Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery

by Addison Moore

  Mayor Nash grunts hard and we look over to see him scooping up Carlotta in his arms.

  “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” he continues to grunt as his face turns three shades of red then quickly purple.

  Carlotta kicks her legs in the air. “Let’s break this bad boy in the old-fashioned way!” She looks my way. “If the bedroom’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”

  “Eww!” Evie groans herself. “That’s freaking gross, Carlotta. He’s, like, old. And so are you.”

  “Have a candy cane and calm down, Evie,” Carlotta snips back. “Besides, I’m betting your two daddies have a feast laid out for us inside. I’ve got to put something solid in my stomach first if I want to build my stamina.”

  Noah opens the door for them, and Mayor Nash staggers forward, slamming Carlotta’s head on the doorframe so hard I could swear I heard a crack. She goes limp and the rest of us gasp.

  “Kidding!” She perks back to life, but her eyes look as if they’re going in two different directions.

  Once they’ve disappeared inside, Evie motions to Everett and Noah.

  “Come on, one of you pick Mom up so we get to the food. I’ve got to build my stamina up, too. I still have to finish decorating my room.” She steps into the house and pulls out her phone. “I’ll take a picture. I want to get Mom’s face when she sees the big reveal.”

  Carlotta yelps from inside. “Come on in, Lot Lot!” She scuttles to the door with both Pancake and Waffles in her arms. “You’re not going to believe your eyes!”

  Mayor Nash appears behind them with a slice of pizza in his hand. “The food’s good, too!”

  Everett steps back, his lips curling at the tips, and his excitement, though somewhat muted, is darn near palpable.

  “You ready to do this, Lemon?”

  “No,” Noah answers for me.

  “What?” Everett snips with clear irritation, in a tone that he doesn’t invoke all that much. Come to think of it—I squint over at his face, and his lower lip looks a little swollen in the corner. Boy, they really did have a knock-down, drag-out fistfight.

  “I’m sorry, Lot.” Noah looks decidedly ticked himself. “But I want to carry you in. You’re only married to Everett as a part of that technicality to get his trust fund to pay out—even though that was all proven to be a scam. Deep down, I know you’re just seeing where this goes with him.” He glares at his former stepbrother. “Everett, you get Lottie in ways that I may never have her again. She’s the last thing you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning. It would mean everything to me if I could carry her over that threshold. Besides, you’ve got a broken arm and she’s with child. God forbid you drop her. You’d never forgive yourself.”

  A low-lying growl emits from the deepest part of Everett.

  “Fine,” he grunts. “But it means nothing. It’s merely a form of transportation.” His lips cinch together. “Are you okay with this, Lemon?”

  “At this point I’d ride on Toby’s back so long as I get to see what’s happening inside.”

  Noah scoops me up into his warm, strong arms and his dimples press in deep as he whisks us through the front door.

  “Oh my goodness!” I suck in a sharp breath. Yes, we are in a new rental house. Yes, the furniture is not the same as it was in my last house, but none of that seems to make a difference. “This is my home.” Tears come to my eyes as Noah sets me down. “Everything is different, and yet everything is the same.”

  The scent of evergreen branches mingling with pizza and the hint of Chinese food permeates my senses, and it makes me want to cry. Christmas carols are strumming through the house, and it all feels so very homey and right.

  “Look at the tree!” Evie dances over to the tall evergreen set nearby the roaring fire.

  And sure enough, it’s the bakery-inspired tree from the auction. Each ornament has something to do with baking—tiny rolling pins, mixing bowls, muffin tins, and miniature measuring cups. There are even ornaments in the shape of tiny cupcakes, donuts, and frosted desserts of every variety hanging from the boughs. The tiny colorful lights make it feel like the exclamation point on this cheery brand new house of ours.

  The fireplace is covered with white bricks, the floors have been refinished an earthy pale gray, and there’s a thick pale rug with a pattern of pastel climbing roses set in the living room. To the right, the dining room has an elongated dark wooden table, and dotted all around it are plush stone-colored velvet chairs. But the pièce de résistance is the gingerbread house sitting on a red velvet runner right over the middle of that beautiful gleaming table. I happen to recognize that gingerbread masterpiece because it happened to come from my very own bakery.

