Murder in the Mix Books 4-6 (Murder in the Mix Boxed Set Book 2)

by Addison Moore

  “Yes, well, I seem to like some people a whole lot better once they’re dead. Besides, historically speaking, the guilty party usually bothers to show up to see their work completed, if you know what I mean.”

  She sucks in a breath. “God, I hope not. Can you imagine? A murderer in our midst. And at Christmas!”

  “Go get your pizza. Let me worry about murderers and Christmas.” Two words I never thought I’d say in a sentence.

  Lainey takes off just as Everett walks in with his dark inky suit, that perma scowl on his face.

  “Lemon.”

  “Essex?” I catch him off guard a moment. “Oh, wait, I haven’t graduated to proper names. Lily has.” Now it’s me scowling at him.

  His chin ticks up a notch. “I may have had a visitor last night.”

  “Did you know that visitor lifted your cufflinks? She thinks they’re the new class ring.” I resist the urge to swat him.

  Everett frowns at the thought and holds up his bare sleeve. “They were my only pair, and you’re right. They were lifted indeed.”

  Dutch comes over and touches his paw to my hip.

  “Hey, you,” I whisper, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears. “It looks as if we both had a visitor last night who was missing a few brain cells.” I lean toward the ruby-eyed pooch. “When it comes to you, I’m only being literal. You’re smart as a whip and so very handsome—yes, you are.”

  “Lottie?” a male voice booms next to me, and I look up to find Noah Corbin Fox looking both vexingly sexy and shockingly confused. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Oh!” I glance to Everett, who looks as if he’s resisting the urge to laugh. “Essex—um, Everett—I mean, Judge Baxter.” I straighten with the lie. “He was telling me that he had a lady caller spend the night, and I was simply doing an impersonation of how I thought things went.” I give a little shrug, uncertain myself if I’m buying the bull I’ve just heaped all over the Cutie Pie.

  “Ah.” Noah looks to his former stepbrother. “What are you doing here?” His voice drops an octave, and any trace of humanity dissipates as he glowers his way.

  “I volunteered to help Lottie bring cookies to the firehouse.”

  “The firehouse.” Noah nods my way, amused. “Why do I get the feeling you’re impeding in yet another one of my investigations?” Noah is not crazy about the fact I’ve injected myself into his investigations before. And, apparently, Everett has no problem outing me.

  “Nope. Not me.” I do a poor job of crossing my heart, and instead look as if I were trying to distract him by way of the girls. “It’s just a thing I do at Christmas. Everett asked if he could tag along and see the exact spot Joseph Lemon discovered me all those years ago.” It’s true. My adoptive father found me at the firehouse and brought me home to Mama, and the rest is Lemon family history.

  “I see.” Noah inches back, inspecting me. “Well, it just so happens that I was headed there next myself. Mind if I tag along?”

  “Not at all. Let me grab the cookies.”

  I’ll distract Noah with more than just my cookies, and that should give Everett enough time to inspect Forest’s Mustang.

  Ready or not, Noah Corbin Fox. I’m coming for your investigation.

  Chapter 6

  Honey Hollow shines in a special way during each of the four seasons, but Christmastime in our cozy little town is truly a wonder. A fresh blanket of snow smooths the landscape like a fresh layer of heavenly icing. The scent of the evergreens fills the air, and there’s a bit of Christmas magic everywhere you look.

  I hitch a ride to the firehouse with Noah, and we meet up with Everett in the parking lot. An entire line of cars sits parked alongside the firehouse, and the lot extends toward the back of the building where I’m guessing Forest’s Mustang happens to be since there’s not a silver car in sight. The skies are dark, and another storm is threatening to dust our world with powder later tonight.

  Dutch barks up a riot as we get out of the car. That’s right. Dutch. This fiercely loyal Golden Retriever is living up to his calling, long after the living is through.

  I can’t say I mind too much. Growing up, we never had big dogs, and I always wanted one just like this with long, luscious locks. He’s so stately and handsome, I’m starting to feel as if I’ve got a big protector around me at all times.

