Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 8

by Addison Moore

  Believe me, I’m half-tempted to shove just about anything into my ears to dampen this drivel. Not that Everett isn’t hot while expressing his lines. But the fact Jackie seems to be falling all over him, and reading each word with such lusty believability—and the fact this is the very scene that sets up the infamous page thirty-three, well, it gives me a snapshot into the past I wasn’t looking for.

  Noah leans my way. “See this, Lot? These are his signature moves playing out in real time. The guy’s a Johnny one-note.”

  Carlotta leans in. “Yeah, but I bet he can play the hell out of that one note.”

  The scene wraps up, and Everett makes his way back to my side.

  “Don’t worry, Lemon,” he whispers it hot into my ear and my insides tickle. “I plan on writing a whole new book with you. Chapter one has just begun.”

  A smile swims over my lips, and I can’t help but glow at the thought of penning an entire lifetime with Everett. Initially, when Everett and I got married, we knew we needed to keep the matrimonial gig up for twelve months straight to meet the requirements of his trust fund, but a part of me wants to maintain the marriage far beyond its expiration date.

  It’s my mother’s turn at bat and she enlists Wiley to read a spicy snippet, and just as they’re getting to the nitty-gritty, Bingo belts out a series of oinks and snorts, mercifully drowning out any sexual shenanigans that might have otherwise haunted me.

  The room breaks out into polite applause and Greer zooms forward, taking a seat right on Everett’s lap.

  Everett glances my way. “Did you just feel a cold breeze? It feels as if an ice block just sat in my lap.”

  I nod as I pick up his hand so he can hear her if he has to.

  “It’s a glamorous block of ice who we like to call Greer.” I look up at her. “What’s got your ghostly knickers in a twist?”

  “Please, Lottie. As if you had to ask. This is one hot reading. And as soon as we’re done here, I’m going to hunt down Winslow. He appreciates how worked up I can get after one of your mother’s book club meetings.” She spins around and gives Everett’s tie a little tug. “And Everett, I’ve read In the Judge’s Chamber. Had I known it was about you, I would have tracked you down and had my way with you before it was too late.”

  It’s true, Greer wanted a turn at bat with the good judge but died before those lusty fantasies ever saw the light of day.

  Everett sheds a short-lived smile. “Hope you enjoyed the book, Greer. And I hope you get some mileage out of it with Winslow.” His lids hood as he looks my way. “I’m saving all my page thirty-threes for you, Lemon.”

  I can’t help but swoon and reward him with a quick kiss.

  Jessie begins in on the Q&A and almost every question is for Jackie. My poor mother is just sitting there like a bump on a literary log.

  True to her word, Bizzy pipes up and asks two rather benign questions.

  Carlotta asks one, and my sisters reveal themselves from somewhere deep in the crowd and each asks her a few basic questions as well, evening up the score.

  Jessie gives the floor to a random woman from the back.

  “Hey Jackie, everyone knows Ambrosia ripped off your stories. Now that she’s dead, your devoted readers want to know. Did she swipe more than just that book? Everyone here knows Ambrosia Whispers took someone’s entire catalog and made it her own. My money is on you. Are the rumors true? Did she blackmail you into giving her your unpublished work?”

  Noah leans my way. “I was regretting this while watching my dad itemize the things he was about to do to your mother, but I’m back to being glad I came.”

  Jackie looks to Jessie, and I’d swear on all that is holy they just shared a knowing glance.

  Bizzy looks my way, and I give a curt nod.

  Jackie clears her throat. “No. Whatever catalog Ambrosia snagged, it wasn’t mine. And yes, it’s true that she stole one of my ideas, but it would be over my dead body if she took one of my stories that I penned from start to finish. No disrespect to the dead, but she wouldn’t get away with stabbing me in the back like that.”

  A round of oohs circles the room, and Jackie coyly holds her hand to her lips.

  “Did I say that?” She bats her extra-long lashes.

  A series of boos goes off thunderously loud, and I startle until I realize where it’s coming from.

  I lean toward Everett whose hand I’m still holding. “That’s just Bingo, Ambrosia’s old emotional support piglet.” I give a little wink.

