“Well, I didn’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. The only thing I was instructed to provide was lemon bars, and I can tell you emphatically there was not a nut in the bunch.”
Captain Turner, Jack as I’ve only ever called him, tips his head to the side as if suddenly interested in anything I might have to say.
Noah comes over with his leggy, redheaded vixen-esque partner in anti-crime, Detective Ivy Fairbanks.
Jack nods my way. “Lottie here was just about to tell us what was in those lemon bars.”
“This is ridiculous. It’s just your basic lemon bar recipe. I make a cookie crust, but I like to double the butter to really give it that rich nutty taste that only butter can afford.” I seize for a moment. “I meant nutty in the figurative sense. There are really only a few ingredients we’re looking at here—flour, the aforementioned butter, sugar, salt, eggs, lemons, of course, powdered sugar for sifting on top, and that’s about it.”
Jack glances to the exit. “I think I’m going to find your mother and inspect the kitchen in the event there could have been cross-contamination. I’m afraid we’ll have to inspect the bakery as well.”
“Sure, that won’t be a problem at all. I’m very careful when I bake, and I’m a stickler for a clean and sanitary environment. You’re more than welcome to send all the deputies you want over. I’ll call Lily and tell her to expect you.” Lily Swanson is the best friend of my self-proclaimed nemesis, Naomi Turner—ironically Captain Jack Turner’s other daughter and Keelie’s twin. Lily helps me run the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, but prior to that she couldn’t stand me simply for the fact she needed to remain loyal to Naomi’s ridiculous grudge. But she managed to put all differences aside in the name of a paycheck.
Jack takes off, and Keelie follows him. Lainey makes a face as she eyes the exit where Mom is consoling her psychotic fiancé while he pitches an absolute fit of rage.
Lainey holds herself as she observes the verbal onslaught. “Rich is really freaking out.”
“I heard him say he can’t stand the sight of a dead body. Maybe have Mom take him home?” I look to Noah as if asking permission since he gave us strict instructions not to leave the premises.
Noah looks to Ivy, and Ivy shrugs as if she were indifferent, so Lainey takes off and does just that.
Ivy steps in, and her perfectly drawn in cat’s eyes narrow in on me. “Why is it there is always a body count with you?”
I spot Max Finmore kneeling next to Nessa’s body with his back convulsing as if he were weeping.
I take a quick breath. “I think the more important question is, why is it that I always beat the Ashford Homicide Division to the punch when it comes to identifying the killer?” I cinch a smile up at her, and it only makes her scowl harder. I’m about to step away when Noah lands in front of me.
“It’s because you’re the best, Lottie.” A marked sadness blooms in his eyes. “You don’t think this was an accident, do you?” He studies my features a moment as if to assess what I’m thinking.
“I don’t.” I shake my head as I look to Max. “And hopefully I’m about to confirm that.”
“How? Not even forensics will be able to decipher cross-contamination from a poisoning.”
“I can save you a whole lot of trouble. There was no cross-contamination.” I head toward the crowd of deputies and firemen carrying on conversations around Nessa’s body. Her eyes are still opened as she looks to the ceiling, her lips are pulled back with horror, and her right hand is distended as if she were trying to point to the killer him or herself.
“Hey,” I whisper to Max and he rises, floating his way over. We head to the back door of the conservatory that leads to the woods, and I pull him in just shy of the bushes.
Spring is in full effect. The air is warm, and the birds are happily chirping as if tragedy had never touched Honey Hollow this afternoon.
“Did someone kill Nessa?” I whisper. “Or was this a true allergy issue?”
He glances to the woods. “Both.” Maximillian Finmore looks like your typical frat brat with a handsome enough face to get him into trouble and a decent body on him as if he might have played sports. “But I don’t think I’d be here if it were some run-of-the-mill accident.”
