Cake Pop Casualties (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 22)

by Addison Moore

  “Carlotta, it’s an Italian restaurant, not the marriage supper of the lamb. That being said, I hope they make a mean pizza because I am starving.”

  Noah wraps an arm around my waist. “And I’d like to veto Mr. Sexy’s presence.”

  “You don’t have to.” I give a sly wink. “You’re already by my side.”

  Noah’s phone goes off and he excuses himself a moment as he steps aside.

  Carlotta gasps. “What’s this? Why are you shamelessly flirting with Foxy? Why are you suddenly so quick to cut out the man who put the sex in Essex?”

  “Believe me, that’s the last thing I’m doing. Nell let me know that I’ve got two soul mates.”

  “Two?” Her eyes grow double in size. “Who are they?”

  “Carlotta.” I stamp my foot down. “Would you stop? They’re Noah and Everett. Don’t you see? I really do get both of them. They’re officially mine. You don’t know the weight that’s been taken off of me.”

  She inches back in terror as if I just sprouted an eyeball over my forehead.

  “You mean, you really are going to double your pleasure, double your fun? I was just teasing at the bakery. You of all people know not to take my word as gospel. What are people going to think?” Her jaw drops. “Wait just a darn tootin’ minute! You’re not going to shack up with both of them. You’ll probably play this marry and divorce game until your girl parts fall down and shrivel up and the two of them finally toss you aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Sorry to break it to you, Lot, but that’s what men do. They string you along for thirty to forty years, then trade you in for a shiny new toy. It’s just the way of the world, baby girl. Try not to get too misty-eyed over it. I’ve seen it play out a time or two.”

  “Only because you’ve played the part of the shiny new toy,” I tell her. “Noah and Everett aren’t trading me in.”

  Noah comes back and blows out a breath. “We’d better get inside. There’s a young girl in there that needs our attention.”

  Carlotta rocks back on her heels. “So it begins.”

  I take a moment to glare at Noah. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  A smile bounces on his face. “Sounds like you’ve got a wedding on your mind. I like that.” He glides his arm back around my waist. “Now let’s head on in and get this over with.” His features darken as he looks to the establishment before us with its brick façade and its display of Christmas lights strung over the entry like an arch.

  There’s a note on the door that reads Closed for a private party.

  “Don’t worry, Lot. This is a notorious haunt for gangsters. It’s just their way of keeping the general public out of their hair.”

  “What about homicide detectives that are packing heat?” I ask, suddenly fearing for Noah’s safety.

  “I’ll be fine,” he says. “I’m with you, remember?”

  We head on in and it’s dark inside, moody lighting, the sound of Sinatra blares from the speakers, and the scent of the world’s best red sauce lights up my senses.

  “I want whatever they’re smothering that over,” I say. “Whatever slice of heaven is making my stomach weep with joy is what I want to fill it with.”

  A woman clad in a white frilly skirt and hot pink tube top comes by. Her long red hair is lush and thick as it curves down her back like a well-trained snake.

  She leads us through the establishment laden with tables and chairs with bodies to fill just about every one of them. There’s a stage upfront with a live band, and there’s a dance floor filled with mostly women dressed in the same frilly white skirt and tube top shaking their hips as if it were their last day on Earth, and something tells me if they don’t please Luke Lazzari, it just might be.

  Carlotta slaps my arm silly. “Check out the bar,” she whoops with laughter and both Noah and I turn to find a row of barstools with pictures of bare naked bottoms on the backrests—all of them belonging to that of a seemingly slender woman.

  “Funny,” I say it flat because I’m not in the slightest bit amused at the amount of chauvinism taking place here.

  We’re taken to an alcove that opens from the main dining hall where a large round table sits, and I gasp when I see the faces amassed around it.

  “Everett? Evie?”

  Seated with Luke Lazzari are indeed both Everett and Evie. Everett is looking up at me with a stern expression before lifting a finger as if he were waving. He’s clad in his dark inky suit with a glass of what looks to be whiskey in his left hand.