  A woman a few rows back spikes to her feet. “I happen to still be a big fan of Ambrosia’s, and I don’t like all of you ladies ganging up on her when she’s clearly not here to defend herself. Ambrosia was asked about a ghostwriter and she vehemently denied it. That’s the end of it. If any of you want to battle it out, I’ll gladly meet up with you outside.”

  Wiley stands to his feet, and from this distance he looks as if he could be Noah himself.

  “We won’t have any of that, ladies. If you want to keep the authors rolling into town, you’ll need to keep your tempers in check. Now why don’t we all settle down? I’ve got a bar set up to the right and we’ll be serving the house drink—on the house, called the reckless feartini!”

  The room breaks out into a series of whoops as a line begins to form at the impromptu bar.

  I look to Everett. “Why would my mother agree to a bar when she had the entire B&B shut down a few months back because she didn’t have a liquor license? Ugh. You don’t think she got a liquor license, do you?”

  “She doesn’t need one,” he says, frowning in the direction of Wiley as he takes on the role of the bartender. “It sounds as if they’re not selling it.”

  “Noah?” I turn his way. “Why would your father agree to give away perfectly good liquor?”

  Noah’s dimples invert, no smile. “Because he’s trying to get them liquored up. I’m guessing it’s a ploy to sell more copies of your mother’s books. The drink is named after it.” He shrugs as he nods to the line forming in front of my mother. “And it seems to be working.”

  “Some publisher he’s turned out to be. The only bona fide method he’s come up with to move my mama’s books is to sauce the readers. Why can’t she see through him?” I head on up to see if she needs any help, but I bump into Jessie Lane instead. “Sorry,” I say to the svelte blonde wearing a breezy pink sundress. “I was about to see if my mother needed an assistant.”

  “Oh, she’s got one.” Jessie points over to the table, and I hike up on my tiptoes to find Evie sitting beside her, passing her books to sign after opening them up to a blank page in the front.

  “Looks as if my own daughter beat me to it.” I shrug. “How about you, Jessie? Got any angsty teenagers at home?”

  “Not me. I’ve got my hands full with my sister.”

  “I take it she’s younger than you.”

  “Just a few years, but it can feel like decades some days.”

  Bizzy steps over. “Another great event, Jessie,” she says. “Let’s hope it doesn’t cost anyone their life. Things got pretty heated.”

  Jessie swallows hard. “I can’t believe this hasn’t blown over yet. I thought for sure now that poor Ambrosia is no longer with us, her fans, and those of Jackie’s, would call a truce.”

  I tip my head her way. “They seem certain Ambrosia lifted someone else’s work. What’s your take on it?”

  Jessie leans her thin frame my way as she gives a quick glance around.

  “I don’t know. I asked her myself once and she said she’d deny it until the day she died.”

  Bizzy nods. “I guess she did.”

  Jessie gives a little wink. “She did. I guess in that way, she had the last say. Excuse me, ladies. I’ll see you both here in a few days for the final Summer Sizzler signing. It’ll be nice to get the gang together one last time.” She takes off for the signing table and sits down next to Jackie, passing her books to sign two at a time.

  Bizzy steps in front of me. “S
he was thinking about what a liar Ambrosia was while she told you Ambrosia denied the allegations.”

  “Why can’t I read minds? It would make my job a heck of a lot easier. You do realize you have a killer edge.”

  “And you’re punny.” Bizzy glances to the author table a moment before drawing closer to me. “While those hecklers were asking Jackie if Ambrosia took her catalog, Jessie was reliving a conversation she had with the woman. She asked Ambrosia where she got those dozens of novels she suddenly spit out into the world.”

  “Well? How did Ambrosia respond—you know, in Jessie’s mind? Who did she steal them from?”

  “She said she didn’t have to steal them. That they were given to her by a family member of the author.” Bizzy takes a breath. “Lottie, she said the author was dead.”

  Chapter 14

  Dead.

  Now there’s a word that haunts me.

