Toxic Apple Turnovers: MURDER IN THE MIX 13

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Toxic Apple Turnovers: MURDER IN THE MIX 13 Page 2

by Moore, Addison


  It’s true. In the last year alone, I’ve found twelve murder victims. And thanks to the help of those that come back from the other side, I’ve helped track down the killers, too.

  I’m not clairvoyant, and I’m not a medium—I’m not any of those things. I’m transmundane, further classified as supersensual, which means I can essentially see the dead. When the dead first started appearing to me—it’s almost always an adorable furry creature that has long since crossed that rainbow bridge—they would come back for someone they had a strong adoration for before they passed—usually their old owner—and almost always their earthly reprisal was a harbinger for that very person.

  It used to mean nothing more than a scraped knee or a sprained ankle at best, but as of late it has consistently meant death. Only Noah and Everett are aware of my deep, dark secret—with the exception of my birth mother, Carlotta, who also shares the gift, or curse as it were.

  “I don’t remember getting an invitation,” I say, sliding a platter of turnovers to my sisters and one to Amanda, too.

  “I got one.” Everett’s brows pinch in the middle. “And you?” He looks to Noah.

  Everett and Noah used to be stepbrothers back in high school when Noah’s father married and proficiently financially ripped off Everett’s mother. But they’ve since divorced and Everett’s wealthy mother has recovered nicely. Noah and Everett? No so much.

  Noah gives a guilty look my way. “I did. But for the record, I’d much rather go out with you, Lottie. Are we still on for Mangias and a movie?”

  Mangias is our favorite Italian restaurant, and we happen to be addicted to their pizza. I know for a fact we’re about to pick up a pizza on the way back to his place tonight, where coincidentally the movie will take place as well.

  “Yeah, sure.” I shrug up at Everett. “I don’t see why not, seeing that I’m not invited to this event. I’m sorry, Everett. I hate leaving you here.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he’s quick to answer. “And I’ll be home soon, so whenever your pizza party wraps up, head over to my place and I’ll show you what a real good time looks like between two consenting adults.”

  Noah shakes his head. “As opposed to the adolescent good time I’ll be showing her?”

  Everett ticks his head to the side. “You said it, not me.”

  I hand them each a platter, and my mother and I grab the last two. Each mini apple turnover sits nestled in a pristine white pastry cup, and they look as elegant and formal as the occasion requires.

  “Let’s get these goodies next door,” I say.

  I’m the first one out into the generous foyer of the B&B, and just as I’m about to head to the conservatory, I spot Amanda in what appears to be a heated conversation with a blonde and a short brunette on stilts.

  Everett leans in. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, nudging him with my shoulder. “Let’s get these put away.”

  In truth, I was expecting to see the ghost of Greer Giles, or Winslow, or Lea—or any of the other ghosts that have visited me in the last twelve months.

  A very odd occurrence happened at the end of last month. Every single poltergeist that’s haunted me in the last year showed up on my front porch. And Nell, my grandmother who was one of them, warned me that something very sinister was coming to Honey Hollow. And then, just like that, they all up and disappeared. It was unnerving to say the least. I’ve been on edge ever since. I’ve made an effort to grill Greer about it, but each time I spoke about it she up and disappeared.

  My mother leads the way to the conservatory, and Everett is right on her heels. I’m about to mobilize myself when a white-feathered bird dives right in front of me, and I nearly drop my turnovers onto the floor.

  “Whoa.” Noah helps stabilize my tray with his. “You almost lost them there.”

  The bird zips by again, short and adorably plump, and it’s not until it lands square on Noah’s head do I see it’s a magical looking snow owl.

  “Oh my goodness.” I take a step back with a laugh caught in my throat. “It must have gotten in through the side entry. My mother had that thing open for hours as they hauled in all of those massive decorations. Whoever is getting engaged today has spent some serious cash on this event.” It’s true. Crystal chandeliers in a smoky gray have been installed, white couches were brought in, and the entire conservatory is dripping with crystal and laden with blush pink roses. It’s a feast for the senses, with the shimmer and heavenly shine, and now my mini turnovers will provide the piece de résistance. I came by earlier and witnessed the entire spectacle taking shape.