  Although, I still don’t have a clue why he’s with me. Does it mean something? Does he simply like the way I smell? Does he have a mad hankering for a batch of fresh baked doggie treats? Honestly, the possibilities are endless, and I have zero ideas on how to solve this puzzle.

  “Whatcha got there?” Noah asks as I carefully peel the foil off the platter.

  “Just a few chocolate chip blondies, eggnog truffles, cinnamon shortbread, stained glass windows, peppermint pinwheels, chocolate crinkle cookies, and my signature gingerbread boys and girls.” I hand him a gingerbread girl, and he gives a naughty moan as he bites into her.

  Noah’s lids are hooded low, and that goofy grin on his face lets me know he’s just as interested in the baker as he is the cookie.

  “What’s going on?” Everett gives his lapel a quick tug, so I give him a gingerbread girl as well. “Why thank you, Lemon. This is exactly how I take my women, spontaneously and as the moment arises.” A dirty chuckle strums from his throat as he gives Noah the stink eye.

  “What’s that look for?” Noah squints as if he was reading him. “I know that look. That was a dig at me, wasn’t it?” His head tips to the side, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his brain. “Wait a minute.” Noah inches back. His eyes cut to mine, laced with suspicion. “Lottie,” he says rife with disappointment. “You didn’t tell Everett, did you?”

  “She told me,” Everett the rat mumbles through a bite. “I’m pretty sure she told Keelie.” He nudges my arm with his elbow. “Did you show him the nightie?”

  “Would you shush!”

  “What nightie?” Noah’s eyes have reduced to slits, his shoulders are squared over his chest, and he looks rough and tough and every bit delicious.

  “There’s no nightie.” I shake my head just so at the ornery judge who apparently left his muzzle back at the courthouse.

  “There’s a nightie.” Everett’s lips curve with the hint of a malevolent smile. “It was red and see-through and had this frilly white fluff. I believe it was designed to curl Mr. Claus’ toes.” He looks to Noah. “And that, my red-faced friend, would be you.”

  A nervous giggle escapes me. Noah is rather red-faced, but it has less to do with embarrassment and more to do with rage. But, nonetheless, the nightie was left at the community center, and I have no intention on going back to the scene of the crime to excavate it.

  A woman’s high-pitched cackle emits from behind, and we see none other than Ivy Fairbanks strutting out of the firehouse along with Scooter McPhee, the chief. Scooter actually worked with my father. He’s quite a bit younger than my father was, his pepper black hair has yet to see any salt, and he’s built like a building, ready and willing to risk his life in any situation as are all of the men and women who work here.

  “Lottie!” Chief McPhee lifts a friendly hand. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you. Let me see if I can track it down. I’ll be right back.” He takes off as Ivy strides over in her far too cute black leather boots that come up high over her knees.

  She’s wearing a winter white wool coat that hangs open in the front paired with black jeans and a simple black sweater, and I can’t but think she really did step out of a magazine. I don’t ever look that put together. On my best day you won’t find a dusting of flour on my face or clothes, but that’s few and far between.

  It would figure she’s here.

  “What are we laughing at?” She lifts her nose to Everett as if she understood he was her only hope of ratting us out. And, well, he most likely is.

  “Lemon and Noah are contemplating knocking boots.”

  My mouth falls open, but before I ca
n reprimand him, Ivy pipes up.

  “Ah yes. The canceled coitus.” She folds her arms across her chest while inspecting us with a smug look of satisfaction. I’d ask Dutch to sic her, but the only thing he’s capable of doing is licking her to death. And, believe you me, if death was truly involved, I’d give him the go-ahead.

  I swat Noah and risk dropping all my cookies in the snow. “You told her?”

  “You told him.” He nods to Everett.

  “And I deeply regret it,” I growl at the judge and mean it.

  Everett snatches another gingerbread girl off the platter—it would so figure. “Don’t forget the best friend and the nightie. Trust me, buddy, you need to see the nightie.”

  Ivy sniffs the air between us. “Detective Fox, I’ve got a new lead. I’ll see you at the office.” Her permission-colored lips expand in my direction, and not in any kind way. “Sorry if this impedes on your carnal calendar, but he’ll be mine for the rest of the evening.” She looks to him. “I’ll pick up a pizza from Mangia on my way back to the station.”

