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

by Addison Moore

  “That’s a motive,” I say. “I’ve seen people killed for less. Next?” I shoot Noah a look that says speed it along or die. And sadly, that’s probably not an exaggeration.

  Noah nods to Lemon. “How about Lorelei? Britney said that Lorelei had to step out of the inn the night Duncan was killed because the sight was making her sick.”

  “Britney said she stayed with Karen. They were at the entry to the ballroom, peering in with a crowd of people.” Lemon glances to the table. “And not long after that, Britney said she felt a prick on her arm. That means the killer was able to blend in seamlessly. And later when I spoke to Karen, she did say that she heard Lorelei sharing bitter words with Duncan. She said that Lorelei looked either shaken or seething when she saw them.”

  I take a breath of hot, humid air. “Maybe she asked to borrow money?”

  Lemon glances to the sky. “Her husband did take off with his secretary a year back and was humiliated. But I guess she inherited that Flat Iron Ranch property. Enya said that Lorelei is living high on the hog.”

  Noah takes a deep breath himself. “And that leaves Karen Collier. What do you know, Lot?”

  “Henrick said something off about Karen.” She leans in. “He said that Duncan once bragged to him that Karen paid him for something precious and that she was feeding his bank account a steady diet of hush money ever since.”

  “Hush money?” I shake my head. “This case gets more convoluted by the minute. “Didn’t you mention that she was married to the guy that started that pet store?”

  “The Posh Pet Stop,” she says. “And believe me, they have more than enough money. It makes me wonder what kind of a transaction occurred between the two of them.”

  “Maybe they were sleeping together?” Noah suggests.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “The verbiage is so strange. He specifically said she paid him for something precious. No offense to the deceased, but the way he shared his body with women wasn’t all that precious.”

  “And that’s it.” Noah shoots me a look that says it’s go time.

  “All right, Lemon.” Noah and I rise out of our seats at the very same time, and Lemon is slow to follow. She wants to maintain the reins, I get it. And I would give her that if I could, but I love her too much to do it. “Tell me where to go, and I’ll leave you two to grab a bite to eat.”

  “I’m not telling you a thing,” she says as she presses those hazel eyes of hers to mine. “I’ll take you there.” She gives a little wink before leading Noah and me toward the parking lot.

  Lemon says it’s less than five minutes away, so we hop into my truck and she instructs me to head to the marina.

  “The boat,” I mutter as I look her way. “I should have figured that. Good choice. Where did you put it?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s locked in the stateroom. Both briefcases are on the bed. Once I emptied yours out, Everett, I simply put the cash into your old briefcase. And believe me when I say I took pains to remove every last bit of paperwork that could link you to that money from your old one.”

  “Good. I’ve got the original briefcase in the back seat. I’ll switch everything once we get on board.”

  We park and hustle right over to The Lucky Lemon.

  Lucky Lemon, indeed. A flood of relief hits me as soon we hop onto the boat. I unlock it and we head down into the stateroom. I throw open the door, but the bed is empty save for one slightly rumpled comforter.

  “Where is it?” I walk over to the other end of the room and do a quick visual sweep before looking back at her.

  “Oh no.” She takes a half-step back, the color bleeding from her face. “They’re gone.”

  Lottie

  The B&B is lit up like a nineteenth century dream.

  All of Honey Hollow has turned out for tonight’s redemption regency ball, and every last person in attendance has donned their best regency attire for the occasion as well. The historical society charged us for the rental gowns once again but reminded everyone that all proceeds go straight to their fundraiser, and then they hiked their prices up by five dollars.

  The music is perfectly classical, and the crowd is exceptionally chipper as we congregate right here in the glass conservatory as the navy sky hovers overhead.

  Noah is still on his way. He’s spent the day down in Ashford working on the case. And Everett is here on the premises, trying to get ahold of Manny Moretti yet again. Ever since that nightmare unfolded and we discovered those briefcases missing, we’ve been in a full-blown panic. Okay, correction: I’ve been in a full-blown panic.