“Me either. Look, we’re going to need to have a sit-down and you’ll tell me everything you know about Nessa. I live just a few blocks from here on Country Cottage Road. I’m the house in the middle of the street on the side that butts up against the woods. I have a large wraparound porch—the only one on the block that has it. Feel free to pop in anytime you like. I have a feeling you’ll be a vital key to this investigation.”
“Cool. Hey—you wouldn’t happen to have any beers, would you? I’ve been dying for a cold one, pun intended.” He grins, rather proud of his deadly sense of humor.
“No. But I have two Himalayan cats that might sense your presence, so try not to spook them. Their names are Pancake and Waffles, and they’re sweet as can be. I’d hate to come home and find them running along the ceiling because you decided to move some furniture around. They’re very intuitive.”
“Don’t you worry. I like cats.”
The coroner’s van pulls up, and a heavy sigh expels from me. “I guess Nessa didn’t have pets. It looks as if she liked you best.”
Max belts out a hearty laugh. “That’s ironic because she always did call me her little pet.”
“Should I ask why?”
“Lottie?” Noah calls from behind, and I cringe as I turn around. His dimples press in as he expresses his concern for me. Noah has caught me chatting with thin air on enough occasions to realize that it has something to do with this dark secret I’m keeping from him.
He extends his hand, and I take it as he leads me back inside.
“Why don’t you work the room, see what you can find out?” he whispers as we make our way past the conservatory and into the bed and breakfast itself.
Everett comes upon us, and his chest widens as he strides over to me. I know that look on his face. He’s telling me something.
“What did you find out?” I bounce on my toes in anticipation. I can’t help it. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better.
“There are a lot of broken up people out there.” He nods toward the grand room. “The funny thing is, her core group of friends? Not one of them has yet to shed a tear.”
Noah rocks back on his heels as he glances in the direction of the murmuring crowd. “They might be in shock.”
“Maybe”—Everett takes a breath—“or perhaps none of them really care that she’s gone.”
“Maybe one of them did it,” I add.
Noah lifts a brow. “Heck, maybe they were all in on it.”
Chapter 4
The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is brimming this afternoon. It’s cozy in here with its butter yellow walls and its mix and match pastel chairs and tables. There’s a walkway blown through the wall so that the bakery is adjoined to the Honey Pot Diner. Both of which were once Nell Sawyer’s babies, but now that’s she’s gone, that’s up in the air.
In the center of the Honey Pot dining room there sits a large resin oak tree whose branches spread over the ceiling and creep into the café portion of the bakery. Each branch is strewn with twinkle lights, giving both establishments a magical appeal. I just pulled a tray of cinnamon rolls out of the oven, and the entire place holds a heavenly scent.
After yesterday’s deadly fiasco, I was a little worried it might have affected business at the bakery. But since both my mother’s B&B and the bakery itself were cleared from any mischievous inklings regarding cross-contamination, business is brisk as usual. In fact, a little too brisk.
Naomi Turner is about to conduct her monthly naughty book club meeting right here in the café. Even though Keelie and Naomi are twins, Naomi has chosen to dye her blonde locks jet-black, and, of course, she can pull it off effortlessly. Naomi can pull off a burlap sack effortlessly, and half the women in Honey Hollow would
attempt to do the same the very next week. That’s how much fashion clout the girl has.
Naomi and Lily have already started going over notes as the table fills with the other members of this unofficial smut club. I spot Britney, Noah’s soon-to-be, or perhaps more accurately, never-to-be ex-wife. She’s a blonde Jessica Rabbit come to life, complete with the sultry lock of hair perennially covering one eye. She owns the Swift Cycle down the street and has taken quite the liking to Honey Hollow. She actually owns a chain of Swift Cycle gyms. And, as far as I know, she’s currently putting one in Hollyhock, the neighboring town to the east.
Keelie, Meg, and Lainey traipse their way over.
I nearly gasp when I spot my older sister. “Lainey, don’t you have to be at work?” Lainey is the head librarian over at the Honey Hollow Library, a venue we’re all far too familiar with since just last month there was a murder there—almost two, but thankfully the second victim survived.
