Red, White, and Blueberry Muffin Murder

by Addison Moore

  “Don’t worry, Foxy,” Carlotta calls out. “I’ll get it all on tape for you so you can play it back later.”

  “Don’t you—” I’m about to reprimand Carlotta, but Noah and his magic hands are at it again and I’m right back to moaning and groaning at the top of my lungs.

  “A-hem.” Cormack shoots Noah a threatening look, and soon she’s moaning right alongside me.

  We howl up a storm as Noah brings us both to a rather satisfying conclusion and every kink in my back has been successfully dissolved.

  “Oh wow!” Cormack shouts. “Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Cormack wiggles and pants until she flops herself up onto the embankment and clutches the grass.

  Noah is good. I’ll give him that.

  A maniacal laugh strums from Carlotta. “The Trickle Tickle strikes again. That’s enough footage for one day.” She chucks her phone to the side. “Get cookin’, Harry. I’ve got a kinky side, too, you know,” she says, pointing to the top of her shoulders.

  He gets to work just as I tap Noah’s chest with my foot and hitch my head toward Sammy.

  Noah catches my foot and kisses the top of my big toe as a forlorn look crosses his face.

  “I miss making you glow like that.” He touches his finger to my nose.

  “Who do you think put that glow on my face?” I ask, standing up and taking him with me. “Come on. Sammy is all by herself over there. Let’s go shake her down.”

  We get out of the water and the heated air dries us off almost instantly.

  Noah picks up his phone and wags it my way.

  “In case I need to take notes.” It buzzes in his hand, and I can see it’s a text from Everett with the words I’m going to kill you.

  “I’m going to kill you?” I lift a brow his way.

  He winces at the screen. “I take it he’s seen the video.”

  “Wonderful.” I glance back at Carlotta, who’s splashing around as if she was trying not to drown.

  Noah and I make our way over to Sammy, and the first thing I notice is a long scar running up the side of her right leg. The flesh around it is sunken in and swollen, a shade lighter than the rest of her skin along the pale thick line.

  “I see you looking at it,” she says with a light laugh as she tosses a beach towel into a bag. “I got it that night.” She offers a complacent smile to Noah. “Of the break-in.” She looks my way. “A few years back, Clark and I had a couple of masked men break into our home. They wanted jewelry and money. They roughed us up quite a bit. I got the bloodier end of the stick, you might say. They carved my leg, my arm.” She touches another less prevalent scar on her forearm. “They gashed my stomach open, too. Clark was knocked out, but when he came to, they were gone so he called for help. I was almost dead on the floor by then.” She shivers a moment. “It was a long time ago, but it feels like yesterday. And now Clark is gone.” She shakes her head. “It’s all so hard to believe.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “What do you think happened? Did someone have a vendetta against him?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” She pulls on a beaded cover-up over her bathing suit, and it’s the same style as the one she had on the other night with the exception that this one is baby blue—and has far less blood on it. “We haven’t been close in years. We were pretty much keeping to ourselves, just waiting to see if we could work things out, I guess.”

  Noah turns his head, his eyes still latched to hers. “But you lived in the same house, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right.” She ticks her head to the side. “We were two perfect strangers living under the same roof. Can you believe it? I can hardly believe it myself. I don’t have any kids. But Clark had two daughters—both grown and married. One lives in Maine and the other in Florida. They’re both coming out for the memorial service. The older, Lydia, has already tried me in the court of public opinion and hung me for her father’s murder.” She glances to the sky as if it were absurd. “I didn’t do it. You both saw me come upon the scene. I was in shock seeing him like that.”

  Someone calls her name from across the way and she motions for them to wait.

  “Sammy”—I lean in before she trots off—“do you have any idea who could have done this to him?”

  Her lips move from side to side just as a spray of silver stars appears above her head like a halo and Leo lands over her shoulder. His tail whips her in the face every few seconds as he licks his paw as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  I take up Noah’s hand so he can hear Leo, too.

  “Has she confessed yet?” Leo inspects Sammy at close range.

