Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies: Murder in the Mix 1

by Moore, Addison

  “So, what do you think?” Keelie asks as she looks to the crowd. “Did Honey Hollow survive its first great tragedy?”

  “Are you kidding? We not only survived, we’re thriving.”

  Mom comes up with a suppressed look of joy on her face as she lunges at me with a firm embrace. “I couldn’t agree more.” She pulls back, that bright red smile of hers expanding for more. “And you, my little girl”—she pinches my cheek with vigor—“are thriving, too.” There’s a sparkle in her eyes that’s saying something more than just her words imply, and a part of me doesn’t understand it just yet, but I know that in time I will. All will be known. And we will undoubtedly know so much more than we could ever carry or comprehend at the moment.

  Lainey pops up behind her, the ever-dutiful Tanner Redwood ambling by her side. “Just stay out of trouble from now on, would you? And for the love of all things sane, do not stumble upon another dead body. It only leads to trouble.”

  “I agree on all points. And though it was unspoken, I just want you to know that I’m already looking for a new place to live. So you don’t have to worry about me living in your guest room forever.”

  “What?” Her cheeks pique with color, a cute little attribute my sister has had for as long as I can remember once she gets flustered. “You do not have to do that. You know I love having you around. And who will I share goodnight kisses with if Pancake isn’t there to tuck me in? I won’t have it. But if you insist, at least take your time. My door will always be open to you.”

  “Thank you. I very much appreciate that.”

  The three of them proceed to the dessert table, and my mother is grabbing as many people as she can on the way over, forming a conga line while she’s at it.

  “Forever the life of the party,” I point out to Keelie.

  “I am, aren’t I?” a deep voice rumbles from our left, and we turn to find the delectable, delicious, and, might I add, dapper Detective Noah Fox.

  “Noah!” I wrap my arms around him and indulge in a relatively tame kiss. We’ll get to the untamed kisses as soon as we’re alone. Noah has been a rock of support over the last few dizzying days, and we’ve come to terms with who we are as people. He’s accepted me for the strong-willed, strong-minded, and very much competent to keep myself safe woman I am. And I’ve accepted his unrelenting praise and affection. It is very hard for someone like me, who has received her fair share of rejection over the course of my twenty-six years, to come to terms with the fact there are some people who simply will not reject you, and if they do, that’s on them. I will be just fine, regardless. I don’t need everyone to love and accept me. I need the love and acceptance of those who are willing to give it. It’s a game of give and take. And I choose to give as much love and acceptance to those around me to make up for lost time as well.

  “Enough already with the PDA,” another male voice grumbles, and we cease and desist our love-fest only to find Everett standing there with a genuine grin blooming on his face. A cup of cider rests in his hand, and he looks relaxed, happy even. “You two look good together.” That smile of his does a quick exit. “And I’m happy that I’ve gotten to know you, Lemon.” He nods my way before looking to his once upon a stepbrother. “And I’m”—he looks to Noah a good long while—“I’m glad we didn’t throw punches.” He lifts his mug, and I can tell there is still work to do as far as restoration goes between these two.

  Keelie points toward the tree in the center of the establishment, and we find Nell tapping the edge of a glass with a knife as she calls the room to attention. The twinkle lights that wrap around the trunk of the tree and spray out over the branches covering the ceiling give this place a magical glow that someplace as magical as the Honey Pot Diner deserves.

  “Attention, please, attention,” Nell shouts as she commands the room. “I just wanted to say that it is my great pleasure to host our fine community—a community of love and inclusion, a safe place for all. Where, though there might be few that are blood-related, yet we are all family. Please enjoy the sweet treats baked by my granddaughter, Lottie Lemon.” She gives a playful wink my way, and my heart sings when she calls me that. It always does. “In fact, it is also my great pleasure to announce that through the careful greasing of the right hands, my new venture that I have embarked upon with my granddaughter, Lottie, is about to come to fruition. The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, which will include fine confections, gourmet coffee, and more, will be conveniently located right next door in just a few weeks.”

  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 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 were 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 they bring 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.

  ***Read on for a brief preview of Bobbing for Bodies (Murder in the Mix 2) available NOW!

  A Note from the Author

  Be sure to pick up Bobbing for Bodies (Murder in the Mix 2) NOW!

  Thank you for reading Cutie Pies and Deadly Lies (Murder in the Mix #1). If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review at your point of purchase. Even a sentence or two makes a difference to an author. Thank you so very much in advance! Your effort is very much appreciated.

  ***Turn the page for a preview of Bobbing for Bodies (Murder in the Mix 2)!

  Bobbing for Bodies

  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 1

  Bobbing for Bodies

  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 f
ront 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.