Murder in the Mix (Books 4-6)

by Moore, Addison

I don’t see a single thing that can go wrong with this.

  Dutch whimpers as we head down the hall, and for once I wouldn’t mind not hearing the dead again.

  I’m pretty sure I don’t need Dutch bringing me any bad luck.

  I’m talented enough to make my own.

  I’m going to be a consort.

  My mother will be so proud.

  Chapter 49

  “Lemon?”

  I stop cold, that pink box of red velvet cupcakes snug to my chest. There is no possible way on this planet Judge Essex Everett Baxter will wrangle the fact I’m about to audition to be a consort for the Elite Entourage out of me. There is simply no possible way. Dutch whines and growls as if contesting my line of thinking.

  I spin on my heels and offer a bright smile to the stunningly handsome man before me.

  “Cupcake?” I pull back the lid, and he glowers at me a moment.

  “Please tell me you didn’t just volunteer your services to that prostitution ring you’re investigating.”

  I suck in a quick breath and hiss at him. I’d swat him, but my arms are full at the moment, so I do the only thing I can, drop the cupcakes off at the front desk and yank the surly judge aside, accidentally pushing my fantastic phantasm of a pooch right through the window.

  “Are you insane shouting out wild accusations like that in a courthouse? And it’s not a prostitution ring. This is a dating app, pure and simple.”

  “I’ll be damned. You did it.”

  I wince. “No, but I have an interview tomorrow at two.”

  Everett takes a deep breath, the jacket of his expensive suit expanding with it. “Can I buy you coffee?”

  As soon as I agree, Everett shuttles us next door to the coffee shop and we each order a latte. The barista generously marks his cup up with the words Mr. Sexy, and Everett gave my name as Lemon.

  We sit knee to knee at a small table near the window with Everett staring me down as if I just knocked over a liquor store. I pulled up a seat for Dutch, and he sits as tall as Everett in it, looking from the angry legal referee to me as if a war were about to erupt. If I were Everett, I’d watch my spare appendages. Dutch drew blood with Noah.

  I twist my lips at the ornery judge before me. “Why do I feel as if I’m about to endure a lecture?”

  Everett presses out a flat smile. “If you feel you’ll have to endure it, then might I suggest you alter your perspective?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  His brows pinch together. “Look, you’re a grown woman with a very strong will of her own. I’ve known you for a number of months and feel safe saying that once you get your mind to something, there’s no stopping you.” His fingers thump along the table. “A great attribute that will pull you forward in just about any career, with the exception of being an amateur sleuth.”

  “Who are you calling an amateur?” I squawk so loud half the patrons snarl at me for disrupting their java-scented serenity. “I solved five homicide investigations in under five months. I’d say I’m five over the Ashford homicide division.”

  “And if this keeps up, you may not live to see six.”

  A breath hitches in my throat. “Are you putting a hex on me?”

  “I don’t believe in hexes.” He cocks his head to the side. “Do you know what I believe in? Very real bullets from a very real gun that could affect whether or not you or I live to see another day. You are playing with fire. Does Noah realize you’re auditioning to be a lady of the night?”

  My mouth falls open as I lean in hard. “Do you mind? And no, he does not. Why on earth would I tell Noah?”

  Now it’s his mouth falling open. “I don’t know, Lemon. Let’s see. Perhaps because he’s in charge of handling the investigation?”

  “That’s exactly why I’m not telling him. I have to protect him.”

  “From what?”

  “From my investigation. I’d hate to think I was muddying up the waters.”

  A dark laugh rattles his chest, but he’s too stubborn to give it. “You’re muddying them, all right. In fact, some might argue you’re turning them into concrete. The reason the Ashford Homicide Division is incapable of solving a single case is because you keep injecting yourself into it. And, might I add, you come close to death each and every time.”

