“We followed you out,” he says, cradling my chin in his hand. “I saw her throw you into the trunk, and we jumped into your sister’s car. We tried to block her, but she sideswiped us. Meg is fine. She stayed back and called the sheriff for us. But I think her car needs some serious body work.”
“I don’t care, and she won’t either.”
He secures his hands over my cheeks. “I wasn’t going to lose you. There was no way I was going to lose sight of that car. You’re everything to me.” He pulls me in tightly, and I can feel his heart pounding over mine.
Ivy and Noah help Blythe to her feet.
“I guess it’s finally over.” Blythe looks to Ivy and Noah before casting a glance my way. “A part of me wanted this all to be over.”
They cart her off toward a boulder, and I hold Everett tightly as flashing lights and the howl of sirens migrate in this direction.
“You did it, Lemon.” Everett lands a gentle kiss to my forehead. “You took down another one.”
I look up at this handsome beast pressed against me. “I told Noah my secret. He was in the trunk with me, and Max showed up. I did my best to explain it all in a nutshell.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything, really. Just that if you can accept it, so can he. He hasn’t exactly had a moment to process it, let alone accept it.”
“He will.” Everett looks in Noah’s direction. “And I’m glad he knows. You’re a crime busting team. He needs to know all the important details in your life. And whether or not he likes it—I’m part of the team, too. You’re a part of my life, Lemon, in the very best way.”
“I concur. Now kiss me and make this entire day better.”
And he does.
Chapter 58
After a grueling hike to Everett’s car, under the duress of sporadic moonlight and a wobbly stray flashlight, we decide to head back to the art gallery rather than opting for home.
Noah received yet another frantic text from Cormack, this time stating that her head was on the chopping block, so he let Ivy take Blythe down to Ashford to be formally booked for Vanessa St. James’ murder.
I still can’t believe she did it. And I certainly believed Blythe when she denied sending those threats to Cormack, although a part of me wonders if we’ll ever know the truth.
The art gallery is still brimming with bodies clad in rustling taffeta and crisp tuxedos along with glittery masks of every shape and size. Laughter abounds in well-timed spurts, and the ceaseless chatter overrides the violin music filtering in through the speakers. I can’t help but note the refreshment tables are still well stocked with my mouthwatering lemon bars. At this point, all I want is to grab a dozen of those lemon custard treats and head home to my cats, maybe snuggle up by a fire, and read a book with some tea accessible at arm’s length. My feet are killing me in these emerald satin heels, and I have a pair of cozy chenille socks my mother gifted me last Christmas calling out my name.
“Hard right, Lemon,” Everett says, orienting me, and I crane my neck that way to find Clayton and Ryan laughing it up while knocking back drinks.
Noah jogs up and lands between Everett and me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll tackle them in a minute.”
I look up at him as my mouth falls open. “Do you think they were in on it?”
“I don’t think so. Not from what Blythe said when she confessed, but you never know. I’ll have to question them per protocol.”
Everett gives a wistful shake of the head. “They’ll lawyer up regardless. No doubt they have access to the best.”
Noah leans in. “Here she comes.”
Cormack scuttles over with Landon in toe, and Noah quickly ushers us all outside.
The night air has a chill to it, making me shiver under the cool fabric of my dress. Everett must sense this because he pulls off his coat and lands it over my shoulders, and instantly his warmth radiates through my body, heating me right down to my bones.
Noah glances over and frowns before leading us a few paces from the boisterous entry of the art center.
“What’s going on?” He sighs heavily to Cormack as he says it.
Both Cormack and Landon, her eerie twin in every capacity—sans the blonde hair and hot pink renaissance gowns, grovel up to Noah, begging him for protection, mewling away like starved kittens. Their masks are in hand, waving like glittery flags of surrender, and the entire display makes me want to vomit.
“Oh, it was horrible!” Cormack’s entire body bucks and writhes, her blonde curls spilling side to side with all of the drama of a damsel in distress in one of those black and white movies my mother used to find so charming. “Whoever it is stuffed this into my purse when I wasn’t looking!” She produces a tiny crumbled piece of paper. “Look, it says right here, your head will roll tonight!”