  “What got in?” Noah ticks his head to the side. “I’d better put this down. It feels like I’ve got a brick sitting on my head.” He ticks his head again, but the bird remains steady.

  “More like an owl—a gorgeous snow owl with white and gray plumage and a dusting of gold around its bright yellow eyes. I bet he’s a part of this circus next door and he got away from his handler. Let’s get to the conservatory and get him where he belongs.”

  The beautiful beast tips his head back and lets out a bark-like howl. “I don’t belong to the circus. I belong to one who will soon be dead.” He flies off toward the ceiling, and a breath gets caught in my throat.

  “Who?” I shout out after him, and he echoes the word until he disappears.

  “Lottie?” Noah’s dimples press in, no smile. “You saw another one, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did.” My heart thumps clear into my chest.

  “Someone is going to die,” Noah says, looking to the conservatory with an apprehensive stare.

  “Yes, Noah, there’s going to be a murder in Honey Hollow tonight. And someone is going to die.”

  Chapter 2

  Noah and I speed into the conservatory, and no sooner do we put down our platters than the lights flicker on and off.

  The entire room is bejeweled in the aforementioned crystal. It’s cut shimmering glass everywhere you look, and the wall-to-wall guests all look equally as opulent.

  I feel a little silly in my sweater and jeans with my cozy UGG boots adorning my feet in comparison to all the sexy heels prattling about. But in my defense, it’s September in Honey Hollow, and our little corner of Vermont is notorious for turning into a virtual autumn wonderland overnight. The temperatures are already dipping into the low fifties during the day and the low forties at night. The sugar maples, oaks, liquid ambers, and sweetgum trees have already turned stunning shades of orange, gold, and bright crimson.

  I spot Mayor Nash, my recently revealed biological father, having cocktails with Carlotta Sawyer, my recently revealed biological mother. Carlotta is supersensual like me, and at the moment that adorable fuzzy little owl just rematerialized on Mayor Nash’s shoulder and it looks as if Carlotta is openly having a conversation with it.

  Carlotta looks exactly like me if you added sixteen years and a couple of gray hairs. I see some resemblance of myself in Mayor Nash, too, but nothing to write home about.

  Amanda Wellington saunters back into the room, dabbing her pinkies into her eyes as if she were drying up tears, and I watch as the other girls she was with melt into the crowd as well. Amanda makes her way to Cormack, and I can’t help but frown.

  Cormack Featherby is the ex-girlfriend of both Noah and Everett. She dated them both back in high school. Technically, she dated Everett first, then Noah swept her off her cheating feet and she left one stepbrother for the other, creating a rift in their relationship that has never quite recovered.

  Cormack is an impossibly thin blonde with celadon green eyes and a wardrobe purchased straight off the runaways of Milan. She comes from money, a trust fund baby at her finest, which might explain why I haven’t seen her work a day in her life. Unless, of course, you count her constant badgering to get Noah back as an amusing form of employment. In that case, she has a full-time job with no pay and no benefits. Noah isn’t interested in getting back together with Cormack, not now, not ever.

  She e
xtends her left hand for inspection, and Amanda chortles as she looks down at the massive hunk of pressed carbon. And she should laugh at the delusion taking place before her. Cormack believes she’s engaged to Noah. She’s not. Last summer, she stumbled upon a ring in Noah’s closet that he bought for me and, of course, she thought it was for her. I don’t see why not. The entire planet revolves around her.

  “There’s your fiancée.” I nudge Noah in the ribs. “She didn’t happen to have an owl as a pet, did she?” Here’s hoping.

  Okay, so I don’t wish a homicide on anyone, but let’s call a spade a spade—I’m not a member of the Cormack Featherby Fan Club either.

  “Of course, she’s here.” Noah sighs. Cormack has been a proficient stalker of his for the better part of the year. Noah leans in. “Hey, isn’t that Landon?” He nods to her left and, sure as sunshine, there’s another Featherby making an unwanted appearance— Cormack’s baby sister. Noah sucks in a quick breath. “Those are Cormack’s parents behind her. And that’s her brother talking to Everett.”

