New York Cheesecake Chaos (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 8)

by Addison Moore

  “She was a savvy businesswoman,” I point out. “I just wish she didn’t need dirty ties to help her do it. I bet she felt trapped. There’s no way Rhonda would have done this without a sense of desperation.” Rhonda helped facilitate loans to just about everyone it seems. Mostly low five figures. Nothing too exorbitant to write home about.

  Everett jabs his finger at the bottom of the screen. “Last name on the list—look who it is.”

  “F. Gilbert?” I try to piece it together. “You don’t think that’s Felicity, do you?”

  “We can’t be sure.” Noah lets out a warm breath right over my neck, and a quiver bounces up my spine. I remember him doing exactly that during our most intimate moments, and every carnal moment we’ve shared bounces through my mind like a pornographic montage. “But look at the sum of that loan.”

  “Oh, wow.” I strain myself just to make sure I’m seeing this right. “A hundred thousand dollars? What would Felicity need a hundred thousand dollars for?”

  “I don’t know.” Everett logs out. “But I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”

  Chapter 12

  Noah thought it would be best if I handled Felicity on my own, and Everett agreed. So I did what any baker in my shoes would do—I put together a box of fresh warm peanut butter cookies straight from the oven and delivered them myself to The Enchanted Flower Shop.

  Macon follows me over like the dutiful pet he’s proving to be, chirping nonstop about those beautiful ladies he saw last night.

  “I’ve never seen your people so colorful, so graceful in their every move.”

  “Please, you were ogling strippers. Your beak was practically on the floor when I spotted you last.”

  “Strippers,” he says the word as if trying it on for size. “Happy, colorful, beautiful people—if macaws were people, they would most certainly be strippers.”

  A soft laugh rolls through me, but I quickly sober up as I head into the flower shop. It’s brightly lit inside, painted a pastel blue with an oversized marble island smack-dab in the middle of it, and presently it’s cluttered with a couple dozen projects Carlotta and Willow are feverishly working on.

  “Hey, girls,” I say, trying not to sound too overtly cheery. “I come bearing yummy treats. Is Felicity around?”

  Felicity strides out of the back on cue, and her mouth falls open once she spots the pink box from the bakery.

  “Thank you so much, Lottie. You have no idea how much we needed something like this.”

  Willow moans as she takes a bite. “She’s not kidding. It’s been pretty depressing getting to the shop in the morning knowing I’m not going to see Rhonda. It’s still all so unbelievable to me.”

  Felicity closes her eyes and nods in agreement. “But thankfully, things haven’t slowed down one bit. I’m no expert in running a business, but I’m learning quickly that if you want to keep your doors open, you need to have a serious influx of cash.”

  “So, you’ll be keeping the shop going?” I ask. “I’m so glad to hear it.”

  Felicity grimaces as if she’s not sure. “That’s the plan. Carlotta and Willow have both been a saving grace. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without them.”

  Carlotta gives an awkward wink my way before she looks to Felicity. “Any news on who did your mama in?”

  Why do I get the feeling she’s about to take a page out of Curt Vanderlin’s investigative playbook?

  Felicity’s entire body sags. “Nothing at all. It’s as if a ghost killed her. And if they are onto anyone, they haven’t clued me in on it.” She shoots an accusatory glance my way. “Are you onto anyone?”

  My lips crimp in an effort to keep me from spewing out the fact that Felicity herself is the number one suspect. But how could Felicity ever kill her mother in such a violent way? It’s so far out of character, I can’t wrap my head around it long enough to entertain it seriously.

  “No one in particular.” I shrug over at her. “I’m sorry. I wish there was better news. But if any of you have any suspicions about anyone at all, it’s best you share your thoughts. Even the slightest inkling something might be amiss can help bring a killer to justice.”

  Felicity glances to the side. “I don’t know. I mean, my mother didn’t have any enemies per se. She didn’t get along with Rigby or her ridiculous boyfriend, but that’s par for the course with those two. Rigby is a difficult person in general, and that idiot she’s seeing defends her every stupid move.”

