Murder in the Mix Books 1-3 (Murder in the Mix Boxed Set)

by Addison Moore

  Keelie nudges me with her elbow. “She said cakery. I think she added that part.”

  “I know,” I whisper back, amused. “But you know what? It works, and I think I really like it. I know I do. And this way, it’s both Nell and me who got to name it.” I melt at the thought of something so sweet transpiring so organically.

  “So, everyone”—Nell cries out—“enjoy the food, enjoy all the season has to bring, and most of all, enjoy each other. As we have tragically seen, this life and all it has to offer can be all too short.” Nell wraps up her speech by way of lifting her cider, and the room does the same before breaking out into applause.

  Keelie tugs at my arm. “Come on. Let’s go next door and see this wonder that our grandmother has bestowed upon you.” She gives a cheeky wink of her own because she would love nothing more than to have me as a genuine part of the family and, in a way that supersedes blood, we already are.

  Noah, Everett, and I stroll next door with her and look into the oversized windows as Bear and Hunter put the finishing touches on what will soon be my second home. Who am I kidding? It will be my true home. The place my heart will be happiest and at true rest, baking. The autumn chill arrests us with its icy fingers as the maple leaves race over to our feet in colors of ruby and carrot, the colors of bittersweet wine.

  Hunter gives a quick wave and slaps Bear over the shoulder as he points our way before both men come out to join us.

  Hunter grins, looking every bit like his cousin in the process. “You ready to throw a party once this place opens up for business?”

  “A party?” I startle at the thought.

  “Yup,” Bear agrees with his cousin with a nod. “You need to christen this place with friends and family. I accept a full brownie bar in my honor.” That ear-to-ear grin of his blooms once again, and something in me finds Bear a little more tolerable than I ever have before. I suppose since today is a day of forgiveness, and moving on from the past—well, I choose to do just that between Bear and me and let go of all of my emotional grievances against him.

  I look to Everett and Noah, and they both give a thumbs-up at the idea of a party.

  “I guess I’ll be having a grand opening!” I look to Bear. “And I will most certainly have Bear’s Brownie Bar open for one and all. I can’t thank you enough for making this project a priority.”

  Keelie grasps my hand a moment. “And Nell for greasing his Bear claw.”

  “Nell for sure,” I say as Noah wraps his arms around me from behind, and I lean against him, the two of us looking into the bakery as if we could see the future and all of the delicious things it holds for us.

  Keelie presses a hand against the glass. “We’re going to kill it.”

  A small laugh breaks out as Bear and Hunter head back in and get to work once again.

  Keelie sighs. “Okay, so in light of everything that’s transpired, I will definitely rethink my language.” She looks to me and winks. “But you are going to slay this town with this bakery and don’t you for a minute doubt yourself. Best of all, I get to see you do it. Front row seats right here at the Honey Pot.” She gives a wave of the fingertips before skipping off next door once again.

  Everett gives a slight bow my way. “Lemon, I can’t wait for the invite. I know you’ll do this town proud.” He takes in an enormous breath as he looks to Noah. “Thank you for sharing with me what you’ve done. I won’t spoil the surprise. It looks as if Noah Fox is one of the good guys after all.” Everett pins his gaze to mine once again and holds it there. His blue eyes exude an unspoken sadness, a touch of grief that transports from him to me. “You’re a pretty great person yourself, Lemon.” He takes off for the Honey Pot, and we watch until the door closes behind him.

  I spin around in Noah’s arms and look up at this handsome man who crashed through the ceiling of my life and somehow became an important fixture in it.

  “What’s the surprise? Am I getting a surprise?” My mouth opens with a smile. Noah has been one surprise after the next ever since I became aware of his existence.

  “In a strange way, I’ve already given it to you.” His shoulders bounce, making him look both vexingly sexy and humble all at the same time. “Turn around.”

  I spin in his arms once again, and he tightens his hold over me, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Remember that day you blew into my office like a hurricane and kindly asked for a loan for kitchen equipment?”

  “How can I forget? My ego is still bruised from the effort,” I tease. “I’d like to think it were fate or kismet that the loan department needed an overhaul. Because if it didn’t, I probably wouldn’t have you in my life.”

  “Well, that might be true. And you might have had to find another way to get your kitchen appliances.”

  I turn back around, completely baffled. “Meaning?”

  He winces as if what came next was almost painful to admit. “Meaning I gave you the loan. But it’s not a loan. It’s a gift from me to you.”

  “What?” I try to take a step back, but he’s still holding me tight. “Did you give Nell the money to buy the appliances? I’m sorry. I’m so confused. You lost me.”

  “The truth is, I asked Nell to keep it a secret. You see, I had come into some money not long after my father had died. It was a sizeable sum, but I didn’t want any of it. It was mostly money that he pilfered and conned other people out of, even though my father was a shrewd businessman in his own right. Nevertheless, I tried my hardest to give back what he took from my stepmother, but she wouldn’t have it. That’s when I had an idea. I gave you the money, Lottie. I didn’t see a reason your dream should be delayed, and this way you don’t have the burden of a loan. And it’s not a loan. It’s a gift, Lottie. I wanted you to have it. I hope it brings you many years of happiness.”