  I shake my head his way.

  “She will,” Leo assures me. “She swore to me that one day she’d confess to all her crimes.”

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  Sammy nods. “If anyone has the answer, it’s Bridger Douglas. That is, if he didn’t do the deed himself. Sure, they were friends, but they worked together closely, too. And if I know anything about Clark Willoughby, it’s that people could only take him in small doses. He’s kind and harmless as a kitten from a distance, but when you dig down deep he’s as caustic as that Bengal cat he used to have. Boy, that thing was all piss and vinegar.” She leans our way. “I finally fed that thing to coyotes.” She winks as she takes off.

  Leo lets out a hearty roar. “She’s pure evil, Lottie. Don’t believe a word she says, except perhaps that last part.” He leaps through Noah’s chest and disappears.

  Noah sways for a moment. “Whoa. I think the heat’s getting to me. Let’s get home to Lyla Nell. What do you want to do for dinner?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry for another suspect.”

  “Bridger Douglas?”

  I nod. “And I know exactly who can put him on the menu.”

  Lottie

  “Noah is going to die,” Everett says with a look of rage in his eyes as he glares at the soon-to-be deceased. But I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not going to let Everett die either.

  “Everett, stop,” I say, not daring to get too close to the action.

  It’s evening, the sun has set, the air is as warm as a furnace, and the scent of night jasmine and fresh oven baked pizza lights up our senses.

  The three of us are standing right outside of Mangias, looking spiffy enough for me to call this a date night of sorts.

  As soon as I asked Everett if we could meet with Bridger for dinner, he made arrangements and Bridger agreed to meet us here at seven-thirty. That gave me plenty of time to hang out with Lyla Nell and nurse her. Noah hung out with us, too, and it’s been a nice day overall right up until Everett got out of his SUV about a minute ago and pinned Noah to the wall by way of his fists balled up in Noah’s shirt.

  “I gave you one inch and you had to take a mile,” Everett grits it through his teeth.

  Noah’s hands fly up. “It was perfectly innocent.”

  “The hell it was.” Everett lets go of Noah with a shove. “It’s never innocent with you. Not when it comes to Lemon.”

  “It was innocent,” I say as I pull Everett to me. “And what did you mean by you gave him an inch?”

  Everett shoots Noah a dark look.

  “Nothing.” Everett lands a calm kiss to my lips as if the shoving match hadn’t even happened.

  If I’ve learned anything between the two of them, it’s that once in a while a good shoving match is all that’s needed to reduce their urge to kill.

  “So”—I iron Everett’s shirt with my hands—“how was the courthouse?” I bite down on my lip as I examine my handsome husband. The scruff on his cheek is darkened by the night shadows, and it only makes his eyes siren out like twin blue beacons all the more. My heart thumps each time I look at him. And his anger is only giving him the bad boy appeal that drives women batty—me included.

  “It was fine. No one was sentenced today. All I had to do was sit back and listen. Not a bad day at the office.” His jaw redefines itself as he looks to No
ah, and a part of me wonders if they’re speaking in code.

  Noah’s phone goes off and he glances to the screen.

  “Okay”—Noah blows out a breath—“this is what I was afraid of. Toxicology came back and Rooster was indeed poisoned with snake venom.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” I nod. “His demise was natural. That means the mob didn’t suddenly start making good on those lethal promises. Maybe they have a heart after all?”

  A heart that will hopefully choose not to kill Noah and Everett.

  “No, they don’t have a heart,” Noah says. “The venom in Rooster’s blood was from a Russell’s viper. The Russell’s viper isn’t indigenous to Vermont or anywhere else in the United States. Not only that, Rooster had almost twice the venom a viper could dispense at a time. That bite mark on his arm was meant to throw us. They found an injection site on his arm.”

  Everett nods. “They got him. But don’t think for a minute they didn’t know you and your men would figure this out. It’s a warning. They can make it look like an accident if they want, and I’m guessing when they go after a cop and a judge, they’ll do just that. For as dirty as they are, they do like to keep their noses clean.”

