Flag Cake Felonies (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 23)

by Addison Moore

  “I’m feeling moody, Lottie,” she belts it out. “Is this the killer?”

  I shrug her way. I may not know, but I’m determined to find out.

  The sun scorches the top of my head as it bears down over us. The wall of evergreen trees to the left has surrendered their oils and perfumed the air with the earthy scent of pine.

  Jessie holds out a key fob and a blue sedan chirps to life.

  “I can’t thank you girls enough. If you’re both willing to take a box of books, that will save me a few trips in this heat.”

  “No problem,” I say, taking the empty box from her and tossing them next to the dumpsters. “What do you think of the turnout today?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen so many eager people waiting to get their hands on a book. But it doesn’t surprise me. Romance is a hot genre. There’s a reason they call it the bread and butter of the bookstore. People just love it. Mostly women. But we get a few good men, too.” She gives a little wink.

  Bingo struggles to keep up, and before you know it, she’s gliding alongside me.

  “For Pete’s sake”—the tiny pink poltergeist snorts—“ask the woman if she killed my sweet Valerie. I may be without a body, but I’m not a fan of this heat either.”

  I bite down over my lip as I look to Bizzy and she nods as if she agreed even though she can’t hear a thing Bingo just said.

  “Jessie?” Bizzy leans in and catches her eye. “I was just talking to Henry and he said something I can’t get out of my mind.”

  Jessie grunts, “What half-truths is he spewing now? I wondered if inviting him would be an error. I guess I’m about to find out.”

  Bizzy and I exchange a quick glance.

  “Actually”—Bizzy takes a breath—“he mentioned that you and Ambrosia had a pretty big falling-out recently.”

  Jessie gazes out at the woods a moment as if she were considering her options.

  “We did have a falling-out.” She shrugs. “I mean, who didn’t? She wasn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with. She had a history of that sort of thing. But it’s all water under the bridge. It was nothing anyway, and she’s gone, so it’s over. I choose to focus on how much I appreciated her, and how much I appreciated the things she did for me.”

  A mean shiver rides through me. “Jessie, can I ask if you ever gave her a book to publish for you?”

  Jessie’s face bleeds out of all color, and then just like that, she blinks back to life and opens the driver’s side of Tallulah’s car, releasing the trunk.

  “Nope.” She sheds a tight smile. “But I heard the rumors. Crazy, right? That must have been painful for her to keep being accused of publishing books that weren’t hers. I guess we’ll never know the truth. Last I checked, the dead don’t speak.”

  Bingo belts out a raucous oink. “Sure, we speak. You just don’t have the privilege of hearing us.”

  I suppress the urge to smile over at her. Something tells me this is the wrong time to grin like a loon.

  “Jessie?” I step forward just in time for her to hand me a small box of books, I’m presuming, but it’s so heavy it might as well be lined with lead. I rest them on the bumper a moment. “Can I ask you a question that might be hard for you to hear?”

  “Anything”—she says, handing Bizzy an even bigger box of books and Bizzy’s knees dip from the heft—“shoot, Lottie.”

  “Is your real name Jessica Delaney?”

  Jessie gives an audible gasp. Her body jerks and she drops the box she just picked up, spilling a load of books over the parking lot.

  “Where did you hear that? Is that what Henry is saying?” Her cheeks burn bright like a couple of Christmas ornaments. “It’s something I’ve heard before.” Sweat beads along her temples. “Ambrosia—it was another one of her dirty accusations. I didn’t get her the top spot in one of my bigger signings, and she thought I had it out for her. She started making up all sorts of wicked things about me. Jessica Delaney? I don’t even know who that poor girl is.” She yanks another box of books out of the trunk with marked aggression. “Let’s get these inside. I’ll clean this mess up later.”

  Jessie takes a step toward the B&B and Bizzy steps in front of her.

  “Your name is Jessica Delaney,” Bizzy asserts. “We saw a picture of your family. It was you, Jessie. You don’t have to hide it from us. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Jessie’s chest bucks as she hikes the box of books over one hip.