“I should be so lucky,” I mutter under my breath, sponsoring a stern yet equally inaudible Lemon from Everett.
Noah carefully removes a plastic bag from his pocket and encapsulates the note as the watermark at the top of the page catches my eye.
“Hey, that’s stationary from the B&B!” I say enthusiastically as I step in close. “And isn’t that where you’re staying?” I shake my head admonishingly at the so-called victim.
Cormack shrieks for seemingly no reason. “You mean to tell me not only is that place haunted, but there’s a killer on the loose? I’ll have my father shut down that hellhole by midnight for harboring felons and spooks alike.”
I can’t help but avert my eyes. “The only felon in there is you. Future felon, that is. You do realize that filing a false claim with the sheriff’s department not only eats up valuable resources, but costs the taxpayers a ton of money. You’ll be lucky if you’re not sued to the hilt by every resident in Ashford County, Honey Hollow included.” I dig a finger into her cushioned chest. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Once Noah turns in that final piece of evidence over to forensics, they’re going to crack this case wide open. They were just waiting for one more sliver of proof. And if they do name you as the prime suspect, you’re looking at a minimum of fifty years behind bars. Your accouterment choices will be whittled down to one—and you’ll be wearing orange in and out of season. The only manicure you’ll receive ever again will be at the hands of a woman named Butch, and she won’t take Daddy’s credit card, if you know what I mean. They’ll take your phone, your yoga instructor, your masseuse, your TV psychic, and your barista away—i.e., your freedom. But if you confess right now to doing all this yourself in hopes to keep Noah on tab twenty-four hours a day, you’ll be absolved of all charges.” Of course, everything I just shouted out into the dark expanse was completely fabricated out of my own imagination, but I couldn’t help it. I’ve had enough of Cormack and her falsified histrionics.
Cormack’s entire body seizes as her hands shake and shiver. Her tiny pink clutch flies into the air, and I catch it. Without thinking, I try to open the tiny box.
“Wait a minute,” I say, looking over at the two sisters. “This tiny hard-shelled case is practically bolted shut.” I struggle to open it once again, and Everett carefully takes it from me and pops the top on it.
“That wasn’t easy.” Everett looks over to Cormack. “Did you set this down at any point in the night?”
“Are you kidding?” She snatches it back and snaps it closed once again, and it sounds like a gunshot. “That’s a ten thousand dollar Famaguci. You don’t leave this lying around willy-nilly. I let Landon hold it while I went to the ladies’ room.”
All eyes shift to her wide-eyed little sister.
Landon’s mouth opens and closes. “Oh my God, I did it.” She clutches onto Cormack as tears spout from her eyes, airborne just the way they do in cartoons. “Please don’t let them take my freedom! If I don’t do yoga on the veranda at sunrise, my skin begins to dehydrate, and I’ll be reptilian by fall! Oh, please don’t let them take me!” Her voice wails into the night as Cormack pluck
s her off.
“Landon Stout Featherby!”
Dear Lord, the name of all names. Those rich folk really know how to pin a crazy moniker on a kid at birth.
Noah rocks back on his heels. “Landon, you did this? Why?”
Landon’s watery green eyes blink up at him. Her mouth widens in horror. “For you—for her. Don’t you see? Cormack wants you. Cormack always gets the things she wants. And for whatever reason, you’re not complying. I was just trying to give you a push in the right direction. After I saw you blowing her off the day Nessa was killed, I thought maybe I could piggyback off her death and you’d think the killer was after my sister as well. Don’t you care about her? Don’t you want to keep her safe? How many threats was it going to take for you to see what a wonderful person my sister really is?”
“I’m speechless,” I say while choking on my next words. “The one thing you can’t buy is love, so you thought you’d do the very next best thing—scare someone into loving your sister.”
Noah holds a hand up. “Landon, I do care about your sister. I care about her deeply.” And there it is, another knife in my chest gifted by none other than Noah Corbin Fox. “But my heart belongs to someone else.”
