Cookie exchange executio.., p.9
Cookie Exchange Execution, page 9
Wiley lifts a finger. “The coffee is right behind you, Lottie. I like mine with cream and sugar.” He looks over at Carlotta. “I used to take it plain and bitter, like my women. But after I met Miranda, I like it luscious and sweet, just like the woman who stole my ticker.” He beats his arm over his chest.
“You do that again, and your ticker might stop working,” I warn.
Carlotta chuckles. “At least he didn’t encourage you to try again to see if you could get it right. Lot Lot and Cha Cha are in cahoots, trying to get me to step in a puddle while they make arrangements to toss in a livewire.” She leans toward him. “I give a sip of my coffee to the cats in the morning just to be safe, if you know what I mean.”
“Carlotta,” Lottie hisses as she works to make my father the perfect cup of joe. “You know I’ve asked you a million times not to feed Pancake or Waffles. Coffee isn’t good for them.”
“Why not, Lot?” Carlotta’s eyes bug out as she turns her head slightly to the side. “Is it because the coffee you give me has a little arsenic in it? I’m onto you, Lot Lot. Hear that, Foxy? Bun Head? If I kick the bucket, I want the butchering baker here shaken down until all of her potions fall to the ground.”
Dad turns toward Lot. “Pancakes and waffles sound amazing right about now. Can you make that happen?”
“No,” she tells him as she hands him a cup of coffee.
“Thank you. This is perfect.” He gives a wistful tick of the head. “Second best only to your mother’s. That woman is the air I breathe, I tell you. Too bad I’ll have to do some hard time because of her.”
“Dad?” I say as I continue hunting and pecking my way through the filing cabinet. “Care to elaborate?”
“I’m gonna have to kill Roux Wheatley.”
“Dad.” I slam one drawer shut before opening another. “You do realize you’re discussing a premeditated murder right in front of two homicide detectives. We basically already have enough evidence to put you away for life.”
“Hogwash,” he says before taking another sip. “We’re all family here. Nobody is going to rat me out.”
“Ivy’s not family,” Lottie points out.
“That’s right, Wiley,” Ivy says as her fingers glide over the keyboard. “Try to keep your homicidal fantasies relegated to your imagination. No use in putting me in a pickle.”
Carlotta sniffs. “I think we all know who needs to go next, Lot.” She hitches a thumb at my partner.
Ivy laughs. “The fact Lottie hasn’t killed me yet is a sheer miracle. You must love to have me around,” she teases.
Lottie pours another cup of coffee. “Someone needs to pretend to solve all the cases.”
Carlotta snickers. “Careful, Lot, she’s armed.”
Lottie hands Carlotta a cup of joe as well. “That’s funny. So am I.”
“What’s in this, Lot?” Carlotta sniffs the Styrofoam mug. “Is it gonna give me a long and lingering death, or will it be short and sweet?”
“Long and lingering,” Lot says. “That’s the cheapest coffee on the block, and I’m pretty sure it’s loaded with enough carcinogens to do a complete takedown of your liver over the next forty years if you gulp it down regularly.”
“Hear that, Wiley?” Carlotta clutches her throat with her hand. “I’ve only got forty years to live!” She chokes and sputters in a dramatic fashion.
Dad leans in. “Mind if I take a little life insurance out on you?”
“Noah,” Lottie says before I can intercept my father’s inherent greed from taking flight—or rather, keep it from landing. “Look at this.” She holds out a stack of flyers my way. “They’re promotional posters for Congressman Arnold from his campaign last November. And they’re not just for one rally. There’s a stack of promotional posters from about six different stops on Congressman Arnold’s old reelection tour.”
“Interesting,” I say, stepping over to take a better look at them. I guess Leeds Automotive is a pretty big supporter.”