  Noah has been putting together a will in haste should he meet his untimely demise, and Everett has been calmly making one call after the other to Manny but to no avail. He assured me he would figure this out and that somehow things would turn out just fine. But a part of me realizes, that as my husband, he’s supposed to offer up just that assurance. I’m thinking Noah is more on the money. Come Monday, I’ll see about making up a will of my own.

  Tomorrow is Sunday—Father’s Day, the exact day Noah and Everett promised to tell me everything. Here’s hoping I don’t have a heart attack when the big reveal is made. I’d hate to drop dead before I can bequeath everything to Lyla Nell.

  Speaking of my sweet little sugar cookie, Evie said she’d keep an eye on her tonight, then asked if Dash, Conner, and Kyle could hang out and watch a movie with her since most horror movies start off with a girl babysitting out in the middle of the woods. I said yes, and shockingly, so did Everett. I bet he’s thinking the more the merrier, especially since those missing briefcases spell trouble.

  Carlotta adjusts her pretty pink gown. “If there’s a corpse at the end of this night, it’s going to be one of those battleaxes who I rented this dress from.”

  Charlie nods as she tugs and fusses with an empire waist dress of her own. “I’ll help you kill ’em, Carlotta.”

  “Is that what the two of you did back in Higgins Bottom?” I tilt my ear their way. “Come on, fess up. Did one of your little robberies go wrong?”

  A spray of blue and green stars appears, and suddenly we’re graced by the presence of a curly-haired Bichon Frise who looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to spill all the dirty details—or at least as many as he knows, and I’m betting he knows a lot.

  “There you are, Carlotta.” Pretty Boy barks. “Why, the way you’re cowering, one would think that you’re afraid of me.”

  “Of you?” Carlotta flicks her wrist at the thought. “I’m not afraid of a little ghost dog like you. You’re demanding, and bossy, and back your bark up with a bite. What’s not to love?”

  Pretty Boy lets a few more barks rip. “Then why on earth did you sleep under the bed last night?”

  Carlotta makes a face. “I happen to like sleeping under the bed. Besides, I’ve got Lot running around on the loose, threatening me at every turn. I figure I’ve got to get used to sleeping in confined spaces and below the land of the living. A little dry run for the casket never did anyone no harm.”

  “Maybe not physically,” I tell her. “But psychologically, it sounds unreasonably trying.” Much like Carlotta herself. I scoop Pretty Boy up and pull him my way, and his little pink tongue hangs out as he pants. “All right, Pretty Boy, you know exactly what Carlotta and Charlie did back in Higgins Bottom. You’d better spill it, and you’d better spill it fast. And if you tell me in the next five minutes, I’ll fill my entire kitchen up with key lime pies for you to enjoy tonight.”

  He gives a sharp bark. “Carlotta—”

  No sooner does he get her name out than she gives him a shove right through my body and into the outer banks of the room.

  Carlotta straightens. “My, don’t you look nice tonight, Lot. That green dress really brings out the greedy in your eyes.” She grabs Charlie by the elbow. “Welp, Cha Cha and I have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. We’re turning in early. Enjoy the eighteenth century sock hop.”

  She starts to take off, and I step in front of her
.

  “Nice try,” I say. “It’s the nineteenth century we’re celebrating, and what exactly is so important that you have to turn in early for?”

  Charlie jabs her with a finger. “Yeah, Carlotta. What are we doing tomorrow?”

  “Waking up.” Carlotta looks to Charlie. “Make a run for it, Cha Cha!”

  Carlotta runs to the right and bumps right into Mayor Nash, whom she quickly lands on the dance floor. But I catch Charlie by the wrist.

  “Loosen up.” She yanks herself free. “You’re going to leave a mark. I don’t have to tell you anything about nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, Greer, Cormack, and Naomi are waiting for me to find them. The party doesn’t officially start until I arrive.”

  “Sounds like you’ve made some really good friends.” The diciest friends dead or alive, but still.

  “I have. The next thing on my hit list is finding some really good boyfriends.” She makes a face. “But just one for me. We might look alike, talk alike, and act alike”—she rolls her eyes—“okay, fine, we act nothing alike, but I’m still a one-man woman.”

