Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix Book 30)

by Unknown

  “No freaking way!” Evie howls just as my mother waltzes in with a little yellow bag in her hand. She has a red and pink plaid blazer peeking out from under her winter coat and her cherry red lipstick looks freshly applied. My mother has looked impeccably put together for as long as I remember.

  “Hello, all!” Mom trills as she snaps a raspberry tart off the platter before us. “Oh, Lottie, these are divine. I just wanted to stop in because I forgot to give you this gift last night. It’s for the baby.” She hands it my way before shimmying her shoulders over at Noah. “Wiley has his money on you as the baby’s father.”

  “He always did know how to pick a winner in every aspect of his life.” Noah flashes those dimples. “He is dating you.”

  Mom giggles like a schoolgirl before thrusting the gift my way.

  “Glam Glam.” Evie presses a hand to her chest with all the drama a sixteen-year-old can afford. “As soon as Mom rips that thing open, I have big news.”

  “Go on, Lot”—Carlotta snaps up one of Noah’s chocolate chip cookies—“let her rip. Let’s see what the little lemon tart has coming to it.”

  I send the tissue paper flying before pulling out a tablet a little bigger than my hand with a purple rubber case around it.

  “Is this an e-reader?” I ask as the thing powers on all by itself.

  “It is.” Mom’s voice is thick with enthusiasm. “And it’s so much more. They have all sorts of games for the baby to play. The entire thing is chock-full of learning software. Wiley helped me pull it out of the box and load it for you. It’s all ready to go. It’s childproof and everything. You want to give it to the baby as soon as it’s born. I wouldn’t wait five minutes.”

  “Mother”—I can’t help but laugh—“I’m not shoving this in its face as soon as it gets here.”

  “Oh, but you have to,” she insists. “It has all the latest technology. It’s pertinent the baby is proficient in it right away. I don’t want the child to be like me. The digital divide is not an easy thing to live with.”

  “Well, thank you, Mom. This is very nice of you.” I think.

  “Yes, thank you, Miranda,” Noah says as I pass the tablet his way. “And I’m with you on offering as much visual and auditory stimuli as possible in the first five years. Lottie, I can’t wait to start teaching the baby everything we know.”

  Evie smirks. “Maybe wait a while to teach it how to hide a body.”

  “Evie,” I whisper as I give a nervous glance to the handful of customers sprinkled among us.

  She makes a face. “I get it, Mom. Uncle Noah didn’t hide the body. It was all Dad, wink wink. Don’t worry. I won’t say a word. I think it’s super cool my family has dark, disturbing secrets that involve body snatching. For all I know, Uncle Noah, you set my dad up so you could have Mom all to yourself.”

  “Not true,” Noah says while watching a cartoon on the baby’s new tablet.

  She shrugs. “Dad’s incarceration has already flung me up the popularity ladder a few rungs. And I have a feeling as soon as Ski Week is done, I’ll sail right up to the top.”

  “Ski Week?” I tip my ear her way. “Is that why you were home today?”

  She glances up at me for a whole three seconds. “Why did you think I was home today?”

  “I don’t know. It seems Honey Hollow High has a conference day, a teacher meeting day, or some other excuse to keep you kids out of class every single week. But Ski Week is tantamount to Spring Break. You should invite a few friends over, and we can have a movie night. I’ll bring the cookies. In fact, I’ll whip up some dough and you guys can bake them yourselves if you want. It’ll be fun.”

  Carlotta gives Evie a stern look. “Back in my day, they locked you in school from sunup till sundown and then they sent you home and made you rewrite entire encyclopedias every single night.”

  “Sounds miserable,” Evie says, scrolling through her phone.

  “Oh, it was.” Carlotta nods back at my mother as if looking for a little camaraderie. “That’s why I escaped. I found me an older geezer and had me some real fun. And with my dumb luck in play, I got saddled with your mother. Of course, I dropped her like a lead balloon and took off for warmer pastures.”

  Mom squints her way. “You know I don’t know anything about your time in Arizona, Carlotta. What did you do while you were out there, anyway?”

  “Never you mind.” Carlotta’s lips knot up. “Lot? Let’s talk about your own lead balloon. What kind of a name are you going to hex it with?”