“And look at this.” She pulls out another stack from a bin behind the coffeemaker. “An entire stack of flyers strictly related to the Good Giving Foundation. Noah, those are the only two varieties of flyers in that entire basket. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“So much for the pros in the room getting her done,” Carlotta quips. “Lot Lot’s already put two and two together. Don’t ya see? The Good Giving Foundation is funneling their funds through this place so they can pay for the congressman’s campaign catering costs.” She slaps her hands together. “Flim flam, bing bang, lock ’em up, Foxy, so Lot and I can get out of here. I’m ready to turn in my resignation before the sun goes down.” She swings her gaze at my father. “The pay might be better than hocking hot dogs on the frozen sidewalk, but you got to stay true to yourself. Never sell your soul unless it’s for rock n’ roll.”
“You go stick it to the man.” Dad thrusts a fist in the air. “Life’s too short to spend eight hours a day doing what you hate.”
“Did you know it’s really nine?” Carlotta asks with an incredulous tone. “They’re making me stick around an extra hour in the name of lunch. And they’re not paying me to do it either.”
Dad slams a hand over the counter. “I say until they pay us to eat, we revolt.” He takes off his nametag and lands it on the counter.
Carlotta slaps her flyers over the counter right next to it. “I quit.”
“Well, I quit, too,” Dad shouts as if it were a battle cry.
Lot sighs. “It’s nice to know Lyla Nell has a good work ethic coded into her DNA.”
“She does,” I tell her. “From us.”
The door bursts open, and a frigid breeze blows in along with a stunned Dale Hunt with a sorrowful Christmas tree slung over his back.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks as he does his best to take us in.
Ivy jumps away from the computer and backs into Lot, thereby pushing Lot right into my body. I stumble back and pivot, taking Lottie with me. And in an effort to keep us both from falling, I flip her over onto the table and land my body on top of hers.
“Oh, Noah,” she calls out.
“Lottie,” I moan, unable to move my back one inch. After last night’s fiasco, it was already on the verge of freezing up on me, and I’m afraid I just pushed it over the edge. I’ll be lucky if I can walk out of here, let alone make a run for it.
“Don’t mind them,” Carlotta says. “They’re newlyweds. We can’t go ten steps without the two of them rutting in a corner.”
Dad chuckles. “It’s good to see my boy has got some moves. I think they’re trying for baby number two.”
“In here?” Dale sounds irate. I bet if I could see him, he’d look that way, too. “Get the heck out—all of you.”
“Now, now, no reason to get uptight,” Carlotta grouses. “Mr. Dimples here invited us all to enjoy the coffee bar. Don’t you want to keep your customers happy?”
“How many cars did you bring in?” he asks.
“By cars, do you mean hot women?” Carlotta counters. “Because you’re looking at three of ’em.”
Dale Hunt gives us all the boot, and I’m not too sorry about it. Good thing my face was turned away from him for the entire duration of our time together. Ivy and I didn’t exactly have warrants to go digging around.
We head back into the snowy morning, and I walk Lot and Carlotta to their minivan.
“What do you think, Noah?” Lottie asks as Carlotta hops into the passenger’s seat.
“I think it’s a mighty big coincidence that wherever Manchester Featherby is lately, so is Congressman Arnold.”
She nods. “I don’t believe in coincidences, Noah, and neither do you.”
“You’re right.” I brush the hair from her eyes. “I believe in fate.” I offer a meager smile. “And for whatever reason, fate has us staring down the barrel of two very powerful men.”
I give her a quick embrace and we part ways.
Congressman Arnold and Manchester Featherby spin in my mind for the rest of the afternoon.
Something isn’t sitting well with me, and I won’t rest until I can pinpoint exactly what it is.
And then it hits me. If I’m right, Carlotta wasn’t too far off the mark.
Now all I need to do is a little more digging in the most dangerous direction of all.
And if I get caught, I might be the next body Everett finds on his porch.
I can’t let on that I know what I do.
There is no room for error.
There never is.
Everett
I can count on one hand how many times I’ve come close to letting my nerves get the better of me.
The day Lemon became my wife was the first. I realize that it was just an arrangement at the time, but I will never forget how beautiful she looked—how she glowed as she walked down the makeshift aisle at my mother’s home.
It was just a few hours before Christmas Eve, and we ended the night at the cusp of midnight, so our anniversary always feels as if it extends right through Christmas. But watching her stride my way with that determined look of love in her eyes, it sent me to so many emotional places at once. I will never forget that as long as I live, nor would I want to.