  My entire body comes alive with fear for the two of them.

  “Everett,” I moan. “I won’t let that happen. I promise.”

  “Hey ho, the gang’s all here,” a deep voice calls from behind and we spot Bridger Douglas with a grin on his face. His dark curly hair looks as if it has a blue cast in this dim light, and he quickly slaps both Noah and Everett with a manly handshake before offering me a much more civil version. “So let’s catch up. I came hungry. And this is my treat. I won’t hear of anything different.”

  We share a warm laugh as we head on in. Mangias is the best—even if it is the only—Italian restaurant in Honey Hollow. It’s been our go-to place for as long as I can remember. If we’re not here, we’re picking up takeout at least four times a week.

  It’s dimly lit, the floors and furniture are comprised of dark wood, and the scent of garlic and perfectly stewed marinara sauce calls us to attention. An Italian version of soft rock music is playing, and for the first time, I spot bodies congregating near the back where there seems to be a makeshift dance floor.

  “Hey!” Sergio, a partial owner here, is the first to greet us. He’s tall, with dark hair, and always has a smile at the ready.

  “Hi, Sergio,” I say. “Is the dancing thing new?”

  He shrugs. “A couple of women insisted we clear a space. They said they needed men and they were going to fish in the pond they were standing in. You know I can’t deny a beautiful woman anything.” He winks my way and nods as if I should know what that means. “Just four tonight?”

  “Just four,” Noah says, and I shoot him a look.

  “Are you sure your stalker isn’t going to join us?” I ask. “Maybe we should save Sergio the trouble and make it five?”

  Noah’s brows hook together. “Are you trying to jinx me, Lot? Sergio, we’re sticking to four.”

  Everett’s chest rumbles with a silent laugh. “If that video Carlotta sent me this afternoon is any indication, Cormack will want more of that action sooner than later.”

  Noah groans, “Dude, don’t say her name. The last thing I want is for us to conjure her up.”

  Bridger laughs at Noah’s expense as Sergio lands us at a table near those gyrating bodies.

  “Everett, you’ve certainly had your fair share of sticky women,” Bridger points his way as he says it. “I’m sure you could give Noah a few tips on how to cut the cord.”

  Everett’s lips curve. “This woman has a chain, not a cord. And my hot tip for Noah would be go for it.” He sheds a short-lived smile and you can practically see the sarcasm dripping off of him. “You’re single. She’s single. I don’t see the problem here.”

  Noah’s expression hardens.

  I look to poor Bridger, who is going to feel clueless despite the fact he’ll very much feel the tension.

  “Noah and I used to date,” I tell him. “We share a daughter—the baby that was with me at the lake that day. And as I mentioned at the lake, Everett and I are married.”

  “It’s a technicality,” Noah says without missing a beat. “Everett wanted to sink his claws into his daddy’s trust fund and needed a wife to complete the transaction. Lottie has a good heart, so she volunteered to do the deed. She was my girlfriend first. We were married ourselves a short time before Everett hired a bunch of legal eagles to dismantle that union.”

  Bridger’s head ticks back a notch. “Whoa. I got a little dizzy when you zigged and zagged.”

  “Don’t worry,” Everett tells him. “I can’t keep up either.”

  I look to Bridger and laugh. “And Everett’s the smartest one in the room.”

  “Hey,” Noah says my way.

  “Ooh, sorry.” I tap my lips with my fingers in an effort from doing any more damage with them.

  I’m about to ensure Noah of his cerebral prowess when a sprinkle of silver stars appears to my right and Leo materializes in his full Bengal cat glory.

  Leo’s nose twitches in Bridger’s direction as if he were sniffing the man out.

  “Oh, it’s him,” Leo growls, and I quickly pick up both Noah’s and Everett’s hands so they can listen in on the celestial conversation. “Clark liked the guy. They were a little too chummy, Sammy used to say. She didn’t trust him. But I’ll tell you who I didn’t trust—Sammy. The woman is wicked. Ask Bridger. I take it he didn’t care much for her either.”

