Sugar cookie slaughter, p.7
Sugar Cookie Slaughter, page 7
part #18 of Murder in the Mix Series
Everett grunts, “I’m hiring private security. Lemon, you’re getting a security guard.”
“Ohh, Lottie!” Princess pants as if the thought were too much. “Tell ’em to make it a big strong man with lots and lots of muscles,” she moans that last word out with glee. “A nice long tail wouldn’t hurt either.”
Taffy scoffs. “Can someone put a rat in her mouth already? She never stops. It’s bordering on offensive.” He slithers over to Everett’s drink and I bat him away.
“I don’t need a security guard,” I say. “A deputy on Main Street is probably fine.”
“See that?” Everett pins Noah with a look. “She knows your deputies won’t be around much. That’s why she’s agreeing to it.”
Noah’s dimples dig in. “You’re right. I’ll go in halves for the private guard.”
I’m about to kick my protests into high gear when a tall man with a wide smile, shiny forehead, and an all-around jovial appeal pops over.
“How’s everything going here?” His mouth widens as he looks to Everett. “Well, if it isn’t Everett Hide-Your-Girlfriends Baxter!” He howls out a laugh while pulling Everett out of his seat and offering him one of those slapping man hugs.
They share a few laughs as they reminisce before the conversation grows dark.
Everett looks to Noah and me. “Chase, this is my wife Lottie and our neighbor Noah something or other.”
Chase offers us each a polite shake before motioning for Everett to take a seat.
Everett scoots in and Chase fills in our booth.
“I’m sorry about Whitney.” Everett shakes his head. “How are you doing, man?”
“Not good.” His expression sobers up quickly. Odd, considering he was as happy as could be less than a few seconds ago. “You know we were set to marry last June.”
“What?” Everett inches back. “I had no idea things were about to take a turn for the matrimonial with the two of you.”
“I wanted it to.” His eyes water as if on cue. “Two o’clock came on our special day and Whitney was a no-show. Just me and about a hundred close friends and family. It turns out, she went out for coffee that morning and ended up boarding a private jet to Palm Beach. I guess I wasn’t the one for her after all.”
“Oh, wow.” My hand clutches over my chest. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
“It wasn’t a picnic getting the news. She finally texted my brother at three. I had to tell the guests it was off myself. Of course, I invited everyone to stay and enjoy the steak and lobster dinner. No use in letting all that food go to waste.” He closes his eyes a moment. “And since I had the band ready to go, there was dancing as well. All wasn’t lost, though. My little brother ended up meeting the love of his life that night and they’re getting married same time next June.” His expression sours. “That is, if Jenny bothers to show up.”
Princess grunts, “Poor thing. He needs a good woman in his life. One that knows how to treat a man.” An elongated purr strums from her.
Taffy groans, “Let me guess. That would be you? For heaven’s sake, Lottie, find this feline a warm body before we all go stark raving mad.”
Princess swats Taffy over the face with her tail. “Warm isn’t a requirement for me these days.”
I take a quick breath as I try to revert my attention back to Chase.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I tell him. “Did you and Whitney ever get the chance to patch things up?”
He stares out at the wall across the way. “No. Whitney came back and threw herself at whoever she pleased—whoever wasn’t me.”
“What about her bakery?” I ask. “Did she throw herself into her work? The Upper Crust seems to be quite a hit out this way.”
His brows jump as if it were news to him. “Whitney never threw herself into her work. Whitney simply doesn’t work. She wouldn’t know pie dough from cake batter. Whitney had never baked anything in her life.” He turns to Everett. “Did you ever see her in the kitchen?”
“Come to think of it”—Everett shakes his head—“no, I didn’t.”
Taffy slithers his way over to Chase and glides right up the front of his shirt, inciting Chase to give himself a scratch.
“I smell hatred,” Taffy hisses it out. “Ask if he killed the girls. If so, I’ll constrict his ribcage right this minute and save everyone a lot of time and effort.”
I shake my head just enough for the slippery serpent to see it.
