begins to dim.

  “Greer!” I shout just as she dissolves to nothing. “No, not Greer,” I whimper.

  The squirrel takes over, picking up the weapon and bringing it my way. He gets just past the two men before evaporating into a plume of celestial dust.

  The man with the pushed-in nose picks it right up again and aims it at us just as Dutch, the ever-faithful Golden Retriever, bounds onto him and wrangles it loose with his mouth.

  “What the hell keeps happening?” the man shouts as his buddy crawls his way over. Dutch begins to fade, and a horrid sound emits from my vocal cords.

  “Dutch! No!”

  He turns my way with those burning coals for eyes and pants. I would bet anything he was smiling at me.

  “Goodbye, Lottie. I love you.” It sounds so precious coming from his deep, husky voice. I want to memorize it and drink it down straight to my bones. I’d give anything to have Dutch with me forever.

  Macon the Macaw appears. “Oh, Ms. Lemon,” he bemoans. “There are no talons stronger than those I possess.” He plucks the gun right out of the man’s hand and lands it in mine before he lets out an egregiously loud squawk.

  The men roll on the ground, their hands fly in the air, but there’s still one gun unaccounted for, mine.

  Cookie bounds up in all his dark, fluffy glory, translucent as he might be.

  The man with the snake tattoo pats the ground under the bus.

  “Cookie, get it!” I howl, but the man comes up victorious.

  He points the gun our way, and an explosive sound detonates into the night. Both Noah and I exchange a glance. Cookie deflects his arm, and the shot shoots straight to heaven—and in a ball of brilliant light, so does Macon.

  Cookie jumps up and goes for the jugular. He clamps his mouth over that tattooed snake, and the gun drops right out of the man’s hand.

  I’m about to lunge that way, and Noah pulls me back. “We don’t need a hostage situation, Lottie.”

  “He’s right,” a gentle, all too familiar voice bleats from behind, and I turn to find Nell walking forward.

  “No,” I cry out. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “Oh, Lottie. You’ll never truly lose me.” She walks right through me, right through the man on the ground, and picks up the gun from under the tire before walking over and laying it in my hand, where it rightfully belongs.

  “Ethel.” My chest bucks as I laugh and cry at the very same time. I wrap my arms around Nell and sob as she dissolves with my tears.

  “Did you see that?” the man with the snake tattoo shouts. “That gun—it just flew!”

  Ivy runs up from behind with her weapon drawn, and soon the deputies are here to take them in.

  “What about the others?” I ask as Noah holds me tightly.

  “I don’t know. I’ll try to make them sing. Get back down there, Lottie. I’ll take care of this and be back as soon as I can.”

  Everett runs up and pulls me in hard, and we watch as Noah takes off.

  That was one heck of a way to start off the night.

  Let’s just hope this night doesn’t hold any more surprises—other than the one I have planned for Keelie and Bear, of course.

  But something tells me it will.

  Chapter 18

  The Apple Festival is well underway.

  The sun has set, the sky is glittering with stars, and the twinkle lights strewn about the Grands’ orchard give the grounds a haunted romantic appeal. Although, I suppose it’s not nearly as haunted as it was a few minutes ago. All of those beasts of days gone by have up and disappeared—and each and every one has taken a piece of my heart with them.

  I am pretty thrilled to be reunited with Ethel, though. I’ve already stuffed her into my purse for safekeeping—after I made sure there were no rounds chambered. I swing Everett’s hand between us as I bat my lashes up at him.

  “I hope with everything in me they find your mother’s ring. You have no idea how bad I feel about that.”

  “Don’t give it a second thought.” He pulls me in and carefully brushes the hair from my forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can take you down to the emergency room and have them give you a once-over. I don’t mind one bit.”

  “Not on your life. Or mine. There’s no place I’d rather be than at the Apple Festival. I love fall, and I love that Honey Hollow gives it the kickoff it deserves. Besides, Keelie’s surprise engagement party is starting soon. There’s no way I can miss that.”

  “I completely understand. But if you change your mind, I’m your man.”

  “You’re always my man.” I hug him hard just as a woman moans out his name—his proper name.

  “Essex,” she calls out again, and we turn to find Meghan sprawled out on a bale of hay so we head over.