  “Huh,” I muse as I take in the entire primped and polished Featherby clan. Honestly, they look like a walking ad campaign for Ralph Lauren. “They must be friends with the couple that’s getting engaged. It’s a small world, and it only seems to be getting smaller by the minute.” And snobbier, but I leave that commentary out for now.

  Cormack and Amanda begin frantically nodding to one another before Cormack slinks her way over in her pristine white lace dress, tight-fitted and short, but adorably stunning nonetheless.

  “Pardon me, Lee-Lee,” she says while taking Noah by the hand and sauntering away with him.

  For reasons unbeknownst to me, neither Cormack nor Britney, Noah’s official ex-wife, can get my name straight. I don’t even bother correcting them anymore.

  Speaking of Britney, I spot her wrapped in a little black dress in the corner with my newfound half-brother, Finn Nash. Britney is basically a blonde Jessica Rabbit, all va-va-voom, no thanks to her daily workout at the Swift Cycle gym she owns down the street from my bakery. She actually owns an entire chain of them and is quite the successful businesswoman. After she divorced Noah, she and my brother made their relationship official, which is a bit awkward. But, considering I didn’t really grow up knowing that Finn was my brother, I don’t mind all that much.

  The lights go out once again—save for that ethereal owl glowing as if he has an entire solar system of stars trapped in his plumage. It used to be that I could only see the dead, but as my powers grew so did their abilities, and now they can not only move things in the material world, but as of late they can speak to me as well. It’s a refreshing change of pace compared to the silent era of haunted days gone by.

  The lights snap back on, and a giant felt sign at the front of the venue unfurls to reveal the words Congratulations, Noah and Cormack in large glittering letters.

  “Surprise!” Cormack and her friends and family shout at the top of their lungs.

  Amanda Wellington appears next to me. “Isn’t this wonderful, Lottie? It’s a surprise engagement party!”

  My mouth falls open as I lock eyes with Noah—my sanity and my heart break at the lunacy exploding around us. Clearly, our date is off, too.

  “It’s something,” I say as I shake my head. Soon enough, both Noah and Cormack are surrounded by well-wishers, and I suddenly want to be anywhere but here.

  I turn to go, and Amanda catches me by the sleeve. “You have to meet my sister, Lottie. She’s my new assistant, and I’ve told her all about your wonderful shop. The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is officially the only bakery we’ll refer our customers to.”

  Amanda flags down a petite redhead that’s essentially her doppelgänger. “Hazel, meet Lottie. Lottie, this is my little sister, Hazel. She just finished up with grad school, and now she’s come to work for me.”

  “Nice to meet you, Hazel.” I shake her hand and can’t help but note the adorable freckles dotting her nose and cheeks.

  “I’m not working for my sister,” she’s quick to correct. “I guarantee in less than a year she’ll be working for me. I graduated summa cum laude twice over, and I happen to hold the scholastic reins in the family. She might be able to lord over me the fact she’s older than me by two years—and far more successful, but I plan on lording my degree over her head for a good long while.” She gives a little wink, and Amanda laughs it up as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Truthfully, it might be, but Cormack just plucked both my funny bone and my heart out by way of her stiletto.

  Everett rushes up to me, along with Meg and her boyfriend Hook.

  Everett wraps a strong arm around my waist. “Let’s get out of here, Lemon.”

  Meg grunts, her ice blue eyes set to kill. “And miss the fun? I say we start a good old-fashioned food fight. It’s good to see you brought enough ammo, Lot.” She glances to my poor innocent turnovers and I shudder.

  “No way. I’m above that.” Albeit just slightly.

  The sound of an argument brewing behind me ignites, and I turn to find it’s Amanda with that blonde bombshell and the brunette on stilts going at it once again. I’m about to look away when that gorgeous little owl lands smack on the brunette’s head and I gasp.

  I give Everett’s arm a tug. “It’s happening.”

  Meg snaps up a handful of my sweet miniature treats. “Darn tootin’ it’s happening.”

  “No, not that.” I step in close to Hook. “Do not let my sister toss a single turnover into the crowd,” I say as I yank Everett over a few steps. “I see a ghost! An adorable baby owl sitting right there on that brunette’s head.” I nod that way.