  “Carlotta.” I scoff. “The name I choose to give my little sugar cookie is not going to be a hex. And why do I get the feeling you don’t want to tell us about your time in Arizona?”

  “Arizona, huh?” Noah grunts without looking up from the game he’s playing—connecting blue and pink dots to make the shape of a pony. “Is that where you had the conjugal visits?”

  “Oh hush, all of you.” Carlotta snags another one of Noah’s chocolate chip cookies. “As far as I’m concerned, I never left Honey Hollow. Let’s change the subject. Miranda, how’s it going at the Rendezvous Luxury Resort?”

  “Oh, Mom,” I moan. “We have to move heaven and earth to get that inn back in your hands or not even the ghosts will want to stick around. That hot pink flooring had my morning sickness making a reappearance.”

  Mom’s lips swim as if she might be sick herself. “They replaced the carpeting in the rest of the inn this morning. A shocking pink harlequin pattern. I tripped twice just walking to the foyer.”

  “I’m sorry, Miranda.” Noah looks incensed. “I can’t apologize enough for this budding disaster. I’ll talk to Cormack and Cressida about buying back the inn.”

  “Too late. I beat you to it,” I say. “It’s a no go. You know that old saying everything has its price tag? Apparently, the B&B doesn’t have one. But don’t worry, Mom. I’m going to figure this out for you. And the next time you need a little cash, feel free to knock on my door.”

  “Good to know, Lot,” Carlotta answers. “Expect a couple of bangs from me. With all the writing I need to do for my follow-up book, I won’t have time to tend to my massage business. And the candle gig was seasonal.”

  Carlotta started giving massages out of her van a couple of months back. The name of her dangerous endeavor? A Whole Lotta Touchin’—an inspiration for that self-help book she just penned.

  She sold overpriced candles during the holidays, too, but now that she’s tapped the market as far as selling to everyone she knows, the merchandise has stopped moving. I’m positive about this because I happen to have the remainder of her inventory in my garage.

  Carlotta lifts a raspberry tart my way as if she were toasting me with it. “Now let’s get back to names, Lot Lot. Carlotta is a fine name to gift any young woman. And that’s something both your mother and I can agree on.”

  Mom chortles. “I do happen to agree. But you know, Miranda is a fine name, too. Or how about Nell? I bet Nell would have been so honored to have her name as a part of your child’s life.”

  “Nell is a beautiful name.” I press my lips tightly to keep my emotions in check. “And Carlotta is pretty, too,” I say, looking over at my namesake. All those years ago when Carlotta left me to fend for myself in the Honey Hollow Fire Department—as a newborn—she pinned a note to the blanket letting everyone know I should be named Carlotta. My sweet mother, Miranda Lemon, complied. Although she quickly gifted me the nickname Lottie, and that nickname has sort of stuck. “But there are so many beautiful girl names out there. And I have to come up with boy names, too.”

  Noah looks up. “Noah is a good name.”

  Carlotta rumbles with a laugh. “And if the baby is Sexy’s—”

  “Noah is still a good name,” he points out while flashing those dimples my way.

  “Very funny,” I say as Evie jumps out of her seat and lets out an ear-piercing howl that chases out the handful of customers I had left.

  “No freaking way!” Evie shouts at the top of he
r lungs while staring down at her phone. “It just gets better!”

  “What in the world is going on?” My voice hikes as I try my hardest not to panic. Over time, I’ve learned that Evie can get more than a little excited about a simple “like” on her Insta Pictures account—especially if that like came from a cute boy.

  “I can’t believe this,” Evie pants while staring wide-eyed at her phone. “I only had a little over four thousand followers on my Insta Pictures account this morning, and every time I refresh it, I have a gazillion more.”

  Carlotta hops up and peers over her shoulder. “What number are you on, little Toots?”

  “I don’t know,” Evie shouts. “I can’t count this high.”

  Carlotta moans as she tries to decipher it herself. “I can’t count that high either. What’s it say, Foxy?”

  Evie thrusts her phone his way and Noah gives a couple of blinks.

  “Evie, you’ve got over a million followers.” He eyes her suspiciously. “What’s going on? What kind of pictures are you posting?”