“I have an hour before I need to be back. I was going to hang out here for a bit, then Forest is meeting me for a quick bite at Mangia.” Forest is Lainey’s one true love, and they’re engaged to be married this July. Mom, Meg, and I are throwing her a bridal shower next month at the B&B—sadly, it was going to be held right in the conservatory. “And before you say a word, I realize we have a lot of planning to do. Forest and I have already worked out the big details. Not to mention the fact that Jana March, my wedding planner, has been a dream to work with. We’ve booked the church, secured the reception hall—the Evergreen Manor’s grand ballroom, and we have the menu selected. We just need to work on the desserts, and I’m mostly leaving that to you.”
“You can’t do that. This is your wedding.”
Meg grunts, “She’s the bride. She can do whatever she likes.”
Keelie tips her head to the side. “Speaking of women about to embark on a great adventure. Have you done the deed with Everett yet?”
My mouth opens and closes like a marionette’s because I’ve never lied to any of the women before me—and, yet, I’m not quite sure I want to pony up the truth.
“Carlotta Kenzie Lemon!” Keelie barks it out like a reprimand as the girls already seated in a long row near the window turn our way.
Lainey gives me the death grip as she pulls me in close by the sleeve. “Are you crazy?”
Meg huffs, “More like sane. Now spill it, Lemon.” She gives a hearty wink because she just so happens to know that’s what Everett prefers to call me.
“Okay, fine. It happened.”
“It happened?” Meg shakes her head. “You weren’t in a car wreck. You had some serious mattress mania with the hottie from the courthouse. What was he like? Did he boss you around? I’m guessing a man like Everett likes to be large and in charge.”
Before I can properly assess the barrage of questions, Naomi and Lily descend on us like locusts.
“Is it true?” Naomi screws up her face as if it couldn’t be. Lily, and perhaps Naomi, too, just so happened to have taken a bite out of the ornery judge before I ever got to him.
“Of course, it’s true,” Lily spits it out with venom. “Everett doesn’t miss an opportunity to shake and bake, and Lottie here happily brought the chicken.”
My mouth falls open just trying to dissect how many shades of wrong that entire analogy was. And does it even make sense?
“I didn’t bring a thing with me. Okay, so I brought my robe, but I dropped that as soon as I walked through the door.”
The five of them gasp in unison.
“And then what?” Lainey leans in with her hazel eyes agog.
“And then”—I wave their imaginations along with my hand—“there might have been some bedroom shenanigans.”
Lily bucks with a laugh. “More like acrobatics. That man has a knack for turning women into pretzels. In fact, my neck hasn’t been the same ever since.”
“You’re not kidding,” I quip. “If I ever plan to delve into Baxter waters again, I’ll need to limber up for a week.”
Meg nods knowingly. “I’ll forward you a few simple exercises you can incorporate into your morning routine. I’ll have you ready to bend for Baxter in less than forty-eight hours.”
“Details,” Keelie demands. “Was he better than Noah?”
The thought of comparing the two has me cringing. “Let’s just say they were equally as good and equally different.”
“Different how?” Keelie persists.
“I don’t know. Noah was more conventional, and Everett is more look at me, look me in the eye.” I bite down hard on my lower lip as the entire lot of them begin to fan themselves with their fingers.
Naomi groans as if she were the one looking Everett in the eye while in the throes of ecstasy. “You do realize the club pick this month was in Judge Baxter’s honor. It’s called Illegally Mine, a story about a sexy judge who does more in his chambers than meets the legal eye.”
Lainey waves her off. “Lottie doesn’t have to read it. She’s living it.”
Keelie groans hard. “You’re so lucky, Lot! I can only wish to live half the life you’re living.”
Max Finmore begins to materialize between Keelie and Meg, and I gasp at the sight. No matter how many times I’m visited by the other side, I will never get used to seeing a body appear or disappear.
Naomi leads them all away, and soon enough the entire club is swooning over fictional Judge Ridgeway.
