Pecan Pie Predicament

by Addison Moore

  Meg is one year younger than me, dyes her blonde locks black, and wears copious amounts of eyeliner, which looks stunning juxtaposed against her icy blue eyes. Fun fact: She used to be a part of the female wrestling circuit down in Las Vegas. But she’s moved back to Honey Hollow, and now she works at both the Honey Pot Diner and at some sleazy gentleman’s club out in Leeds. She doesn’t actually do the dancing. She simply teaches the girls their moneymaking moves.

  We have one other sibling, another sister, Lainey, who is one year older than me, but she’s pretty much allergic to crowds now that she had her sweet baby girl, Josie, this past summer. Can’t say I blame her. I sort of want to bubble wrap Josie from this world myself.

  Meg nods my way. “So, how did you do in the poor soul this time, Lot?”

  “Would you hush?” I give a quick glance around. “I am not a killer.”

  “Hey, I didn’t use the word killer, you did.” She gives a quick wink. “I bet it was poison, seeing this is a food festival and all. You know, in keeping with the theme.”

  My body goes rigid, and I’m suddenly moved to murder someone, all right.

  “Stop it,” I hiss.

  Lily trots over. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense. Which dessert was at the scene of the crime?”

  It might be a well-established pattern that one of my desserts has been present at the rash of homicides our small town seems to be having.

  Everett leans in. “Pecan pie.”

  Lily gives a knowing nod. “Thank you, Essex. I’ll get right to amping up production before that morbid food tour starts up again.”

  I cringe just thinking about it. That, too, is true. My mother happens to run a haunted bed and breakfast and gives tours of the place to the tune of eighty bucks a pop. And once she’s through with the tourists, she sends them over to my bakery for what she’s dubbed as The Last Thing They Ate Tour. Morbid, I know.

  Lily takes off for our booth, and Meg takes off for hers.

  Everett and I are about to dive into that Thanksgiving sampler plate when Carlotta races over with a goofy grin on her face that typically spells out trouble.

  “Guess what, Lot? I’ve got me a brand new sparkly boy toy. Have you seen him? Have you? Have you?”

  Everett stops short of shoveling a big bite of turkey into his mouth and looks my way. “She’s not talking about a living, breathing being, is she?”

  I cock my head toward my kooky bio mother. “Well?” I ask her.

  Carlotta gives a cheeky wink. “Not a ghost of a chance.”

  Chapter 4

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is bustling on this, the very next day after Hannah Beckham was found murdered in the Swift Cycle Gym across the street.

  My entire bakery is decorated for fall with lots of autumn-colored leaves strung up along the walls and counters, and there are plenty of pumpkins and cornucopia displays set out on the tables. I’ve even put a giant wreath comprised of orange and fiery red maple leaves over the entry door. Everything feels snug and cozy, and yet none of it seems able to pull me out of my funk.

  “I still can’t believe it,” I say to both Noah and Everett, who happen to be seated at the counter, noshing on the last two slices of my pecan pie. Believe it or not, despite the fact we tripled production, we sold out about five minutes ago and it’s not even noon.

  Carlotta and Evie are here as well, chatting about Evie’s double-trouble love life while Carlotta doles out questionable advice. Evie is dolled up to the nines today and looks less sixteen and more twenty-six.

  It’s Sunday, church just wrapped up, and when I said I needed to make a beeline to the bakery right afterwards, the rest of them offered to join me. And I’ve been filling their bellies with sweet treats ever since.

  “Believe it, Lemon.” Everett nods. “And we don’t need to wait for forensics to come back. We know that woman was murdered in cold blood.”

  Evie gasps. “How do you know? I mean, Uncle Noah told me this morning that we wouldn’t know for sure until they did a complete panel on her. Unless, of course…” Her mouth falls open, and there’s a distinct look of glee in her eye as she looks my way. “You’re a serial killer, aren’t you, Mom? Knew it! And that’s why you had to trap Uncle Noah and Dad with a baby—to ensure they wouldn’t turn you in. It’s freaking brilliant. My mother is a crafty serial killer.”

  “Evie,” I hiss without meaning to as I give a quick glance around. Three different people look my way in a panic before sailing out the door. “I didn’t trap anyone. And I’m not a killer. We don’t want to start rumors.”

