Murder in the Mix Box Set

by Addison Moore

  Seated near them is Rigby Emerson, and I can’t help but note that she hasn’t shed a single tear. Not that sobbing at funerals is a requirement, but she doesn’t even look upset. If anything, she looks annoyed, as if the entire event bungled her schedule. And I’m betting it did. Curt mentioned that they weren’t planning on staying in Honey Hollow long—right after he told me he was thrilled with the extended vacay. His words, not mine.

  Noah, however, is seated two rows over from me where Everett and I watch Cormack turn up the waterworks in hopes that Noah will rescue her from the undue level of despair she’s displaying, considering the fact she didn’t know Rhonda.

  The pastor wraps it up, and soon we’re bowing our heads in prayer before the crowd begins to make their way next door for refreshments.

  Everett wraps an arm over my shoulders as he bows down. “Look at that.” He nods over at an odd sight. It’s Simon Warwick walking down the aisle as he makes his way to Felicity.

  “Noah said they haven’t made an arrest yet. In fact, he said Simon doesn’t have any record whatsoever, not even a traffic ticket. This guy is squeaky clean.”

  Everett tips his head to the side. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t have reason enough for murder.”

  “True. But I can’t seem to wrap my head around what that would be. She liked him. Sure, he owed her money, but who didn’t?”

  “What about the necklace?”

  I shake my head. “Simon is stymied on how it got there. Noah said it was either cleaned of his prints or adulterated when Felicity picked it up.”

  “Unless she’s the killer. She was the one that plucked it out of his pocket.”

  “In that case, she was probably thrilled I noticed it first.”

  We watch as the two of them come together, and I take Everett by the hand and thread us through the crowd as we make our way over.

  Mom falls over me with a heavy embrace. “Oh, Lottie! This is terrible. First, we lose Eve Hollister and now Rhonda? Soon we won’t have enough members to host any of our clubs with. You just have to catch this killer.” She pulls back, and her eyes flit to the ceiling. “Eve died because she was about to rat someone out and put an end to their professional career. Do you think Rhonda was about to do something like that?”

  Before I can answer, Rich Dallas, my mother’s ultra-annoying, ultra-controlling boyfriend, zips her off to the exit shouting something about his favorite cookies. I’m guessing that man has had his way his entire life, and my mother has no choice but to comply with his every cookie whim.

  Everett and I proceed to Felicity.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, fully realizing that those right there feel like the emptiest words at a funeral, but they also resonate the most truth. “It was a beautiful service.”

  Felicity has donned a bright yellow dress, her mother’s favorite color, but her face is swollen from crying. Her eyes are tracked with crimson. “Thank you. We’re having a private burial tomorrow morning across the street, and you’re welcome to be there. She really liked you, Lottie. I just thought it would be too much for one day. This way I get to keep her with me a little bit longer.”

  “I completely understand, and thank you for the invitation.” I’d be devastated if anything happened to my mother. I don’t even know how she’s standing, let alone able to hold a conversation. I turn to Simon. “And how are you?”

  “Innocent.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And after learning about all the painstaking measures this killer took to make me look like the perpetrator, I’m edgy. My lawyer said that the killer might actually have the nerve to show up today. I bet they’re hoping to plant more evidence on me, too.”

  “Lottie.” Willow comes over wearing one of Rhonda’s sweaters—a pink one strewn with birthday banners and balloons. She offers me a firm embrace, her chest bucking slightly as she pulls away. Her dark hair is neatly pulled back into a bun, and she’s donned a pair of heels, making her almost as tall as I am. “I can’t believe she’s really gone. She would have loved how this turned out.” She leans in toward Felicity. “I can help with the move anytime you want. I just saw the realtor in the back, and she let me know the good news.”

  “Move?” My antennae perk up as I look to Felicity.

  Felicity nods. “It turns out, my mother left me a small fortune.” She leans in. “Thirty thousand dollars. It was one of those in-case-if-anything-happens-to-me situations. So I subleased my apartment to Jana and invested in a small condo for myself. Escrow closes in a few weeks. I wanted to do something responsible with the money, and this way having a place of my own, and a mortgage payment, I’ll have to make sure to keep the flower shop going healthy and strong.”