  I suck in a lungful of frozen Honey Hollow air as she takes off in her government-issued ride. “Carnal calendar? And pizza from Mangia? That’s our thing.” It comes out a little louder than I meant for it to. Oh heck, I meant for it.

  Noah cringes. “She asked what my favorite pizza place was the other night. Sorry.” He practically mouths the word. “How about we get those cookies inside?”

  The three of us head in, with one of us a heck of a lot less cheery than I was five minutes ago. Soon, an entire herd of men dressed in yellow swarm us, and by the time I put the platter down onto the table, it’s empty.

  Forest smiles that warm smile I miss so very much. He’s so shockingly handsome, it almost makes me want to sock my sister the next time I see her. How could she have wasted all those precious months with a bonehead like Tanner when a perfectly good heartthrob like Forest was let off the leash? Although, now that he’s gone, I feel terrible for referring to him as a bonehead.

  “Lottie, you outdid yourself. Those were delicious.”

  “Well, thank you. Next time I know to bring three times the amount.”

  We share a warm laugh before Forest and Chief McPhee give us a quick tour of the garage. The firehouse was gifted a brand new truck recently, and he spends some time showing off all of its technological bells and whistles.

  He looks to me, and a general sadness sweeps over him. That’s usually a cue people are about to bring up my father. Joseph Lemon was such a sweet and gentle man that to this very day he’s still sincerely missed by many.

  “Sorry. It took a second for me to dig it out. I left it back in the dining hall.”

  “No problem. We’ll come with you.” I glare over at Everett, and he lifts a brow.

  “Right.” Everett nods my way. “I’ve got a quick call to make. I’ll be out front.”

  Perfect. This should be plenty of time to distract Noah while Everett looks for a dented Mustang—or hopefully, a lack thereof.

  Forest pulls Noah and me to the side as the chief heads over to the desk in the corner.

  “Lottie, what the hell happened last night? Did you get the killer?”

  Noah’s chest expands the size of the door. “The investigation is well underway, and we are combing through hundreds of viable leads.”

  “Hundreds?” Quite frankly, I’m wondering if he added one too many zeros to his estimate.

  “Yes, hundreds.” Noah warms my back with his hand. “I promise you, this investigation will wrap up quickly.”

  Truthfully, I’m caught off guard that Noah seems so confident. I bet Ivy was here, because she already knew about the potential dent in Forest’s car. But a small part of me finds it difficult to believe. Not that I don’t think Noah is capable. I’m positive Noah is far more than capable. In fact, I bet he has capable hands, too. And if it wasn’t for Ivy and that pizza from Mangia she was trying to lure him away with, I’d have those capable hands on me in just a few hours.

  “Well, I didn’t do it.” Forest sets his feet in a defiant stance as he tries to clear his name. “I know what it looked like. I yelled at the guy. I threatened him.”

  “You took off in his wake,” I remind him.

  “Gee, thanks, Lot.”

  “Not to worry,” Noah says to Forest. “The investigation still has her pinned as the number one suspect.” He ticks his head my way, and I gasp.

  “Forest?” I look up at him in a desperate attempt to clear my name. “What did you see when you ran out that back corridor? Did you see anyone at all? Suspicious vehicles?”

  “Not a thing. In fact, I marveled that the guy disappeared into thin air.” He steps in close. “One of my buddies here filled me in on some pretty unsavory things about good old Redwood.” He glowers when he says his name. His disdain for the guy is still pretty palpable. “That guy had a revolving door of women. How could Lainey have wanted him anywhere near her? She’s sweet and kind, and not in any way like the girls Tanner is used to.”

  Noah’s shoulders bounce. “Maybe he liked the change of pace?”

  “Well, I’m sorry he’s dead, but I’m glad it’s over.” Forest blinks over at me. “Hook is in town. He’ll be here for the funeral. I never did understand how the same family could produce such vastly different offspring. Their sister Rachel seems to have her head screwed on straight, and Hook is the real deal—but Tanner, apart from work, he couldn’t get his fill of women.”