“Chase?” I start off sweetly. “When was the last time you saw Whitney?”
He shifts his gaze to the front door as if he were eyeing the exit. “Last week. Communication between the two of us was sparse. I thought maybe if I hired her to cater the Valentine’s event we’re having here, maybe we could get that spark back.”
Everett sighs. “And how did that go?”
“Not well.” Chase hardens his lips. “Whitney started flirting with my night manager right in front of me.” He scoffs. “Let’s just say that’s when the blinders finally came off and I realized that she would never change. Ruthie was right. Whitney had zero regard for other people’s feelings. It was all about her, all the time.” He blows out a heavy breath. “But I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, Everett.”
Everett leans in. “I’m sorry, who’s Ruthie?”
“Ruthie Beasley. Whitney’s personal assistant,” Chase offers. “She also happens to be in charge of the bakery. Whitney figured with Ruthie at the helm she could hide the fact she wasn’t responsible for all those pastries.”
A waitress comes by and whispers something in his ear.
“I’d better get going.” He shakes Everett’s hand and does the same with Noah and me. “Enjoy the food. It’s on me today.”
“Thank you,” we say in unison, and I give Everett a light kick under the table.
Everett lifts a finger his way. “Chase? What do you think happened that night?”
Chase looks to the ceiling a moment. “Easy. I heard there were two girls that were gunned down and a third injured. All three of them were bakers set to compete in some big bake-off coming up. I think someone wanted to bump off the competition. If I were the Ashford Sheriff’s Department, I’d talk to the one that survived with nothing but a simple knock to her head. She’s probably the one that did it. Nice attempt at trying to make herself look like a victim. And if she happens to own a gun—well, that would be the clincher. It’s an open and shut case, if you ask me.” He nods to us all before taking off, and both Taffy and Princess chortle in his wake.
“Did you hear that? He’s pointing the finger at me,” I say, incensed.
Noah takes a deep breath. “I won’t lie, Lottie. Ivy still has your picture up on the suspect board.”
I roll my eyes at that one.
Just the thought of Ivy Fairbanks makes my stomach roll. I have it on good authority she has the hots for Noah. Honestly? Who could blame her?
“Well, I didn’t do it.”
Everett swirls his drink in his hand. “Ruthie sounds like she had a reason to be angry.”
Noah nods. “So does your buddy. Do you think he’s capable of something like this?”
Everett winces. “His heart was sold on her for as long as I knew it. He’s always been just this side of obsessed with Whitney.”
“Obsessed?” My eyes widen with the revelation.
“Nothing twisted, I don’t think.” Everett looks momentarily distressed. “I can’t see him gunning her down. It’s been over nine months since that wedding fiasco. And then there was Patricia. Killing two women in cold blood doesn’t sound like the Chase Davis I once knew.”
“People change,” Noah says just as our food arrives.
“So I guess Ruthie is next on the list.” I look to Noah for affirmation, and he’s slow to shake his head.
“I’m sorry, Lot.” Noah’s dimples dig in, no smile. “This one cut too close to home. If there’s a baker out there bumping off the competition, sending you death threats, the last thing I’m going to do is feed you to the lions. I’m officially taking you off the case.”
Everett nods. “And I’m officially agreeing with him.”
I lift my mojito and take a quick sip of its tropical goodness.
Fine. They can have it their way. But it just so happens that my mother is hosting her matchmaker mixer tomorrow night, and I think I’ll need one more bakery to help with the catering. I’m thinking the Upper Crust Bake Shop will do.
It’s not my fault if I just so happen to bump into Ruthie Beasley.
And for the record, I won’t be investigating. I’ll simply be shooting the breeze with one of my esteemed colleagues.
Who knows? We might even get around to exchanging recipes—or swapping theories about a certain double homicide that’s momentarily thrown both of our lives off the rails.
I’ll be sure to shake everything out of Ruthie that she’s willing to give me.
Even if it’s murder.
Chapter 7
True to Noah and Everett’s word, the very next day I have an ultra-muscular, ultra-creepy security guard stationed right outside my bakery.
