Red, White, and Blueberry Muffin Murder

by Addison Moore

  “What?” I say, extracting the furry cutie off Charlie’s shoulder and into my arms. “You can’t go to work with her.” Not only should he be spending time with me, specifically solving this case, but Charlie works at a seedy strip club. It’s a long, sordid story, one I’m hoping ends quickly. “You have to come to work with me. We’re working on a case, remember?”

  A low growl comes from Leo. “All right, fine. But make it snappy, would you? Charlie works at that club Clark used to frequent. He’d come home and tell me all about it. So may pussycats to behold, I can’t possibly bear being apart from them another minute.”

  I frown over at my look-alike sister. “It’s pussycat galore, all right. But they have nothing to do with the felines in general. Red Satin is a gentlemen’s club.”

  Carlotta nods. “Sounds as if Clark was tossing dollars to the scantily clad among us.”

  “That might explain the separation from his wife,” I say.

  “Is the battle-axe still around?” Leo jerks his spotted little head my way, and I can’t help but bite down on a smile. His question came out so genuine.

  “If you’re talking about Sammy, then yes,” I say. “I take it you knew her?”

  “Oh yes, I was around up until just a few years ago. I suppose I would have been around a bit longer, but Sammy let me out of the house one night and I got into a tussle with a coyote. I had already taken down three of his ornery kind, but alas, he got the best of me. Clark liked to keep me inside. He told Sammy I was to be strictly an indoor cat. But if I mewled loud enough, or dragged my claws over Sammy’s favorite sofa, she’d boot me outside as a punishment. That’s where the real fun began for me. Clark used to say Red Satin was his playground. Well, the woods behind the Willoughbys’ lakefront home were mine.”

  Charlie plucks him right out of my arms. “I’m actually not on the schedule tonight, Leo. But you’re welcome to come down to work with me as soon as my mean ol’ big sister is through with you. I’m on again tomorrow night.” She tucks her mouth next to his ear. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Lottie is a battle-axe, too.”

  “I am not.” I quickly swipe a fudge brownie from the bakery shelf and feed it to the flirty feline.

  A moan comes from him. “Now this is living. You don’t have this in tuna, do you?”

  “No, but stick with me and I’ll make it in any flavor you like.”

  The dead weren’t always capable of noshing on my sweet treats, but as my abilities grew, so did theirs. I seem to hold a sphere of influence among the dead and I don’t know why, but I suppose since they’re here to help me, it makes sense in a way. Once the case is solved, the ghosts usually pop right back to paradise, although those ghosts haunting the halls of my mother’s B&B seem to have an extended day pass.

  “So where are we headed, Lot Lot?” Carlotta demands. “We gotta move before Little Yippy sends Miranda to the funny farm, and you end up back on diaper duty. Besides that, you and I both know your boobs are on a timer. If you don’t want them to turn into bowling balls, we’ll have to act fast.”

  She’s not wrong. If I go too long without nursing, my boobs turn to stone—and worse yet, they begin to weep, with milk, of course. Thus, the boob diapers Carlotta brought up earlier.

  “I don’t know,” I say, pulling out my phone and fiddling with it. “It doesn’t look like Sammy Willoughby has any social media sites, or at least none that she keeps up regularly enough to rat out her location.”

  My phone buzzes in my hand and it’s text from Noah.

  Are you free for a hot date?

  Both Charlie and Carlotta inspect my phone and proceed to make catcalls.

  “Stop,” I say as I let Noah know I’ve got a suspect to track down. At least I’m being honest about it this time.

  He texts back. If Sammy Willoughby is on your hit list, then it’s your lucky day. I’m headed up to her couple’s massage class and need someone to couple with.

  “You bet,” I say as I text him those exact same words. “Well, Leo, it looks as if we’re in business.”

  My phone bleats again.

  “Wear a bathing suit. I’ll pick you up at the house in twenty minutes,” I read. “A bathing suit? Regardless, we’re going to have a great time, Leo. With Noah and me both grilling Sammy, we might make huge strides when it comes to the killer.”