  “Oh no.” She raises her hand like a Girl Scout. “Believe me, I’m never getting on your bad side. But the next time someone does tick you off, can I come with you to hunt down your next victim? Anyway, I totally get your motive to kill Hot Hannah. She’s been infuriating you for months by showing off her hot moves in front of Dad and Uncle Noah. And you’re frustrated. I mean, your house burned down. Dad’s house burned down. We’re all essentially homeless and living with Uncle Noah.” She looks Noah’s way. “And don’t tell me you’re thrilled about my parents sleeping in your bed at night.”

  Noah looks momentarily fit to kill. “Yes, well, your father claims to have a bad back. And he did break a limb looking for me in a burning building. And your mother is most likely carrying my child. It’s the least I can do. Besides, I didn’t get home until four in the morning anyway. The couch was fine.”

  Noah does look a little rough around the edges today. Actually, both he and Everett look a little more rugged than usual with that dark stubble that peppers their faces holding a bit more prominence. And don’t think for a minute that these hyperactive hormones of mine haven’t noticed. Both Noah and Everett look exceptionally handsome on a normal day, let alone when they’re doing their best impression of a lumberjack.

  “Poor Uncle Noah.” Evie leans her head his way. “You don’t even get to sleep in your own bed.”

  “That’s right.” Carlotta slaps her hand on the counter. “Once Mr. Sexy stepped into that cabin, he was ruling the king-size roost.”

  “Not true.” I shoot her a look. Sometimes I think Carlotta loves to stir the pot. I would be right, by the way.

  Carlotta chuckles. “Don’t worry, Foxy. Mayor Nash and I will make room for you in our bed. You can sleep in the middle.”

  Mayor Nash, aka my biological father, and Carlotta have been enjoying a fling for about the last year. They claim to have an open relationship, which is both weird and off-putting, but then again, that’s how I came about almost three decades ago, so I guess I can’t knock it.

  “No thanks.” Noah frowns her way. “I’ve got Toby.”

  “Aww.” Evie offers him a sideways hug. “You’ve got all of us.”

  “That’s right.” I give him a little wink as I toss a donut onto his plate. “We’re family, Noah. You’re stuck with us forever.”

  “Best news I’ve heard all day, Lot.” He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze.

  I know it hasn’t been easy for Noah to see me with Everett, but in truth, he suggested that Everett and I see where things went. Everett had said the same thing a while back regarding Noah and me, and that was Noah’s way of returning the favor. Although I had already come to that conclusion on my own. It was time for Everett to either continue or finish things off and I chose to continue. But I love them both so much, and they know it. The three of us haven’t had the easiest time when it comes to matters of the heart.

  “Anyway”—Evie is right back to looking at me with that devious gleam in her eye—“I know the killer’s motive. I know why you hunted Hot Hannah down and poisoned her with a piece of your pecan pie. You need a house to live in, and she had the rental next door. It was a murder of convenience.”

  “Good job, Evie.” Carlotta hoots and hollers and claps up a storm. “That’s my Lot Lot. I’ve always told her, if you see something you want, go after it at any cost. And now look. She’s got two hot men, a sticky bun in the o
ven, and a brand new house on the horizon. So what if she had to break a few hearts, burn a few homes, and kill a few people to achieve her goals? She’s determined.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Evie.” I moan as a spear of nausea burns through me. My morning sickness loves to come and go as it pleases, and right about now it’s making a reprise. “I’m not an arsonist, or a killer. I’m a magnet for corpses is what I am.”

  “Equally as cool,” Evie points out. “I’m sticking with you more often. Believe me, I’m ticked I missed the last corpse. And it was Hannah, our neighbor whose house is now down one occupant, by the way.” She elbows her father. “Call the landlord and see how soon we can move in. Do I really need to draw you a roadmap?”

  Everett raises a brow in her direction. “Not a bad idea.”

  Evie nods. “Dibs on the dead woman’s bedroom.”

  “Can we not fixate on death for five minutes?” My stomach does a hard flip and then an equally hard flop. “Noah, Everett? More coffee?”

  “Please.” Everett holds out his mug, and I quickly fill it.

  “Black, just the way you like it,” I say as I fill his mug to the brim.

