I read off a few names near the bottom. “Henry Holt. Spencer Brandon.” I shake my head because those names mean nothing to me, until I read a little farther. “Hey, some of these names look familiar. H. Nash? As in Mayor Harry Nash? S. Shumaker? That sounds like it could be that judge Everett was talking about last night at dinner.”
“If it’s true, this is a list of very exclusive clients.”
“Why is this scrawled on some piece of paper?” I ask while taking a few snapshots of it with my phone.
“Maybe it’s a hard copy. Or maybe he’s promised his clients he wouldn’t input it in a computer file that could easily be hijacked.”
“Going old school, huh? I’d say that’s pretty smart, but we’ve clearly outsmarted that clever giant.”
Noah growls as he drops the file back into the desk and pulls me in. “Do you realize the things that man wanted to do to you?”
Those green eyes of his cast their spell on me. His strong arms, that seductive cologne, I can hardly take another minute of it.
I bite down over my lip. “I think we have some time before we need to vacate the premises. Maybe you can show me?”
A villainous laugh vibrates through his chest. “Honey, what I’m about to show you is going to make you blush from head to toe.”
“Ooh, maybe I’ll learn a few moves to take home with me and use on my boyfriend.”
His brows flex until they meet in the middle. “He sounds incredibly boring.”
“I don’t know about that. The things he can do with his mouth set the bar pretty high.”
“Then I guess I’d better bring it.”
Noah strips off his clothes and mine in record time, and before I know it, I’m pressed against the bookshelf, bracing myself on an old set of Encyclopædia Britannica, leather editions, and I’m pretty sure I’m using a book of Shakespeare’s completed works as a footstool. Trust me when I say there is nothing hotter than a tryst among the stacks. Noah brings explosive passion of literary proportions, and after sending me to the ceiling with his earthshattering frosting technique, he’s finishing it off with an aggressive shelf-slamming crescendo, and I don’t even mind the fact Dutch is barking up a storm as if I were being attacked.
“That’s enough, Lot,” Noah grunts while keeping the room rioting around us.
“What’s enough?” Not to sound like a sloth, but I’m not contributing much to the situation.
“Whatever it is you’re doing to my ankle,” he pants into my ear.
I glance down and spot Dutch’s mouth firmly attached to Noah’s leg, and a scream gets lodged in my throat.
Dutch shakes his head as if he’s about to remove an entire limb, and Noah hops backward, shouting and shaking his leg as if he were being attacked and, my God, he is!
“Dutch!” I scream at the top of my lungs before snatching a book off the shelf and doing my best to swat him over the head with it. “Down, boy! Down!” I shout so loud my vocal cords burn from the effort.
Dutch releases his death grip on Noah, and I see pricklings of blood in his wake.
“Oh my God,” I hiss.
“Lottie?” Noah takes the book from me, but I’m too busy watching Dutch jump onto the desk and topple the candles right into the opened drawer with those heavily coveted files, that loose leaf list that has the power to upturn so many lives, and the desk goes up in flames as if it were coated with gasoline.
“Shit!” Noah jumps over with a throw blanket in his hand, swatting down the flames as if our lives depend on it, and judging by the smoke filling up the room, they sort of do. Noah slams the desk shut and begins tossing my clothes at me as we do our best to hold our breath and put ourselves together. In less than ten seconds we’re on the other side of that door, the lights have all been lowered in the rest of the house, creating a hellish appeal. Noah and I make our way to the exit with Dutch and his fiery red eyes leading the way.
We step out into the cool night, and Noah wraps his arms around me. “What the heck just happened, Lottie?”
“I—um”—another couple steps out, and it’s Everett and Ivy. His hair is mussed, and her blouse is buttoned catawampus—“oh gross.”
“Fox.” Everett nods as he heads down the stairs. “I’ll be in the car, Lemon.”
Noah glares over at his old stepbrother. “I need to take Ivy back to Ashford and do a write-up.” He glances back at the house.
“Fine.” I shoot her a look as she tries her best to step into her stiletto properly.