  “Believe me, I envy you. Two isn’t always better than one.”

  “Except maybe in your case.” She turns a shoulder up at me. “Grandma Nell told me all about the double your soulmates, double your fun deal you seemed to have worked out with the universe.”

  “You saw Nell?” My voice spikes, but mostly from excitement. And it’s true about the double soulmates. Nell told me that both Noah and Everett are just that to me. And to be truthful, it feels right.

  “Yup.” She gives her pastel blue dress a quick tug at the hips. “She asked me not to pursue the lawsuit. She said you and I would work things out eventually.”

  “There’s nothing to work out,” I say without meaning to blurt it out like that. “Look, you’re hiding something from me regarding Rooster. You admitted to perjuring yourself, and Pretty Boy said there were robberies involved. I have to know what I’m up against with you before I even think of offloading any of Nell’s real estate holdings your way.”

  “What you’re up against with me?” She takes a step forward with her hands balled up in fists just as Everett appears by my side and lands a hand between us.

  Everett looks unfairly handsome tonight with his dark suit, silver tie, and those bedroom eyes of his shining like twin blue beacons. His facial scruff gives off just the right amount of bad boy, and I’ve been intoxicated by his cologne since we left the house.

  “Whoa, ladies. Charlie.” He nods her way. “What’s going on?”

  “Charlie was just about to tell me what she and Carlotta did to send Rooster up the river.”

  Charlie snorts. “My sister is delusional. But then, you already know that, Judge Baxter. After all, she thinks she can have her cake and eat it, too. And thanks to the fact you’re an enabler, she can.”

  “Hey”—Everett gruffs it out—“I’m not enabling anything. Lemon and I are married. If you have issues, see a shrink. Better yet, do your sister a favor and see Manny Moretti. Because of you, those briefcases are missing.”

  “Because of me?” Charlie’s voice shrills as if she were on fire. “Look here, buster”—she pokes a finger in his chest—“your little blushing bride ran around her boyfriend’s bedroom topless looking for that briefcase on her own. Nobody put a gun to her head.”

  I look up at Everett. “Speaking of guns, I have Ethel.” I had a feeling I’d need a little firepower with me this fine summer evening. And the temptation to pull my Glock out and aim for Carlotta’s and Charlie’s feet is staggeringly high. But I have a feeling they’ll never tell what they did to that man. And who cares about that man when I’ve got this one. “Care to dance?”

  He gives Charlie a stern look. “My apologies for laying the blame at your feet. This entire situation has created extreme duress.”

  Charlie lifts her nose to the ceiling. “If you would have played nice, I might just let Manny spin me on the dance floor. But since you’re a womanizing ogre, I’ll slap Manny silly the next time I see him and I’ll tell him that was from you.” She storms off and Everett straightens.

  “I take it Manny is on his way?” I ask as I pull him in by the tie.

  “You’re good, Lemon.” He lands a lingering kiss to my lips. “I’d better try to intercept him and tell him to steer clear. We don’t need any extra drama tonight. Besides”—his eyes ride up and down my gown—“you are far too beautiful for me not to give you my full attention.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “Consider your dance card filled to the brim, front and back. I’ll be back to sweep you off your feet.” He takes off, and I step into the conservatory as the friendly laughter and the clink of champagne glasses fills the air.

  “Carlotta Junior,” a deep voice strums from behind, and I turn to see not only Jimmy Canelli but Luke Lazzari. Both men have donned dark suits, black ties. Luke’s bald head gleams under the duress of the chandeliers up above, and Jimmy’s silver thicket of hair is styled in a pompadour. “Daddy,” I call out as I offer Jimmy a hug.

  “You’re a beaut.” Jimmy pulls back and shakes his head as he examines me. “A real Canelli through and through.” He gives a hearty wink, and my stomach drops. Even though I have no intent on blowing my cover, I’m always afraid I’m a second away from exactly that happening. If I weren’t Jimmy’s daughter, he probably would have blown Everett’s head off by now for tampering with his niece’s body.