  “Ugh,” Evie grunts as she watches me pour it. “How can you drink your coffee like that, Dad? I think it tastes like a punishment.” She sticks out her tongue just as her friends walk in, and she joins them at a table near the window.

  Carlotta chuckles. “Hear that, Lot? Mr. Sexy likes a good punishment, and it’s your responsibility to dole it out.” She squints his way. “And I can tell by that large and in charge look in his eyes, he likes to dole out a good punishment himself.”

  Noah glowers over at his old stepbrother. “There is a strict no punishment rule while under my roof.”

  Everett’s chest pumps. “You can keep all the rules you like. I’ll find us somewhere else to stay.”

  Carlotta leans in. “I bet Mr. Sexy had a strict no-stealing-my-girlfriend rule back in high school. Rumor has it, you didn’t mind breaking that one, Foxy.”

  I gasp. “Carlotta, that’s old Featherby water under the bridge.” It’s true. Noah and Everett were stepbrothers long enough for Noah’s wily father to rob Everett’s wealthy mother blind. But before they split ways, Noah stole Everett’s girlfriend from under him, a woman by the name of Cormack Featherby. Cormack has been a thorn in our side ever since. She not only still has the hots for Noah, but she happens to be best friends with Evie’s biological nightmare, Cressida. It’s a sick and twisted history that likes to rear its ugly head every chance it gets.

  “That’s funny.” Noah shoots Everett a sly look. “I happened to have that very same no-girlfriend-stealing policy in place when you made a play for Lottie.”

  “Tit for tat,” Carlotta hums. “And I’ve got a feeling Mr. Sexy needs to have the last say.”

  Thankfully, the door whooshes open before any of us can have another say. An icy breeze barrels this way right along with my mother wrapped in an orange and white houndstooth wool coat.

  “Miranda.” Everett leans back. “Just the woman I was hoping to see. You wouldn’t happen to have any rooms available at the B&B, would you?”

  She cringes. “Sorry. Would you believe I’m all booked up right through the new year? We have so many tourists, and on top of that, we have the extended families of those looking to spend Thanksgiving with their loved ones. I’d tell you to try the Evergreen Manor, but I know for a fact they’re booked solid, too. Speaking of bookings”—she looks my way—“the conservatory is free for that surprise party you’re looking to throw.”

  “Mother.” My eyes round out as I look from her to the birthday boy himself.

  Everett stops his fork midflight. “Is that for me? No way. Not necessary. I don’t need a party. Every day is a party with my family. You and Evie are all I need, Lemon.”

  “Too bad,” I say. “I’m throwing you a party. You’re my husband. And it’s going to be your birthday. I want to do this. Maybe we can have it at Noah’s?”

  Noah looks up with a mouthful of donut.

  “Or”—I tip my head to the side—“I can get very creative. Don’t you worry, Everett. You’re going to have a great time.”

  His lips twist to the side. “Don’t go overboard, Lemon. You’ve got enough on your plate already. The best gift you could give me is resting up for the baby.”

  Mom sucks in a quick breath. “Reckless Baby!” She gives a silent applause before looking to Noah and Everett. “I’m trying to find a title that really sizzles for my next book. Noah, your father’s marketing skills are brilliant. Wiley Rose Publishing has really helped my writing take off. Who knew I could start a new career after sixty?”

  It’s true. Noah’s father has selected my mother as his next unwitting victim. Wiley Fox has made it a habit of bilking widows out of their hard-earned money, and now he’s claimed my own mother as his next target.

  I nod. “And such a spicy career at that. I’d steer clear of the title Reckless Baby, though.”

  Carlotta snickers. “Lottie doesn’t want you stealing her thunder.”

  “Reckless Thunder!” My mother snaps her fingers and points. “You are a brilliant woman, Carlotta Sawyer.”

  Carlotta shrugs. “What can I say? It was my genius that brought our little Lot Lot into this world. I’d say she got her man-hungry ways from me, but let’s face it, Toots, you’re not so bad in that department yourself.”

  Mom shimmies her shoulders and purrs like a kitten. “Well, Wiley does have me all tied up.” She leans toward Carlotta. “And that’s just on the good days, or should I say good nights?”

  They share a wild cackle just as Noah’s phone pings.

  He glances to his screen. “Forensics has expedited their analysis. I guess I’d better head down to the lab.”

