Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Page 11

  If I pursue this case, does that make me a bad mother? A terrible wife?

  I wish I knew the answer to all the hard questions.

  I wish I knew who killed Gloria Abner. That would certainly feed my craving for justice.

  It’s almost as bad as my craving for a fried dill pickle right about now.

  Chapter 8

  The snow is coming down outside the window of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery while I dole out heaping helpings of my eggnog trifle to Lainey, Evie, Carlotta, and Keelie.

  A small crowd is pushing through, and Lily is helping out at the registers. Tonight is the official tree lighting ceremony right here in Honey Hollow, and I came in early to whip up a few sweet treats for the refreshment booth. Mayor Nash was kind enough to have the town foot the bill.

  Baby Josie squirms and giggles in my sister’s baby sling, and the tiny tot is perfectly adorable.

  “I’m madly in love with you, Josie,” I say as she gives my finger a squeeze and laughs her head off. “Lainey, can’t you give her just a bite of the trifle? She’s drooling for it.”

  “No way, no how.” Lainey bats my hand away from her baby girl. “Josie is on a sugar-free diet. The only sugar she’s allowed is in the baby food I make for her by way of fresh fruit.”

  Keelie shrugs. “Little Bear has already eaten an entire trifle on his own. And believe me, Lot, he loves it.” She narrows her eyes over at Lainey. “And don’t go judging me about it either.”

  Lainey lifts a hand. “To each her own. Bear is happy and healthy, that’s all that matters.”

  Keelie pouts regardless of my sister’s kind words.

  “What’s the matter, Sugar Toots?” Carlotta nods over to her niece. “Not feeling up to par as a mama just because Crunchy Granola here chooses to torment her offspring?”

  “No”—Keelie’s shoulders sag—“it’s not that. It’s just that the other women in the mommy and me classes have been acting up. They don’t think I notice when they’re giving me the side-eye, trying to mommy shame me after I tell them I only bathe baby Bear twice a week, or when their mouths fall open when I tell them I let the dog lick the food off baby Bear’s mouth.”

  “Keelie, I didn’t know you had a dog,” I say as I rub her arm in a meager effort to comfort her.

  “Oh, I don’t,” she says. “And when they found that out, it only made them gasp.”

  Evie pretends to gag with her spoon. “Who cares about those women, Keelie? It’s a classic case of mean girls. I hear soccer moms are ten times cliquier than high school girls. Don’t worry. You survived high school, you can survive this, too. Just let me know if you ever want to shank them. I’ve got connections to the underworld.”

  Sadly, Evie is not kidding. Luke Lazzari, a notorious crime boss—who coincidentally Carlotta once dated—is the one who helped us track Evie down when we found out Cressida was hiding a child from Everett.

  “Thanks, Evie.” Keelie sighs. “You know I actually feel better knowing that’s an option.”

  “It’s not an option,” I’m quick to nip the mommy shanking in the bud. “I can’t believe grown women behave like that.”

  “It’s true,” Lainey says, running her fingers through Josie’s feathery curls. “Having a baby is just a whole other world of responsibilities, and unfortunately some unsavory things come with it. But I’m sure you’re on top of things.”

  “Like what things?” I’m almost afraid to ask because I’m one hundred percent certain I’m not on top of any of them.

  “Like baby proofing your home.” Lainey shakes her head as if it were obvious. “Forest and I tackled that when I was four months along.”

  Keelie nods. “Bear and I did that about the same time. He stopped all of his other projects and put our little Bear first.”

  “So I noticed,” I say under my breath. At the pace he’s rebuilding my grandma Nell’s house, you’d think he was waiting for it to drop out of the sky miraculously. And knowing Bear, he just might be. “Wait a minute, I’ve just turned six months. That means I’m behind in the baby proofing department.”

  Lainey and Keelie exchange a glance.

  “Don’t worry.” Lainey waves it off. “You’ve practically got two husbands. I’m sure they can pound it out in half the time.”

  Keelie angles her head my way. “As long as you’ve got your bag packed for the hospital, you’re still pretty on top of things.”

  “What bag?” I look at them in horror.