  “Okay, fine. That’s my name. And you’re right. I’m not exactly proud of it. I’m assuming you know the rest.”

  I nod. “Your sister burned down your home. Your father and mother were both killed.”

  She sucks in a quivering breath and covers her mouth with her arm for a moment.

  “It was an accident.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “It wasn’t. The article said that your sister was being abused. She meant to kill your father. She said she wanted to protect you, too. She’s at the Burlington Women’s Correctional Facility. You mentioned to me that you had a sister in Burlington. That’s where you’ve been going to visit her, haven’t you?” Her lips part as if to respond, but I don’t wait for it. “I asked you once if you put pen to paper, but you said your mother was the creative one. Her name was Katherine Delaney. The manuscripts the sheriff’s department found on Ambrosia’s laptop had a folder marked K.D. And those manuscripts were the exact same books that people had accused Ambrosia of stealing. They knew it wasn’t her voice. They came out of nowhere. You yourself said that Ambrosia didn’t have to steal those books. You said the author was dead.”

  Bizzy winces my way and shakes her head.

  Oh shoot! Jessie didn’t say it; she was thinking it.

  Bizzy shrugs over at Jessie. “The books came from you. The two of you had an arrangement. And I’m betting when Ambrosia stopped paying you for them, you lost your temper.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s like you’re reading my mind or something.” She gives a panicked look around. “You mentioned that the sheriff’s department knows? This is terrible.”

  “The fire was terrible,” I say. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  Bizzy’s eyes grow wide as if she just heard a whopper of a thought fly through Jessie’s mind.

  “Your sister didn’t act alone.” Bizzy gazes deeply at her as if she were about to crawl into the woman’s mind. “The fire—it was set by both of you.”

  Jessie’s eyes narrow in on Bizzy’s.

  “Yes, my sister and I both did it. So what?” Her chest palpitates dramatically as if she had just run a marathon around all of Vermont. “She took the blame. We both agreed it would be the right thing to do. She was still a minor. She begged me not to confess. She took the fall and went to juvie. She only has six more months to serve. They won’t keep her past twenty-five. We can get our lives back on track again. But Val, she didn’t live up to her end of the bargain. She took my mother’s books, and things started out great at first. She gave me a cool ten grand for the entire catalog. But she made millions. The books were her bestsellers. I threatened to expose her, but she just laughed at me. She turned the tables on me and said that I would be the one, exposed—as a killer.” Jessie looks my way. “She was going to make sure I lost my job.”

  “You argued at Honey Lake that day.” I take a bold step toward her.

  Bingo lumbers forward as well. “For goodness’ sake, get her to confess already. I’ve got my eye on those fresh baked brownie platters inside.”

  Bizzy entraps Jessie from the other side. “You killed Ambrosia Whispers that night, didn’t you?”

  “I had to!” Jessie’s voice hikes to the sky. “She was about to ruin everything. She was greedy. She wanted me to go away. That woman owed my sister and me millions, and she wasn’t going to give it. My mother wrote those books with all her heart and soul. She was a brilliant writer. But my father—he wouldn’t allow her to publish them, let alone continue to write them. He liked keepin
g a lid on her. He certainly didn’t have time for a successful woman in his life. If she so much as mentioned her stories, he would hit her. He was a horrible, horrible man. The things he did. He deserved to die. Not her, though. Not my precious mother. But when the fire started to engulf the house, she just had to run back to try to save him. She didn’t know we had set it intentionally and that he was right where he was supposed to be—passed out on hard liquor. The roof collapsed and that was it. She was gone, too.”

  Bingo bows her head in grief.

  “Lottie, she needs help.” Bingo nudges her head my way. “This woman is a killer. Do something.”

  “Jessie”—I land the box in my hands back in the trunk—“I think you’d better talk to the sheriff’s department. I’m sure if you explain—”

  “I’m not explaining anything.” Her eyes grow wild. “Get out of my way. I have to go.” She tosses the books in her arms toward Bizzy and ducks past me as she jumps into the driver’s seat.

  “Bizzy, get Noah,” I shout as I dive into the passenger side without wasting a moment to shut the door.