  Leo twitches his head toward Charlie. “Should I go with her?”

  She shrugs his way. “I guess so.”

  His little mouth falls open. “But you said I couldn’t trust her.”

  “What?” I say, poking my sister in the arm.

  Leo nods. “She told me all about the property you stole right from under her. She said you’re holding back her inheritance like a miser. Are you a miser, Lottie Lemon?”

  I make a face at the two of them. “I’m no miser.”

  “Then give me half of what Grandma Nell left you,” Charlie doesn’t miss a miserly beat.

  “No,” I snip it out harsher than intended just as Suze passes by us.

  “You sound awful miserly to me,” she sings.

  “Never mind that right now. Stick with me, Leo. You’re about to be reunited with Sammy Willoughby.”

  Carlotta nods while tapping into her phone. “And I’m about to do a little couple’s massage with Harry.” She sheds an ear-to-ear grin my way. “A killer good time will be had by all.”

  “Emphasis on killer,” I say.

  And that’s exactly where my emphasis will be.

  Lottie

  It turns out, this couple’s massage class is a traveling troupe. And today’s locale of choice is a nearby stream known as the Trickle. It’s tucked away in the woods just above the Honey Hollow Public Library, the exact place where my sister, Lainey, works as the head librarian. And I bet if she wanted, she could see us parading around up here in our bathing suits.

  At least thirteen couples have shown up for the occasion. The women have predominantly donned one-piece bathing suits, but a couple of the twenty-somethings have opted for skimpy dental floss masquerading as two-pieces. And don’t for a minute think I didn’t fire a silent threat to Noah should he choose to do a visual inspection. Most of the men here have already given them the once-over, but Noah’s wisdom and fear of me has led him to think better of it.

  I’m firmly in the one-piece division. It’s a swimsuit I bought recently and have worn a handful of times since having Lyla Nell. I may be bursting at the seams, but I’m just thrilled I was able to squeeze myself into it. I may have had the baby, but my body seems to be holding onto the baby weight. Stuffing my face with crullers every morning isn’t exactly helping the situation either.

  Noah takes off his shirt and tosses it onto a nearby rock. I can’t help but notice that he looks lean and mean and perfectly sculpted.

  “My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” he teases.

  I make a face at him. “I was just thinking you look just as fit as ever. No fair seeing that we both had a baby. You were just as hungry as I was half the time.”

  His dimples dig in deep. “You’re right. No offense to Mother Nature, but I didn’t think any of that was fair. I wish I could have done it all for you.” He wraps his arms around me and touches his nose to mine. “Next time we’re having a baby, I’ll make sure to eat twice as many fried pickles as you do.”

  “Sounds fair to me.”

  His brows arch. “You’re giving me hope. I like that.”

  “Stop,” I tease, swatting him away.

  “Hello, Lottie,” Leo mewls, perched on a boulder not too far away. With his caramel-colored coat and those dark spots and stripes, he looks like a miniature cheetah in the wild.

  The woods are dense, but there’s a clearing here next to the stream, which really is more of a slow moving trickle. The air is heated, but since the evergreens offer an ample amount of shade it feels pleasant. And the scent of the pines, mixed with damp earth, makes me feel grounded with nature.

  “Hey, Leo,” I whisper his
way. “Do you see Sammy?” I take up Noah’s hand so he can hear Leo, too. I learned a while back that I act as a supernatural conduit, and those that just so happen to be touching me can hear the dead as well.

  “I see her.” He whips his tail back and forth while giving a mean look to Sammy Willoughby standing up stream a bit, helping couples take a seat in the water.

  It looks so refreshing and I can’t wait to get in. The stream is clear, only about a foot and a half deep at most, and the bottom is covered with large smooth stones.

  “She hasn’t changed a bit,” Leo says. “I’m assuming you know she’s guilty.”

  “What?” Noah and I whisper his way in unison.

  “Oh yes, she’s been threatening to murder him for years. It was an everyday phrase around the house.”