  I suck in a quick breath. “Carlotta! Did you shove that phone up your sweater, thinking it was yours?” I know firsthand that she’s sent more than a few naughty pictures to Mayor Nash.

  Her mouth falls open. “It was my pants.” She looks to Evie. “Prepare to be far more popular than you ever believed possible.”

  The bell on the door chimes and in walk three women and a baby, two of which I desperately need a hug from.

  “Keelie,” I moan her name as I head over and pull both her and baby Bear in for a hug.

  Keelie Nell Fisher just so happens to be my very best friend in the entire world. We paired up in preschool and have been besties ever since.

  Her blonde curls blind me a moment as I pull back to get a better look at that adorable babe in her arms.

  Little Bear is six months old, just like my sweet niece, Josie. He’s got dark blond hair and the chubbiest cheeks you ever did see. He’s as solid as they come and he’s every bit a boy, with his husky laugh and determined stare. Bear and Josie were born on the same night. Actually, it was Noah who delivered Bear into this world because Keelie couldn’t quite make it to the hospital.

  Mom swoops over and steals Bear from Keelie’s arms.

  “Come to Glam Glam, you adorable little peanut.” She bops and rocks him over her hip as Carlotta heads their way and begins to prod at the poor kid, too.

  “Lottie”—Keelie holds a hand out to the women by her side and a breath hitches in my throat because I happen to recognize both of them from last night—“have you met your new neighbors?”

  “I met Sugar last night,” I say as I take her in with her adorable red and white dotted raincoat and her bright pink lips that sit over her face like a bowtie.

  Sugar nods. “That’s right. And I was just at the Honey Pot for lunch when I met Keelie. She helped me organize my shelves over at the bookstore.”

  The brunette from last night that I most definitely saw having a disagreement with Verity smiles my way. The gold-rimmed glasses slide down her nose a notch as she inspects me. She’s donned a cranberry corduroy dress and slouchy boots, and looks as sweet as can be.

  “And I’m Juliet Jackowski.” She offers me her hand, and I give a little shake. “I just took over the knitting shop across the street from Mrs. Collins.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know she was selling,” I say with a touch of sadness over the fact. “It’s super nice to meet you, Juliet. I think I saw you last night at my mother’s B&B.” I cringe a little. “Well, it used to be her place. It has recently been taken over, too.”

  Mom and Carlotta scuttle this way as Mom slinks in close to Sugar.

  “You’re that new bookstore owner,” she says with a touch too much excitement in her voice. “We meet again.” She gives a cheesy wink. “I just can’t wait to do my signing.”

  “I’m excited, too,” Sugar is quick to tell her. “I’m game for whenever you are. Just spread the word, and I’ll do the same. I’m hoping to have a big turnout for you.” She looks to Carlotta. “For the both of you. I’m sure all of your fans will be there. You must be over the moon about the big news.”

  “That’s right,” Carlotta says, rocking back on her heels. “I only had five copies left of my book last night when all was said and done. And if that girl hadn’t kicked the bucket, it would have been a sellout.”

  “Carlotta,” I whisper her name through the side of my mouth like a ventriloquist.

  A choking sound emits from Sugar as she looks to Carlotta.

  “You don’t know the good news, do you?” she asks.

  “Lay it on me, blondie.” Carlotta turns her ear toward the girl. “Let me guess. You’ve got a hot dude who needs a hot date, and he likes to ride ’em hard and put ’em away wet?”

  Sugar laughs. “My dad does ride motorcycles, but I’m talking about the book list that came out this morning. A Whole Lotta Lovin’ ranked number ninety-eight on the Vermont best-seller list for nonfiction.”

  Carlotta belts out a sharp howl, and I think my mother just belted out a sharp moan.

  Our small circle breaks out into a series of congratulations for her.

  “Yes, Carlotta.” My mother sniffs while forcing a smile. “Congratulations on achieving such a highly coveted accolade right out the gate. I’m sure it’s just a case of beginner’s luck.”

  Carlotta winces over at her. “Did you make the Vermont best-sellers list right out the gate?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  Carlotta howls twice as loud, “That’s what we authors call getting our letters.” A prideful smile blooms on her face. “Next up is USA TODAY, and then after that the New York Times, and then after that—is whatever comes after that.”

