Key Lime Pie Perjury: Cozy Mystery (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 34)

by Addison Moore

  Lemon takes a bite out of whatever is in that bowl and thrusts her head back as she moans.

  I won’t lie. With her body exposed, that throaty moan, the way she just sent her hair flying free, she’s getting me in the mood to spend my final day of freedom making her do just that.

  “You guys have to try this.” Lemon bounds over and Evie retches.

  “Put that pale water balloon away, Mom, before you squirt someone,” she says, holding her hand out in front of her face. “And you’ve turned me off of food forever. What is it, anyway?” Her nostrils twitch. “It smells kind of good.”

  “Firecracker shrimp,” Keelie says, rocking Lyla Nell until both she and the baby are giggling. “Charlie made it.”

  Charlie shrugs. “The shrimp was boring so I jazzed it up a little.”

  Carlotta starts sniffing around the bowl. “Mmm, do I ever miss me some firecracker shrimp. Cha Cha here really knows her way around a kitchen.”

  “We didn’t have a kitchen,” Charlie points out without missing a beat.

  “What?” Lemon scoffs at Carlotta as she hands both Noah and me a fork. “What kind of a house doesn’t have a kitchen?”

  “The motel kind of a house,” Charlie fires back.

  And that bit of news doesn’t surprise me at all. Lemon holds the bowl our way, and Noah and I dig in at once before giving a moan of approval.

  “You need to add this to the menu, stat.” I point the fork Lemon’s way and she nods.

  “Charlie”—Noah says—“this is delicious. What else can you do in the kitchen?”

  Carlotta clicks her tongue. “See that, Lot? You’re losing him already.”

  Suze sweeps this way. “Noah is available,” she says before grimacing at Charlie. “But not to anyone related to Lottie. I don’t think it would be right.”

  Lily snorts. “That’s right, Charlie. Go get your own man. Suze sold Noah to me a half hour ago.” She gives a hard wink over to him. She’s not entirely teasing, though. Suze has been hard at work to pair Noah up with anyone but Lemon. And seeing that Charlie is her look-alike, I can see why Suze finds her a hard pass.

  Lemon takes another shrimp for herself and quickly swallows it down. “I’m with Noah. What else have you got? Sales at the Honey Pot have been on a steady decline ever since Christmas, and I’d love to give the menu a makeover. Charlie, why don’t you quit Red Satin and come work for me?”

  Keelie gives a feverish nod her way. “You can work with me at the Honey Pot Diner. That way you and Lottie can get to know one another at a safe distance—and my customers will get to eat more of your yummy food.”

  Charlie squints over at Keelie. “I wouldn’t be working for you, I’d be working for her.” She snarls over at Lemon. “I’m not working for you, Lottie Lemon, not now, not ever.” She cranes her neck toward the entrance. “In fact, I’m about to have a meeting regarding just that.”

  The bell chimes again and in walks Fiona Dagmeyer.

  “Fiona.” I stand to greet her, as does Noah. “What brings you to the bakery?”

  Fiona Dagmeyer was once my bedmate, once my coworker, and once my defense attorney, exactly in that order. Thanks to her fancy footwork and that sleepwalking defense Noah thought up, I’ll be headed down to the Ashford County Courthouse bright and early tomorrow morning for the first time this year.

  Her red lips curve with a momentary smile. Her dark hair is pulled back into its traditional top knot, distorting her features just enough as if to prove how tight that bun is, and she’s dressed in a navy skirt and matching blazer as if she were headed to court this afternoon despite the fact it’s Sunday.

  “Nice to see you, Essex. You as well, Detective Fox, but I’m not here for a cordial visit. I’m here to meet with a potential client.”

  “Oh?” Lemon steps forward, buttoning up her blouse. “I’m sorry, Fiona, but there’s not a single customer in here. That construction racket going on outside has scared them all away.”

  “That’s right,” Lily calls from the counter. “Even Lottie’s deadly key lime pie isn’t moving. I’m half-afraid to find out what that means. I’d hate for that poor man to have lost his life for nothing.”

  Charlie brushes her off. “Ms. Dagmeyer is here to see me. I’m her new client.”

  “Good thinking,” Lemon says. “You’re going to get a restraining order on that nutcase that has both you and Carlotta up in arms. That’s the best way to get rid of him.”