  “Noah,” I whisper, unable to catch my breath. “I don’t know what to say.” I shake my head, my gaze unable to break from his. “This is unbelievable. Are you sure you want me to have that much of your father’s estate? Maybe we can set up a payment schedule, and as soon as possible I can start paying you back.”

  “No.” He laughs at the thought. “That, I will not allow. It’s simply yours. Enjoy it. I spoke to Everett about it afterwards, and he agreed it was best.”

  Tears come to my eyes as I take him in. “Well then. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are just as gorgeous of a man on the inside as you are on the outside, and I feel privileged and humbled by your decision.” I bite down on my lower lip. “I think this qualifies you for free sweets for life.” I hike my shoulder up at him. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “In that case, I guess my answer is yes.”

  “Good.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “And I hope the answer to the next question is yes as well. Kiss me?”

  His whole face erupts into a greedy grin. “Always a yes to that, Lottie Lemon.”

  Noah’s lips fall to mine, and we indulge in another act of sinfully delicious affection, this time with far more attention to the tasks at hand. Noah Fox and his superhuman lips melt me in the most spectacular way. My head spins from the dizzying effect, and it feels as if he’s holding me up to keep me from slipping away from existence entirely. Noah and I are just at the beginning of what could be something special, and it will be no matter what happens next.

  There is so much hope, so much more to do and see in Honey Hollow. A grand opening for the bakery and all of the Halloween and fall festivities that October brings are almost upon us.

  For once everything in my life seems to be headed in the right direction, moving at a perfectly arced trajectory toward the mark of a beautiful, beautiful future.

  For the life of me, I can’t imagine what could possibly go wrong.

  Acknowledgments

  A HUGE and hearty thank you to YOU, the reader, for diving into this new adventure with me. I hope you loved and adored Lottie and all of the Honey Hollow peeps as much as I did! This series has a very special place in my dark and twis
ted heart. I hope you’ll join me on the next leg of the MURDER IN THE MIX adventure for more mayhem and mischief!

  A spectacular thank you to Jodie Tarleton for blessing this book with your extraterrestrial vision. You really have an extraordinary knack, and without you this book would not be the same. You are my angel!

  Thank you to the fabulous Kaila Eileen Turingan-Ramos, who brings it each and every time! You are a true ninja warrior with whom no missing word can contend. Love you!

  A big, beautiful thank you to the sweetest of the sweet, Shay Rivera, for beta reading and pointing things out that I would never have seen without you. I know you will do amazing things in this wonderful life. You are a brilliant soul, and I am honored to know you!

  Gushing running hugs to Lisa Markson. You’re my safe place, and you know it.

  To the real Keelie, thank you for sharing your beautiful presence with me and your beautiful name. I look forward to sharing real adventures with you.

  All of my love and thanks to my amazing sister, Paige Maroney Smith, who is fierce and lovely and wise. You are truly family to me. A simple thank you is not enough for what you do. I love you!

  And last, but never least, thank you to Him who sits on the throne. Worthy is the Lamb! Glory and honor and power are yours. I owe you everything.

  Bobbing for Bodies

  Murder in the Mix Mystery #2

  Addison Moore

  Copyright © 2018 by Addison Moore

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2018 by Addison Moore

  Created with Vellum

  Book Description

  My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead pets. Okay, so I see dead people on occasion, too, but it’s mostly sweet, fuzzy, long-departed cuties that I see clinging by their previous owner’s side. Trust me when I say this is not a good sign. So, when I spot an adorable, fuzzy, little squirrel skipping around at the grand opening for my new bakery, I about lose it, until I realize it’s a perky little poltergeist only visible to yours truly. But there are so many people at the grand opening it’s hard to discern who exactly might be in danger—that is, until I follow the little creature right out the back and straight into another homicide. It’s horrible to see your friend lying there vacant of life. Honey Hollow will never be the same.

  Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see dead pets—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.

  Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.

  Chapter 18

  I see dead people.

  It’s true. I do see dead people on occasion, but it’s mostly long-deceased pets that hop over from the other side to say hello—and, believe me, it’s never a good sign for whoever they’ve come to greet. But, at the moment, I’m not looking at a ghastly phantasm. No, this is no ghost, and as much as I hate to admit it, she very much feels like a harbinger of ominous things to come.

  The tiny metal newsstand that sits in front of the Honey Pot Diner has Merilee Simonson’s face staring back at me from behind the glass. It was just last month that Honey Hollow had its very first homicide, and I was unlucky enough to discover the body. Merilee, my old landlord, was even unluckier to be the body.

  I shake all thoughts of that hairy scary day out of my mind as I step out into the street to admire the newly minted bakery which Nell, my best friend’s grandmother and my boss by proxy, has put me in charge of.