  The car takes off with a start.

  “Get out, Lottie!” Jessie gives me a hard shove as the car veers to the right, and with one loud bang, Bizzy flies over the hood of the car before rolling right off on my side.

  “Oh my God, Bizzy!” I scream.

  “Now look what you made me do.” Jessie turns the car in the other direction.

  I dive over the steering wheel and the car begins to veer toward the woods.

  “Lottie, stop or you’ll get us both killed!”

  I lay my hand over the horn as Jessie guns it and I turn the wheel with all my might as she crashes into one car then the next while struggling to leave the lot.

  Outside, I spot Bingo in the distance. The brave little swine charges right at us, and instead of charging her way right through the car—as her ghostly given right allows—the car comes to a crashing halt as if we just struck a brick wall.

  My body rolls toward the windshield before landing hard over Jessie. But my attention is momentarily derailed from the suspect at hand as I watch Bingo floating through the sky like a piglet-shaped Mylar balloon, sparkling and bright, with a giant grin on her face.

  “I’m headed back to paradise, Lottie!” Her voice trills right into my ear as if she were next to me. “Do give my regards to Bizzy. My, how I’ll miss your sweet treats! Oh, look! There’s my Val now! She’s got a lot of explaining to do, but, of course, I forgive her. Until we meet again.”

  Jessie slams my head into the dashboard as she jumps out of the driver’s side, and I spot Noah outside the car with his gun drawn.

  “Freeze!” he roars and Jessie staggers as she tosses up her hands.

  “It’s over,” I whisper and lift my head, only to see the world passing me by as the car continues to roll down the lot. The car lurches to another sudden stop, and I glance out the window to see Everett standing at the hood of the car, holding it back from moving another inch.

  “Lemon,” he shouts with his eyes rife with worry for me.

  I throw the car into park and run out the passenger’s side to find my way into Everett Baxter’s arms.

  “Lemon.” He dots a kiss to my forehead. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. But Bizzy, she was hit.” I take him by the hand and head back to the front of the lot where I see Jasper kneeling over my good friend.

  Bizzy lies motionless with her limbs sprawled over the ground.

  Oh dear God, no.

  Chapter 18

  A mild concussion.

  Bizzy hit her head on the concrete and was knocked out cold. Other than that, thankfully, she checked out fine.

  An ambulance took her to Honey Hollow General Hospital, and they let her go that night.

  It’s Saturday afternoon, the day of Lainey and Keelie’s double baby shower at the Evergreen Inn where Keelie’s twin sister Naomi is the manager. The ballroom is adorned with pink and blue balloons and the tables are covered in peach-colored linen.

  I’ve furnished the dessert bar with every cookie, brownie, blondie bar, cake pop, and cupcake known to man. And I’ve also brought along over a dozen peach cobblers. But I couldn’t resist baking a cake—two three-layered cakes tiered over one another. The bottom level is enrobed in smooth baby blue fondant with white fondant clouds adhered over it. The top tier is also a three-layered cake covered in light pink fondant with white clouds adhered all around it as well. They look perfectly dreamy if I do say so myself.

  The Honey Pot Diner catered the event with petit fours and croissant sandwiches. My mother has Wiley working the bar, serving mimosas and mamamosas, a virgin version for the mamas-to-be. There’s blue punch and pink punch in glass dispensaries and the pink punch has been the clear winner between the two.

  Bizzy claims she’s right as rain and has no problem helping move the event along. We play three games: guess the belly size, change a dirty diaper blindfolded, and taste the baby food blindfolded. That last game was stomach turning to watch and gag-worthy to play. Poor babies. No wonder they’re always so unhappy. They’ve got lousy food to eat, right out the gate.

  Finally, after mountains of gifts have been opened, the crowd begins to dwindle.

  I step between Lainey and Keelie and pull them both in for an awkward hug.

  They’re both wearing the same A-lined dress but in different pastel prints, lavender for Lainey and mint green for Keelie.

  “You girls were real troopers,” I say.

  Lainey makes a face as she looks out at the mounds of gifts around her.