  “That’s probably all it was,” I whisper. “I can’t imagine her murdering her husband, estranged or not.”

  Noah ticks his head. “She is teaching a class less than forty-eight hours after his demise. She’s either strong as steel or couldn’t care less.”

  “It’s the latter,” Leo says as he stands on his hind legs and stretches his front paws as he elongates his frame. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to roam. I smell a raccoon sleeping nearby. I think I’ll have a little fun with it.” He twitches his tail back and forth before leaping off the rock like a cougar.

  “And he’s off,” I say.

  “I bet he’s a cool looking cat,” Noah says. “I thought of getting a Bengal myself.”

  “How did you know he was a Bengal?”

  “You described him perfectly.”

  “So what stopped you from picking one up?”

  “The price tag. The breeder wanted more than I paid for my first truck. They’re great cats, a little wild, and yet they have dog-like tendencies. So I opted for the dog.”

  “Toby was an excellent choice.”

  A bell goes off a few feet away and we look to find Sammy Willoughby with a chime in her hand. Her thin body looks that much more elongated with her black one-piece on. Her skin is heavily tanned and her arms and legs are well toned. Her dark hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and I can’t help but notice that she looks well rested. Her eyes aren’t puffy in the least.

  “All right, I see we have a few new students here. Welcome one and all.” She nods our way. “Detective Fox, I’m glad to see you took me up on my offer. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

  “Don’t start!” a familiar voice chirps from a distance and we look back to see Carlotta and Mayor Nash doing a little bowlegged side-to-side shuffle as they scoot their way over. Mayor Nash has on a pair of swimming trunks that travel past his knees and he’s paired it with a white tank top—oh wait, I think those are his tan lines.

  Oh dear Lord.

  Carlotta’s no better with her itsy-bitsy pink polka dot bikini, but thankfully, she has a neon green inner tube around her waist, sparing us from seeing too much flesh.

  “We’re here! We made it!” she shouts as they land beside Noah and me. “As you were.”

  I give a little wave to Mayor Nash before reverting my attention back to Sammy.

  “As most of you know, this isn’t just a massage class,” Sammy says above the hum of nature. “This is a spiritual adventure that brings healing to your body, your mind, and your relationship. Though each of you has issues that vary in severity, the one commonality you share is that you are here to work to make yourself better together.” She claps her hands. “Now get into that water and sit facing one another, knee to knee, holding hands, and we’ll get started with our first exercise as we enter into our affirmations to one another.”

  Noah and I get right into the water and it feels icy cold, and yet the sensation is a welcome reprieve from the sweltering heat.

  Noah lets out a hearty groan as we sink into the water together.

  “Whoo!” I let out a quick cry and Carlotta lets one rip twice as loud.

  “My tush is gonna freeze off,” Carlotta bleats.

  Mayor Nash laughs. “Yeah, and the rest of you will melt. It’s a scorcher today. We had thirteen people faint at the lake. It’s panning out to be a real natural disaster. Speaking of which…” He grimaces my way. “The preservation society made it official. The construction of your new home is frozen from here on out.”

  “Until?” I hold my breath as I wait for an answer.

  He grimaces. “Well, until the butterfly has had ample time to replenish its species in the wild.”

  “Oh, is that all? I counted at least eight cocoons nestled up in that bush. I’m sure they’ll morph into butterflies soon enough. Maybe a week or two?”

  “Oh no.” He shakes his head emphatically. “It’ll take a good fifteen seasons or so for the preservation society to be satisfied. We’ve been through this before with the three-toed frog. It’s a long, arduous process, but it’s a good feeling to know you’re doing your part for nature.”

  “That’s me,” I say as I shoot Noah a look. “Just doing my part for nature.” I lean his way. “You didn’t plant those butterflies, did you?”

  A dark laugh strums through him. “No, but if I did, I would have tossed in a few in Everett’s boxers. I wouldn’t mind if he was a no-fly zone for fifteen seasons.” He scoots in another notch. “Speaking of Everett—”

  A wail-like cry comes from behind.

