Key Lime Pie Perjury: Cozy Mystery (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 34) Read online

  “Did you review the footage?”

  “Not yet. I’ll do that now.”

  “All right. I just walked into my office.” I lock the door behind me. “And I see the briefcase right where I left it.” I head over and take a seat before hoisting it up onto my desk. My insides do a small revolution when I note the weight seems considerably lessened. Did I notice that this morning? Probably not. I’ve been nursing one hell of a headache ever since I opened my eyes.

  “All right,” Noah says. “I’m looking at the footage right now, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone entering the property while we were gone. I see my truck pulling back into the driveway, and oh geez. Did you piss in my truck?”

  My heart starts to thump as I open up the latches to the briefcase. It’s still the same one Luke gave me, no doubt about that. I’m sure every dollar is still present and accounted for. I’m just letting Noah get into my head, that’s all.

  “And I see Lottie helping me into the house,” he says. “I’ll fast-forward to see if anything happened while I was out cold.”

  I pull the lid up slowly, my adrenaline beginning to surge, and then I see it.

  “It’s gone,” I say, quickly thumbing through the contents of the briefcase. “The money is gone, and all of the files from my old briefcase are sitting in its place.” I glance at the front of it, and it is the briefcase Luke gave me.

  Noah sighs hard. “There’s a dark figure, clad in black, black ski mask coming up the side of my house. A hand is reaching for the camera, and it’s just been turned toward the wall. Nice try, but I recognize the wedding ring. Everett, it was Lottie.”

  “Lemon.” I close my eyes. “We need to get to her.”

  “She’s running around Honey Lake with Lyla Nell, a pile of dirty money, and mountain of cocaine. This is what we get for keeping secrets from her. She’s asking for trouble, and she doesn’t even know it.”

  “Let’s hope trouble doesn’t find her before we do. I’m on my way.”

  Lemon, what have you done?

  Or more to the point, how did I not see this coming?

  Lottie

  Honey Lake is bustling on this hot and muggy afternoon.

  The sand is covered with beach blankets, cabanas, and teenagers playing volleyball. And the lake is filled with every type of water vessel a day like today calls for.

  Last week, Everett arranged for the boat to be put into the water, and so I asked Keelie to keep an eye on Lyla Nell for me while I made a special delivery to the master suite of that luxury yacht. I locked the boat up and headed straight back for the booth with a hot pink sign that reads Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery!

  Thankfully, Mayor Nash installed temporary refrigeration units, ovens, and cooktops for those of us that needed it. I’m still doing all the baking at the bakery and having the desserts delivered straight to the refrigerated shelves, but the Honey Pot Diner and a few of the other restaurants are doing a limited menu on site with the aid of the makeshift cooktops.

  Lily wipes her brow with her forearm. “I can’t wait until the sidewalk nightmare is over and we’re back in the bakery where we belong. I can’t take any more of this heat.”

  “I love the heat.” Suze shakes her face into the heated breeze. “Reminds me of my time in Florida. That’s why I left Vermont to begin with. It was too frigid for my bones, puts me in a bad mood.”

  “I wonder what her excuse is from May through August?” I mutter to Carlotta.

  “Probably you.” She winks my way.

  And I think she might be right.

  Keelie comes this way, bouncing Lyla Nell in her arms. I’ve dressed the baby in a lavender sundress with a matching bonnet, and she looks like a little confection herself.

  “Lottie, I think I’m going to keep her,” Keelie coos as she lands a kiss to Lyla Nell’s cheek and the baby giggles up a storm.

  Carlotta takes a breath. “You can keep her, but it’s gonna cost you a fat nickel. I’m thinking two hundred bucks. What do you think, Lot?”

  Lily chortles. “Up the price to a cool grand. You could really make a business out of this. Think about it, you could have the Fox collection and the Baxter collection. I bet you’d make a killing.”

  “She’s right, Lot.” Carlotta smacks me hard on the arm. “And as a part of the purchase agreement, you can stipulate that the responsible party puts a little to the side each month for the kid’s college fund. That way you can feel like you did something good for the Little Yippers.”

  “I’m not quantifying any of that by way of perpetuating the conversation.”

  Carlotta makes a face. “Ms. High and Mighty Fancy New York education talking. I didn’t understand but two of those words.”

  “I’ve got some words you can understand.” I pull her to the side. “Carlotta, why did you perjure yourself on the stand all those years ago in Higgins Bottom? Pretty Boy said it had something to do with a robbery.”

  “Pretty Boy was drunk as a skunk, and we both know it. Besides, I didn’t want to say anything when he was around, but the little cute pooch is nothing but a big, fat liar. And the sad thing is, he believes his lies.”

  “That’s funny, because so do you.”

  A sprinkling of blue and green stars dots the atmosphere around us, and Pretty Boy pops right before us snarling and snapping at Carlotta.

  “Did I hear someone disparaging me? After all I’ve done for you, Carlotta. You keep this up, young lady, and no night walk for you tonight. Now, let’s see about getting me some of those chocolate chip biscuits and we’ll see if that can’t make me forget about the whole thing.”

  Carlotta clucks her tongue. “I’m sorry, Pretty Boy. But whatever you do, don’t take away my night walks.”

  “Come, come,” he calls, trotting ahead. “Let’s see what those biscuits can do.”