  “Feeling better?” Everett helps her sit upright. Meghan’s dark hair is strewn every which way with stray pieces of hay spiking up out of it. Her sweater is on backward and she’s missing a shoe.

  Meghan looks up at me. “I’m doing just fine. Could either of you please get the planet to stop spinning?”

  Everett and I chuckle at the thought.

  “Stay put for a little while longer.” Everett takes up my hand again. “Lottie and I will get you some hot cider.”

  “And a handful of my mini apple turnovers,” I volunteer.

  “Two handfuls, please,” she moans as she plops back down on the hay. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be taking a short nap.”

  She’s snoring before we get five feet in the opposite direction.

  “I’m sorry you have to see this side of my sister.” Everett takes a breath, and a white plume expels from his mouth as if he were a fire-breathing dragon. Everett would make one sexy beast, and he does.

  “Please, she’s just having a good time.”

  “Too good of a time.”

  We step up to the hot apple cider booth, and the line is discouragingly long. A couple walks by, giggling from behind the booth as they head into an orchard marked Jonagold.

  “Hey, look at that,” I say, pointing over to that familiar dark-haired duo ditching into the thicket of dimly lit trees.

  Everett straightens. “Was that Connie?”

  “Yes. Connie Canelli and Chrissy Castaneda. I think they were holding hands.”

  “It sounds as if they’re having a good time, too. You think they hit the appletinis?”

  I make a face. “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.” I pull Everett along until we get to the mouth of the entry, and sure enough we spot them kissing like a couple of teenagers.

  Huh.

  Everett walks us back a few feet out of their line of vision, and far enough away where they won’t hear a thing we’re saying.

  “Looks like Connie has a new man. Good for her. Chrissy seems like a nice guy.”

  “Everett.” I glance around as a thousand thoughts click together in my mind at once, but before I can expound on any of them, Everett’s phone rings.

  “It’s Noah,” he says, picking up and putting it on speaker

  “Everett—is Lottie with you? She’s not picking up.”

  “Yes.” Everett holds the phone out my way.

  “Lottie. Are you okay?” Noah’s voice is tight and anxious. “I just had to check in.”

  “I’m fine. I lost my phone. I’m here with Everett. Did you catch the rest of the thieves? Did you find out anything else on Pastor Gaines?”

  Noah gives a hard sigh from the other end of the line. “It looks like we’re about to close in on the rest of those idiots responsible for the bank heist. These two are singing in hopes for a good deal. As for Pastor Gaines, I don’t know much. A
ll I could figure out is that the pastoral committee that hires for the church didn’t do much digging. They got a few false references and a feel-good interview from the guy. There are a lot of legitimate reasons someone might want to change their name, but considering his line of work—I’m a bit stymied by this one. I wouldn’t worry about it tonight.”

  “Sounds good.” I shrug up at Everett as we say a quick goodbye to Noah. “I don’t want that man anywhere near my mother—at least not dating her or God knows what else. And I’m afraid I know exactly what else.”

  The sound of caustic voices erupts from behind, and Everett and I glance toward the orchard.

  Everett leans in. “Lover’s spat?”

  “I don’t know, but curiosity killed the cat, and I’m pretty sure I’m next. Don’t you think it’s interesting that Connie and Chrissy are together? This must be new. I didn’t get the idea they were together before.” Their voices pick up as their argument grows more heated. “I have to know what they’re saying, Everett.”

  “I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I, Lemon?”

  “Nope.”

  I hustle us back down into the orchard as the sound of their voices carries to the sky.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Connie grunts.

  “We made a deal,” Chrissy snaps back in haste. “I took care of Mark, remember?”

  “You didn’t take care of Mark,” she tosses it back at him in a mocking tone. “You took care of Amanda.” Connie laughs as she says her name.

  My mouth falls open as I look to Everett.

  Oh my God. We have our killer.

  A sparkle of light shimmers up above as Owlbert floats down our way.

  “I heard everything, Lottie,” he purrs as his wings flap wildly in the night. “Arrest them.”

  I shake my head at him. If only it were that simple.

  Everett nods back toward the cider booth, and I shake my head as I pull him in close. We hold our breath, stealing a moment to listen once more.