  Willow nods. “We’ll both make sure that place survives and thrives.”

  “And I have Willow to thank for it. She’s the one that landed me front and center at Redwood Realty.”

  Willow waves it off. Something in the back garners her attention as she cranes her neck that way. She swats Felicity on the arm with excitement and points that way. “Pepper Patrick just showed up! I knew she would be here. I just knew it!”

  Sure enough, the pink-haired, somber-faced, clad in black woman trots down the aisle and offers her condolences to Felicity.

  She leans in close. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to honor your mother by using her name in my next book.”

  “Oh, wow!” Felicity gushes. “She would just die if she knew that!” She cringes. “Wrong word choice. Sorry.”

  Pepper gives a soft laugh. “It’s quite all right. I’m more than happy to do it.”

  Mourners bombard Felicity and Willow, and so Everett and I step over to Pepper.

  “Thank you for coming,” I whisper. “Hey? You solve mysteries for a living. Who do you think killed Rhonda?”

  Pepper twitches her nose as she considers this. She looks from Everett to me. “I don’t know who did it. But in my books, it’s always the one that seems to have a solution for everything. Whoever did this knew how much my books meant to her, and that hurts me to think my signing was the venue the killer chose to carry out that heinous act. And that second person they tried to do in? It means someone was getting a little too close to the truth, and they wanted to throw the investigation in another direction. The homicide detectives must be hot on their heels.”

  I bite down over my lip, considering this. “Why do you think they haven’t skipped town yet?”

  “Too obvious.” She shrugs. “But they will. Whoever it is won’t be in Honey Hollow long. They’ll want to breathe easy. Just you wait. Soon enough, another job opening will come up, or a relative will need them. And once the heat is off, they’ll skip right out of town, none the worse for wear.”

  “Wow, you’re pretty good, considering you may not even have half the facts.”

  She sheds a proud smile. “I can’t help it. I kill people for a living.”

  Pepper takes off, and Noah crops up in her place. “What did she say?” He pins his lawn green eyes over mine, and they still have the power to warm me.

  Everett leans in. “She said if she was the killer she’d off the bumbling homicide detective next.”

  “Very funny.” Noah doesn’t smile. “Lottie, Cormack just informed me that the Bonnet Festival next Sunday is sort of a big deal around here. I wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind being my date.”

  Everett’s lips curl at the sides. “Did you remember to ask your wife’s permission?”

  Noah’s chest expands twice its size. “I just got word that my divorce will be final in July.”

  “Then I will think about dating you in July,” I say before looking up at Everett. “However, chances are good that I’ll be well occupied.”

  “Hear that?” Everett straightens with pride. “She’ll be too busy for you because I’ll be keeping her entertained.”

  Noah glowers at the brave judge by my side. “She’ll be bored.”

  Everett ticks his head back a notch. “What makes you think that
?”

  “Because that’s why Cormack said she left you.” He stalks off, angry perhaps even at himself and he should be.

  “That was below the belt,” I seethe.

  Everett lands an arm over my shoulders. “I’m just glad you’re finally seeing his true colors. Noah Fox is used to getting exactly what and who he wants. And when it doesn’t go his way—it gets ugly.”

  Macon flaps his wings manically from the side of the sanctuary as if he were trying to get my attention.

  “Why don’t you go into Carlson Hall and grab some cookies? I made those blondie bars you love so much. I think I’m going to head to the ladies’ room.” I pivot to the left and mouth Macon’s name.

  Everett gives me the thumbs-up and takes off just as I head toward the side of the sanctuary, and Macon follows me down a secluded hall.

  “What is it? What did you find?” I hiss at the gloriously plumed poltergeist.

  “It’s Felicity.” He lets out a broken caw as if he sounded pained. “I overheard her speaking with Rigby. She said, ‘We could split the money. Split the money!’”