  “Well, I’m not coming close to death this time. In fact, if you want to get down to brass tacks, I’m having a facial at the Evergreen. And if per chance, while I’m exfoliating with the best of them, I happen to meet the woman who heads up the Elite Entourage, it will be a wild coincidence.” I bear hard into those cobalt blue eyes of his. “And, knowing me, I may bring up the latest homicide in Honey Hollow. You do realize it’s sort of an anomaly.”

  “Not anymore.”

  Dutch bucks as he gets out of his seat, and the metal chair scrapes against the floor.

  Everett’s eyes flit over. “Lemon?”

  “I think his powers are growing.”

  “Whose powers?”

  “Dutch.”

  “He’s here?” Everett takes in the establishment as if the Grim Reaper himself just walked in sprinkling the plague into everyone’s coffee.

  “Yes, he’s here. He’s practically always with me. Anyway, first he bit Noah’s leg, and now he moved the chair.”

  “Okay.” His eyes expand like silver dollars. “Let’s come at this rationally. He bit Noah because he thought he was trying to shove you through a bookcase.”

  My cheeks heat hotter than the sun. “Correct.”

  “And just now, prior to his moving the furniture, you insisted the murders taking place in Honey Hollow were an anomaly, and I insisted they weren’t. That’s when the chair moved.” He nods as if I should understand where this is heading.

  “I think Dutch wishes you would side with me. He senses I’m being attacked, and if I were you, I’d wear boots,” I hiss it out like the threat it is. “And by the way, I’m very upset with you.” The words leave my mouth without my permission. “You slept with Ivy.” My chest bucks with grief, and I feel completely silly.

  “You slept with Noah.” His lips curve dangerously close to a smile, and I don’t have a rebuttal. “And just for your information, I did no such thing with Detective Fairbanks. I did not sleep with Ivy.” His affect softens as he bears into me.

  “You’re just being literal.”

  “No. I’m being honest.” He crosses his heart like a schoolboy, and something about that action melts me.

  “Fine. I believe you.” I pump my shoulders. “I’m sorry about the inquisition. It was childish of me to ask to begin with.”

  He moans as if he were pondering it. “Swingers and hookers. What exactly about those two words has you running into this situation?”

  “Greer Giles.”

  Everett scoots the stack of napkins between us my way as if he were folding, and we head out for Honey Hollow without another word.

  * * *

  The next day the sky is dark, the air is frosty, and the Evergreen Manor is every bit the colonial wonder with a sprinkling of fresh fallen snow on its rooftop. I head on in alone. Dutch took one look at the powdered sugar drifting from the sky and opted to sit this one out with Pancake and Waffles.

  Naomi is the first to greet me with a scowl on her face, her lips twisted in a knot, eyes practically crossing, then in an instant her features smooth over, and she smirks this way as if she means it.

  “How did you like the co-op?”

  It figures. The only time I squeeze a smile out of her is when she thinks she’s bested me.

  “It was fantastic, if you must know.” I make a face at my feisty newfound cousin. “How are they turning a buck?”

  “First time is free. After that, there’s a steep price to pay. I wouldn’t venture any further unless you plan on forking over that pittance you earn at the bakery.” Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Besides, you don’t need the co-op. You already have two men to ping-pong back and forth with.”

  “Not true.”


  “True. You’re just too dense to realize it.”

  I head back to the spa, change into the requisite robe, and sip on my complimentary mimosa, easy on the champs. Those bubbles really do go straight to my head.

  I let the teenager in charge know I’m meeting with someone at two, and she leads me straight to the back room.

  “You must be the third party.” She gives a knowing nod. “They’ve already started without you, but I’ll apply your mask and the three of you can relax all you want.”

  “Three of you?” No sooner does the door open up than a couple seated in a pair of massage chairs catches my eye. I recognize that dark head of hair, that familiar muscular frame as he chortles away with the tawdry tart.

  “Why Evan,” I say, startling the judge from his faux jovial state. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  He clears his throat, and those piercing blue eyes siren out against the thick clay mask the color of butterscotch frosting smeared over his face.

  “Lola. I was just chitchatting with Cici.”