  “Really, Lottie?” Keelie inches back. “I would have thought you, of all people, would have your baby ducks all in a row. I mean, you’re a successful businesswoman. And you track down criminals in your spare time.”

  Evie shakes her head. “Mom is way too busy hunting down killers to take care of an actual baby. I’m sorry, Mom, but it’s the truth.”

  “All that is going to change,” I tell her before reverting to my bestie and my sister. “So what kind of baby proofing are we talking about? I don’t have any stairs or a basement, so I think that about covers it, right?”

  “Pfft,” Lainey sputters out a laugh. “You’ve got to nail all your drawers shut, stick plastic doohickeys into every electrical socket, bubble wrap your coffee table, and create a UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship) octagon in your living room. Don’t even get me started on getting all of the toxins under your kitchen sink to someplace where little hands can’t reach them. And you can never buy laundry detergent pods again.”

  Carlotta slaps her hand on the counter. “You can lock up whatever you like, but you can’t take away my snacks.”

  I stare long and hard at the woman who bore me.

  I’m not even going to ask.

  Keelie nods. “It’s all true. And don’t forget about that fancy knife set of yours, Lottie—the one you keep on the counter? I’d just flat out get rid of those.”

  “Get rid of them?” I scoff at the thought. “Keelie, those are Swiss made blades. I spent more on that knife set than I did on my first car. Having the right knife means everything to someone who practically lives in the kitchen.”

  “Keelie is right.” Lainey shudders. “I’ve seen those knives, Lot. They’re so sharp the baby could slice off all its fingers before it even realized what it’s done.”

  “Geez!” Evie howls. “How could you have those in the house with me, Mom? Don’t you love my fingers?”

  “Of course, I love your fingers, Evie.” I make a face at my sister for putting the disturbing visual into her mind and mine to begin with. “I don’t think I need to get rid of anything just yet. The baby is still firmly tucked in my belly.”

  Carlotta clucks her tongue. “Not after that bawdy ballet you partook in last night.”

  Evie chuckles. “Cressi-duh sent me this last night.” She holds out her phone to Lainey and Keelie, and I crane my neck to take a peek, too. “Check out my new screen saver.”

  Both Keelie and Lainey let out a sharp cry, inciting every customer in this place to turn their heads our way. Lily comes running over and takes a peek herself.

  It’s a clear shot of me hanging upside down with that red cable wrapped precariously around my ankle. My dress is down around my armpits, and my belly bulge and parachute panties are protruding for all to see.

  “Knew it,” Lily says, making her way back to the register. “They should make procreating without a license illegal. I expected better from you, Lottie. I’d hate to think what would happen if Noah and Everett see that baby blasphemy taking place. I’d hide that from them if you know what side your Honey-Hollow-after-dark-loving is buttered on.”

  “It’s too late,” I hiss. “Noah and Everett showed up and saw the whole thing.”

  Another round of gasps ensues from the peanut gallery.

  “And they’re angry, too,” I add.

  “Wow.” Lily looks downright frightened for me. “And seeing that you live with Everett now, you’ve got nowhere to hide.”

  “You can say that again.” I catch a glimpse of the ti
me on Evie’s phone. “In fact, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in less than twenty minutes, and both Noah and Everett are going to be there. Evie, why don’t you come with me and be a buffer?”

  “Sorry, Mom. This is my last week of school before Christmas break, and all of my teachers thought it would be a good idea to send me off with a big test on Friday. Dash is meeting me here. We’re going to stuff our faces with cream puffs and cram.”

  I look out at the rest of the pool of prospective body shields.

  Keelie stretches her arms. “Well, break’s over. I’d better head back to the Honey Pot. Hope it all works out for you, Lot. I’d hate to see you go from having a husband and a boyfriend to being single once again all in one afternoon.”

  Lainey cinches her diaper bag to her shoulder. “It’ll be fine. If Forest even looked at me crooked while I was pregnant with this little peanut, I’d cry and he’d feel so bad he’d give me a massage. It’s a tried-and-true tactic, Lottie. I’d use it if I were you.”

  Both Keelie and Lainey scatter.