  “Split the money? It sounds like her mother really did take out a loan on her behalf. She just bought a condo a few days after her mother was brutally murdered. That’s two huge life changes to embrace in a short window of time. Maybe Rigby found out about her big cash payout and she wants a piece of the cut?”

  Macon’s wings flap all the harder as he struggles to maintain suspended animation.

  “I would bet my afterlife Rigby mentioned something about the flower shop. I’m almost certain she did. But that’s not the doozy.” He lets out a consecutive string of chirps before floating a notch higher. “Simon mentioned a Twila Omega. Does that name ring a bell?”

  “Twila Omega?” I suck in a quick breath. “Yes! She’s the nudie nutcase from Leeds. Honest to God, Macon, they’re just about all nutcases in Leeds.”

  “I do recall.” He belts out a laugh that sounds eerily like Rhonda’s. “Simon informed Rigby that he was surprised that Twila wasn’t at the service.”

  “Why would Twila be at Rhonda Gilbert’s funeral? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Macon twitches his head behind me, and I turn to find Noah standing there. His hands are buried in his pockets, and his expression is long, as if he were resigned to accept this madness I continually choose to display.

  My adrenaline spikes, and my heart gives off a few life-threatening detonations at the sight of him. “Would you believe me if I said I was processing the investigation out loud?”

  His dimples twitch in and out, but he doesn’t give a smile to go along with them.

  “I didn’t think so,” I say as I make my way past him.

  “Lottie?”

  It takes everything in me to turn back around and face him.

  “I just want you to know that I’ll give you all the space in the world.” His Adam’s apple rises and falls. “I’m just hopeful it’ll lead back to me one day.”

  My heart aches as I look to him, this gorgeous man I would have happily married a couple of months ago. “Maybe it will, Noah,” I say as I take off for the hall next door.

  Noah may have crushed my heart, but he very much still has it.

  Now to figure out how to get myself back to that creepy cult and enlighten myself on how in the world a character like Twila Omega had any connection to sweet Rhonda.

  It doesn’t make any sense.

  But few things do in a homicide investigation.

  Chapter 33

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery has been the center of attention all day. Apparently, Greer Giles and her paranormal boy toy Winslow Decker are doing a fabulous job of terrorizing my mother’s B&B. A little too fabulous if you ask me. Tickets for the Haunted Honey Hollow B&B Tour are sold out straight through June, and there are rumors of a Halloween spectacular already in the making.

  “Two New York cheesecakes.” Mom smiles at me from across the counter with her nose wrinkling in that endearing way it does when she’s ogling me as if I were a six-year-old with pigtails.

  “Coming right up.” I look to her BFF standing by her side, Chrissy Nash. Mom and Chrissy share the same ashen blonde shoulder-length hair and the same sparkling blue eyes. They could pass as sisters. “Anything for you?”

  “I’ll have the same, but just one for me. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have your cheesecake bites at the Bonnet Festival. We’ve secured a band to play during the egg hunt, and I’ve got Margo and Mannford from next door to cater the event.”

  “Wow, I look forward to stuffing my face already.” Margo and Mannford are New York transplants themselves, and they happen to be the head chefs at the Honey Pot Diner next door.

  Lily brings the cheesecakes out for me, already boxed, and I slide them across the counter. My mother quickly shoves a wad of bills into the tip jar because she knows I would never think to charge her—and I keep forgetting to hide that tip jar every time she walks in.

  Chrissy leans in. “How much do I owe you?”

  “This one’s on me. You did secure the Bonnet Festival for me, and that’s a big one. I feel a great deal of responsibility knowing I’m providing all of the sweet treats for the big day. And I won’t let you down, I promise.”

  Chrissy waves it off. “Oh, I know you won’t.”

  The tourists begin to drain from the bakery as they filter back out onto Main Street.

  “Mother,” I hiss without meaning to. “You really need to slow down with the tours of terror. You’re going to frighten your customers away.”

  She shakes her head emphatically. “Lottie, the B&B is doing wonderfully. The bedchamber of horrors and the spine-chilling cubicle are booked solid through the rest of the year.”