  “That is something Curt would do. As much as he’s a cheat, he’s oddly loyal in just about every other way that doesn’t really count.”

  “How about your boyfriends?” Willow is quick to toss Felicity’s reverse harem under the bus—as she should. They are looking pretty guilty. “Let’s start with that rag tag hippie you dated. Rags the dingleberry. Your mother hated him with a passion. And Simon? Sure, she could appreciate him, but he owed her money.” She inches her head back as if she just discovered something. “I just had a thought. Rags was always broke, so Rhonda and her heart of gold stepped right up and gave him more than enough to get himself together. But the louse never bothered to pay a single dime back. And Simon? Rhonda gave him cash to start up his own business, but come to find out, there’s not a lot of money to be made in comics, so Rhonda never saw a dime of that money either. And then there’s Bear…” Willow expels an audible grunt. “He installed this island for Rhonda last year, and poor Rhonda hasn’t been able to give him more than a couple hundred dollars for it. She stiffed him for the labor and the cost of materials. Bear came in here raging one day, reminding Rhonda that she picked out the priciest slab of marble in the yard. It was embarrassing to witness.” She looks to Carlotta and nods.

  “Bear did that?” I look to Carlotta for confirmation, and she makes a face.

  “Funny, I don’t remember that. But, to be honest, ever since I learned that he broke my daughter’s heart, I tend to leave the room whenever he’s around.”

  “That’s very sweet of you,” I say. “But Bear and I have moved past all of that. So there’s no need to treat him any differently.” I look to Felicity. “It sounds like your mother had a lot of extra cash lying around, and she was very generous.”

  “I guess it does.”

  Willow heads to the register and comes back with a few black journals. “Lottie, here are the books I said I’d share with you. Rhonda was old-fashioned to the hilt and demanded we keep records of everything in writing. Please feel free to look around the shop anytime you want. I’m always here.”

  “Thank you,” I say, taking the books from her. Something about this visit is leaving me unsettled, and I can’t put my finger on why exactly. “Felicity? How about you? How are your finances? I mean, you’ve just amassed a new business and your mother’s home. I think that would be very overwhelming. Are you going to be okay?” There’s no way I was going to bring up the fact she might be rolling in one hundred thousand mob tainted dollars.

  She shudders as I say it. “Honestly, I’m already tapped out. Jana, the girl you met the day of my mother’s murder, she’s my new roommate and she’s been kind enough to hoof the rent for the both of us. Since she has her own party planning business, she’s allowing me to help out on the side. She’s also a wedding planner, and she’s graciously pointing all of her clients to The Enchanted Flower Shop. In fact, all these projects are for her.”

  “You’re tapped? As in no finances whatsoever?” What in the world did Felicity spend that hundred grand on?

  “All of the money I earned from working down at the art gallery dried up a long time ago. I’ve been waitressing out in Leeds for about month. I’m on leave right now until I can get all of these things sorted. But I’ve never been as successful in life as you, Lottie.”

  My cheeks burn with embarrassment and for no good reason. “I’d hardly call me a success. Baking is my passion. Just like flowers were your mother’s passion.” I bite my lip a moment. “Did she have any other passions that she used to ea
rn money on the side maybe?” Like working hand in hand with loan sharks?

  Willow takes a breath. “All that woman did was breathe this place and take care of others. She didn’t have time for another job.”

  “I see.” I look back to Felicity. “Do you think it’s a possibility that your mom had ties to any unsavory people? Say, street thugs with lots of spare change?”

  Macon hops over to the counter with the register and accidentally knocks over a glass vase that explodes on contact once it hits the floor.

  “Geez!” Felicity runs over, and I quickly help her sweep up the shards. “It’s like it flew off the counter. As if my mother herself was here and she wanted to say something.”

  “Or the vase was awfully close to the edge,” I offer. “And look”—I swipe my fingers over a puddle of water on the counter—“it’s wet. Gravity probably propelled it.” And then I see it. A framed picture of Rhonda with Macon on her shoulder. “Hey! What a great picture.”