  “I’ll see you at the tree lighting ceremony tonight!” I shout after them.

  Dash walks in and Evie runs over to her as they exchange screaming hugs.

  I look to Carlotta. “And then there was one.”

  “Sorry, kid, but these kinky candles aren’t going to sell themselves.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got a whole new customer base for you.”

  I swipe up my purse and head out into the frozen December snow with Carlotta in tow as we head off to Dr. Barnette’s office.

  Certainly Noah and Everett have cooled off by now.

  Here’s hoping.

  Noah looks to Dr. Barnette. “She was tied up and yanked God knows how many feet in the air.”

  Dr. Barnette giggles as she looks to Everett. “My, my, Essex. Still up to your old tricks, I see.”

  No sooner did I pee in a cup and change into my gown than Noah and Everett entered the room with looks on their faces that explicitly suggested they were about to tell the teacher all about my acrobatic antics.

  Dr. Barnette looks my way with a touch of amusement. Her dark hair is pulled back, and she looks sharp as a tack with her dark-framed glasses and that white lab coat she’s wearing.

  Everett’s chest widens. “I can assure you, Priscilla, my bedroom tactics had nothing to do with this one.”

  I shoot him a look that screams traitor.

  “Dr. Barnette”—I soften my voice a notch—“I left a platter of Christmas cookies for you and the office staff up front. It’s loaded with gingerbread men, peppermint pinwheels, peanut butter blossoms, crème brulee sugar cookies, raspberry thumbprints, snowballs, shortbread bites, and Linzers. And I even included a box just for you to take home to your family.”

  “Why thank you, Lottie. I certainly appreciate that.” She sheds a tight smile from me to Carlotta.

  “That’s my, Lot Lot.” Carlotta sheds a greasy grin. “Bribing her way out of a pickle with the best of them. Don’t be surprised if she threw a few fried pickles in there, too. Come to find out, they’re her specialty.”

  Dr. Barnette gives a nervous laugh. “So, Lottie, how exactly did you end up airborne, and from what exactly?” She motions for me to lie down while she measures and listens to my stomach.

  “Actually, it was just a silly little thing,” I start.

  Carlotta barks out a laugh. “Silly if you think dangling fifty-feet off the ground from your ankle is silly. But she survived and the entire room got an eyeful of those god-awful panties she’s been wearing.”

  “They were your discards, Carlotta.” It’s only fair I took her reserves. She took mine.

  “Speaking of which.” She looks to the poor doctor. “Lot Lot would like a prescription to that trashy lingerie store that just opened up shop in Leeds, but she’s too embarrassed to ask. That’s why she brought me along, to ask all the tough questions.”

  Dr. Barnette tips her head back as she looks at me.

  Why do I get the feeling Dr. Barnette is officially the first woman to mommy shame me?

  “I’m sorry, but we don’t give prescriptions for that,” she says kindly to Carlotta, but I can tell her patience is beginning to fray. “Now, Lottie. No matter what you did to get yourself in that predicament, I recommend you never do that again. A fall from that height could harm both you and the baby.”

  My chest bucks as I struggle to keep my emotions in check.

  “It was an accident, I swear.”

  Everett takes up my hand and gives it a squeeze. “We know, Lemon,” he says it sweetly. “But we also know you didn’t need to be there.”

  Noah tips his head my way as if annunciating the fact he happens to agree.

  “You’re right. I didn’t need to be there,” I whisper as Dr. Barnette puts the monitor on my belly and the room explodes with the precious whomp, whomp, whomp of the baby’s beating heart.

  This time I can’t stop the tears. I could have ended this precious child’s life just because I felt the need to question a suspect.

  It’s clear my mothering skills are off to a lousy start.

  Carlotta leans an ear this way. “The kid sounds hungry, Lot. We’d better steal a few cookies off that platter before we head on out.”

  I shoot her a look. “That won’t be necessary. I have a stash in the car.”