Cormack scoffs. “Please. Britney is all about control. And if you want to be commandeered for the rest of your life, be my guest.”
“I don’t,” he says sharply. “And I wasn’t talking about Brit. I was talking about Lottie.” His eyes soften as he looks my way a moment. “Landon?” He’s right back to being annoyed. “Did you send Lottie a threat, too?”
“No way, no how.” She lifts both hands in the air in protest, and suddenly Cormack looks as if she’s eyeing the parking lot as an escape route.
“I knew it! You’re both a couple of spoiled little brats.” I lean in dangerously close, and Cormack nearly falls over trying to get away from me. “You sent that stupid note, didn’t you?”
“You left me no choice!” She nearly bites my nose off as she snipes the words my way. “You kept accusing me of writing them myself,” she huffs over at Noah. “And you didn’t exactly step up the way we had hoped.”
“We?” Everett charges her with the malfeasance with simply one look.
Cormack lets out a bloodcurdling aarggh. “Fine. I caught on the other day. But I was not entirely pleased with this.” She growls over at her sister before looking pleadingly up at Noah. “Please don’t take us in. I swear, I was going to end this charade tonight—after this one last little threat.” She gives a little wink as if maybe she wouldn’t have.
Everett growls, “You had no right to disturb someone else’s state of mind. You were both way out of line. And if you can’t see what you’ve done is very, very wrong—maybe you are a couple of spoiled brats.”
The two of them suck in a lungful of air, horrified that the honorable judge among us has come to such an accurate conclusion.
Noah smacks his lips with disdain. “Everett, why don’t you get Lottie home? I’m taking the girls down to Ashford.”
He herds the two of them off toward the parking lot, much to their hysterical protest.
“Throw the book at them,” I shout as Everett chuckles.
“You and I both know he’s not throwing the book at them. What do you suggest their punishment be? I’ll be sure to implement it.”
“Community service? The B&B could use a little sprucing up. My mother’s flowerbeds are in need of freshening. I think maybe getting some dirt under their fingernails might be good for them.”
Everett’s chest expands the size of a football field. “Consider it done.”
I wrap an arm around him and pull him in as we watch Noah stuff them into his truck.
A cool breeze licks by as I tip my head up at Everett. “I hear manure is the best fertilizer. Make sure they’re knee-deep in it just as literally as they have been figuratively.”
Everett twitches his brows as we head for the parking lot ourselves.
“You know, I never did make it to the courthouse for our date in your chambers.” I reach up and give his tie a playful tug.
“Make it soon.” He pulls me close with a rumble in his chest. “And it can’t be soon enough.”
“I think I’ll surprise you. I sort of like catching you off guard.”
“You never cease to surprise me, that’s for sure.” He pauses to look at me, his eyes stealing a moment to study my features. “You cracked another case, Lemon. You did good.” His muscles tense as if there was more to say.
“Why do I feel a but coming on?”
“But I don’t want you rolling around in anyone’s trunk ever again.”
“I can’t promise you that.”
“I know.” He lands a gentle kiss to the top of my forehead. “And that is the only thing that scares me.”
Chapter 59
A few nights later, in light of the horrific events that unfolded at the B&B a few weeks back, my mother has decided to host a christening for the conservatory to rid it of all the bad juju before Lainey’s bridal shower.
Everyone has shown up this evening. Keelie, Naomi, Becca, and both Noah and Everett are here standing behind me as I line up with my sisters, Lainey and Meg. Even Cormack and Landon have bothered to make a guest appearance after a hard day in my mother’s garden. Their fingers clasp over their champagne flutes as I spy their matching newly acquired gardener’s manicure. They look equally agitated and fatigued beyond measure.
Both Noah and Everett gave them a good talking to, and I’m fairly certain that’s the extent of their legal ramifications. Cormack is very fortunate to have a longstanding history with both the lead detective in her case and the judge who perhaps wouldn’t have been so kind otherwise. And as it turns out, Clayton and Ryan were cleared of any wrongdoing. It was truly just Blythe who was guilty of killing Vanessa St. James. Clayton and Ryan concocted that lie about the gardener in an effort to put their friends at ease the night of the masquerade. Oddly enough, it seemed to work. The art center raised more money that night than it has all year.