  Felicity gives a sorrowful chuckle. “My mother loved that bird. We both did. He was like a brother to me.”

  Macon squawks as he lands softly on the counter next to Felicity’s side. “I love you!” he garbles the words out as loud as he can. “I love you, Felicity girl!”

  My heart both warms and breaks just witnessing the grievous exchange. I hate death, mostly for the separation it causes among loved ones.

  Felicity touches her hand to her chest, tears glittering in her eyes. “I know this is strange to hear, but it’s almost as if I can feel him here. This vase dropping is the exact kind of thing Macon would do for attention.” She bubbles with a short-lived laugh. “He could be a brat that way.”

  “I’m a brat! I’m a brat!” Macon parrots before mimicking Felicity’s laughter to a T.

  “Thanks for your time, ladies,” I say as I head to the door.

  Carlotta narrows her gaze my way. “But they didn’t answer your question. Did Rhonda have any unsavory ties to street thugs?” She looks to both Willow and Felicity.

  Felicity is quick to laugh off the idea. “That’s a hard no. I’m sure if she did I’d know about it. That sounds like something right out of a Pepper Patrick novel. Second book in the You Only Die Once series. Alice ran out of money, so she sought out a mob boss who delved in the loan shark business and offered to work for him for a piece of the take.” She laughs it off, and I’m struck with horror. It sounds as if Rhonda took a literal page right out of Pepper Patrick’s book. Instead of reading it for the work of fiction it was, she used it as a how-to manual.

  I wave to the three of them.

  “Oh, and Lottie?” Willow calls out. “Don’t forget. Tomorrow Pepper Patrick is holding a reading at the library.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll certainly be there.”

  “Good.” She offers an affable smile. “Rhonda wouldn’t want anyone to miss it. I’m sure it will be quite a show.”

  Macon leaves the flower shop with me. “Quite a show! Quite a show!” he sings out as we head back to the bakery.

  Felicity didn’t seem to have a clue about her mother’s illegal dealings. But Simon suggested otherwise. Clearly one of them is lying. Or Simon assumed that Felicity knew. That could be it, too.

  And lucky for Simon, nothing Felicity just said made him look suspicious in the least.

  Whoever is behind this, be it Simon, Felicity, or someone else entirely, they are handling every move with expert ease. And if any more time drifts by, they just might get away with murder.

  Chapter 13

  The Honey Hollow Public Library is once again the hotbed of attention but on a far more low-key level than it was the first time. Gone are the insatiable crowds, and in their place the residents of Honey Hollow and a few neighboring communities have come out to see and appreciate one of their favorite authors. Pepper has yet to arrive, so Lainey helps me set up the dessert table out in the foyer. I thought it would be a nice way to honor Rhonda. After all, it was Rhonda who made sure I’d have Pepper Patrick’s favorite dessert on hand to begin with. I spent a couple of hours last night cuddling with Pancake and Waffles on the couch while I read through those accounting books from the flower shop that Willow lent me. Sure enough, The Enchanted Flower Shop is well into the black. I’m not sure why, but it did give me some relief to see it. At least Rhonda was able to pass down a successful business to her daughter, and in that way her legacy will live on.

  I take a quick survey of the library, and I can tell my sister has been hard at work.

  “Everything looks great,” I say. I know for a fact Lainey has worked extra hard in making today’s signing go off without a homicidal hitch.

  “Thank you.” She wrinkles her nose as she peers into the library proper. “We thought this time we’d squeeze in as many seats as possible. At least if everyone is seated there might be some semblance of normalcy. It was such a zoo the last time.” She bumps her shoulder to mine. “Why haven’t you found the killer yet?” Lainey twitches her nose like she’s prone to do when she’s aggressively agitated. “You do realize I have a wedding coming up in July. The last person I want crashing that party is a homicidal maniac.”

  “I agree. And you also have a shower coming up in June because Mom, Meg, and I happen to be throwing it. You’re welcome.”