The second time was the night Lyla Nell came into the world. Lemon went into labor right there at the B&B, and I helped bring our baby girl into the world. My heart was drumming out of my chest so hard, I thought I’d drop dead on the spot if it beat any faster. I had never done anything like that.
I had never seen a miracle like that take place.
It certainly felt like an out-of-body experience in every way. And getting to hold our beautiful daughter—she was light as air, and I was smitten beyond belief before and after her birth.
I didn’t get to have that experience with Evie. Cressida, her selfish mother, held Evie back like a poker hand ready to drop in front of me once she needed a sufficient form of blackmail.
Had she told me about the pregnancy from the get-go, I most likely would have proposed to her in an effort to do the right thing. Our marriage would have ended in disaster, but at least I would have had Evie in my life from the beginning. I would have gladly suffered through any drama Cressida would have drummed up to have it be so. I would have thrown all the alimony Cressida wanted in the aftermath as well. But I’m just thankful I’ve had Evie these last few years.
And my most recent foray into the jitters would be right about now. It’s a seemingly innocuous Thursday. I cleared my schedule so that I could spend the day with Lemon. Tonight is the big house reveal.
I’ve got Evie, Charlie, Keelie, and Bear working overtime to put the finishing touches on the place. Noah is taking a half-day himself to head over and see if they needed any last-minute help. The furniture Lemon had her eye on has been delivered and set into place. I did a walk-through last night, and it’s one hundred percent move-in ready. As soon as we have our surprise party for Lemon tonight, I’ll write a check to the tune of fifty grand and give it to Bear.
A part of me was afraid to jump the gun until Lemon set foot in the place. I didn’t want to jinx anything. This house has been a long time coming, and I couldn’t think of a better Christmas gift to give her than having us move into our very own home.
That’s exactly what has me seated on a stool right here at the bakery with Lyla Nell in my arms. The afternoon rush just died down. I stepped into the bakery just a few minutes ago, and Lemon thinks my day ended early. In truth, I spent the morning helping Bear install Christmas lights at the new house. I almost slipped off the ladder while up near the second story, but thankfully, that tragedy was averted. That’s pretty much when Bear told me to get lost, that my dress shoes and his work ladder didn’t get along. He was right on that account.
Lemon slides a plate full of fudge brownies my way and a teething biscuit for Lyla Nell. She has a Santa hat on, as does the rest of her staff, and the entire bakery is decorated to the holiday hilt.
“What about me, Lot?” Carlotta slaps her hand over the counter three times fast. “And I don’t want any of that experimental hooey you’ve been giving me lately, either.”
Lemon frowns over at her as she slides a glazed cruller her way. “I’m tinkering with my pâte à choux dough. Tell me what you think.”
Carlotta gives me the side-eye. “See that, Sexy? I’m nothing but a lab rat around here.”
Lemon nods. “A lab rat that gets to eat all the desserts she wants for free, and when she’s done here, she gets to eat free next door at the Honey Pot Diner, too.”
“Nope,” Carlotta contests. “Cha Cha charges me double to eat at her place. She thinks it’ll stop me from going over and having a bite, but little does she know, I’ve got access to a certain tip jar that more than makes up for my meals.”
Lily gasps. “I thought our tips were lower than usual. And here I blamed the holidays.”
Carlotta shrugs. “You should have blamed Suze.”
Lemon lands her elbows on the counter in front of me with a dreamy smile on her face. “Is it wrong of me to be thrilled that all of your cases were miraculously canceled today?” She picks up a brownie for herself and takes a bite.
“Not in the least,” I tell her. “If I had my way, I’d cancel all cases for the month of December. I’d love nothing more than to spend the entire holiday season with all three of my girls.”
Lyla Nell laughs and gives my cheeks a pat.
“Aww,” Lily coos as she heads this way. “Lyla Nell really loves her daddy—both of them.” She shrugs. “And she really loves both of her mommies, too. She calls Charlie Mama as much as she does Lottie.”
Lemon makes a face. “It’s true. But I’m sure she’ll grow out of it.”
