“She was dating someone who works construction,” I add.
He shakes his head, that dead look on his face lets me know I’ve hit another bump in the road with far too many options to choose from.
“He was from Honey Hollow,” I shout the words just as the music hits a lull, and someone from the back whoops Honey Hollow right back.
The bartender’s mouth opens as he cocks a squinted eye to the ceiling. “Yeah, I know of one.”
Lainey comes up and gives my sleeve a quick tug. “The girls and I want to go. We gave you your five minutes, and they were up ten minutes ago. Collette is threatening me with kidnapping if I don’t get back on the road soon.”
I avert my eyes at the thought. I knew bringing Collette and Naomi along would be a big mistake, but then I reasoned it might work out if we were surrounded with a tough crowd. That way we’d have someone to feed them while the rest of us made our escape. Besides, Naomi and Collette have the power to scare off any thug who has the nerve to mess with us.
“Five more minutes, I swear. I’m just getting to the good part!” I hiss before turning back to my tatted-up friend. “What’s the girl’s name?”
“Stella.” He nods to the stage. “That’s her up front.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I spin on my heels. There are at least six women on stage, each one wiggling and jiggling to the soothing sounds of a slow song that’s currently melting over the speakers. The girls all look too beautiful to be real with their long, glossy hair, their showy curves, those sparkly pasties catching the light and arresting our vision. Then I see her. A woman with long, dark, wavy hair and long, thick lashes, and a familiar deep red lipstick that makes me suck in a lungful of stale French fried scented air.
“It’s her,” I hiss, and Lainey pulls me over to our table.
“Her who?”
“The girl from Hunter’s funeral. I think I just found out who Hunter’s mystery girlfriend was.”
“Which one?” Naomi looks bored as she stares at the scandalous show before us.
“The girl up front—dark hair, purple pasties.” I guess I do have a lot to be thankful for when I realize that no one will ever point me out in a crowd by way of the color of my nipple coverings.
“That’s Sparkling Cider.” Keelie gives a mean whoop her way. “You want me to make it rain over her? I’ve got some serious cash burning a hole in my pocket and not a lot of prospects.”
“No,” both Collette and I say at once.
I glance to the irate redhead who looks as if she’s itching to bolt.
Collette sneers at Keelie. “Save the dinero. There’s a place down the street called The Ladies Lounge and, trust me, there’s not a purple pasty in the place. I wouldn’t lead you astray, unlike some people.” She takes a moment to glare my way. “And what would Everett think if he knew this was the kind of place you preferred to frequent?” Her lips twitch with a malevolent smile. “I’m pretty sure that would take you out of the running to fill his heart.”
“Believe me, that man is not looking to fill his heart.” It’s yet to be determined that he has one. “And, fine, we’ll leave—but not before I see the end of Sparkling Cider’s act. As soon as she steps off that stage, I’m going to ask her a question.”
I know for a fact once the girls are through they trot down and mingle with the masses. I’m betting those personal lap dances are where they make the real money. I can’t imagine Hunter frequenting this place, but I know both he and Bear have amassed some serious frequent flyer miles at places just like this. For a second I envision Noah seated in some secluded booth and Sparkling Cider shaking her baby maker in his face. My stomach sours at the thought.
The girls finish up their tantalizing tease, leaving their G-strings and pasties right where they belong, and that alone makes me want to tip them. All six of them make their way down the stairs to the left of the stage, and a raucous rock song starts in and another set of temptresses in hot pink satin robes strut out as if they were about to teach us all a lesson.
“We’re out,” Naomi knocks back the rest of her drink before pulling Keelie to her feet.
Lainey and I stand, as does Collette, but Collette isn’t putting on her coat just yet. She’s grinning ear to ear at something behind me.
I turn my neck just enough before doing a double take.
“Oh God,” I whimper under my breath. For the life of me I just can’t catch a break.