  Bridger squints as he looks down at our conjoined hands.

  “I can see you still hold Noah in high regard.” A nervous smile swims on his lips as he looks my way. “To each his own,” he mutters that last part under his breath.

  We order up a couple of pizzas, and they seem to be delivered just as quick.

  We’re about to dig in when a murmur erupts around us and we note people looking over at the dance floor and covering their mouths as if holding back a laugh.

  I glance that way momentarily before doing a double take.

  “Oh Mylanta.” I close my eyes in hopes when I open them that it would have all been a bad dream but nope—there they are, Carlotta and Charlie doing some weird thumb hitching, foot jerking moves, drawing unnecessary attention to themselves as if it were their lot in life. And I’ll bet dollars to donuts it is.

  “Excuse me,” I say as I cut through the crowd, risking my reputation as I land in front of them.

  Leo leaps onto my shoulder and I can feel his heft when he lands. It always amazes me that the dead have the power to feel as solid in every capacity as they choose.

  “Carlotta, Charlie,” I hiss and they both momentarily cease all movement despite the fact the song marches on. “What in the heck is happening to the two of you? Are you having some sort of mother-daughter seizure? Because if not, you’re scaring the customers—me included.”

  Charlie lifts a finger and Leo jumps onto her shoulder, caressing her neck with his tail as if they’ve been a team all along.

  “It’s called having a good time,” Charlie snips my way. “Something I see you’re allergic to. Carlotta was right about you.”

  “Enough about me, what’s with the scary moves?”

  Carlotta nods to Charlie. “Didn’t I tell ya those moves were too powerful? Now the entire place is going to want in on our secret.”

  “What secret?” I ask.

  Carlotta huffs, “May as well tell her, Cha Cha. She is family, after all.”

  Charlie gives a bored glance to the ceiling. “This is our we-need-a-man dance. Whenever we put out these moves, it sends a signal to the universe and men come crawling out of the woodwork, trying to make off with us and make us their own.”

  I don’t even know where to begin with this one.

  “Charlie”—I decide to address the slightly more lucid of the two—“you’re trying to tell me this is your mating dance?” I ask and she nods. “
Honey, those men weren’t crawling out of the woodwork. They were stumbling over from the bar from which they inebriated themselves. And the reason they were trying to make off with you is because they wanted to take you to bed. They weren’t looking for a long-term relationship. All they wanted was some wham, bam, thank you, Cha Cha.”

  Carlotta nudges Charlie in the ribs. “Told you she was a slow learner.”

  Charlie thumps out a laugh. “So you cracked the code, now scat.” She stomps her foot in front of me. “You’re cramping our style. I had three prospects before you showed up.”

  “Fine.” I reach over and yank Leo back into my arms. “But I’m taking my cat with me.”

  I head back to the table just as the three of them share a quick laugh.

  Bridger gives a wistful tick of the head. “I was just telling Noah an old story about your husband. I’d repeat it, but I don’t believe in sharing stories like that around ladies. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” In fact, I’d rather not hear it. I completely understand that Everett had a wild past. But I’d like to keep the past where it belongs—in the rearview mirror.

  Leo bounces out of my arms and sits at the edge of one of the pizzas they’ve already dived into. His tan fur and dark stripes and spots give him the appeal of a much more dangerous cat—one I wouldn’t fight with over a slice of pizza or anything else for that matter.

  I take up a slice and start in myself—as does Leo. Here’s hoping Bridger doesn’t care that a slice of pizza is slowly evaporating into thin air.

  Noah lowers his chin as he looks to Bridger. “Not to darken the subject, but the night Clark died we lost another man, too.”

  “That’s right.” Bridger dabs his mouth with his napkin. “I saw there were two bodies on the shore. For the life of me I don’t know what that was about.”

  “How could you?” Everett shakes his head. “The odds of two men dying within feet apart is unbelievable. But then, Honey Hollow has had a run of bad luck for a while now.”