Devil's Food Cake Doom Read online

  Jimmy tips his silver head of hair my way. “We can hear you, honey.”

  Carlotta scowls at me. “Don’t make them angry, Lot. I’ve been working real hard all night to put them in a good mood.”

  I run my eyes up and down her scantily clad body. “Judging by the fact you’ve got two grown men in their underwear, I’d say you were doing a stellar job. Where’s Mayor Nash? Why isn’t he a part of this?” I wince at what the city council would think of him cavorting with the likes of two notorious crime bosses. “Never mind. I can guess for myself.”

  Carlotta ticks her head to the side. “Then you probably know he’s passed out cold in my bedroom. He couldn’t make it beyond the second round. Not everyone is cut out to play strip poker with the best of them. We’ve almost gone through a barrel of whiskey.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Carlotta squints at the box in my hand. “Whatcha got there?” She sucks in a hard breath. “It’s another threat, isn’t it?”

  “Threat?” Luke Lazzari perks up, craning his head in this direction.

  Jimmy does the same, giving a beady-eyed stare to the box in question. “Who’s threatening our little Lot Lot?”

  Carlotta giggles. “I shared my pet name for you. I’m telling you, they’ve really taken a liking to you. They admire any woman who has two men on a leash.”

  Jimmy nods. “And such powerful men at that.”

  Luke lifts his half-empty beer bottle my way. “A sheriff and a judge. Good men. You did good, Lot Lot.” He raises his bottle higher before knocking back the rest of his drink.

  “I’m glad you approve.” Noah isn’t the sheriff, but I’m not about to correct them. God forbid Carlotta named names. Good Lord, half the town will be on a mob hit list by midnight thanks to Carlotta and her shirtless shenanigans.

  Luke beckons me forward with the flick of his fingers. “Now let’s see the threat.”

  Carlotta fills them in quickly on my psycho stalker, aka Serena Digby, that ridiculous curse she cast on me, and my brief imprisonment down in Leeds.

  Both Jimmy and Luke exchange hard looks, and I can’t tell if that means they’re angry for me or at me.

  I burst open the box at the seams. “This one was sent in the mail. I have my home under surveillance and whoever is doing this must know that. Of course, it’s Serena,” I say, pulling out a wad of black tissue paper, and sure enough a burnt heart-shaped cookie lands softly onto the table, covered in black icing, and across the top, in bright pink penmanship, it reads the end is near.

  Carlotta gasps.

  Rex lets out a wild bark. “I don’t like people threatening you, Lottie. I’ll bite their face off as soon as we nail them down.”

  I offer him a wry smile for the kind, yet violent, offer.

  Jimmy and Luke eye one another once again.

  Luke leans in. “Are you trying to tell me that the sheriff’s department, or that fancy rent-a-cop your boyfriends’ pitched in for, can’t get to the bottom of this?”

  I shrug as I stare down at the latest not-so-sweet threat. “That’s right. It’s been dragging on and on and I have no way to prove Serena is guilty of anything.”

  Jimmy pulls out his phone and begins punching something into it. “Serena Digby. Got it.”

  “Whoa.” Luke points a finger at him. “Who said you were going to handle this? See what just happened here? You took the initiative without even asking first. This is why things hit the fan between the two of us. Carlotta is right. We need to work on communication.”

  Carlotta grins my way. “I’ve spent the last few hours mediating between these two. Strip poker is a great equalizer.”

  I have a feeling so is whiskey.

  “And great news.” The words come from her like a question. “It turns out, your home has officially been accepted as neutral turf.”

  Jimmy nods. “We had to cut the security cameras, but we’ll have them turned on when we leave in the morning.”

  “In the morning?” The words blurt out of me before I can process them.

  Luke pulls the whiskey bottle to him. “That’s right, sweetheart. We don’t drink and drive.”

  “Perfect.” I swallow hard. “I guess I’ll get to bed. Alone,” I say in the event anyone thought I was throwing out an invitation.

  Jimmy holds up a finger as if to stop me. “Carlotta Junior. I’d like permission to investigate these cookie crimes against you. I don’t take kindly to people threatening my family.”