Everett really did know how to bring the heat. Noah did, too, but, honest to God, they are very different animals—sexy beasts to be exact.
While Lily works hard to make sure there’s enough coffee and cookies to satiate the carnal crowd, I take Max in the back with me.
“What did you glean?”
Max swipes a fresh baked oatmeal cookie off a tray and does his best to munch away on it but to no avail. It used to be that I couldn’t hear the dead, nor could they move things in the material world, but since about January both have been happening at a steady clip. They still can’t eat, though. Hey? Maybe that’s next? Stranger things have happened.
Max tosses the cookie back onto the island. “I learned that no matter how hungry I might be, I can’t seem to help myself in that department. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not really hungry.” He takes a step toward the book club and peers out at the girls. “Cormack and Landon just came in. I think they’re your best bet to narrow down who might have done this. I haven’t been around that crowd in years.”
“But you knew Nessa—in the biblical sense, I’m guessing.”
A hearty laugh belts from him. “That I did.” He gives a wistful shake of the head. “Nessa had a drive for heated passion like no other. She might have been hell on heels when dealing with the world, but one-on-one she was”—he chuckles again as if reliving a lewd memory—“hell on heels in the bedroom, too.”
“Lovely. Back to who would want to see her dead.”
“Landon.” He shakes his head as if in disbelief. “They argued at the party. I saw them. It was right after you spoke with them.”
“What did they argue about?” This is the very best part about having the ghost that’s overseeing the investigation of the deceased be an actual human. He can relay all of the juicy dirt he uncovers. Although, last month there was a macaw parrot and he was invaluable in that department, too.
“Nessa said something—something along the lines of I know what you did.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a motive for murder, in a roundabout way. Maybe she knew something really dark and twisted about Landon, thus driving Landon to…” I throw my hands in the air. “Landon never left the conservatory. How would she get her hands on peanut butter?” I gasp as I quickly reach for the phone and text my mother not to touch the peanut butter in the B&B. We’ll need to send it off to forensics.
Max peers over my shoulder. “You might want to do the same with the peanut butter here.”
“Gah!” I run to the pantry and observe the oversized jars of rich nutty goodness. They’r
e all still sealed shut with a plastic liner adhered over the top unbroken. “It’s not from here. I bake such large batches I tend to use an entire jar. Whoever did this either knew where my mother had the peanut butter or they brought their own.” My eyes widen as I look to Max.
“Do you realize what this means?” he whispers as if someone might actually hear him—other than me, of course.
“Yes. Whoever killed Nessa came prepared to do it. They not only wanted her dead, but they wanted it to look like an accident.”
Max nods. “One that you were to look ultimately responsible for.” He shrugs. “Nothing personal, I’m sure.”
“Ooh, that boils my blood. Not only did they intend to evict Nessa right off the planet, but they had no problem turning my business into yet another casualty.”
“Lottie?” an all too familiar female voice calls from the front, and I head on over.
It’s my mother standing there with her best friend, Chrissy Nash—Mayor Nash’s ex-wife. Both Chrissy and my mother share the same lemon-blonde hair, beauty queen looks, and same devilish gleam in their eyes. They are definitely two peas in a pod. Standing just to their left is Carlotta, my namesake bio mom. Carlotta’s request to whoever found me as an infant—per the note she left—was that they gift me her moniker. And even though my mother respected her wishes, she quickly nicknamed me Lottie.
Chrissy reaches across the counter and gives my hand a quick squeeze. “I heard all about what happened. Don’t you worry one bit. We know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Mom nods. “And I got your email about the peanut butter.” Mom still calls text messages emails no matter how many times my sisters and I try to explain the difference. “I’ve alerted the staff that no one is to go into the kitchen until I get back.”
Chrissy nods. “She’s got Rich there holding down the fort.” Chrissy shoots a knowing look to my mother, and the two of them seem to be having a rather intense conversation with their eyes.
“What’s going on?”
Lethal Lemon Bars: MURDER IN THE MIX 9 Page 4