  Carlotta nods to Fiona. “He goes by the name Rooster. And Cha Cha and I got him good and mad when we sent him up the river to hard time. If he gets wind that you’re helping us, you might need a restraining order, too.”

  Charlie flicks her wrist. “I’m not getting a restraining order against Rooster. That’s not how you get a man like that, Carlotta, and you know it.”

  It’s one thing for Lemon to call Carlotta by her given name, but it feels odd hearing it from Charlie who was raised by her. On second thought, it’s probably what Carlotta prefers.

  “Fiona.” I nod her way. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s not for me to tell.” She tips her head back as she looks to Charlie. “Would you like to do the honors before we confer in private?”

  Charlie’s lips twitch and I can’t get over how much she looks like Lemon. It would be hard to tell them apart in the dark, and after that stunt Charlie pulled last month by climbing into Noah’s bed, I’m on full alert around this one. She’s licked her lips around me enough to know the threat is real.

  Charlie shrugs as she looks to Lemon. “I’m thinking about suing you, sis. I want half of everything Grandma Nell left you.”

  Lemon inches back. “Charlie, don’t you think we should talk about this before you go suing me? We’re family, we talk things through over pizza. We don’t litigate.”

  “Take the pizza, Cha Cha.” Carlotta hitches her head. “Lot Lot’s got the legal system on lock. Besides, my brother William blew a wad trying to sue her silly and he didn’t get diddly. Face it, the rest of us got what we got and Lot got the rest. Nell was probably afraid Lot would kill her if she didn’t leave her the lion’s share of her estate. And look where that landed her—with a set of quarters on her eyes and I bet Lot swooped in and scooped them up, too.”

  Lemon groans, “Carlotta, that makes no sense.” She turns abruptly to Charlie. “But she’s right.”

  Before the wayward conversation can take another step, that man I saw speaking to Manny Moretti last night, the one with the greasy blond hair, waltzes into the bakery like he owns the place.

  Noah comes over to me and we both stand with our shoulders back as the guy struts this way. He’s wearing an odd looking suit, his tie looks as if it’s from another era entirely, his hair is combed back, and despite the fact his beard is short, it looks scraggly and unkempt.

  Both Charlie and Carlotta let out an odd howl before Carlotta pounces at him and hisses.

  “Here ya are, you pretty little thing.” He walks right up to Lemon and dives in as if going for a kiss.

  “I’m pretty sure you don’t mean me.” She whacks him with a kitchen towel. “I’m innocent in this fiasco. I believe you’re looking for them.”

  “Huh?” He turns and does a double take. Had he kissed her I would have been forced to deck him. He could have pressed charges, and I would have found myself on suspension again. But it would have been worth it.

  “How do you like that?” He looks from Lemon to Charlie. “Sugar and salt look the same, but believe me, my lovies, I can tell the difference.” He turns to his intended victims. “If it ain’t the two Carlottas. I’ve shaken this town twice looking high and low for you. Long time no see, pussycats.” The man opens his arms up wide. “Come to Rooster, ladies.”

  Carlotta elbows Charlie. “Maybe we should rethink that restraining order.”

  “Nah.” Charlie whips off her shoe and starts beating the man senseless while navigating him to the door. “And stay out! You’ll come out to play when I’m good
and ready,” she shouts as he lands on the other side of the glass.

  He blows a few kisses to Charlie and Carlotta and shouts, “You haven’t seen the last of me!” He winks at Carlotta. “The fun is just beginning.”

  Lemon wraps her arms around my waist. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” She blows a curl off her forehead. “So Everett, what do you want to do on the last official day of your inadvertent vacation?”

  “Who’s first on your suspect list, Lemon?”

  Her lips curl with delight. “I was just thinking I should pay a visit to Honey Lake and check out Duncan Spears’ rental shop.”

  Noah steps forward and nods. “It’s like you read my mind. I say we change into our swimsuits. I predict a little water fun on the horizon.”

  “I’m in,” Evie shouts.

  “I’m in, too, Lot Lot.” Carlotta raises a hand. “I’ve got a new bikini I’ve been meaning to try out. I’ll meet you all at Honey Lake!”

  She takes off and Lemon scoops the baby out of Keelie’s arms. “I’ll get my things from the back.”