  “Hey”—Luke barks—“you can’t go claiming family. Everyone knows Carlotta is mine. Besides, I can do it quicker. I’ll have this figured out in no time.”

  Jimmy lets out a whoop of a laugh. “Wanna bet?”

  “You’re on. Loser has to treat the winner’s men to a nice steak dinner.”

  “Done,” Jimmy says as they shake on it.

  “Ah-ah!” Carlotta squawks. “Only if my Lot Lot approves.”

  All eyes turn my way, including the ghostly ones.

  Carlotta pokes me on the arm. “Well, Lottie? What’s it going to be?”

  Noah is at a standstill with the case.

  Everett hired Seven and nothing has happened either.

  “I don’t see what there is to lose,” I say. “Go get her, boys.”

  Serena Digby won’t know what hit her.

  She might have a faux curse working in her favor, but I’ve got two very real mobsters hungry for justice and a nice juicy steak.

  Serena Digby’s cookie making days are numbered.

  Chapter 16

  The foot traffic at the bakery is notoriously slow. It’s just one day post the inadvertent riot at my mother’s B&B, and business has slowed to a crawl for me this afternoon.

  “Do you think it’s the snow keeping people off the streets?” I ask Lily and Keelie as we stare blankly out the window as all of Main Street gets another dusting of the white stuff.

  “Nope.” Lily slings a kitchen towel over her shoulder. “It’s because your mother was forced to halt that afterlife parade of hers. Word on the street is she’s been operating without a liquor license.”

  I suck in a quick breath. “What street did you hear this on?” And I do believe her.

  “Seventh street.” She gives a wink over at Seven, aka Miles Rock, who’s currently slumped over a newspaper. “Miles knows everything.”

  “I’m not too surprised—by either of those things. Maybe now that Wiley’s not-so-great idea to turn my mother’s B&B into a dive bar has cost her everything, she’ll rethink her stance on him in general.”

  Keelie moans through a bite of one of my decadent caramel chocolate brownies. “I would think you’d be more sympathetic toward the guy, considering the fact he’s Noah’s father, but you’re really not.”

  “Nope.” I straighten. “I’m ruthlessly opposed to him. But my mother is a grown woman. And unfortunately, she’s reaping the consequences of some of her dicey decisions. I’m hoping she’ll come to the conclusion she needs to dump that wily fox herself. Besides, there’s a killer out there who tried to poison Noah and his friends. I’d like to focus all my energy on putting them away.”

  Rex staggers out of the kitchen with whipped cream all over his face and a cherry balancing on his nose. He quickly lashes his tongue over it, gobbling it down in one hasty bite.

  “Lottie Lemon, your cakes are making me rethink my stance on paradise.”

  A tiny giggle rumbles through me. I stacked three different cakes on the metal rack in my office and shut the door so Rex could go at it in private. A cannoli cake, a cherry chiffon, and an orange marmalade wonder. And by the looks of it, Rex has enjoyed them all.

  Keelie leans in. “You’re having a thought, aren’t you, Lottie? You’re planning on questioning a suspect without me, aren’t you?” Her hand cradles her budding baby belly and it certainly gives me pause.

  “I do plan on questioning a suspect. Tim’s ex-wife thinks the guy she was cheating on him with probably did it. I guess Tim dragged Perry Rosin�
��s name through the mud, real good. So the motive is there. Perry just so happens to be an investigator, too.”

  Lily clucks her tongue. “Isn’t that something? A PI had the nerve to off another PI at a PI convention. I bet every detective in that building is clamoring to solve this one.”

  “Not true,” a male voice says from near the window and we turn to find Seven flexing a newspaper in his hand.

  The three of us migrate his way without hesitation.

  “He speaks,” I say. It’s safe to say that up until now Seven has been a man of very few words. Most likely exactly seven of them. “Why is it not true? I would think they’d make some sort of competition out of it.” Sort of the way the mob is making a competition out of who can find my cookie stalker first. And I’m secretly thrilled about it. In fact, I’m already sleeping better at night. Not that I dare tell Noah or Everett that little mafia-based tidbit.