  “A movie deal.” Keelie nods.

  Mom is quick to wave off the idea. “Let’s not get carried away.” Her voice wavers as if she might cry, and I decide to change the subject before the waterworks start.

  “Let’s not get too celebratory just yet either,” I say. “I’m pretty sure both of these women knew that poor girl who passed away last night. I’m sorry for your loss.” I cringe a little as I look to the two of them.

  Sugar sniffs back tears. “Growing up, Verity and I were the best of friends. It’s a horrible loss for everyone. She had a legion of fans. She was loved the world over.”

  Juliet nods. “I worked with her back when she was still just Verity.”

  “Oh?” Mom tips her head. “What did the two of you do?”

  “We worked for the Craft Emporium.”

  “Ooh!” Keelie’s eyes light up. “Lottie and I are addicted to the Craft Emporium. We used to pop in once a week just to see what’s new. I’m addicted to the scrapbooking stuff, and Lottie used to buy up all the seasonal decorations.”

  “Still do,” I say. “As soon as they put out all the fall and Christmas stock on display in the summer, I’m right there scooping it all up. I bought all of my Valentine’s decorations there, too,” I say, waving my hand around at my haul. “Come to think of it, I should really make another trip. There’s more heart-shaped fun to be had.”

  Juliet laughs. “Actually, Verity and I worked as online support for big vendor buyers like schools, churches, hospitals, stuff like that. So I never really had the chance to work on the store floor. But I’ve spent more than my fair share of time inside of the store, too—as a consumer. I’m a knitting addict.”

  “You must be thrilled to take over the knit shop,” I say. “I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do with The Knit Wit.”

  “First thing’s first, I’m changing the name. The new name is The Social Knitwork. The new signage is coming tomorrow.”

  “The Social Knitwork!” Keelie and I coo in unison.

  “That’s adorable,” I tell her. “Welcome to the neighborhood, to the both of you. Are either of you holding a grand opening?”

  Juliet and Sugar glance at one another and shake their heads.

  “We shoul
d do something,” I tell them. “Valentine’s Day is right around the corner. How about if we host a block party and invite the whole town? We could call it something cute like Love is in the Air on Main Street, and each of the businesses could have an open house. I’m sure everyone will be running a special on that day anyhow.”

  “No, no.” Mom wags a finger my way. “The B&B—I mean, the Rendezvous Luxury Resort is hosting a Valentine’s Day party to end all Valentine’s Day parties. The entire town is invited.” She turns to Sugar and Juliet. “In fact, once the new owners discovered that Verity had close to twenty million followers on her social media sites, they decided to hold the event in her honor—sort of a memorial.” She frowns a moment. “It’s their way of bringing more patrons to their new establishment.”

  “Riding on the coattails of Verity’s murder? That’s low,” I say.

  “Slimy.” Keelie shudders.

  “Innovative,” Carlotta retorts.

  “It’s perfect.” Sugar nods. “Verity only ever wanted one thing in life, and that’s to be in the spotlight.”

  A spray of pink stars appears around her shoulder, and right before my eyes a koala bear appears with its arms wrapped around Sugar’s neck as if it was holding on for dear life. Both Carlotta and I gasp in unison—as we should since we’re the only two who can see it. I hope.

  “Aw,” Carlotta coos. “I love me some koala bears! Especially a fuzzy little cutie patootie like this one.” She leans toward the supernatural sweetie. “What’s your name, handsome?”

  Both Sugar and Juliet look momentarily confused. Odd how both Keelie and my mother aren’t the least bit fazed by Carlotta’s lunacy. I suppose they’re used to it by now.

  “I actually had a koala bear once.” Sugar sighs with a shrug. “She was a precious little thing, a gray fuzzy cutie that my dad named Sugar Bear. Sugar after me.” She averts her eyes as if it were silly. “I just called her Teddy. Oh, how I wish I still had her. Our time together was way too short.”

  “I’m right here, Sugar,” the furry gray cutie shrills in a high-pitched voice before dotting a kiss to the side of Sugar’s face—although she might be trying to gnaw on it. I can’t be sure.