Striding our way, shoulders back, clad in his signature sexy suit, those piercing blue eyes of his slotted to angry slits is a stone cold, chest wide as a linebacker judgmental Judge Baxter.
“Everett.” I try to sound cheery as if this were any other venue I might have bumped into him in. “You’re looking grand tonight. Have a pocketful of Benjamins just begging for a pair of panties to stuff themselves into?” I couldn’t help it. He so had it coming.
The good judge doesn’t so much as a flinch. “What are you doing here, Lemon? When Collette mentioned you dragged her off to a strip club, I didn’t believe her.”
Collette wastes no time in snuggling up next to him, doing the worm over the left side of his body, but Everett doesn’t even notice. “That’s right. I sent him a picture of you loading up at the bar. Can you believe it?” She cackles into his ear. “Honey Hollows not-so-sweet baker showing her true colors. And, as it turns out, there’s a rainbow involved.”
“Oh stop.” I lunge at her and she’s quick to cower.
“All right.” Lainey holds up a hand. “Let’s get to The Ladies Lounge and banana hammock it up. It’s almost my bedtime.”
“I’m not going.” I do a quick scan of the room and spot Sparkling Cider bouncing on the lap of some mussed hair businessman. “There’s someone I need to talk to. I have unfinished business, and I’m getting to the bottom of it.” My God, this might just be the most unhygienic conversation I’ve had with a person yet.
“I’ll be with her.” Everett nods to Lainey. “And I’ll give her a ride back,” he says it stern my way. And why does it sound like I’m about to be punished? “We have an unfinished conversation of our own we need to tend to.”
My entire body seizes. I’m not sure which is worse: grilling a stripper about her dead boyfriend or diving into the deep end of dead pets with Everett.
Lainey, Naomi, and a seething mad Collette pluck a whooping Keelie from climbing on stage and hit the door for far more testosterone-laden pastures.
It’s just Everett and I glaring at one another.
The glint of a purple pasty hits my eye, and I gasp.
“Here she comes.” I wave over at her, and she struts on over with those long doe eyelashes tipped with glitter, those ruby red lips looking at Everett as if she too were ready and willing to take a bite out of his neck.
She moans as she caresses his tie, “You need a lap dance, big boy?” She bites down on her lip while her just about naked girls smash over Everett’s steely abs. And really? Why does this feel as if I’m in a bad nightmare that’s about to get porny?
“Actually, it’s me that called you here.”
Gone in an instant is that gleam in her eye as she inspects me head to foot. “Fine. Take a seat on the chair.”
I do as I’m told, and before I know it, her backside is bouncing in my face and I try my hardest to slap her away.
Everett averts his eyes as he helps the poor girl off.
“I don’t think she really wants to play the bongos.” His demeanor is downright serious as he pulls out a seat for the girl. “You’re up, Lemon.”
Sparkling Cider looks as if she’s about to lose her effervescence and hightail it over to the bar, so I get right to the chase.
“Hunter Fisher has a message for you.” My entire body spikes with heat at the lie.
Her mouth falls open, and she jumps in her seat. “But—but Hunter’s dead.”
Ah-ha! So she does know him!
“Yes, he is, unfortunately. But before he died, he asked me to give
someone he was seeing at Girls Unlimited a message.”
“That’s me!” Her eyes expand to the size of silver dollars. “What is it? Am I in his will?”
My gut wrenches at the thought of poor Hunter having a will at such a young age.
“Um—” I glance to Everett, completely unaware of where to go next with this.
Everett takes in a deep breath, and she looks his way, practically drooling over how wide that man’s chest can get in a single lungful.
“Hunter had a certificate of deposit made out for you, but it was damaged and it can’t be replaced. His attorney offers his apologies but—”
“That stupid, stupid idiot. Screwing up finances right up until the end.” Her eyes gloss over with tears, and as upset as I am that she was calling him names, I can tell she cared a lot about him. Or the money. It’s debatable at this point.