Noah leans into me. “You mind if I head your way later?”
“You better.” I pull him in by his crooked tie. “I need a man who finishes what he starts.”
“Lucky for you, I feel like starting all over again.” He pulls away, his eyes set on mine, rife with suspicion. “What were you doing back there? You said that word again.” His voice grows quiet. “Dutch.” His shoulders pump with defeat. “This has to do with that thing, doesn’t it?”
My mouth opens, and I can’t bring myself to say anything useful. “I’m sorry.”
“Something bit me. Something knocked that candle over.” His eyes search mine. “You were swatting at thin air.” His Adam’s apple rises and falls. “But I said I wouldn’t push you with this, and I won’t.” He dots my lips with a kiss before taking a step back. “I want you to tell Everett.”
“What?”
“Whatever happened in that room, he should know about it. He’s privy to your secret, Lottie. And judging by that look of fear in your eyes back there, I’m guessing it would be nice to have someone to talk to.” His lips curve into a sorrowful smile. “Maybe one day, when you’re ready, it can be me.”
He catches up to Ivy, and I make my way to Everett’s waiting car.
The ornery judge tweaks his brows at me. “Did you get your cookies frosted, sweetie?”
I duck my face in my hands a moment. “Please don’t use that euphemism with me again. But feel free to tell me who clued you in on it so I can kill them with my own bare hands.”
“Noah.”
A deep groan comes from me. “I guess you had fun with Ivy. It looks as if the only investigating she did was in your pants.”
He winces as we pull out onto the road, no sign of Noah and his faux paramour.
“We had to make it look believable. Listen, the only thing we did—”
“I don’t want to know about it. Dutch did something tonight.”
A deep whine comes from the back seat, and I glance over my shoulder at the guilty party before spilling every razor-toothed, fiery detail.
“Lemon”—Everett’s hands readjust their grip on the wheel—“that beast drew blood.” Dutch barks as if his actions were justified. “He started a fire.”
“He thought I was being attacked. And to make it worse, Noah asked me to fill you in on all the fun details. He knew it had to do with my secret. I’ve shouted that poor dog’s name one too many times.”
For a second I thought Everett might gloat over the fact Noah asked me to speak with him, but he gives a depleted sigh instead.
“Do you think I should tell him my secret?” My voice trembles just voicing the horrible idea.
“No.” Everett tips his head as he looks past the windshield into the foggy night. “In fact, I have a feeling Noah Fox has a few secrets of his own.”
Chapter 48
The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery can hardly keep up with the demand on this snowy afternoon. An entire tour bus stopped off at the foot of the bakery and unleashed all unholy heck on the establishment just after three. And it’s not until the very last well-bundled, well-stocked up on red velvet cupcakes visitor climbs back onto that bus do I drop my elbows to the counter alongside Lily as we take a breather.
“What in the heck was that all about?” I bemoan just as my mother traipses through the door with an ear-to-ear devilish grin. “Why do I get the feeling I’d rather have another busload of cupcake hungry sightseers from Nova Scotia than be let in on whatever it is that
has you grinning like that?”
My mother is quick to wave me off. “I sent them over. They were my first official Haunted Honey Hollow Bed and Breakfast tour, and I thought I’d share the spooktacular wealth.” She wiggles her fingers when she says spooktacular.
“What?” I straighten in horror. “Please tell me you did not bilk those people out of sixty dollars a pop. I’ve heard rumors.”
“That was a trial run. I got a cool eighty.” She shimmies her shoulders with pride. “For that number, I let them walk around freely in my boudoir. And, believe you me, they asked naughty questions about the cracked headboard.” She gives a sly wink.
“Mother! You don’t know what kind of people those are.”
“Hungry,” Lily answers for her as she gets to helping another group of customers that just walked in.
“Oh, it’s a great financial move on my part. In fact, I can’t take credit for it. My new boarder, Nicole Brand, came up with it. She’s a treasure trove of great advice. Apparently, her ex-husband was a higher-up in a Fortune 500.” She sighs. “Poor thing, lost her husband to divorce, and her daughter won’t have anything to do with her. I just can’t imagine.”