  “Aw.” Lainey gives one of her caramel tresses a brief tug. “You guys are the best. And speaking of the best, I’ve officially hired Felicity’s BFF as my wedding planner.”

  “Jana March? That’s great! Felicity says she’s really good at what she does. And that means The Enchanted Flower shop will get some serious business off you, too. Felicity says Jana always recommends them.”

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t think of going anywhere else.”

  A couple of women cackle their way into the foyer, and we turn to find two of Noah’s exes, Britney and Cormack. They pause a moment before heading this way.

  “Lolly”—Cormack shakes her head—“we need a tiebreaker. Brit here thinks that Chinese is Noah’s favorite food, and I say it’s Italian. So who has it?”

  It feels as if a horrific weight has just pressed down over me, highlighting the fact that Noah and I are no longer together. Of course, we’re not together. I’m looking right at his wife and his wannabe girlfriend. How could there possibly be any room for me in the equation?

  “Italian. At least that’s what I gather to be true. Although, he might secretly favor Chinese. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s held sensitive information from me.” I twitch my lips at Noah’s legal other half.

  Brit makes a face. “Italian it is. I never did claim to understand that man.”

  And I can’t understand what he saw in her. It was a clear case of opposites attract, and I take a moment to inspect her sultry sense of style, the way her hair drips gracefully over her face. Never mind. I completely understand what he saw in her.

  Cormack shakes her fists to the ceiling with glee as she squeals. “I just can’t wait for tonight. I’ve got an entire picnic planned back at my place.” She gives a sly wink my way.

  “At the B&B?” Lainey looks as if she might be sick on my account.

  “That’s right.” I shake my head wistfully as I spot Macon in the corner. I think I’m about to give him a task. To find Greer Giles and make sure she has her party dress on because Cormack’s picnic is about to turn into a haunted double date.

  “I know.” Cormack flicks a wrist at my sister. “I’ve stayed in hovels before, but this is the worst. Thankfully, Miranda gave me a room with a fireplace in it. If I remember correctly, Noah does appreciate the finer points of a fireplace.”

  Britney is quick to high-five her. “Now that I do remember!” The two of them take off. “See you girls inside! We’ll save you seats!”

  Lainey scoffs. “I think they’re starting to like us. I’m not sure I like them liking us.”

  “Me either.”

  I’m about to clear the foyer of all the empty boxes from the cheesecake I’ve haule
d in when Mom and Meg traipse over.

  Meg leans in, and her heavily drawn in eyes give her an escalated sense of drama. “Do you think the killer is back? They say the killer always returns to the scene of the crime.”

  Rigby and Curt walk in as if on cue and head this way.

  “Speak of the devil,” Lainey growls. She won’t be joining the Curt Vanderlin fan club anytime soon.

  “Look who’s here.” Mom lifts her brows at this man who once swore he’d be her son forever. Okay, so he never said it to her face, but the sentiment was there once he proposed to me. “I can’t believe you took my daughter’s heart and smashed it like a cheap dinner plate. And you have the nerve to show your face in Honey Hollow. You’re nothing but an arrogant, controlling, manipulative jackass.”

  Rich Dallas appears from nowhere and snatches her by the waist. “Woman! Don’t waste time gabbing. We’re darn near going to miss Pepper Patrick.” He darts off with her before I can praise her way with words.

  A dull sigh expels from me. “At least I know where I got my hankering for arrogant, controlling, manipulative jackasses.” I pump out a short-lived smile to Curt.

  “Lot, you got to help.” He reaches over and places a sweaty hand on my arm. “They’re closing in on Rigby. The sheriff thinks she did this.”

  Rigby nods so hard her eyes are oscillating. “I may not have liked my aunt, but I would never kill her.”

  The interior of the library fills with bodies as a buzz of excitement grows around us.

  I glance back and catch Felicity seated near the signing table with Willow next to her on one side and Simon on the other.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the real killer is apprehended—whoever that may be.” I give both Curt and Rigby a look that says I’m watching you. “Can I ask you a quick question?”

  She shrugs. “Sure, anything.”