  “Spine-chilling cubicle, really?”

  Her upper lip twitches. “I couldn’t think up another cutesy name. But if you’ve got any, I have plenty of room to gift a nickname. I’m having Bear make a sign for each of them. It’s going to be so fantastic.”

  “It’s going to be something.”

  “We’ll see you on Sunday.” She leans over the counter and gives me a quick peck on the cheek, and her rose-scented perfume feels like a hug. I’ve known that scent as long as I’ve known my mother. It’s always been her calling card, entering the room before she ever gets there. Her phone bleats in her hand, and she jumps. “It’s Rich.” She grimaces. “I was having so much fun with Chrissy that I forgot the last two check-ins.” Her fingers frantically peck away at her phone.

  Chrissy chortles as she looks over my mother’s shoulder. “You kids really are in love.”

  “They’re in something,” I mumble. I do not like, nor do I approve of Rich Dallas and his ultra-controlling ways. How has my mother not managed to ditch him just yet? Her relationships usually expire about the six-week juncture. And Rich Dallas has greatly overstayed his welcome.

  “There.” My mother drops her phone into her purse before picking up the cheesecakes. “Whew.”

  “Is everything okay?” At this point it would be negligent of me not to ask.

  “Oh, I’m in trouble, all right.” She gives a sultry wink toward Chrissy. “Lots and lots of delicious trouble.”

  “Goodbye, Lottie,” they sing in unison. Meg steps in, and Mom smacks her with a kiss on her way out the door.

  I turn to Lily. “Thank you for closing for me tonight.”

  “So, where’s this hot date you’re taking with Essex?” Her cheek flickers with disapproval. Lily and Everett dated on and off for a while, and I might have rubbed my impending night out in her face just a bit. I couldn’t help it. She all but gloated every time she spent an ounce of time with him. And it’s important to note that most of the time she spent with Everett was on her back.

  A brief visual of me lying on his mattress, his bare chest hovering over mine blinks through my mind, and I gasp.

  “What’s the matter?” Lily gasps right back. “Don’t tell me you forgot. Nobody forgets a date wi
th Essex Baxter.”

  How I hate the way she grinds my nose into his formal name. Everyone knows only women who Everett has conquered are invited to call him by his proper moniker. I haven’t encountered that honor just yet.

  Just yet?

  Before I can contemplate sleeping with Everett for another second, both Keelie and Meg crop up.

  Lily leans in. “She’s about to tell me where she’s headed with Essex tonight.”

  Meg gurgles out a husky laugh. “Mr. Sexy? Honey, there’s only one place to head with that hunk of burning testosterone.”

  “Ooh”—Keelie squeals, her hair sprouting from the messy bun sitting on top of her head like a bubbling blonde fountain—“maybe he’s going to give her a green gown?”

  I inch back a notch. “Why would Everett give me a green dress? Come to think of it, the right shade of green really does bring out my eyes.”

  The three of them break out into wild cackles.

  “Hey? What’s so funny?”

  Keelie digs her pinkies into the corner of her eyes in an effort to dry up the tears. “To gift a green gown means he’s going to take you on the grass.”

  “Good grief.” My face heats fifty degrees at least, and I’m sure I’m lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “So, where are you going?” Keelie lands an elbow on the counter and nearly knocks over a cake stand. “His place or yours?”

  “Her place?” Meg scoffs. “And have Pancake and Waffles watch the pornographic action? They might actually attack. I’d hate to see a man like Everett lose a precious body part.”

  “I did shut the door with Noah.” A heavy feeling washes over me just thinking about him. I miss him, and I hate that. I hate that he’s married, and I hate that we’re apart. But I don’t hate my time with Everett. On the contrary—I’m darn glad about it.

  “I like open doors,” a deep voice rumbles from my right, and we find Everett himself standing tall, dark, dreamy, and steamy—and far too willing to discuss his open door policy.

  “Good, you’re here.” I take off my apron, snatch my purse from below the counter, and wave to Lily. “Don’t forget to put the cheesecake I just pulled out of the oven into the walk-in before you leave.”