“Still no luck, huh?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” She bites her lips a moment before gasping. “I almost forgot. Great news!” My mother taps her red glittery nails over the counter. “I’m ordering six dozen of your red velvet cupcakes for the comedy night club soirée I’m hosting.”
“The comedy what?” Honestly, after that whole I’m-letting-people-roam-my-underwear-drawer-freely spiel, and now something about a nightclub, I’m thinking I should have her head X-rayed for fractures. Good ol’ perverted Mr. Rutherford has potentially cracked my mother’s headboard and her skull.
“It’s a night of stand-up comedy I’m hosting at the B&B later this month. I just felt so bad things fell to pieces at the Hearts of Hope Charity Ball. No one even got to bid on all the great prizes. And since it was in your father’s name, I thought I’d host at my place and see if we can get those items sold to the highest bidder. I’d love nothing more than to give the cardiac unit a big fat check. The stage is open to any and every budding comedian, so please spread the word. We still need plenty of acts to fill the night.”
“I’ll gladly spread the word.” A thought comes to me. “In fact, I’ll start spreading it in just a few minutes.” I lean in. “Hey, has Brad ever mentioned anything about something called the Elite Entourage?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not seeing Brad anymore.”
“What?” Something loosens in me, and suddenly I’m lighter than air. “That’s great! I mean, how interesting.” If I said it was terrible, that would just be a lie and I still can’t seem to fib right to my mother’s face. “Can I ask what happened?”
She gives the door the side-eye. “Carlotta Sawyer happened.”
I gasp. “She stole your boyfriend right from under you? I knew she couldn’t be trusted.”
Mom belts out a laugh. “Heavens no.” She lifts a finger as a look of confusion sweeps across her face. “Actually, come to think of it, yes. That’s exactly what happened. But anyhoo, I’m quite over it. I’m going out to dinner with Rich Dallas, one of the male volunteers from the hospital.” She purrs as she says his name, and that alone makes me wary.
My mother began volunteering last month after losing one of her best friends. We were investigating the head volunteer down at Honey Hollow General, and she happened to mention the fact they were rife with widowers and divorcees who lived off their investments. Suffice it to say, my mother’s ears perked up.
“Huh. Well, good for you.” I glance back at the kitchen to find Dutch climbing up onto the counter. And to think I thought he’d be bad luck. Getting Brad Rutherford out of my mother’s life is the biggest stroke of luck a girl can get. “I can’t wait to meet this new man in your life.”
“Oh, you will. We’ve already gone to dinner last night and breakfast this morning, and he wants me to head over to his place right now and help organize his kitchen.” Her phone buzzes in her hand. “Bup, bup, bup! That’s him. He likes a twenty-minute check-in and gets a little feisty if I miss it.” She giggles as she shoots a quick text.
“Mom, a twenty-minute check-in? Doesn’t that sound a little controlling to you?”
“Oh, goodness no. It’s adorable is what it is. Can I get a few of those red velvet cupcakes? They are honestly to die for.” She cinches her purse over her shoulder as I hand her a box of goodies to go. “You know, Eve Hollister, rest her soul, mentioned the Elite Entourage once. She said her daughter was a manager there or something to that effect. Ta-ta!” She takes off to organize Rich Dallas’ kitchen, and I can’t help but frown. Why do I get the feeling I’m going to miss Brad Rutherford?
Daphne Hollister. I make a face out the window into the snow day. I knew that she’s been working with the Elite Entourage from my previous investigation. And I just so happened to promise Noah that I wouldn’t investigate them. But what if I happened to be at the courthouse visiting Everett? And I happened to bump into Daphne? And ask her about her thoughts on Greer’s death?
I’m sold. I box up a dozen red velvet cupcakes, ask Lily to man the fort—and hi-ho-hi-ho it’s off to Ashford I go.