“That’s right.” Suze smirks as she makes her way over. “Just like she’ll grow out of calling Noah Dadda.” She shakes her head at Lemon. “Just know you’ve created this debacle. When hearts start breaking, the blame will fall squarely over your shoulders.”
“Suze,” I implore her to stop with nothing more than my tone.
“Don’t you Suze me, Essex. She’s taking down your life, too. It won’t be long now before she kicks you out of bed and lands Noah next to her. I can feel it coming. You know full well she’s got you on a rotation.”
“It’s true.” Carlotta sighs. “My advice to you, Lot, is not to kick anyone anywhere unless that’s a part of your nighttime repertoire. Just head across the street to have a little Foxy time now and again, and that should take the edge off both of you.”
I growl at the thought. “Lemon, anytime you need to take the edge off, I’m your man.”
“My husband,” she says with a delicious smile.
“One of your husbands,” Suze points out.
“Hey?” Lily steps this way. “Isn’t your anniversary coming up soon? Two years?”
“That’s right,” I say. “Two years and going strong.”
“Indeed,” Lemon says, toasting me with a brownie.
“You should do something special for him,” Lily says, bumping her shoulder to Lemon’s. “I know for a fact Essex has a weakness for skimpy little nighties. And I was just at Scarlet Sage’s boutique this morning during my break and saw she had an entire slew of holiday-themed negligées.”
“Lily,” Lemon hisses. “We’ve got customers. And Lyla Nell is present. Please refrain from speaking about my husband’s preferences in mixed company.”
I twitch my lips at Lemon, because even though Lily is correct, Lemon doesn’t need to wear a stitch to impress me. And how I appreciate it when she doesn’t wear a stitch.
“Naughty holiday nighties?” Carlotta raises a brow. “I’ll have to stop by and stock up. How about you, Suze? Is Horny Thorny running low on her supply of see-through undies?”
“Oh, stop it,” Suze snips at her.
I glance at Lemon. “Do I want to know what this is about?”
She shakes her head. “Have some hot cocoa to go with your fudge brownie.” She slides a mug my way. “And try some of my eggnog coffee, too, while you’re at it. I’ve upped the nutmeg in the recipe this year.” She pours me a cup and slides it my way as well.
“Welcome to the guinea pig club, Sexy,” Carlotta grumps.
Suze chuckles. “For all you know, Essex, Lottie could be using you to steal all of your bedroom moves to share with Noah. Your entire marriage could be nothing but a sexual rouse.”
Lemon rolls her eyes. “You caught me, Suze. I’ve been undercover—literally under the covers—for the last two years trying to steal all of Everett’s bedroom moves so that I could share them all with Noah one day.”
“Ah-ha!” Suze doesn’t hesitate to point a finger at her. “So it’s true! How do you think Noah will feel when he hears about this?”
“Grateful?” Carlotta doesn’t miss a beat. “Sexy’s got an entire naughty lineup in his repertoire. Lot Lot has to get the details right, so it’s understandable that it’s taking some time.”
“You’re right,” I tell her. “And we haven’t even scratched the surface. It’ll take another fifty years or so just to nail down the basics, and from there we can segue to some of my more advanced techniques.”
Lily sighs. “Lottie, you’re so lucky.” She scowls at her. “And greedy. I’ll have you know every other woman who was with Everett prior to you was kind enough to take what she needed and send him back into the wild so that other women could have a slice of Sexy pie.”
“She’s greedy, all right.” Suze sniffs.
Lemon’s mouth falls open. “Suze, you do realize I’m your employer.”
“Pfft,” she balks. “You’ll never get rid of me. My job is as secure as a schoolteacher with tenure. I could show up drunk with a cigarette in my mouth, sprinkling ashes all over your cookies, and I’d still have a job. Noah told me so himself. He said you’d never get rid of me because you consider me family.” She says family in air quotes.
And she’s most likely right about everything she just spouted off.
Lemon’s shoulders sag. “Okay, so it’s true. But please don’t test me on that whole drunk cigarette smoking theory of yours. Just knowing there’s a killer running loose sets me on edge.”