  Evie has her hair neatly curled in long waves. She’s wearing her favorite black tank top with the word YUMMY printed boldly across her chest in hot pink, and she’s going on a mile a minute to the mobster seated by her side before following her gaze my way.

  “Hey, Mom! Uncle Luke sent a limo to pick me up. Isn’t that cool? Of course, I had to tell Dad and he wasn’t too thrilled about it, so he met up with me here. He was beyond livid”—she says livid in air quotes—“but Uncle Luke pulled out the good stuff to calm him down a bit.”

  “Wonderful,” I say. It comes out flat once again and I have a feeling that will be a running theme the entire time we’re here.

  Luke rises to his feet and closes the distance between us. “The lovely Carlotta Lemon.” He picks up both my hands and kisses them, and as he bows I can see my reflection on his shiny bald head. Luke looks handsome in an older bad boy sort of way with his dark suit and his bright red tie that was most likely dipped in the blood of his enemies. He stands up straight and presses his eyes to mine. “You’re my lucky charm. You know that?” He pulls Carlotta in for a warm embrace, and I watch as his hands glide up and down her back before dipping a little lower and he gives her bottom a robust squeeze. “Please, all of you, sit down.” He nods to Noah. “Detective Fox, it’s nice seeing you again so soon, and under much better circumstances.”

  We head to our seats and Carlotta leans my way. “I think I just found my second soul mate, Lot Lot. I say let the naughty reindeer games begin.”

  “There will be games, all right,” I whisper. “And bullets will be involved.”

  I land between Noah and Everett, and Carlotta sits next to Evie before shooting Everett with her fingers.

  “I tried to invite ’cha, but Lottie wasn’t having it.” She gives me the stink eye, and I give it right back. “But it looks as if fate had other plans.”

  Everett lifts a brow my way and, just as I open my mouth to defend myself, Evie cuts me off at the pass.

  “Speaking of plans”—she bounces in her seat—“I was just telling Uncle Luke my new best friend Dash and I are thinking of starting a girl gang called the Honey Hollow Honeys.”

  “Great.” It comes out flat once again just as predicted.

  Evie nods. “Uncle Luke thinks it’s pretty great, too. He thinks it takes real initiative. In fact, he offered to mentor me to teach me the basics of how to deal with my underlings in the event they get unruly.”

  Everett turns my way as a manufactured grin expands on his lips. It looks painful. Who am I kidding? It looks like a threat, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the threat was aimed right at me. Everett never smiles. That alone alerts to the fact trouble is ahead.

  Leave it to Carlotta and her mob ties to land me in hot water with my husband.

  One of the many bodacious beauties comes by and distributes drinks to the table, a round of water with a slice of lemon, unidentified fruity concoctions, a bunch of beers, and several glasses of dark red wine. She sets it all toward the center of the table. Evie stretches her hand as if to grab a colorful cocktail, and I glide a water in her palm instead.

  Carlotta chuckles as she looks to Evie. “You didn’t think your mama was about to let you have a fruity fun time, did you? Sorry, kiddo. Your mom doesn’t believe in having a little f-u-n. Just ask your daddy. He’s had nothing but one long dry spell the entire time he’s been married to her. I bet dollars to donuts he never thought he’d run into those kinds of troubles with a wo
man.”

  “Carlotta,” I hiss.

  Luke’s chest bounces with a laugh of his own. “Young Carlotta, your mother means well. I’m afraid she’s always been a bit of a spitfire. That’s what first attracted me to her.”

  My lips twist in an effort to keep quiet and not let some snide remark slip out, but it’s no use.

  “She’s more of a wildfire than a spitfire,” I point out. “And I’m sure she was flattered that a powerful man such as yourself was showing interest in her. Carlotta has a history with men in power, so this doesn’t surprise me.”

  She narrows her eyes my way. “Somewhere buried in those seemingly innocent words there was a slight, but I can’t quite find it.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say without hesitating.

  “Thank you?” Carlotta looks far more confused than she does amused.