  Seven shrugs. “People in the PI industry observe the rule of first investigative rights. Both Detective Fox and Detective Gilmore were personally affected.” Nelson Gilmore was the one talking to Leslie that night and consequently poisoned as well. “And they were closest to Tim. It’s their case. Everyone else knows to back off.” Seven tips his bald head my way and squints over at me. “Except you.”

  I inch back. “Me?”

  Both Lily and Keelie burst out laughing as a group of customers walk in.

  Lily wipes a tear from her eye. “He’s got your number, Lot. I’ll take care of the customers. You go get that killer. I know you want to.” She takes off and Keelie steps up.

  “I’m coming with you, Lot. And if this Perry guy offers us a single cup of coffee we won’t take it. We’ll toss it back in his face and run the heck out of there.”

  “Keelie, as logical as that sounds, you can’t run—not in your condition, not fast enough to get away from a killer. And the ground is icing up out there. Bear will have my head on a platter if anything happens to you.”

  She knots up her lips a moment before offering me a manufactured smile. “That’s okay. You don’t have to include me in on your afternoon fun. I’ve got plans of my own.”

  I shoot a suspicious look her way. “All right, Turner. Spit it out. I recognize that naughty gleam in your eyes. You’re up to no good.”

  “Well.” She pulls out her phone, her fingers quickly dancing over her keyboard. “My best friend has someone sending her threats. And I’m determined to do something about it. There’s a certain private investigator named Detective Perry Rosin out in Fallbrook”—she says, double-checking her phone—“that I’m interested in utilizing. And seeing that I have the rest of the afternoon off, I’ll be leaving now to speak with him.”

  She starts to head for the door and I quickly grab her by the hand.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” I say. “Not without me.”

  With the snow coming down in a flurry, Fallbrook holds a whimsical snow globe appeal. Keelie reads me the directions on how to get to Perry’s office, and we find it first thing as soon as we exit the highway. No sooner do I pull into a parking space than I spot a tall man with a head full of gray hair ducking into a dark pickup.

  “Keelie,” I whisper for no good reason. “That’s Perry. It looks as if we missed him.”

  “Well, we can’t just sit here. Do something! Follow that man, Lottie Kenzie Lemon. That is a direct order from your superior.”

  “Fine. Geesh. By the way, you’re going to make a spectacular mother,” I say as I do my best to pull out of the lot not too long after him.

  “Lottie, look”—Keelie points to where the truck just took a right turn—“he just went into the Chicken Filet.” A hard moan comes from her. “Oh, Lottie, that man has great taste in food. I say we haul our butts in after him. Particularly my butt, because not only do I need to pee, but I’m having a mad craving for two or six of those chicken filet sandwiches with their special house sauce. Oh, and those criss-cut fries!” She wails as if she were in agony, so without hesitation I park in the very next spot next to Perry’s truck.

  Rex lets out a few approving barks from the back seat. “I’m in, Lottie! I want two or six chicken sandwiches myself.” His tongue lashes back and forth, affirming the fact.

  “Fine. You win, Keelie.” I wink over at Rex. “But only because I love both you and that bun you’re baking in the oven. If my BFF is craving a chicken filet sandwich or ten, then that’s what she gets. Hang on.” I come around on her side and link arms with her until we’re off the slippery pavement and into the warmth of the establishment.

  The restaurant is pretty crowded—as every Chicken Filet in the country is.

  No sooner does Keelie make a beeline for the restroom than I spot Perry doing a double take in my direction as he stands to the side waiting for his food.

  Great. He recognizes me. Of course, he recognizes me. It’s his job to recognize people.

  I’ll have to act natural.

  Rex looks over at him. “It’s the man from the crime symposium. The one who stole Leslie away from my Tim.”

  “So it is,” I whisper before heading his way. “Hey, I think we met last week at that crime thing. Noah introduced us.”

  “Perry Rosin.” He extends his hand. “We sure did. That was a crazy day. How’s Noah feeling?”

  “Better. Thank goodness, too. He said he spoke to Leslie and she’s feeling better as well.” I shrug over at him. “I’m really sorry about Tim.”