  “I think I just realized the house we bought is way too small. Who knew one tiny little baby could need so many things?”

  Keelie nods along and her blonde curls rain over her shoulders. “I don’t think my place can hold all that baby stuff either. Bear and I are going to have to get a storage unit just to house everything we got from the shower. But everything is so cute and pretty, I just want to hold it all at once.”

  Lainey laughs. “I’m going straight home and washing all the baby clothes I got today. I want everything ready to roll once our little one comes home. Keelie, are you taking a tour of the delivery room? I’m thinking we should go together.”

  A laugh rumbles through me. “I’m thinking you’re going to be there together for the big day.”

  Keelie groans, “That would be convenient for you, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yup,” I say. “Work on that, would you?”

  Meg and my mother walk up.

  “My big gift is still on the way,” Meg says with her dark hair in a knot at the top of her head. Her black leather bustier has a pink satin ribbon laced through the front, forming a bow at the chest, and she looks quite festive for the occasion.

  “Good work, girls,” she says. “And an even better haul. You should get knocked up more often.”

  The four of us share a laugh and Meg slaps me on the back.

  “You’re up next at bat, Lot. You’re already hitched. Now it’s time for the good judge to land a baby Baxter in your belly.”

  A sly smile takes over my lips.

  Mom gasps. “Lottie! Are you expecting a baby?”

  “What? No! I’m just—”

  Lainey nods my way. “She’s in love. And before you say it, yes, we know you love them both. Noah and Everett are both great catches. But I have to admit, you seem, I don’t know, lighter these last few weeks. And I think Everett is making the difference in you.”

  Meg’s lips part. “You’re going to ditch the detective and hold onto the judge forever, aren’t you, Lot?”

  “And that’s my cue to have another cookie,” I say as Lainey and Keelie decide to join me as they slowly waddle their way to the dessert table.

  Carlotta, Georgie, and Bizzy stand near the cobbler and I make my way over. Georgie and Carlotta are each wearing a blue and pink kaftan respectively. And Bizzy stuns in a peach dress that shows off the tan she soaked in by the lake.
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br />   I pull Bizzy into a warm embrace. “Thank you so much for wrangling everyone for the past few hours. It was like herding cats. How is your head doing?”

  “It’s fine.” She holds up a mimosa. “Wiley was kind enough to keep these coming. They’re ice cold and taste like heaven.”

  Georgie holds up one of her own. “He gave me a double shot of champagne. That man knows the way into a woman’s heart.”

  Carlotta makes a face. “And her pants. How do you think he caught Miranda?”

  I cringe. “How anyone gets into my mother’s pants is the last thing I want to think about. So Bizzy, are you getting baby fever?”

  “Are you kidding? I’d have to move every guest out of the inn just to have somewhere to store all of the baby’s things.”

  Carlotta waves it off. “They come into this world naked and without a single thing to call their own. Sometimes I think we complicate things far too much. I left Lot Lot on the floor of the Honey Hollow Fire Department swaddled in a blanket and she turned out just fine. I wasn’t about to spoil her for anything.”

  Georgie taps her finger to her temple. “Now that’s some forward-thinking.”

  I lift my brows to Bizzy, amused. “Now there’s a birth plan for you in the event you were deficient in one. But I’ve seen what you can do with criminals. I think you can take on an infant.”

  She belts out a laugh. “Thanks, Lottie. I appreciate your vote of confidence. Speaking of criminals, we put one away together. Good work, Detective Lemon.”

  “Right back at you, Detective Baker.” I give a forlorn smile. “Jessica Delaney was formally charged with Ambrosia Whispers’ murder. And, in a hard to stomach irony, her sister will be released next month. One sister goes in and the other comes out.”

  Carlotta shudders. “That’s a cautionary tale right there. If you’ve got kids, you better watch your back.”

  Georgie slings an arm around Carlotta’s shoulder. “Thank goodness we’re done with tiny tots and on to mesmerizing men. Here’s to conquering the world, one good-looking goof at a time.” She holds up her glass and Carlotta and Bizzy do the same. I quickly grab a cookie off a platter and toast right along with them.