  After I finished up at the bakery and my feet felt as if they wanted to fall off, all I wanted to do was jump into Everett’s hot tub. But I didn’t forget that Bizzy and I had the idea to check out Ambrosia Whispers’ laptop. And I happen to know that the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department confiscated some of her personal things, and one of them was that slender ball—or should I say laptop—of potentially criminal knowledge. I wasted no time in hunting down Noah at the signing and asking for a glimpse of the ghostwriter gold, but he gave me a big fat no. He left me no choice but to turn up the volume on my womanly wiles.

  So, when Everett asked if I was up for a hot date, I said yes—but that it had to take place at Noah’s house. Everett wasn’t all that thrilled, but he said he wouldn’t miss whatever I had planned.

  Noah’s house is basically a wooden cabin that looks as if it were made of Lincoln Logs. Toby is the first to greet us as we walk through the door, with Noah standing a few feet away pulling a couple of cold drinks from the refrigerator.

  Noah glances to Everett before nodding at me. “Looks as if you’ve got a barnacle attached to your side, Lot. You should dump him before he goes into full stalker mode.”

  Everett’s chest thumps. “Weren’t you the one that put a tracking device on her car?”

  “Only to keep her safe.” Noah blinks a smile my way. He glances down at the sparkler on my ring finger and his smile slowly disappears. “I picked up a Mangias pizza. It’s on the coffee table.” He glowers at Everett. “Lottie and I like to eat pizza while snuggling on the couch. Maybe you can sit on the ottoman and entertain Toby?”

  Everett gives a dark laugh. “Is that what you’ve been doing with your free time? You’ll have to show me how it’s done.”

  “Okay, okay.” I hold my arms out in the event they decide to let their fists do the talking again. “Where’s the laptop, Noah?”

  Everett steps in. “Shouldn’t we wait for Bizzy? She seems to be keeping pace with you as far as the investigation goes.”

  Noah shakes his head. “I told Lot, no one else can know about this. And I don’t want Jasper looking down on me.” He glances my way. “I can see you have a hard time following orders.”

  “Everett isn’t anyone.”

  Noah chuckles. “Hear that? You’ve just been voided as a person.”

  “No,” I protest as I swat Noah. “I meant, he isn’t just anyone.”

  Now it’s Everett who’s chuckling. “Lemon, he accused you of not following his orders. I’d stay away from anyone trying to control your will.”

  Noah balks, “As if you’re not barking out orders at her in the bedroom.”

  Everett postures for war. “I don’t know what kind of canine antics you were up to behind closed doors, but I prefer to keep her purring.”

  Noah growls, and it’s apparent a war of cat-astrophic proportions is about to ensue.

  I spot a large plastic bag marked evidence sitting on the kitchen counter, and I head on over without hesitation.

  “You’ll need gloves.” Noah quickly provides me with a pair of purple latex gloves and helps me pull the laptop out. We head to the sofa and I get right to work, perusing Ambrosia’s files.

  “Just the usual fare as far as documents go,” Noah points out as he slings an arm around my shoulders and snuggles in close.

  I’ll admit, it feels natural like this. It even feels natural having Everett seated clear across the way on the other sofa because this exact same scenario has played out among the three of us before. And yes, Everett is very much entertaining Toby with a rollicking game of fetch.

  Noah takes a breath. “I’ve done an in-depth analysis.”

  “I don’t trust your analysis, Noah. And if you’re smart, you won’t either,” Everett says. “What do you see, Lemon?”

  “I see a document labeled final copies and one marked works in progress.” I click into the works in progress first and note there are two folders in there. One for each of her new series. I click into the final copies folder and there are two folders in that one as well. “Huh, look at this. Under the folder marked final copies there are two more folders. One isn’t marked. And the other has the initials K.D.”

  “I knew that,” Noah says as he glowers over at Everett. “I’m not sure what K.D. stands for, but I’ve combed through all the files inside that folder and there’s not a hint of what it could mean.”

  “I’ll tell you right now, I believe the initials K.D. belong to whoever wrote these books.” I open each file and scan over them, and true to Noah’s word, there’s no evidence of whatever or whoever K.D. could be inside them. Something strange catches my eye. “Noah, there’s a copyright page on the front.”