“I agree.” I shrug over at her. “Hunter was always broke, and I couldn’t figure out why. He mentioned something about you having a kid. A boy, right?” Just a wild guess. The worst she could do is correct me, considering it’s a fifty-fifty split.
Stella freezes stiff. Her eyes slit to nothing as she looks past me out into some unknowable horizon. “I prefer to leave my son out of this.” The music dies down as the applause picks up and Stella rises out of her seat. “Besides, I don’t need anything else from Hunter.” She hightails it into the crowd before disappearing into the back.
“That was abrupt.” Everett helps me out of my seat.
“I agree. You know that underground source you used to help us find Martinelle Finance? Do me a favor and have them find out everything there is to know about Sparkling Cider, aka Stella. I have a feeling that’s not the last we’ll see of her yet.”
“Will do,” he says as he steps in close. That towering presence of his makes me feel about as big as a shoe. “But first, you’re going to tell me all there is to know about you.”
I take a deep, exasperating breath, girding myself for the inevitable.
“I guess my moment of reckoning has finally come.”
“That it has, Lemon.”
Everett presses his hand against my back as he navigates us out of the seedy club, and I can’t help but think I’m walking to my doom. And in a way, I am.
I’d rather trade places with Hunter than try to explain my supernatural superpowers with someone as logically minded as Everett.
This will not end well.
But I’m guessing it will be the end of our friendship.
Chapter 31
T he McMurry Pumpkin Patch gleams like a crown filled with amber jewels on this late October night. Everett offered to take us out for something warm to drink, and I opted for cider. There seems to be a theme tonight. And Everett, being the gentleman he is, opted to hold off our chat until we each had a warm cup in our hands.
The moon shines down from the east, casting long shadows across the fields laden with enough pumpkins to create a pie for every person in North America. We settle on a couple of bales of hay and look out at all of the families enjoying the festivities. There are pumpkin carving stations, three oversized bounce houses sagging and rocking in rhythm, and a petting zoo filled to capacity with both humans and animals—and the sight of the furry creatures sours my expression because it’s a harsh reminder of why we’re here.
“So I’ve done some research”—Everett begins—“within the community of people who believe in those kind of afterlife phenomena. Seeing dead pets is not entirely uncommon.”
I make a face at his attempt to put a quasi-scientific spin on things. “And what’s your verdict? Are you going to lock me up in a psychiatric facility for life, or do I get the electric chair?”
“Neither.” His shoulders sag as he scoots in another inch. “Tell me your history. When did this begin? What exactly is this?”
My eyes close involuntarily as I try to summon the right words, in the right order, but they won’t come.
“Okay, I’m just going to blurt this out.” I take a quick breath, my gaze pinned to those blue flames that are ready to torch my world down. “When I was a kid, I started seeing creatures that happen to be missing a tangible body—little see-through cute and furry ghosts, if you will.” I sigh at how ridiculous it sounds coming from my lips. “Anyway, one day I saw a little turtle floating near Bear’s ear, and later that afternoon he broke his arm. So the next time I saw a little disembodied beast, I held my breath and, sure enough, it happened again—and again, and again, and again. And then, of course, there was Merilee’s orange Tabby, which I saw on the same day I met you. That was the first time anyone actually bit the big one. But now that I think on it, everything that’s ever transpired has been pretty awful.”
He ticks his head back, just trying to absorb it all. “How about your family, your mother, your father? Do they share the same gift?”
“I was adopted by the Lemons when I was just an infant. There’s no telling who my real family is. Like I mentioned before, the only other person on the planet who’s aware of this is Nell Sawyer. She’s my best friend, Keelie’s, grandmother, and well, mine by proxy. She didn’t judge me.” I glance out to the pumpkin patch for a moment as a truck filled with bales of hay and a happy load of passengers goes by. “But you’ll judge me.” It comes out lower than a whisper. “You can’t help it. It’s what you do for a living.”