  The living room opens up to the kitchen where I can see the appliances—

  “You’ve upgraded the appliances?” My mouth squares out in horror. “You did not have to do that!”

  Noah shrugs. “We wanted to. The landlord said it was fine. He deducted the expenses from the rent, so it worked out.”

  “Wow,” I say as I sail into the kitchen. It’s a stainless steel wonderland as far as the appliances are concerned, and they’re all top-of-the-line—even nicer than they were next door. The cabinets are painted white, and the counters are a creamy warm shade of marble. The kitchen island is covered with a buffet that consists of six pizza boxes from Mangias and about a thousand takeout containers from the Wicked Wok.

  I’m about to ask how we’re supposed to eat all of this when there’s a knock at the door.

  And one by one my sisters file in with their plus ones, Forest and Hook. And much to my delight, baby Josie makes an appearance, too.

  Lainey hands her off to me as she looks around. “Wow, Lottie, this looks just like your old place.”

  Meg nods. “It’s darn right creepy.”

  Before I can respond, Mom and Wiley enter the room and, I’ll admit, my adrenaline just spiked a little at the prospect of Suze stalking in behind them. But thankfully, that disaster doesn’t manifest itself.

  I give Josie a quick kiss over her feather soft hair. She’s a golden-haired, amber-eyed cutie who I can’t get enough of. I tuck my nose to the top of her head and inhale that baby fresh scent. I can’t get enough of that either.

  “She finally feels like she weighs something,” I say as I smile down at her.

  Lainey huffs, “Are you kidding? Hauling her around all day is like hauling around a sack of potatoes. And she’s just four months old! If she keeps chunking up, she’ll have to learn to walk before her first birthday just to save my back.”

  Josie squeals with laughter as she reaches up and grabs my nose.

  “Oh!” I squeal right back. “I’m in love with you.”

  Mom comes over with her grabby hands. “Come to Glam Glam. Lottie, you shouldn’t be holding her.” She promptly plucks her out of my arms just as Keelie and Bear walk in with a bouquet of red and white flowers and a tiny baby Bear tucked in Keelie’s arms.

  Little Bear has an adorable pout on his lips that just sets my heart on fire. He’s got steely blue eyes and paper white hair and looks every bit as stalky and brooding as his father. And I quickly kiss up his face until he bursts into tears.

  The room explodes with laughter as Bear takes him from Keelie and rocks him back to contentment by showing him the cats.

  “Come on, everyone!” Carlotta waves the crowd toward the kitchen. “The food is getting cold. Time to stuff your pie hole.”

  “What is going on here?” I shake my head at Noah and Everett.

  Everett shrugs. “We thought it’d be nice to have a little housewarming party.”

  Noah nods. “Get some good vibrations in here.”

  “Don’t worry, Noah.” Everett slings his arm around me. “Lemon and I will add a few good vibrations of our own.”

  A dark laugh gets buried in my chest, but I don’t dare give it.

  Noah’s chest expands. “So did you glean anything from my mother?”

  Carlott
a strides into our midst with a slice of pizza on a fancy paper plate with pictures of red and green ornaments on it.

  “You didn’t tell him?” she quips. “Guess what, Foxy? We ran into your mother’s coven and they strung Lot Lot up with a noose.”

  “They didn’t string me up with a noose,” I’m quick to correct. “They had me lie down on a table while they burned sage and chanted around me in a circle.”

  Evie and my sisters migrate this way, each with a plate full of food in hand.

  “Ugh.” Evie moans. “I miss all the good stuff.”

  Lainey shudders. “Burning sage? Clearly they haven’t met you. You’re a walking, talking fire hazard. And all that smoke was probably dangerous for the baby.”

  Meg snorts. “I’m shocked either one of these men hasn’t stuck a fire extinguisher into your purse. And that fireplace?” She shakes her head at Noah and Everett. “The two of you really do like to live dangerously.”

  “That’s my son.” Wiley pats his look-alike eldest child on the back. “Living large and in charge. Noah isn’t afraid of a few flames. In fact, that’s why he ran into that burning house. We Fox men don’t run away from danger.” He nods to Everett. “Neither do the Baxter men. But you have to admit, Everett, Noah came out unscathed. That’s how the Fox men do it.”