  “Everything sounds good.” Dr. Barnette helps me back to a sitting position. “The baby is measuring on track, which means he or she is about twelve inches long and weighs about two pounds. You should be feeling the baby move more regularly now. And you might even feel the baby get the hiccups. The baby will now start to respond to the sound of your voices. And lastly, let’s not forget it’s winter in Vermont, which is a slippery situation all on its own, but I’d suggest investing in a good pair of boots for yourself.”

  Everett nods. “I’ll make sure that happens. My treat, Lemon. As many pairs as you like.”

  “Good,” Dr. Barnette says curtly. “And, Lottie, you need to make sure you stay away from any other hazards. I trust you to use your better judgment from here on out.”

  Noah lifts a finger in the air. “And maybe this is a good time to bring up the fact that sex can be harmful to the baby.”

  Dr. Barnette looks momentarily confused. “No, actually, sex is quite safe. This is a good time to discuss positions that are both comfortable and beneficial for both partners.”

  Noah grunts, “I’m out of here.”

  “Slow down, Foxy.” Carlotta catches him before he has a chance to sail out the door. “Something tells me this is information you might need to be privy to. You never know, she might switch teams halfway through.”

  Noah considers this, as I avert my eyes to Everett.

  “On second thought,” Noah resumes his position next to Everett. “I think I’ll stay put.”

  “See there?” Carlotta hitches her thumb his way. “That’s the look of hope in his sparkling green eyes. Don’t let him down, Lot. Fire one off his way once in a while, would ya?”

  I take a moment to glare at her.

  “What?” She tosses her head back as if she dares me to go there. “Right now, this baby is fifty percent Foxy’s. If you were a fair woman, you’d give Foxy fifty percent of the lovin’.”

  Everett’s chest expands. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that.”

  Noah’s brows hitch in amusement. “I’m going to put Carlotta in my will.”

  “Now we’re talking.” She clucks her tongue. “Wait a minute. Mr. Sexy holds the money bags around here.” Her mouth contorts as she looks to Everett. “I demand the jury scratch everything I just said.”

  “Duly noted.” Everett gives a single nod. “And I suggest you don’t discuss the case any further.”

  My lips press tightly even though that last little tidbit wasn’t meant for me.

  I’ll admit, it gets my hormones shooting through the roof whenever he decides to get judicial.

  “I have
an idea.” Dr. Barnette reaches behind her and picks up a few pamphlets. “Here’s a little reading material for the three of you.” She quickly passes them out, and Carlotta flicks her fingers until Dr. Barnette produces one for her as well. “Just a little something to give you all a point of reference as far as suggested positions. I’m sure you can well enough figure it out on your own. Lottie, make sure whatever you engage in that you’re well aware of what your body can handle.”

  “Don’t worry, Doc.” Carlotta tears through the pamphlet at record speed. “Lot comes from a hearty breed—read, slutty stock. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she came out with a pamphlet of her own. The girl has moves.”

  Dr. Barnett sheds a little laugh. “We wouldn’t be in this room if she didn’t.”

  Noah and Everett join in on the chuckle fest, and I shoot them both a look.

  “Lottie”—Dr. Barnette nods my way—“I’d like to check your iron levels before you leave. It’s routine at this point. My nurse can do the blood work as soon as you get dressed. And if you haven’t signed up for birthing classes, now is the time. They fill up quickly and you don’t want to wait until your ninth month, or you just may find yourself in a pickle.”

  Carlotta nods. “Lottie loves pickles. I guess you can say each of these men has a—”

  “Stop.” I hold a hand up and threaten her with all that I have in me, by way of a dark look. “Thank you, Dr. Barnette. I’ll be sure to get to that right away.”

  “On that note,” she nods. “Merry Christmas to you all, and I’ll see you in the new year.”

  We offer her the same warm holiday greeting, and once she leaves the room, I sigh as I look up at Noah and Everett.

  “All right, you two, let me have it,” I say.

  Carlotta gasps. “I didn’t think I’d get a front row seat to the main event. If you want, I can play the part of the cameraman for you and record this little flesh fest. Don’t say I’ve never done anything for ya. Now come on, you two, off with the clothes. They’re not gonna let us stay all night, ya know. If we play our cards right, we could be looking at mass distribution. This could be a turning point in all of our careers.”