“I don’t judge like that.” He bounces his hand over mine a moment. “Lemon, as strange as it sounds, I believe you. I don’t claim to understand everything about this universe. And if that’s what you say happens, then I accept that as the truth. And I can tell that you’re telling the truth. I’d like to ask your forgiveness for prying. I just needed to be clear that in no way this would’ve impeded on the case.”
“And what have you decided?” I’m almost teasing, but you never know with Everett.
“You’re in the clear.” He takes a sip of his cider. “You want me to take you home?”
“Actually, now that you know all about my family history, I was hoping you could share something about your own. Noah mentioned that his father took your mother to the cleaners. I feel just terrible about that—especially since I ended up turning her misfortune into appliances for the bakery.”
Everett pumps out a dull laugh. “Well, he didn’t exactly clean her out. He did, however, put in a darn good effort. Despite the fact, my mother is still a wealthy woman. She still lives in Fallbrook. Still cautiously single. She’s a hotel heiress. My grandfather owned a chain of five-star hotels across Europe. I’ve got a sister, Meghan. She works for an insurance company. She’s still back in Fallbrook as well. Single, no pets.” He smirks over at me, and I pretend to sock him on the arm.
“And you?” I lift a shoulder his way as if I were being coy. “How are you possibly single? I mean, I get that whole exes thing. I’ve met them. But why haven’t you settled down yet?”
Everett turns toward the fields and takes a deep breath. “Guess I haven’t found the one.”
“You will. You’ll be off the market soon enough, believe me. And there will be a body count, too. Women are going to war over you.”
He winces. “Coming from you, the body count sounds like a threat.”
“Sadly, coming from me, it might be.”
“And you?” He touches his shoulder to mine as if to prod me. “Are you off the market?”
My stomach sinks because I can’t seem to find the answer. “I thought I was. Noah and I seemed to be going pretty strong. I just—he never told me how he felt about me, and I was left questioning whether or not he wanted something exclusive with me.”
“Did you want something exclusive with him?” He bears those ocean blue eyes into mine, and a shiver runs through me.
“Yes, I wanted it. I mean, Noah’s a great guy. He just—I don’t know. He doesn’t want me tampering in what he refers to as his investigation. And I get that to a certain extent. But Hunter was my friend. I can’t just let it go and hope for the best. Th
ere’s a bona fide killer out there. And if he or she isn’t caught soon, they might just strike again.”
“I get that. But I also get where Noah is coming from. You’re a great person, Lemon. And at the risk of losing a friendship, I have to say I agree with him. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt and neither do I. I’m sorry, but it’s safety first. You said it yourself. There’s a bona fide killer out there who might be looking for another victim. We don’t want that to be you.”
“Neither do I.” I sag into the words. “I don’t really fault Noah for wanting to keep me safe. Or you.” I knock my knee into his as an entire gaggle of kids run for the pick-up area for the next round of hayrides. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know if Noah has any hang-ups about relationships, would you?”
He cocks his head to the side. “I know his ex was a pistol. I’m sure that made him more than a little cautious. But that’s his story to tell. If he’s smart, he’ll commit to you soon. He’s not a player anymore.”
“A player, huh?” I can’t help but giggle at the thought. “Did you take the baton from him?”
He groans as he cringes. “I might have taken a page out of his playbook. Both he and his brother were a bad influence on me back in the day.” He glowers toward the pumpkin patch as if he were having a bad memory. “You know what? How about we hop on that hayride real quick? It’ll be a nice palate cleanse before we head on out.”
“Judge Baxter.” I laugh as I hop up and dust the hay from my jeans. “You really do know how to have a good time.”
We finish up our cider and board the tractor-trailer, seating ourselves near the back, a safe distance from the howling masses. Everett and I laugh during every inch of that bumpy, twisted, and jerking good time. And once the tractor comes to a stop, we’re the last to get off. Everett exits first. It’s so murky and dark in this area of the pumpkin patch it all feels like a dream.
Murder in the Mix Books 1-3 (Murder in the Mix Boxed Set) Page 24