  The woman by his side offers a flirtatious giggle as she looks to the deceptive judge. “I’m from the Elite Agency. So good to meet you. Both Daphne and your fiancé have nothing but nice things to say about you. I think Daphne referred to you as Lottie, though.” Her hair is jet-black, and her eyes are the color of a sunless sky. Her face is slathered with a green seaweed wrap, and it gives her a monstrous appeal.

  “Silly nickname, I prefer my formal moniker”—I take a deep breath as I glower at the man by my side—“Lola.”

  A woman from the spa comes over and sits me in the chair next to Everett’s. This is panning out to be quite the nightmare. I should be the one next to Cici garnering all the sensitive information I can. And why exactly is he interjecting himself into my investigation? I am so not amused.

  I opt for the ocean wrap like Cici, and soon enough my face has enough seaweed on it to furnish a sushi restaurant nicely. The woman leaves the room, and just before the door closes with a hiss, Dutch bounds in. My lips naturally curve when I see him, but as soon as I spot almost fifty paws making their way over in his wake, every muscle in my body freezes solid. I happen to know these tiny celestial creatures have quite the bite to them. My eyes drift to Cici’s bare feet. Her pretty pink toenails are at just the right height to get nipped into oblivion, and I wince at what might happen next.

  “So Cici”—I decide it’s best to speed this along—“I was interested in…”

  “A couples’ outing.” She nods as she looks to Everett. “No need to be embarrassed. I must have misunderstood Daphne’s message. For a second I thought you were interested in becoming a consort!” She snorts with laughter as if it were the most outlandish thing in the world, and Everett bleeds a slow smile my way.

  “Very funny,” I say to my not-so-funny fiancé. “It’s a shame about that—”

  Everett coughs so loud I’m half-afraid he just hacked up a lung. Dutch leaps over and lands on Everett’s chest, his furry forehead wrinkled in distress.

  “Geez.” Everett leans over and rolls Dutch right off, and the miniature minions prattling about nearly get pulverized, not that it were possible, but they sure ran like it was.

  “Easy on the mimosas,” Cici warns. “They have a tendency to hit you when you least expect it.”

  “I’ll say.” Everett shakes his head my way as if warning me not to say another word.

  “But—” I’m about to protest when he lifts a finger, and I bite my lips for the next fifteen minutes. Soon enough, our faces are scrubbed raw, and we’re free to enjoy the rest of the facility.

  “I have to run.” Cici gets up, and I note a thick scar that runs the length of her left cheek and it jars me. I have no idea how she landed that, but it does drive home the point that she’s in a dangerous profession. “Evan says tomorrow at seven works for the two of you. Is the Evergreen convenient?”

  “No,” we both shout in unison, and those dearly departed cuties at our feet begin to chime in, too.

  She nods. “We like to use the Star Light Motel in Leeds. It seems to be the best fit for our clientele in general. You’ll just adore the consort I’m pairing you with. She did doubles for so long with the girl we just tragically lost.” She glances to Everett while fanning her face as if holding back her emotions. “It will be two thousand dollars, and the bellman takes the tip.” Her eyes track from Everett’s to mine. “The Star Light has notoriously generous patrons.” A laugh thunders in her chest as she leaves the room, and every specter in the vicinity with a set of oddly functioning vocal cords barks up a riot after her.

  “They don’t like her,” I hiss as I lean in toward Everett.

  “Who are they?”

  I point to the ground before glowering at him. “Start talking and make it fast. I am not a happy camper.”

  “I wasn’t about to let you get yourself in a potentially deadly, might I add, sexual situation. Did you see that scar on her face? She let me know a client gave it to her as a parting tip. And she laughed while she said it. She also happened to bring up Greer on her own, so I thought if you brought her up too it might send up a red flag. We want it to be organic, and it was.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she didn’t know her that well, but she had a bad feeling about that one. Her words. She mentioned something about knowing when someone was trying to branch out on their own.”

  “Makes sense. Greer was stealing clients.”