  Everett’s lips flicker. “As long as I come out on top with the woman in my life, I’m fine with a few bumps and bruises.”

  “How about a bruised ego?” Carlotta is quick to offer up the dig with a wink. “One of those witches at Suze’s evil meet and greet says that little sugar booger Lot is totin’ is a baby girl that belongs to Foxy.”

  The room quiets down before roaring to life with congratulations.

  Noah plucks me out of Everett’s embrace. “We’re having a girl?” The spark in his evergreen eyes is something I don’t have the guts to stick a pin in.

  “Maybe?” I shrug.

  Mayor Nash belts out a Santa-worthy ho ho ho. “I’m having a granddaughter! I’ll crack the champagne.”

  Carlotta holds up a finger. “Now, now, that’s my private reserve. We don’t want to lose our heads just yet. The head witch went up against a lesser witch who thought Lot Lot was having a baby boy that belonged to the man of the gavel.”

  Everett’s chest puffs with pride. “A son.” His blue eyes penetrate mine, and my heart suddenly swells with emotion at the prospect.

  Keelie looks my way. “If you have a boy, you should plan ahead to name him after his father.”

  “I agree.” Lainey gives a frenetic nod. “That will cut your naming the baby chore list in half.”

  “Oh!” Mom waves my way. “If it is a girl, feel free to call it Miranda. I don’t mind one bit sharing my name with my darling new granddaughter.”

  “Who are we kidding here?” Carlotta’s expression grows stern. “We’ve got two generations of Carlottas going strong. Now that’s a streak we don’t want to break anytime soon. You’ll name her Carlotta. Don’t worry. We’ll give her a cutesy nickname like your mama did for you, just to mix things up.”

  Evie does a little hop. “We can call her Carlie or Charlie, or Charlotte. Heck, we can call her Tilly or Milly, Buffy or Tuffy. None of the girls at my old boarding school used their real name.”

  Lainey nods. “Josie will probably never go by Josephina.”

  My shoulders hike a notch. “All things to consider, I guess.”

  A knock erupts at the door and Evie skips that way.

  Noah leans in. “Please tell me there wasn’t a noose involved.”

  “Or flaming weeds,” Everett demands.

  My goodness, have I mentioned how hot this man is in that flannel and jeans?

  “There was a little of both,” I’m sad to assure them.

  A round of cheery hellos explodes, and we turn to see Lily coming in with her on-again, off-again boyfriend Seven, a beefy bouncer once hired by Noah and Everett to protect me, and the two of them each has an armful of pink boxes from my bakery.

  “We brought dessert!” Lily chimes, and the room lights up with another round of cheers.

  Naomi, Keelie’s twin, walks in right after, brandishing a brown bottle in her hand. “And I brought the whiskey!”

  Carlotta chuckles. “You always were my favorite niece. Let me take that from you.”

  Before I can greet them, there’s another knock at the door and Noah heads over and opens it.

  This time it’s not such a friendly face—not that Naomi has ever been all that friendly to me, but still nothing compares to this torment.

  It’s not one but two terrible socialites, Cormack and Cressida.

  “Ladies?” Noah looks bewildered by their presence. He glances to Everett. “Did you order up a double helping of chaos?”

  Everett takes a measured breath. “Not unless I was having a brain malfunction.”

  “Oh hush, you.” Cressida stomps her way inside with a thick silver leather coat and matching thigh-high boots. “I need to see for myself the humble abode my daughter will be living in.”

  Evie retches—on purpose, I’m assuming. “Are you, like, stalking me, Cressi-duh?” She looks my way. “There’s one name I won’t approve of for my new baby sister.”

  Cressida pretty much dropped Evie off at boarding school and left her to rot. Last September, we celebrated Evie’s sweet sixteen, and it was the very first birthday party she’s ever had. I have a feeling this will be her first Christmas celebration with family, too.

  “Baby sister?” Cressida looks amused. “I’ll send over some infant couture and Louis Vuitton bags. I can’t have Everly’s sister in rags and cheap bags.”

  Everett opens his mouth to protest, and I lift a hand.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I mutter his way.