I startle back to reality as my eyes stray into the small crowd gathered in the conservatory. Even Britney has made her presence known this evening by hanging all over Noah’s shoulder—and legally, she has every right to that shoulder and the rest of him, too.
“And on this great day”—Mom holds a glass of sparkling cider high in the air, and the small crowd mimics her action—“I’ve asked my very good friend, Mayor Harry Nash, to do the honors for me.” There’s a gleam in her eyes as she looks to the conservatively handsome fellow before her.
Rich Dallas clenches his teeth. His face pinches red in an instant, the color of an angry fire.
Meg—who I have not stopped apologizing to about her dented car—leans in toward Lainey and me. “Ten bucks says he pops like a piñata the next time Mom just so happens to touch Mayor Nash.”
Lainey makes a face. “She has been awful touchy-feely this evening.”
My lips twist over at Miranda Lemon with her best friend, Chrissy Nash, standing dutifully by her side.
“I still think she’s breaking girl code by making a play for her bestie’s ex.” I can’t help but cringe over at Carlotta who seems to be doing her darnedest to catch Rich Dallas’ eyes, but he’s not falling for it. “Poor Carlotta hasn’t exactly been successful in stealing away Mom’s man.”
“What?” Lainey squawks.
Meg shakes her head. “Don’t worry. It was a poorly hatched plan by our harebrained mother. She needs to leave this to the pros. Mark my words. In less than a month, that man won’t be able to get within feet of our mother.”
“What makes you think that?” I ask. “He’s got her surrounded like a psychotic Fort Knox. He’s not going anywhere.”
Meg shudders. “I don’t know. I just have a feeling. It’s not a good one either.”
Lainey sucks in a quick breath. “You think Rich is going to off her, don’t you?”
Meg growls as if that’s exactly what she was th
inking.
“Meg”—I spin her close by the crook of her elbow—“do you think Mom is in danger?” Honestly, it sounds like a rather stupid question as it streams from my lips. Obviously, Rich is one sandwich short of a picnic, but a killer? God help us all.
“I don’t know.” My sister doesn’t take her lucent blue eyes off of them. “But something sinister is hovering over Honey Hollow. That much I know is true.”
Mayor Nash clears his throat. “To Honey Hollow’s premier haunted B&B. May it be filled with prosperity and poltergeists long into the future—and may this beautiful conservatory be its crowning jewel forever more. And a special toast to the feisty woman who commandeers this place like the stunning little nugget she is. May you continue to find favor with the fine people of Honey Hollow and tourists alike.”
He picks up her hand and gently kisses the back of it as the crowd breaks out into cheers. And all the while, Rich Dallas seethes and vibrates by her side like a malfunctioning motor ready to detonate into a pile of useless shrapnel.
Mom lifts a hand to the excitable crowd. “And don’t forget to vote Mayor Nash for reelection in just a couple of weeks! As the number one volunteer of his campaign league, be forewarned I’ll be staking a sign in each of your yards bright and early tomorrow morning!”
A light round of laughter encircles the room.
I spot Carlotta chattering away with Greer Giles and Winslow Decker, and I turn back to Noah and Everett and excuse myself momentarily.
Carlotta glowers my way as I come upon her.
She leans in. “You do realize that I don’t take rejection lightly.”
“Says the woman who dropped me to the floor of a firehouse on her way out of town.”
Greer leans in. “That was cold, Carlotta.”
My bio mother rolls her eyes at the thought. “She was swaddled in a blanket, and I watched from across the street as Joseph Lemon scooped her up into his arms. She had him wrapped around his finger before he ever got a look at her cute little face, and speaking of faces—I’m difficult to resist. I’ve taken offense to Rich Dallas and his aggressive rebuffing tactics.”
Murder in the Mix Box Set Page 50