  Luke points my way. “That’s exactly why I brought you here—to say thank you. Having you and your precious mother in my shop brought my boys and me unprecedented luck. The feds had enough to hang us by our toes, and yet nothing they threw at the wall would stick. My attorney said I needed to go home and thank my lucky stars, and here I am doing just that. I’m thanking my lucky stars.” He pulls a glass of red wine forward. “Everyone, lift a glass to Carlotta and Carlotta Junior.”

  We do as we’re told and Luke lifts his wine even higher.

  “To the girls!”

  We join him in his toast before imbibing.

  Soon, an entire parade of waitresses brings forth a crackling, snapping feast as they set down enough large family-sized platters to feed a small army. Among the pizza and the lasagna there’s lusciously caramelized veggies, chicken marsala, grilled steak, creamy garlic shrimp with angel hair pasta, and drunk penne pasta cooked in red wine and smothered in tomato sauce. Suddenly, I’m more than excited to be seated at the Don’s private—clearly favorite—eatery. Lucky for me, I came with an appetite.

  Luke nods over to Noah. “I’m sure you have mixed feelings about being in my presence. I just want you to know I respect you. And I respect the law. It is the law that let me off the hook, after all. But you should be proud. Your men did a very good job, Detective Fox.” He points my way. “You’ve got a good husband, Lottie.”

  “Oh, Noah isn’t my husband,” I correct a little too quickly and note Noah’s frown. “He’s my boyfriend. This is my husband,” I say, giving Everett’s shoulder a quick pat.

  Luke tips his head to the side so hard I’m half-convinced it’s about to twist off.

  “Hear that?” he says to no one in particular. “The girl has a side piece.” A dull laugh pumps from him. “I’m really impressed. Carlotta did a mighty fine job with this one.”

  Evie grunts as she swallows a bite of her food. “She’s off to a great start with me, too.”

  Luke winks her way. “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll always have me to watch your back.” He shrugs at Everett. “She’s grown on me. I’m her Uncle Luke. What do you expect?”

  Everett’s knee begins to bounce manically, and I’m pretty sure he’d like to say about thirty regrettable things, but the logical side of his brain is telling him not to do it.

  Everett’s chest expands. “So, Luke, what do you know about Norman Pemberley?”

  Brilliant. Rein the mobster in, and away from our daughter, and get some dirt on the killer in the meantime. Everett is a stealth genius at every turn.

  Luke gives an aggressive nod my way. “You’re still on the hunt, aren’t you, Carlotta Junior?” He slaps his palm over the table. “I’ll help. What’s the evidence? What are we looking at?”

  I glance to Noah. “No hard evidence. One of the guests said she spotted a man running out the door in a dark suit right after the gun was fired. She made it sound as if he was fleeing the scene.”

  Luke turns his palm up and shrugs. “It was probably the killer. Now, who’s got a motive to off the old man?”

  “It’s hard to say.” I strum my fingers over the table as I try to recall. “There’s Debbie, his daughter. She made it clear she didn’t approve of her father’s impending marriage to Analise. And she said something odd when I saw her at the antique mall her father owned. She said something about doing whatever it took to get what she wanted. And then there’s Jenson. He had a thing for Analise—might still have one. He has a vested interest in the antique mall as well. He doesn’t have anything nice to say about his former stepfather and went as far as calling him a dream killer. That’s who Brandy thinks did it. Same with Hartley.”

  A silver brow hooks into Luke’s forehead. “And who are those broads?”

  “Oh, Brandy Hildenbrand is a registered nurse. She’s the one that saw the killer flee, or at least she thinks she did. And Hartley Kendrick was Norman’s second wife. She’s Carlotta’s good friend, too.”

  He snaps his fingers toward Carlotta. “Spill it.”

  “Pfft.” Carlotta waves him off. “Hart’s no killer. She’s the real deal as far as good people go. And she knows how to have a good time, too. Next time you send a limo for me, I’m bringing her along.”

  He ticks his head to the side as if considering it.

  I clear my throat. “Hartley might be a good person, but she did threaten to kill her ex-husband just before he died that afternoon.”

  All eyes turn my way once again, including Carlotta who looks as if she’s threatening to do the same bodily harm to me.

  “She did.” I shrug. “Right before she called him a pig’s arse.”