  I can’t help it. I’ve been having a serious hankering for a few baby gifts, and if Cressida wants to toss a few clothes and purses my way, I’ll be the last to protest.

  Cormack bucks with a laugh as she strips off her coat, showing off a red lacy dress that looks more negligée than it does street-worthy.

  “It seems Cressie and I have interrupted a party. We won’t stay long.” She winks at Noah. “We could head straight to your place afterwards, Big Boss. I hear a vacancy just opened up in your bedroom.”

  “Fat chance,” Carlotta says. “Foxy’s probably already sniffed the sheets to see if there’s a trace of Lot Lot left in there. He’s not dragging another woman into his bed.”

  Cormack snarls my way. “Nevertheless, Cressie and I are here on official business. As new members of the Christmas Angels, we’re dropping off that tacky painting you won.”

  Carlotta’s head jerks up a notch. “My stud muffin on a stick is here?” She trots to the door and squawks, “It is! Quick, I need some strong men to help carry this inside.”

  Before I can protest or pass out from the artistry, that enormous oil painting is hung above the fireplace where it suspiciously had a nail at just the right height waiting for it.

  Every living soul, and one tiny deceased soul, gathers to look up at the dark painting of a man dressed in riding gear, and his dark eyes seem to be set on each one of us individually. In the bottom right-hand corner, the initials E.L.M. are painted in thin white letters. The gold gilt frame, the moody oil painting itself stands out like a supernatural sore thumb in my newly minted home.

  Mom sighs. “I don’t care what anyone says. He’s perfectly dreamy. If you ever want to toss it out, I’ll proudly display it at the B&B. In fact, I think it’s inspired me to write a horse or two into my next steamy book.” She gives Wiley a playful nudge. “I think there’s some fun research to be had in that. I’ve already got the riding crop.”

  Carlotta shakes her head aggressively. “No way, no how. This bad boy is mine all mine.” She staggers forward. “Speak to me, kind sir. Haunt me in my dreams! I want to see you roaming these halls at midnight with that shock of dark hair, those piercing eyes that hold the promise of a punishmen
t or two, that—”

  “And on that note”—Lainey takes Josie back from my mother—“I think we’d better get this one to bed. Take care, Lottie. Stop by the house or the library!” she calls out as she and Forest take off.

  “Wait!” Carlotta calls after them. “I didn’t set my kinky candles up yet! I’ve got new inventory!”

  Soon, Meg and Hook follow them out the door, as do Wily and my mother—citing something about getting right down to research brass tacks. I’m betting there’s a riding crop involved. Lily, Seven, and Naomi, along with Cormack and Cressida, stick around long enough for Carlotta to sell about sixteen candles. And honestly? At twenty-four ninety-nine, I can’t wrap my head around the purchase.

  “Here you go, Foxy.” She hands a gray candle his way. “It’s called Heartbreak Hotel, and it can keep you company tonight.”

  “Carlotta,” I give her the evil eye for going there.

  “All right, fine.” She tosses her hands up. “Sit down and I’ll give you a deep tissue massage to go along with it. You too, Sexy. If my Lot Lot can take the two of you on, then so can I.”

  Noah takes a seat on the couch, as does Everett, so I decide to make my way to Cormack and Cressida before they infiltrate Evie’s gray matter with their socialite speak.

  Evie shrugs my way. “Cressi-duh hates everything.”

  Cormack chortles. “Including me.” She grimaces. “I mean, I hate everything, too. Not that Cressida would ever hate me.” She sucks in a quick breath as she looks to her blonde counterpart. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

  Cressida pinches her fingers together. “Just a smidge to keep things exciting.”

  “Well, I’m about to get really excited,” I say just as I’m about to give them the old heave-ho when a thought occurs to me. “I’m thinking about joining the Christmas Angels myself. Where do I sign up?”

  Cormack flicks a wrist my way. “Oh, Lou Lou, you can’t just join a coveted league like this one.” Her eyes widen a notch as she nods to Cressida. “You’ll have to undergo an initiation of sorts before we can let you in.”

  Cressida chortles like a wild hyena. “That’s right, Luella.”

  Both Cormack and Cressida enjoy getting under my skin by mixing up my name with everything that begins with the letter L—with the exception of my proper moniker, of course.