  “I’m not thrilled with it.” Perry’s elongated features only seem to stretch out all the more as he purses his lips. “Especially not since it casts a cloud of suspicion on me. I get it. People automatically assume I did it. I mean, the guy was my best friend and I slept with his wife. That doesn’t paint me in a great light. But I’m no killer.” He shakes his head just as his number is called and he snatches a to-go bag from the counter. “How’s Noah doing with the case? And don’t worry. I don’t suspect him of sending you out here to talk to me.” He presses out a forlorn smile. “Noah would never put anyone he loves in danger. Not that I’m dangerous, but questioning a suspect could put you in danger.” His brows hike a notch. “You wouldn’t voluntarily put yourself in harm’s way, would you?”

  Keelie waddles out, holding her belly as if it were a tiny ball someone placed under her shirt.

  “Ah, this must be your friend. And she’s expecting.” Perry nods as if putting together the pieces of my intentions. “Of course, you would never put an expectant friend in the line of danger.” He comes shy of winking, and I can’t help but feel as if I were just caught with my hand in the investigative cookie jar.

  Keelie offers the two of us a quizzical look. “I’m hopping in line, Lot. I’ll order up enough sandwiches for the both of us.”

  Rex barks, “And I’m getting hungry. Get him to admit that he’s the killer. I’m about to steal a sandwich right out of somebody’s hand.”

  “I’m sorry to keep you.” Perry nods my way. “Tell Noah and Everett I said hello.”

  “I will,” I say, stepping in front of him. “Perry, if everyone thinks you killed Tim, who do you think did it?”

  He tips his head back as he studies the ceiling a moment. “Honestly, I would point the finger at me as well. Noah probably mentioned it, but Tim and I went in on a bad real estate investment. The long and short of it is, we bought a gym. And as it turns out, we both had different visions for the place. He wanted to maintain a vintage feel, and I wanted to bring the place into the twenty-first century. There were bad blood, bad money, and a woman between us. My innocence should be subject to question. But I didn’t kill him. I know, that’s the battle cry of the guilty as well.” He shakes his head wistfully. “I don’t know who killed him. But I will tell you this. They didn’t need to work hard to expertly pin it on me. Poisoning him with excess caffeine was an excellent touch. Typically, only weight trainers use the stuff. It comes in two forms, but the powder is harder to come by. Some of the old guys like me might still have a stash lying aroun
d.” He blows out a breath. “And, of course, if someone were really trying to make me look guilty, they’d make sure I was one of the few who didn’t have a trace of the stuff in them.”

  My eyes widen with the implication. “But the killer would,” I say mostly to myself.

  “Now you’re thinking like a detective.” He takes a step toward the door then pauses. “Have you talked to Sloan yet?”

  Rex growls, “I think he’s trying to throw us off, Lottie. I don’t like this.”

  I wince over at Perry. “Oh, actually, I don’t know who Noah is talking to.”

  A smile warms his face. “Come on, Lottie. I’ve read all about the killings in Honey Hollow. And I read all about how an innocent baker brought each killer to justice. You’re forgetting that winnowing the truth from fiction is my day job. And I know it’s yours, too. You’re in it for the thrill—right along with your desire for justice. Sloan Richardson works at the Attic Addict down in Leeds. Tim met her on assignment. I know this because we were still friends when he started his affair with her.”

  I suck in a quick breath and Rex lets out a sharp bark.

  “We won’t judge him, Lottie,” Rex growls. “Tim was a good person at heart.”

  “Wow,” I say. “This is new information to me. Thank you for that.”

  He nods my way. “You’re welcome. I’d tell you to say hello to Noah and Everett, but I have a feeling you won’t be sharing the fact you ran into me.”

  Rex barks out a laugh. “He knows you well.”

  I cinch my lips at the thought. “Just know I’d say hello for you if I could.”

  Perry belts out a short-lived laugh. “You’d better get a move on. The Attic Addict closes at seven sharp. Sloan will likely be there. She runs the place for her aunt.”

  He takes off just as Keelie comes my way with two bags brimming with food.

  “Keelie”—I say with my eyes bugging out—“who’s going to eat all that?”

  “I got a bag for you and Noah—and Everett.” She gives a cheeky wink. “And a bag for me.”

  “What about Bear?”