  The chief comes back, and Forest takes off with a nod.

  “This was your father’s.” He holds out a thick silver ring with an impression of the company’s emblem. “It slipped behind his desk. Found it when we were doing some renovating.”

  “Oh my God! It’s so precious.” I touch it to my chest and close my eyes. I can see him there in my mind’s eye. His gentle blue eyes, the way his entire face lit up when any of us Lemon women stepped into the room. My father was a true gentleman, a man’s man, a sweet soul who deserved to live far longer than fate determined. “Thank you so much.” I blink back tears from my eyes. “It’s as if he’s delivering one last Christmas gift to my mother. I’ll be sure to wrap it up for her. This is truly special.”

  We say goodbye to the chief and meet with Everett just as we’re about to leave.

  “How did the phone call go?” My heart thumps wildly with fear. Forest all but shouted that he didn’t do it, and now I’m wondering if he did protest too much.

  “Not a scratch on the fender. Everything worked out fine.”

  Noah leers at him. “What kind of a euphemism is that?”

  “One only the elite understand.” His chest bucks with a silent laugh. “It’s something I made up spontaneously. I realize that’s another three-dollar word for you, but it might behoove you to look that one up.” He shoots him with his finger. “The nightie will be worth it, believe me.”

  Noah growls at his old stepbrother just as Everett hops into his fancy ride and takes off.

  We head out, and Noah wraps his arms around me before I can climb into his truck. “You and Everett wouldn’t have happened to be looking for something on say—somebody’s fender, were you?”

  My mouth opens and I’m about to tell him everything, especially now that Forest is in the clear, but then I remember that he and Ivy have already amassed hundreds of clues. I’d hate to give them something else to keep them with pizza at three in the morning.

  “Nope. Not a thing.”

  “Good.” His dimples dig in deep, his lids grow heavy and thick, a dangerous combination that makes all of my girl parts beg to combust. “Now about that nightie…”

  “You won’t get a clue from me. You’ll simply have to make time to see me in it.” I cringe a little because it just so happens it was left in the melee at the community center. But I’m sure Keelie will be more than glad to help me hunt down a replacement.

  “Is there any way to bribe you into bringing along some cookies?” That playful tone of his makes me ins
ane to pull him into the nearest snow bank and have my way with him.

  “Just cookies? I’ll bring some frosting along to make things interesting.”

  “Oh, sweetie”—his voice dips low—“I will certainly frost your cookies.”

  My stomach bisects with heat, and I give a soft moan.

  “In that case, one of us had better find Tanner Redwood’s killer, and soon. I believe you promised me three days of heaven.”

  “It’s a damn good start, and we will certainly be touching paradise.”

  Noah’s dirty grin doesn’t even have time to crest before he lands those lips to mine and gives me a taste of eternally blissful things to come.

  As terrible as it sounds, even in death, Tanner Redwood has found a way to infuriate me.

  Well-played, Tanner. Well-played.

  Chapter 7

  T he Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery has never seen so much foot traffic, and if this keeps up, we might just need new flooring by the new year. They’re beginning to wear a path to the register—never a bad thing. Honestly, Keelie has lent me five more staff members from the Honey Pot. Ironically, the Honey Pot’s foot traffic has decreased slightly. It turns out, with all the office parties, school parties, ugly sweater parties, tree trimming parties, and parties just to have parties, people are far more eager to pick up a box of cookies and a Yule log beforehand rather than stopping in for a nice hot meal.

  By the time the bakery closes, I’m well past exhausted. But despite my aching dogs, the ones attached to my feet, my newfound dog, Dutch, and I pile into the van and head out to the Jolly Holly Tree Lot where Everett is waiting for me.

  It looks as if my newfound angel of a pet with the glowing eyes is sticking around for the long haul, or at least until he figures out how to eat those cookies he drools after all day long. Pancake hasn’t exactly made peace with him yet, although in Pancake’s defense, I’m not sure he knows what it is. All he seems to realize is that there’s a disturbance in the force, and it’s trying to eat his dinner.