  “Wait for me!” That last word stretches out in a melodic warble and we turn to see a bleach blonde in a skimpy two-piece bouncing those beach balls in her bikini top all the way over.

  “For the love of all things good.” I give Noah a little kick in the rear. “Why does your stalker have to be so proficient?” I ask as Cormack plops right next to him.

  “Big Boss.” She smothers his cheek with kisses as her hands rake up and down his body. “I didn’t realize you needed me for a stakeout.” She gives his face a brisk slap and Noah blinks over at me.

  “That’s what you get.” I shrug over at him.

  He inches back from his assaulter. “How’d you find me?”

  “I talked to Ivy when I couldn’t reach you. I was half afraid you were in danger. She told me exactly where you were headed. Why would you bring Essex’s wife when you could have brought me?”

  There’s a genuine look of hurt in her eyes, and a part of me feels sorry for her.

  “Did you forget about our little agreement?” She tries to peck another kiss to his cheek and Noah expertly evades the effort.

  “No, I didn’t,” he says it flat and somewhat angry.

  “What agreement?” I whisper to him as if she magically couldn’t hear me, and a part of me thinks that’s true with Cormack.

  She turns a shoulder up my way. “None of your business, Lima.”

  The class starts and Sammy directs us into various stretching exercises that require some serious pulling and tugging between Noah and me. For the most part, Cormack seems content rubbing his belly and trying to press her body as close to his side as possible.

  I’m about three seconds from stoning the witch. And maybe Noah, too, for tolerating it.

  “Now”—Sammy calls out—“we’re going to head into the deep tissue massages. Men first. Ladies, I’ll give you a brief demonstration of today’s techniques.” She comes our way and looks to Noah and me. “Would the two of you mind demonstrating for the rest of us?”

  “Not at all,” I say as I sit up and adjust my top. Now that I’ll have a broader audience, I want to ensure my bits and pieces stay within the bounds of my bathing suit seeing they’ve been known to escape on occasion.

  Cormack lifts a finger. “But it’s not just the two of them. It’s the three of us.”

  “What?” I hiss over at her in shock, but oddly enough, Noah seems to be taking it all in stride.

  Sammy shakes her fist in the air and gives a little cheer.

  “Let’s welcome our first throuple!”

  Carlotta chuckles. “Maybe yours, Toots, but not hers. That’s Lot Lot’s specialty.” />
  I glower a moment at the woman who bore me.

  “I am not in a throuple with Cormack,” I hiss her way.

  Sammy comes over and has Noah sit facing the other direction while Cormack and I sit on either side of him and offer Noah our best massaging efforts.

  Sammy shows us how to knead our elbows into his back.

  “Now do your best to lie over him, come on, side by side, you’ll have to make room.” She flicks her fingers for us to hurry. Noah lies forward and rests his head on a rock with his nose just above water.

  Carlotta hacks out a laugh. “Hear that, Lot? You’ll have to make room.” She smacks Sammy on the thigh. “You’ll have to excuse her. She’s not that good at sharing her men. Lot is more used to having two men lying over her back. That’s why the paternity of Little Yippy was such a mystery for nine long months. But Foxy’s swimmers took the gold.”

  “All right,” I snip at her. “We get it.” I motion for Sammy to continue because I’m not sure how much longer the left side of my body can take being pressed up to Cormack like this. I’ve held Noah like this plenty of times, but having Cormack encroach in our personal space makes me more than a little twitchy. It makes me want to slap both Cormack and Noah—and maybe myself for getting involved in yet another throuple.

  We get on with the massage as a class, then move on to changing positions, and we do just that.

  “Noah,” Sammy calls out. “You’ll have to work twice as hard to make sure both of your partners are satisfied. But I have a feeling you’re already well experienced in that department.”

  I shoot a dirty look Noah’s way that says don’t you dare.

  Noah starts in on my shoulders, and I let out a little cry.

  “Oh, right there,” I say, tapping the spot next to my neck. “I’ve got a horrible knot. I stayed up all night nursing the baby, and I tried to sleep in the rocking chair.”