  Everett pulls out his phone as well. “What’s the sheriff’s department doing with Hannah’s home?”

  Noah cocks his head to the side. “I need to get a court order to inspect it. You know of a judge who wouldn’t mind expediting that?”

  “Come Monday, I’ll get right on it. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. In the meantime, I’ll call the landlord and see if I can work something out with him. In fact”—a dangerous smile flickers on his lips as he looks my way—“it might be my birthday coming up, but I’ve got a surprise cooking up just for you. And I think you’re going to like it.”

  “I’m not going to like it”—I shake my head—“I’m going to love it.”

  Mom gives Everett’s cheek a quick tickle with her fingers. “And whatever you and Noah have got going on with your faces, I love it.”

  “Thanks, Miranda.” Everett stretches a seldom seen smile her way. “Since Noah’s bathroom situation is less than ideal, I’ve decided to partake in No-Shave November. It cuts my time in the morning by half.”

  “Same here.” Noah lifts his mug.

  “Same here.” Carlotta pushes her empty plate away.

  “What do you mean, same here?” I ask as I land a cheese Danish on her plate and put one together for my mother as well.

  “I mean I’m in.” Carlotta gives her chin a quick scratch. “I’m not shaving either. And I’m not talking about my legs. I haven’t shaved those since the day I found out I was preggers with you, Lot. I’m talking about my beard and my stash.”

  “What?” I squawk. It’s one thing to know that Carlotta pushed me through her loins, but it’s a whole other thing to know I might have her genetic disposition for facial hair. “You can’t do that, Carlotta. We’re practically twins. People will know what I look like with a beard.”

  “And a mustache.” She holds up a finger.

  “That’s not going to score any points with me,” I tell her. “Grandma Nell’s house is still under construction. And if you want to move into my new place, you’ll have to follow my rules—no scraggly beards or mustaches from you. Please.” I’m not above begging. “Facial hair is not going to do you any favors.”

  “It’s not going to
make me any money either. I’ve already checked. The circus isn’t coming this way anytime soon. And I need two nickels to call my own. I can’t live off the money Nell left me forever. Funny thing you should bring up my inheritance, Lot—I’ve spent it all. I’m flat broke. I can’t even afford this Danish.”

  “Carlotta! I’m so sorry.” Side note: I have never charged her for a single sweet treat or a dime for rent. I have no idea where her small fortune disappeared to. “Say, you didn’t happen to get into a business venture with Wiley Fox, did you?”

  “Nah.” She waves the idea off, and I can see Noah’s chest depress with relief. “I’m leaving that financial fun to your mama. But don’t you worry about me. I’ve got something cookin’. Miranda, you wouldn’t happen to have a sewing machine, would you?”

  “Oh, I’m sure I have one collecting dust somewhere.” Mom’s eyes tear up in an instant. “Aww, did you want to sew something for Lottie’s baby?”

  “Nope. I want you to whip up a few curtains for my new minivan. I’m going into the spa business.”

  She pulls my mother off to the Honey Pot Diner before I can protest.

  “Really?” I smart to Noah and Everett. “Running a spa out of her minivan? If Carlotta so much as lures a stranger in there by way of candy, I expect you to arrest her, Noah. And Everett, you give her a life sentence at a cushy women’s correctional facility. Both Carlotta and I will thank you for that one.”

  An icy breeze blows in again, and I recognize the pretty redhead at once.

  “Autumn.” I give a cheerful wave. “It’s nice to see you again. Sorry about all the horror yesterday brought. Are you doing okay?”

  She gives a heavy sigh. “As good as can be expected. I just left a bouquet of flowers in front of the Swift Cycle Gym and thought I’d stop in for a slice of that chocolate fudge cake I was debating yesterday. And while I’m here, I can soak in some of the ambience. If you don’t mind, I’ll swing by again sometime this week and we can work on that spotlight interview for Better Homes and Calories. I just love showcasing successful women, and you’re definitely one of them. I’ll do my homework on both you and your shop in the meantime. The magazine is paying for me to stay here in town through the rest of the street fair, so I’ll be here just about all month. I’m right up the road at your mom’s B&B.” She gives a little wink before heading for the register where Lily is just finishing up with a customer.