  “I saw that.” He points to the top of the screen. “It says to be filed.”

  “Yes, but look at the date at the bottom of the page. It says 1992 in parentheses.”

  “They all say that more or less. Every year is in the early nineties.”

  I glance up at him. “How old was Ambrosia? She couldn’t have been but a pre-teen in the least at this time. There’s no way she wrote these books.”

  Noah’s chest expands with his next breath. “She was born in eighty-five, so you’re right. She would have been less than ten when you consider the dates across the board on all of them.”

  “Noah, this is proof she didn’t pen these novels.”

  “I know. It very well could be, but we can’t be sure.”

  “I can be sure. In fact, I’m positive that whoever K.D. was, she was writing these stories.”

  “Was?” Everett catches the past tense reference.

  I nod. “At the signing, when there was talk of Ambrosia lifting anyone’s work, Bizzy pried into Jessie’s mind, and basically Jessie was saying that Ambrosia didn’t have to steal them. That a family member of the author gave them to her. She also said the author of these works is dead.”

  Noah stares off straight ahead as if absorbing this new information.

  “Jessie must know who K.D. was,” he says.

  “Maybe.” I shrug. “Or maybe that’s all she knew. She did say that Ambrosia took the secrets to the grave with her. I guess that means she took K.D.’s real identity, too.”

  Everett locks eyes with me. “Do you think Ambrosia’s killing is linked to K.D.?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But I have a feeling it is.”

  The three of us finish up our pizza, and Everett and I say goodnight to Noah.

  Everett pulls me in close as we hit my front porch.

  “You up for a sleepover with your husband?”

  “My place or yours?”

  “Lady’s choice.”

  “I vote we hit the hot tub and see where it goes from there.”

  His lips twitch with a smile he’s too stubborn to give.

  “I have plans on what happens from there,” he whispers. “You wouldn’t happen to have any whipped cream lying around, would you?”

  “You do realize you’re talking to a baker.”

  And just like that, we have a steamy, delicious night whipped with unbridled excitement.r />
  Chapter 15

  The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is bustling after an early morning rush that nearly emptied all the shelves. But I don’t seem to mind one bit, for as exhausted as I am, I can’t help giggling and smiling. It feels as if I’m walking on air. A few times I actually worried that I had garnered the power to levitate.

  Lily tosses a dishrag over her shoulder as she leans against the counter.

  “Lottie, no matter how much we ramp up production of those flag cakes and their cute cupcake counterparts, we just can’t seem to keep them on the shelves.”

  “They are topped with fresh fruit.” Bizzy sheds a grin as she closes her laptop momentarily. I waste no time in filling her in on everything I learned last night at Noah’s. And right now, Bizzy is doing all the research she can before we head out for the day. Everett is taking us all out on his boat this afternoon, and both Bizzy and I are looking forward to a day of sun and relaxation.

  Bizzy digs into her third flag cake cupcake.

  “They’re practically healthy for you,” she moans through a bite. “There’s no arguing with the fact.”

  Bizzy has been here all morning doing research on Ambrosia Whispers, and I’ve been keeping her coffee mug filled to the brim and making sure her supply of flag cake cupcakes doesn’t run out.

  Lily sighs. “I’ll tell the kitchen staff to double the batches.”

  “I beat you to it,” I say. “In fact, I’m tripling them.” A long-drawn-out yawn evicts from me and causes Lily to narrow her eyes my way.

  “That’s the fourth time I’ve seen you yawn this morning. What gives?”

  Bizzy laughs. “I think the fact she’s getting up at four in the morning gives her a pass in that department.”

  “No.” Lily inspects me with suspicion. “Something is definitely up. I’ve worked with Lottie for a good long while now and she hardly gives a long blink, let alone a yawn. If anyone is wired for the bakery business, it’s her. What giv—” She sucks in a quick breath. “This is all Essex’s fault, isn’t it?”

  I try to wave off the idea, but that burning heat taking over my cheeks gives me away and now Bizzy is gasping, too.