  “The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery,” I whisper as I take in the beauty of the divine little shop that I’ve gleefully been holing up in the last week solid while baking up a storm for today’s grand opening. It’s the beginning of October, and autumn is showing off all of its glory in our little corner of Vermont. Honey Hollow is famous for its majestic thickets of ruby maples, liquid ambers, and bright yellow birch trees—all of the above with leaves in every color of the citrine rainbow. The sweet scent of cinnamon rolls baking, heady vanilla, and the thick scent of robust coffee permeate all of Main Street, incapacitating residents and tourists alike, forcing them to stagger down toward the bakery in a hypnotic state. I’m pretty sure I won’t need business cards to pull in the masses. I’ll opt for the olfactory takedown every single time. Not even the heavy fog that is rolling down the street this morning has the power to subdue those heavenly scents.

  Hunter, my notorious ex-boyfriend’s cousin, stretches to life as he stands from where he was crouching by the entry. Bear and Hunter have been working out in front for the last three days trying to repair cracks in the wall that divides this place from Nell’s original restaurant, the Honey Pot Diner. Inside, a nice opening has been made in the south-facing wall so that patrons of both establishments can meander from place to place. And I’m glad about it, too. I’ve been a baker at the Honey Pot for so long I would have missed seeing the inner workings of it daily even though it is right next door. Not to mention the fact my best friend, Keelie, is the manager at the Honey Pot, so this guarantees I’ll still see her smiling face each and every morning.

  Hunter strides over and rests his elbow over my shoulder as we take in the sight together.

  “Don’t forget that part,” he says, pointing to the smaller sign below the words I just read. “Fine confections, gourmet coffee, and more!” he reads it just as enthusiastically as the exclamation point suggests.

  We share a little laugh, never taking our eyes off the place. Otis Bear Fisher—the aforementioned and somewhat infamous ex—and Hunter spent all last week getting the furniture for the bakery painted in every shade of pastel. Bear bought out all of the chairs and café tables he could find at his friend’s chain of secondhand stores, and the end result is so sweet and cozy it’s hard for me to leave this place at night.

  “Thank you for all your hard work,” I say, looking up at Bear’s lookalike cousin. After Bear shattered my heart into shards as if it were a haunted mirror, it was Hunter who offered up his support and suggested I leave town for a bit to clear my head. I took his advice and hightailed it to New York—Columbia University to be exact—and, well, let’s just say my heart was shattered ten times harder in the big city than it ever was in Honey Hollow. “You know, I’ve probably never said this before, but thank you for your friendship, too.” I can’t help but sniff back tears. “You really have been a rock in my life. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you sooner.” I offer a quick embrace to the surly blonde with the body of a brick building. Both Bear and Hunter look as if they’re primed to be lumberjacks with their tree-like muscles, but lucky for me their chosen profession just so happens to be construction.

  “Whoa, easy, Lottie. Don’t shed a single tear for me.” He laughs at the thought. “I know this day is an emotional one for you. This bakery has been your destiny for as long as I can remember.” He nods back to the place where his tools are strewn all over the sidewalk just under the scaffolding he’s had set up for days to assist him in the exhausting effort. “Let me clean this mess up so you can get your party started.” He jogs back to the sprawl of tools, and I quickly follow him under the canopy of this skeletal st
ructure.

  “It’s not bad luck to stand under a scaffolding, is it?” I tease. I’ll admit, my nerves are slightly jangled just thinking about the festivities about to ensue.

  He barks out a short-lived laugh. “Nope, that would be a ladder. But you’re not allowed to have any bad luck, period. This is your big day, Lottie Lemon, and I promise you not one thing will go wrong.” He gives a playful wink, and something about that facial disclaimer sends me in a jittery panic ten times more than before. He winces. “I think I left something out back.”

  Hunter takes off, and no sooner does he leave than I press my hand to the window of the bakery, a no-no as far as Keelie is concerned. She’s been helping me scrub and scour every inch of this place to get it ready for its big debut, but I’ll gladly wipe away my own fingerprints in a moment just to garner one more look inside before we open. It’s all there—the café tables and chairs look as sweet as confections themselves, the refrigerated shelves that line the front are fully stocked and loaded with every cookie, brownie, and delicious dessert you can think of, and the walls are painted a decadent shade of butter yellow. My sister, Lainey, came by yesterday to help me decorate the place for Halloween with ghosts, witches, and scarecrows set in every free space. Autumn leaves carefully line the counters, and tiny orange pumpkins dot each table with gold and red maple leaves blooming out from underneath them. To think that in just a few short hours this place will be filled with family and friends—with Everett and Noah. Noah who—

  A horrible creaking sound comes from the scaffolding above me, and I look up in time to see the gargantuan structure rocking back and forth. My entire body freezes solid as it careens toward me, and before I know it, I’m hit from behind by a warm body, pushed to safety as the entire scaffolding crashes into a pile of dust. That metal newspaper stand is lying on its side, and Merilee’s grinning face is staring back up at me in replicate.