  Noah blows out a breath as he nods my way. “Can I ask what you did with your briefcase?”

  “It’s exactly where you left yours. In the back of my car.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Nothing a homicide detective should know about.”

  He nods. “You realize that once we turn those briefcases over, there’s no going back.”

  “That’s why we’re not going to do it. It’s too dangerous.”

  Noah glares out the window a moment. “It’s too dangerous not to.”

  I hate it when he’s right.

  Noah glances to the floor as if weighing his options. “I’ll fix this for the both of us.”

  I pull him in by the shirt like a reflex. “You don’t fix things, you break them. Or do you need Florenza Canelli’s ghost to come back as a reminder? I’m the one that fixes this for the both of us.”

  Lemon and the baby come back and we take off for the day.

  It was challenging enough to fix this nightmare when it was just me, but with Noah in the equation, it feels darn right impossible. However, time is running out for the both of us, and if I don’t fix things quickly, it might just blow up in our faces—and take everyone we love down with it.

  Lottie

  “Come on, Lot,” Carlotta shouts. “Hurry up, we gotta find a primo spot in the sand before they’re all taken. It’s time to shake and bake.”

  “I’m hurrying!” I shout back as Noah, Everett, and I do our best to keep up. The air is thick and muggy as the scents of coconut suntan oil and mouthwatering barbeque light up our senses.

  My phone pings and I glance down only to find it’s yet another horrible message from that Beware app Lainey installed. Pizza delivery vehicle taken in strong-arm robbery in Leeds.

  “Wonderful,” I grunt. “Every time I get one of these messages from Beware, I’m reminded that the world I’ve brought my daughter into is going to hell in a handbasket.”

  “A lead handbasket,” Everett adds.

  He’s holding Lyla Nell in her car seat and I have the sun shield up, but I can hear her happily cooing away from inside. Noah is holding the cooler, the oversized quilt I brought along to set out on the sand, and a stack of beach towels while I lug the diaper bag brimming with everything I could shove in it, including a few bottles of milk that I expressed earlier this morning in the event Noah or Everett wanted to feed the baby while I nap in the sun. Nothing sounds more tempting right now than a sun nap. And, of course, I’ve brought enough sunscreen to slather onto every man, woman, and child in the state of Vermont. Nobody is getting a sunburn on my watch.

  We crest the parking lot and a breath hitches in my throat as I get a good look at the majesty before me. There is nothing as glorious as Honey Lake in June. The sky hangs crystalline overhead as the lake glitters like a vast sapphire expanse.

  The lake is seven miles long east to west and two and a half miles at its widest point. It has a sandy barrier followed by a grassy area, there are a walkway and a bike trail all around it, and the woods sit just off to the left. Pricey houses butt right up to the lake along the lower right-hand side, and there are two docks, one at either end. There are tons of boats out on the water today, and a lot more smaller watercrafts than I can count. Not too far off, I can see a plethora of orange kayaks lined against a small rental shack, the exact place I plan on heading once we get settled. We purposefully didn’t bring tents or chairs because that’s where the rental shop that Duncan Spears owned comes in.

  But as beautiful as Honey Lake might be, usurping its beauty is the heavenly scent of all things grilled and fried.

  “My word, it smells amazing out here.”

  “I smell hot dogs,” Noah moans as he points to the right, where we find rows and rows of food booths, and every single sign looks familiar to me.

  “Just about every business on Main Street has taken up residence here,” I gasp.

  Everett nods. “Every business but yours. Look, there’s the Wicked Wok.”

  “And there’s Mangias,” Noah points out.

  I shake my head. “Would you look at that? Even Head over Heels Bookstore has a booth and so does Scarlet Sage Boutique.”

  Carlotta stops and turns around. “Lot Lot, they’ve got Hennifer's Chicken here, too! Bok Bok BOK!” she crows for effect—or more to the point because she had to. Hennifer’s Chicken has the tendency to possess Carlotta, and the rest of us as well.

  “Oh dear Lord.” I smack Noah on the gut as if it were an instinct. “Go get us a bucket.”

  “You bet. In fact, I’d better make it two,” Noah says and my mouth falls open as I look at him.

  “Why do I feel judged?” I ask.

  “More like seen, Lot,” Carlotta points out.