* * *
The Ashford County Courthouse looms like a harbinger against a dove gray sky. I’ve only been here on a couple of occasions, and each time just the sight of this place ties my stomach up in knots. I take a deep breath and get straight to work. Inside, it’s a marbled palace with stone walls and doors that look like oversized Hershey’s bars.
Dutch and I head straight to the front desk and open my box of goodies before the secretary has a chance to say a single word, and as quick as lightning I’ve got an all-access pass to the inner workings of this place. I didn’t need to ask where Daphne’s office is. I was just here with Keelie last month, and we shook her down to see if she was in any way involved with her own mother’s murder, a horrifying prospect for anyone. But the sad truth is, not one of Eve Hollister’s children had an affinity for her so the possibility was very real.
“Daphne!” I say, pleasantly surprised to see her hovering over her cubicle-like desk. Her auburn hair is pulled back tight into a ballerina bun, her eyes perfectly outlined with kohl, and little winged tips decorate her upper lid, but the rest of her face is demurely powdered down with a nude palate. She has on a navy power suit, and I recognize that broach on her lapel as one that Eve used to wear. Dutch is making a sport of jumping over her cluttered desk, and I try not to let it distract me, but I must admit, his clearance is impressive. “I was just meeting up with a friend. Are you up for a cupcake?”
“Need you ask?” She offers an affable smile. “Yes, please,” she says as she continues to rifle madly through the files in front of her. “I’ve got three hearings today, and I seem to have misplaced a vital piece of evidence. Something that would never have happened if I didn’t have to spend the morning trying to detangle my mother’s ridiculous will.”
Dutch whines as if he were equally responsible. He’s so cute and cuddly I doubt a single person could find fault with him.
The Hollister children didn’t like the idea of their mother leaving most of her money to aid abused animals and decided to fight it. Much like the way William Sawyer didn’t like the fact his mother left me the lion’s share of her earthly treasures and he’s vowed to dismantle that piece of crap and send me home a hungry beggar. His words, not mine, as relayed to me per Keelie last night.
I peel back the lid on the box and Daphne dives right in, shoving a cupcake into her mouth so quick you would think she were a hungry beggar.
She moans. “This is just what I needed. My God, how do you get the cupcake so soft?”
“I actually tweaked the recipe a bit and used a chiffon cake. It gives it a light and airy bounce, and I’m still able to get the rich chocolate flavor into the batter. I used an extra splash of vanilla in the cream cheese frost
ing as well.”
She groans as she takes another bite. “I’ve never tasted anything as decadent in my entire life. A friend of mine is getting married soon. I will definitely recommend your bakery.”
“That would be great. I really appreciate it. In fact, if you ever tie the knot, it would be an honor to do your wedding as well.”
She averts her eyes. “I don’t see that happening for a very long time. I’m quite content mixing things up in the male department, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I do. I feel the same. Say, have you ever heard of a dating service called the Elite Entourage?” I figure I need to at least mention it before I ask about Greer’s position there. I don’t see how Noah could fault me for that.
Her eyes stretch wide. “My goodness, Lottie Lemon, are you interested in becoming a consort?” She takes another hasty bite and swallows it down, and Dutch barks and riots as if protesting the idea. “You know, I wouldn’t normally do this, but since you’ve all but saved my sanity with this amazing cupcake, I’ll set up an interview for you with Cici.” She whips out her phone and taps away on the screen.
“Cici?” My antennae go straight up. That was one of the names Greer spouted off to Tinsley during that argument they had the night she died.
“I just let her know I’m recommending you to the agency.” She gets right back to pecking at her phone. “She can meet with you tomorrow at two, the spa at the Evergreen Manor. Can you make it?”
“The Evergreen?” It’s no wonder Naomi got herself wrapped up in this. They’re using the Evergreen as mission control. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Great.” She plucks another cupcake from the box and scoops up her briefcase. “You’re all set.” She takes off and leaves me in her wake.
“I’m all set.” I’m not investigating the Elite Entourage. I’m auditioning to be a consort. Noah will totally support the effort in some alternative universe where humans are yet to tread.
Murder in the Mix (Books 4-6) Page 36