  “It’s nice to see you both came out again to support the historical society.”

  Luke’s chest pulsates with what I’m assuming is a laugh. “Let’s just say we’re amassing quite the reputation for being a couple of altruistic shmucks. Where’s your other half?”

  “And your other half?” Jimmy asks as the smile glides right off his face—manufactured smile as it were, but still.

  “Everett is calling—his mother.” Good Lord, I just fibbed to two of the biggest mobsters in the country. “And well, Noah was working late, but as soon as he showers and changes, he’ll be here.”

  “Buggaww.” The sharp cry erupts from my right, and I turn to see Rooster stepping up beside me with a devilish grin.

  He’s wearing a tan suit with a weird tie that I’m pretty sure is a shoelace. His eyes are squinted with silent laughter, and his dark blond scruff only seems to highlight his slightly upturned nose.

  “What’s this, Sugar?” He bucks my way. “These two gentlemen bothering ya? I’ll have you both know I double as security around here. If the little lady says to give you the heave-ho, I’ll be forced to kick ya out on yer keesters.” He puffs his chest as if basking in his self-appointed accolade. I’m pretty sure others need security against him, and not the other way around.

  Jimmy and Luke exchange an ice-cold look that I’m pretty sure means certain death for a certain foolish fowl. I’d hate to see Rooster wearing a pair of cement boots before the night is through, especially since he went to prison for something Carlotta and Charlie dreamed up in some wily scheme of theirs. Speaking of Wiley, Noah’s look-alike father steps up with his dark hair and dimples firmly in place.

  “Rooster, my friend.” Wiley nods my way. “Good evening, Lottie. You are a vision tonight.” He lowers his head a notch as he looks to Jimmy and Luke. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us, Rooster and I have some business to tend to,” he says before he whisks him off. Even Wiley has the good sense not to mess with the mob.

  Jimmy and Luke excuse themselves to partake in the all-you-can-eat dessert buffet sponsored by yours truly. Lily and Suze said they didn’t mind working the table so long as they got to eat their weight in key lime pies themselves—along with their regular paychecks, of course. Apparently, it’s a big hit with both employees and partygoers alike. We sold out of all baked goods each day on the lake even though we brought an excess of key lime—

  “Whoa”—Lorelei Mulligan swings a slice of my pie just shy of my dress—“I’m so sorry, Lottie. It’s so crowded in here, I should have sat
down to eat this.”

  Her crimson hair complements her blush pink dress, and I’m happy to report there’s not a smidge of my key lime pie smeared over it.

  “You’re fine. And so is this dance. It looks as if the historical society is having quite the turnout.”

  “That we are. Everyone from the historical society is here. All of the top brass from the Posh Pet Stop is here as well—I inventory their accounting every few months or so and audit them, so I’m familiar with the staff. And, of course, all of Honey Hollow has shown up in droves. I guess you could say it’s a historical turnout.” She laughs. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m glad to see everyone in high spirits. I think we could all use a little levity. Especially since the killer is still on the loose.”

  Her face irons out. “You mean the sheriff’s department isn’t closing in on her?”

  “On her?”

  She glances over my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I guess I just thought Enya was the guilty party. I mean, after what he did to her, I couldn’t blame her for wanting him dead.”

  “Are you talking about the—transaction they had for money?”

  “You know?” Her eyes widen, as does that sly smile.

  “I think I do. No wonder she felt humiliated. And I’m sorry she felt she needed to stoop so low for money.”

  She closes her eyes a moment. “I can certainly attest to the fact it’s much easier being rich than it is poor. Anyway, Enya needs to be looked at by the sheriff’s department. Whoever killed Duncan was desperate. And not only did Enya sleep with him for the money, it was a high interest loan. She was going to have to pay back every cent and almost half of what she borrowed on top of it. Enya called him the beach front mobster for a reason.” She shrugs. “I guess some people can be driven to do just about anything to save their necks. I think I’ll go get some coffee to have with my dessert.” She takes off and I spot Enya near the entry, looking apprehensively at the room full of pastel dresses and handsome men.