  “What?” Noah expends a nervous laugh and his dimples dig in deep. “Evie said her and her friends were heading out today. I thought they could join us for lunch. Lyla Nell likes having her big sister around.” He grimaces at Everett a moment. “I’ll go get that chicken now.” He takes off and Everett shakes his head.

  “Don’t worry, Lemon. I would never judge you for a single thing. Actually, I was thinking we should pick up some Wicked Wok and Mangias, too. You know, to do our part in supporting local businesses.”

  “You’re an instigator,” I tell him. “One I highly approve of. Make sure to get some Kung Pao shrimp. I’m really craving it, especially after having a bite of Charlie’s firecracker shrimp this morning.” My eyes snag on a tent not too far off on the grass. “Oh look! There’s Mayor Nash talking to my mother. Why don’t you give me the baby and I’ll head over.” Mayor Nash is in a suit, looking mighty mayoral despite the heat, and my mother has on a floral sundress and a wide-brimmed hat. She’s never been a fan of soaking up the rays. She calls them the death rays, and she’s probably right.

  “Perfect.” Everett hands me the carrier. “I’ll be right back with food to fuel Noah’s judgment of us.” He gives a sly wink before taking off.

  Both Noah and Everett have donned their board shorts, ready for a swim. And I know as soon as their T-shirts come off they’re going to cause a scene. I managed to squeeze into a purple one-piece I bought on a whim online a few weeks back. I’ll admit I should have sized up, but I honestly thought more of my baby weight would have come off by now. I’m thankful I fit in it at all, but I’m feeling an awful lot like a sausage in an extra small casing. Here’s hoping I don’t spring out of my bathing suit and give everyone a heart attack. Everett and Noah might appreciate the end result, but the rest of the people at the lake might invoke legal action. But as it stands, I still have my pink sundress over it. I’m not ready for the big bodily reveal just yet.

  “Hey, Mom! Hey, Mayor Nash,” I say as I head under the blue and white striped tent they’re standing under and make my way toward the long table with refreshments on it. Carlotta hops over, dancing from leg to leg in a white lace robe over what I’
m hoping covers a somewhat modest bathing suit. There’s a look of distress on her face and her movements are becoming increasingly agitated by the moment. “Carlotta, are you okay?” I ask as I land the baby carrier onto the table and Mom quickly plucks Lyla Nell out.

  Carlotta winces. “I have to go to the bathroom, Lot. I knew I shouldn’t have had that seventh cup of coffee.”

  Mayor Nash points south. “You’d better run. The bathrooms aren’t exactly nearby. It’s a good five-minute walk, at least.”

  “I don’t have five minutes.” Carlotta drops her lace robe and both Mom and I reflexively look away from the flash of blinding white. Carlotta has on a red string bikini—with two itsy-bitsy pieces. Her boobs touch her belly, and her skin is draped and creped, but if Carlotta doesn’t mind showing off what she’s got, then I shouldn’t either. “I’ve got five seconds.” She kicks off her flip-flops and bullets past us, knocking over a few teenagers as she barrels her way to the edge of the water and runs on in.

  “And just like that, the acidity level rises in Honey Lake.” I shake my head as a look of relief fills Carlotta’s face, and not surprisingly an entire crowd of people swims away from her.

  “Water’s warm, Lot!” she calls out.

  “And we know why,” I mutter.

  Mayor Nash belts out a laugh. “Hello, Lottie. You’re looking good, kiddo,” he says as he pulls me into a brief embrace. Mayor Harry Nash is tall, barrel-chested, has blond hair mixed with silver, and there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes at all times. I found out a couple of years ago that he’s my biological father, and that’s probably why everything still feels so new between us. “I was just telling your mother I’m surprised your bakery and diner aren’t taking part in Main Street by the Lake.”

  “Main Street by the Lake?” I shake my head at him. “This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

  His mouth falls open. “But the town council sent out an email last week to all the businesses that would be affected by the beautification project. We’ve bypassed the permits for setting up a kiosk at the lake, so anytime you’re ready we’ve got a booth for the bakery and the Honey Pot Diner. The crowds are pretty thick right up until evening. I’m hoping it’ll make up for any financial losses you might be enduring. The new sidewalks should be completed in less than two weeks. I apologize. I realize what an inconvenience this is for everyone.”