The guard in question is a tall, beefy, bald man with eyes that prowl the vicinity as sure as lasers. I’ve tried to ask his name and tried to get him to smile. I’ve tried to give him a cookie, but it’s as if I’m invisible to him. Everett told me they instructed him not to commingle with anyone whatsoever unless he’s suspicious of them. And so far, this six-foot-five wall of muscles has been suspicious of no one.
But the day is done, the bakery is closed, and it’s time to take all of the sweet treats I’ve baked for my mother’s matchmaker mixer and deliver them to her B&B. I’ve even baked a three-tiered cake covered in fondant that I’ve scored to give it a quilted appeal. The bottom tier is red, the middle tier is fuchsia, and the top tier is a soft baby pink, topped off with a bouquet of my conversation heart cookies.
Everett showed up just as Lily and I were about to pull away and followed us to the B&B to help offload all the goodies.
The conservatory in my mother’s B&B is illuminated with just enough light to set the right mood for all things romantic. The entire cavernous space is festooned with pink and red hearts everywhere you look. Her tiny bistro tables are strewn about, and each one is dotted with a votive candle with a flame dancing and flickering inside.
Smooth and easy love songs stream through the speakers overhead, and the throngs of bodies already filling the room have wasted no time in swaying to the music. Even the ghosts are having a good time. Greer and Winslow are currently slow dancing near the crystal chandelier my mother has hanging up above. Thirteen and Princess have been frolicking away in a ghostly game of cat and mouse. And little Lea has been stalking the room while whipping Taffy around by the tail. I’ll admit that Lea’s treatment of Taffy looks disconcerting, but every now and again he lets out a righteous howl of delight that assures me he’s having the time of his nonexistent life.
And since my sisters helped with the decorations, both of them have decided to stick around with their plus ones. Lainey and Forest are slow dancing to the music. Meg and her boyfriend, Hook Redwood, look as if they’re conducting some sort of wrestling takedown of one another. Hook runs his family’s real estate empire along with the finance firm he’s started with Noah’s brother, Alex.
Speaking of Noah’s playboy of a sibling, he’s already swift on his feet with Naomi Turner while Lily looks red as a fire engine in the corner.
Keelie told me that as soon as their mother mentioned the event, Naomi knew Lily would be here setting up the sweet treats, so Naomi being her devilish self, invited Alex out for a romantic night on the town.
Poor Lily. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Honey Hollow were hit with another double homicide. If I were Naomi and Alex, I’d watch my back.
“Thank you for helping, Everett,” I say as we set the very last platter into place. Everett looks stunning tonight in his sharp suit and bright red tie. Most of the women here have slowly migrated his way to get a better look at the sexy judge in our midst. Everett has a way of stealing the spotlight from just about every male wherever he goes.
“I’m always ready and willing to help you.”
I crimp my lips up at him. “Me? I thought you came by to help Lily.” I couldn’t help letting the dig fly. I’m still not over the fact he’ll be going to the Love at the Evergreen event with Lily as his date.
Everett’s lips twitch as he does his best to contain a smile. Everett has never been one to curve his lips in the right direction freely. Every smile he gives is few and far between and hard-won to boot.
“I’m here for you, Lemon. It’s always you.”
Now it’s me twitching my lips, only I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Everett, I know Lily will be your date at the Evergreen on Valentine’s Day. And I just want you to know that’s okay.” My voice cracks when I say that last word as if it were anything but okay.
Everett tips his head to the side. His lips pull back as he examines me with those searing blue flames he calls eyes.
“Can I have this dance, Lemon?”
“Dance?” My eyes widen as I glance next to us where couples sway slowly as they talk amongst themselves and laugh. “Yeah, sure.” My stomach cinches as Everett takes me in his arms, navigating us deep into the crowd as the room seems to grow darker by the minute.
Everett pulls me close to him by the small of my back, and I can feel his powerful heartbeat ricocheting over my body like thunder.