  “She also seemed coldly indifferent. I’ve seen my fair share of people with blood on their hands, and you can take my word for it. She’s not one of them.”

  “That’s because she most likely hires someone to do her dirty work.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes skirting the room as if reflecting on their conversation. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why did you do this? You’re putting your career on the line, and I don’t like it.”

  “You’re putting your life on the line, and I don’t like it.”

  “You’re really going to meet me in Leeds tomorrow night? What is it that you’ve signed us up for, honey? Another’s couples’ massage?”

  His lids hood, and his lips flicker. “Cici suggested we try the fantasy trio, and I accepted.”

  “What?” My voice shrills to the ceiling. “How did we go from infiltrating the Elite Entourage to making all of your girl-on-girl fantasies come true? And you better believe it’s not going to happen.”

  He smacks his lips my way. “You heard her. Cici didn’t know Greer from Adam, but I’m betting the other girls did. You’ll get all the info you want tomorrow night. And I promise you, I’m not letting that call girl near you.”

  “Very well. And I promise you, I’m not letting that call girl near you either.”

  The petite pooches bark themselves into a frenzy, and I wish there was a way to channel their energy into finding out who killed Greer Giles. I have a feeling Noah would not be too thrilled with the prospect of me meeting with his ex-stepbrother in a motel in Leeds tomorrow night.

  Who am I kidding?

  Not one thing I’ve done lately would thrill Noah.

  And then a thought comes to me—and I go with it.

  Chapter 50

  “Knock, knock!” I say playfully as I pound on Noah’s door with my foot. After I left the Evergreen, I stopped by Mangia and picked up a pizza, his favorite, pepperoni with extra cheese.

  The door swings open, and a dripping wet Noah Corbin Fox stands on the other end with nothing but a towel cinched around his waist. His abs are chiseled, his dimples dart with pleasure, and that daring look in his eyes lets me know he’s not opposed to dropping that towel.

  “You started the party without me,” I say, thrusting the pizza his way, and the towel hits the floor with a thump. Knew it.

  Before I realize it, I’m inside, the door is sealed shut, and I’m pressed against it while Noah Fox lands one dizzying kiss onto me after the next. In a blur, I’m in the
shower as a wet and wild adventure ensues. Noah lathers me right up into the stratosphere, and I am so very impressed with his amphibious moves. We end the aerobic session wrapped in a blanket by the fire, and I’m still trying to catch my breath.

  “I take it you’re not hungry?” I tease as I land a quick peck to his cheek.

  “I just indulged in the exact meal I’ve been craving all day. How about pizza for dessert?” He gives a sly wink.

  “Or breakfast.” I pull him in close as the fire flickers behind us, turning his skin brilliant shades of tangerine. “Any break in the case?” I refrain from adding so I don’t have to have a threesome with your ex-stepbrother tomorrow night.

  His features darken, and I steal a moment to run my fingers through his facial scruff that I love so much.

  “No break. But we’re very, very close. And I mean that. I’ve got this handled. So there’s no need to involve yourself. In fact, I suspect we’ll have it buttoned up in a matter of weeks.”

  “A couple of weeks. You’re that confident?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “So, can I ask who the number one suspect is? I mean, it’s obviously not me—so who could it be?”

  A deep laugh resonates in his chest. “Detective Fairbanks thinks you might be a very clever serial killer.”

  “I’d watch my back if I were her. Hey, did you ever find that silver hoop earring?”

  “No.” He hitches my hair behind my ear. “It might have been the light glinting off the ring of blood coming from her that you saw. Or, if it was there, it tipped over and was buried in the snow. I don’t have an answer to that. But as for a suspect, we’ve got a few in the running.”

  “Tiger?”

  He gives a reluctant nod. “He’s one.”

  “Greer brought in the clientele, and now that she’s gone, he doesn’t have to share proceeds. What about the people at the Elite Entourage? I mean, they could have found out she was siphoning clients and wanted to put a permanent end to it.”

  He tips his head to the side, his lips twisting with frustration. “True.”