  Noah folds his arms across his chest. “She’s definitely a suspect.”

  Carlotta scoffs. “Et tu, Foxy?”

  Everett looks my way. “Any others?”

  “Analise,” I say. “I don’t have any hard evidence linking her to the crime, but she was arguing with Jenson, and she looked visibly upset, angry to be specific. And that’s it. That’s all I’ve got.”

  Luke points to Everett. “The judge has something to add, but he’s holding back. I get it. That’s what you’re trained to do. You’re a good listener. And once the jury delivers, you come in with a mean wallop.”

  Everett glowers at Luke. “I do not come in with a mean wallop. I’m not a monster. I am fair. I am judicious. There are rules delineated by our laws, and I stay inside their bounds. That’s where I preside. I deliver a fair sentence because I don’t believe in giving anyone the good guy special. If you—”

  Luke holds up a finger. “Roll the dice—you pay the price. I get it. My family has been on the receiving end a few too many times. Believe it or not, we respect men like yourself. You’ve got a job to do. And when we get sloppy in our line of work, we end up in front of your bench. I tell my guys time and time again—whatever that damn judge throws your way, you gotta accept because you deserve it. If my guys don’t do their job right, you gotta do yours.” He lifts his hands. “What are you gonna do? It’s the way of the world. My family doesn’t rule the world.” A slow spreading grin takes over his face. “We just take our cut.”

  I bounce in my seat without meaning to.

  Why do I get the feeling the real reason Luke Lazzari dragged us down here is to take his cut from my innocent bakery? I’ll sic every ghost in Honey Hollow on him and his men if he thinks I’ll be forking over a handful of my hard-earned cash his way.

  “Don’t worry”—he jabs a finger my way—“as a thank you for being my good luck charm, I’m going to turn my men loose on the killer. We’ll get this case solved and free your little friend.”

  By little friend, he’s referencing Keelie—a euphemism Keelie would have gotten a giggle over, seeing that she’s convinced she’s the size of a barn.

  “Good,” I say.

  Noah shakes his head. “You won’t find the killer.” He pulls out a roll from the folded linen in the breadbasket before us.

  Luke leans in, his features hardened to stone. “What did you just say to me?”

  Everett knocks his knee to mine, and I can’t help but note the amused look in his eye
s.

  What is Noah thinking talking to Luke that way? Noah doesn’t have a death wish, does he?

  Noah ceases in buttering his roll. “You’re not going to find the killer, Luke.” He looks across the table at him, unflinching, and dear sweet heaven, I can feel all holy heck about to break loose. “You’re not going to find the killer because Lottie will beat you to it. I wish there was an easy way for me to break it down for you, but there isn’t. She’s a mastermind when it comes to tracking down killers. I have had all of the evidence before me, time and time again, and it’s been Lottie who has beat the Ashford Sheriff’s Department to the punch.”

  Luke’s jaw stiffens as he shifts in his seat, and I’d bet every delectable dish on the table in front of me that he’s reaching for a weapon.

  “Hit the floor!” I shout and Luke lifts a hand and shakes his head as he reassures those around us it’s safe.

  He leans in and glowers at Noah. “You’re a smart man, Fox. You know what side your buns are buttered on. More importantly, you know who holds the butter.” He lifts his knife and points my way.

  Everett chuckles to himself. “You hear that, Noah? He’s calling you out for playing to Lemon’s ego.” He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry. I know you don’t have an ego, nor would I stoop to patronizing you in that way, in or out of mixed company.” He shakes his head at Noah. “It’s a desperate look on you. I wouldn’t reach for that party trick anymore. It’s off-putting.”

  Now it’s Luke rumbling with a dark laugh. “You are sly, Judge Baxter. It’s not a wonder you got this woman on matrimonial lockdown. It doesn’t get smoother than that.”

  “Super smooth.” Evie grins wide. “That’s my daddy. No offense, Uncle Noah.”

  Noah takes a breath. “None taken.”

  Everett twitches his brows at Noah, and Noah looks as if he’s ready to pick a fight with both Everett and Luke.