“This is nice,” I say as I press my lips tight in fear I tell him exactly how nice I’m finding it.
“This is nice,” he whispers it close to my ear, and the entire left side of my body ignites like fire. “See that?” He nods over to Alex and Naomi, and I can’t help but frown. “That’s why Lily asked me to the Evergreen on Valentine’s Day. She wants Alex to see her in a red dress designed specifically to make him sweat.”
I take in a breath as my cheeks burn bright. “Of course.” I exhale with a small laugh, but I quickly sober up once again. “Everett. If you wanted to—you know, see someone…” I shrug because I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
His brows dip, meeting in the middle, looking like a bird in flight.
“I have a confession.” He pulls back with his lids hanging low. “I am very much seeing someone.”
“Who is she?” The words speed out of me so quick it sounds like a hiss.
Everett doesn’t say a word. He simply dots my nose with a kiss, and I can feel myself blushing all over again.
Someone gives Everett’s shoulder a tap from behind, and he steps back to expose Noah Corbin Fox in his tweed jacket and dark jeans, a dimpled grin breaking out on his handsome face just for me.
Noah tips his head to the side. “Mind if I cut in?”
My lips part as I look to Everett.
He gives a slight nod. “Take your time, Lemon. If you took a million years, I wouldn’t go anywhere.”
Before he can leave, Mom bops up wearing a tight red dress and a matching headband pressed into her hair with twin heart-shaped antennae wobbling back and forth. She holds a tray of various cocktails before her, each a variant shade of pink.
She giggles our way. “Noah, did you know your father is a premier mixologist? He’s so good, I’ve given him a position right here at the B&B.”
“What?” I hiss. “You hired Wiley to work for you as a bartender?”
“No way.” Noah shakes his head.
Everett nods. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” my mother is quick to snap. “The man is in need of honest employment and I happen to have a position that needed to be filled.”
“Mother.” I shake my head at her. “You run a B&B. People sip on cocoa and cider by the fire. Nobody has ever requested hard liquor here and you know it.”
She waves me off. “That’s because it wasn’t readily available. Now, how would you like a fresh and frosty concoction? We’ve got a cloud nine, strawberry sweetheart, love potion, sweet seduction, pink crush, Romeo and Juliet—and Wiley’s drink of the night, Mirandy Lemony Lemonade.”
A hard groan comes from me. “Please tell me you haven’t been letting him read your racy fiction.” My mother’s pen name happens to be Mirandy Lemonade. She’s yet to publish her foray into literature, but she freely distributes copies to unfortunate friends and family.
“Oh, Lottie, must you be so crass? Of course, I haven’t. But I do leave copies of my work in the sitting room, available for the viewing pleasure of anyone who happens to come across them. And should he have come across a copy, then so be it.” She gives a sly wink my way as she pushes her tray farther our way, and out of the blue pop two thin, pale arms as they each snatch a drink right off it.
The thin, pale arms happen to belong to Cressida Bentley and Cormack Featherby. They both look dazzling in matching pink and silver sequin dresses. I’m about to make a quip about them looking like disco ball inspired bookends when I spot a curious sight at the door.
Serena Digby, wicked witch extraordinaire, is speaking to a shorter redheaded girl that I recognize from the community center the other night. It’s Ruthie Beasley holding a platter of treats from the Upper Crust Bake Shop.
My mouth opens as I look to Everett and Noah. If I tell them about my plan to interrogate Ruthie, they’ll crush it like a tin can.
Cormack latches onto Noah and Cressida does the same to Everett and the two gentlemen do their best to rebuff the glittery girls.
“Oh, what’s one dance?” I say as both Noah and Everett widen their eyes my way.
Cressida sucks in a quick breath as she smacks her partner in curses crime. “The spell is working!”
Cormack huffs my way as she wraps her arms around Noah like a python. “Of course, it’s working. Laronda, go fetch yourself something to eat.” She turns back to Noah, as her lips curl with wicked intent. “We’re too busy to think about food. Our appetites are far more carnal than that.”