  “All right.” Everett gets that serious look in his eyes, the one he usually reserves for the courtroom. He walks us over to the bickering girls and is quick to hold up a hand. “I apologize for interrupting your conversation.”

  The tiny brunette, who is pretty to a fault but looks as if she’s been injected, filled and stuffed with silicone from the chest up, brazenly gives Everett’s silver tie a quick tug.

  “You can interrupt me anytime, big boy. I’ve been watching you. I predict we’ll be going home together in just under an hour. I’ve got plans for those blue eyes and strong hands.”

  The blonde bombshell groans, “Ignore her, Essex. How have you been?”

  Every muscle in my body freezes when she spouts off his proper moniker. That’s a dead giveaway that she’s done the dirty deed with my boyfriend.

  Speaking of boyfriends, I lean back to scowl at Noah who is still swimming in well-wishers. One of them is Detective Ivy Fairbanks, a leggy redhead who works alongside him down at the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department. I’ve always suspected she’s wanted more from their friendship, but as it stands she’ll have to stand in line. First, behind Cormack, and then behind me.

  Noah cranes his neck past her as if looking for someone, probably me. It looks as if our date has gone sideways once again. But that seems to be par for the course for the two of us.

  “I’m Lottie Lemon.” I look to the blonde who could pass as a body double for Marilyn Monroe. “I’m Everett’s girlfriend.”

  “Fiancée.” Everett bows into the lie. I’m not sure why he keeps perpetuating this myth. Honestly, he told his mother and sister he was engaged to some mystery woman before he ever met me, and I just so happened to fill that mystery woman’s shoes. And then a few months back, his mother shoved a rock the size of Gibraltar onto my ring finger, her own mother’s wedding ring, and I’ve been wearing it loyally ever since. I’m not really sure what else I’m supposed to do with it. Everett won’t take it back, and I’m paranoid I’ll lose it or it’ll get stolen if I take it off for a moment. The only time I do take it off is when I’m at the bakery, and then I put it in the ground safe in my office along with the deposits ready for the bank.

  “Fiancée?” Marilyn’s look-alike’s eyes bug out. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Janelle Hastings. I used to work down at the courthouse. I ca
n’t believe what I’m hearing.” She turns to her brunette friend. “Connie, I would have thought he was a shoo-in to end up in your bed tonight. It looks like you missed out on the Baxter Express.”

  “We’ll see about that.” She winks. “Connie Canelli.” She holds her hand out toward Everett, and he pauses a moment before shaking it. “Ha! I take it you’ve heard of my brothers.”

  Brothers? As in the Canelli brothers? Now it’s me going rigid. Everyone has heard of the notorious Canelli brothers. They’re essentially the mob that runs Leeds. I shudder just thinking of that seedy town south of us, and then I shudder harder at the thought of that illegal gambling ring they run—among other unsavory illegal dealings they have their shady hands in.

  The owl lets out something between a hoot and a purr before disappearing into a sparkle of dust.

  A lot of help he is. That is, if he’s a he. I’ll grill him on his name and gender the next time we’re alone, and I have a feeling we’ll be alone often. I’m just about to ask which of these lovely ladies once had an affinity for the pretty poltergeist when Cormack trots up in that lacy white number that should have given away her silly shenanigans.

  “It’s time, Amanda.” She gives a cheeky wink as she picks up both my hand and Everett’s and dances us to the middle of the cavernous room.

  The lights blink on and off again, and this time another felt sign unfurls next to the first eyesore, and this one reads Congratulations, Lolli and Essex.

  “Oh my God.” All I can muster are those three words as the room breaks out into a riot of cheers around us.

  Everett glances my way, his eyes wide with surprise. I have seen Everett in just about every situation, and not once has he been caught off guard the way he is now.

  “Don’t look at me that way. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I’m not looking at you that way,” he says and I follow his gaze behind me to find his mother, Eliza, and sister, Meghan, dashing over with their arms held wide.

  “Congratulations!” Eliza shouts into my ear and blows out an eardrum. She’s essentially another version of Everett, beautiful and cultured and all those good things. Meghan is a bit grittier, but she still bears the signature Baxter black hair and blue eyes, and intoxicating combo if ever there was one.

 

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