  Carlotta takes off and begins scooping up chocolate chip cookies by the handful in an attempt to get on her new owner’s good side.

  I step over to Keelie, who is contentedly rocking Lyla Nell to sleep.

  She shakes her head at me. “Don’t you think for a minute you’re getting her back, Lottie Lemon. In fact, my mother and your mother are sitting in that cabana right over there”—she nods a few feet away—“and they’ve got baby Bear in there, too. I think little Bear and Lyla Nell need to have a playdate this afternoon. Our moms can watch the babies while I take a nap in the sun and you work.”

  My mother and Keelie’s mother, Becca, are best of friends themselves. That has a lot to do with why Keelie and I are best friends, too.

  “Sounds like an even exchange to me. Are you and Bear coming to the redemption ball this Saturday at the B&B?”

  “You bet we’ll be there. After the last ball, we went home and he got to play the part of a handsome rake and I was the duchess in distress. I plan on kicking things up a notch after next Saturday’s ball. We should really look into having a regency ball once a week. This is something I can get into.”

  “Me too,” Lily chimes. “I had my dance card filled right up until you stabbed that poor man with your key lime pie, Lottie.”

  “I did not stab anyone with my pie.” I smile at a trio of customers before me and they scatter like birds. “And would you girls hush with the homicide horror stories. People don’t understand that you’re kidding.”

  Lily raises a brow. “Who’s kidding?”

  Mom skips this way with a sheer turquoise cover-up and her navy and white polka dotted swimsuit peeking out from underneath. Her makeup is impeccable. That red lipstick lets us know she means business, and that wide-brimmed straw hat tells the sun it has no business touching her face.

  “Keelie, you’ve been hogging that baby for an hour now. Do I really have to pry her out of your arms?” Mom coos at Lyla Nell. “Why, I bet Suze hasn’t even had the chance to hold her yet.”

  “I’ll pass.” Suze smears a short-lived smile. “I’m working, Miranda. I can’t have baby spittle on me. It wouldn’t meet the stringent sanita
ry standards your daughter has implemented around here.”

  A fly buzzes by and attempts to land on a muffin, and Suze makes crazy eyes at it until it zips off in the opposite direction. I mouth a quick thank you her way, and she gives a quick nod. Now that we’re relegated to a pop-up tent in the middle of a sandy shoreline, Suze has graciously been utilizing her beguiler abilities and has staved off more flies, gnats, bees, and stray frogs than I care to count. She might not care for Lyla Nell or me, but she sure seems to care for the baked goods. At this point, I’ll take what I can get.

  Mom swipes Lyla Nell from Keelie. “Come to Glam Glam, sweetie. You take your time, Lottie,” she says, taking the diaper bag from me. “Lyla Nell and I are working on a little surprise for Noah and Everett for Father’s Day.”

  “When is Father’s Day?” I ask.

  “This Sunday. But don’t you worry. The baby and I have their gifts all taken care of.” She leans toward the bakery shelves. “Ooh, can I get few of those salted caramel pretzel cookies? And be sure to throw in a few of those pistachio macarons. Lottie, you really don’t play fair. But I guess the sugar will do me good. Becca is helping me plot out a new book. I’m working on a Christmas romance. And I know it’s six months away, but it’ll take me that long to finish it.”

  I frown without meaning to. “Mom? What exactly has Wiley done with all of that money from the B&B? I mean, I know it went into his publishing house, but how exactly does that work?”

  A crowd meanders this way, and Mom looks more than relieved that she needs to get out of the line of fire.

  “The tour just wrapped up at the B&B.” Mom nods as she inspects the masses hurdling over small children and beach balls alike as they make their way over. “You know the ghosts have really kicked it up a notch back at the inn. Rooster had enough of them two nights ago and he up and left. He says he’ll still work at the B&B, but he refuses to lay his head there at night.”

  “Oh? Where’d he go?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “There are only two places to stay in Honey Hollow. I’m pretty sure he’s at the Evergreen Manor. Anyway, I instructed Wiley and Rooster to send the tourists right over to the lake to get their cookie fix.”

  “They’ll want key lime pie.” Lily makes a face at the masses.

  Nothing like service with a frown.

  Mom chortles. “We don’t call it The Last Thing They Ate Tour for nothing.”

  That’s true. And that little twisted tour was my mother’s genius idea. After she frightens the pants and wallets off those willing to shell out eighty bucks a person for her Haunted Honey Hollow B&B tour, she sends the tourists my way for the aforementioned deadly dessert run.

  A dark-haired man with a matching mustache, a sly smile, and a pink and blue Hawaiian shirt pops up next to my mother.

  “Can I help you?” The words sail from my lips just as I realize who it is I’m looking at.

  It’s him! Henrick Dayton, my very next stop on the suspect express. How do you like that? And here I thought Lyla Nell and I were going to have to hunt for him all up and down the lake. Seeing that he owns the other rental shop and half the restaurants down here, I figured I’d find him eventually.

  “Just checking out the competition.” His smile widens. “It’s not every day people forgo the desserts in my restaurants because there’s something better out on the lake. I thought I’d come by and check it out myself.“

  Mom takes in a breath as she studies his features. “I know you. You’re Henrick Dayton. Oh, my boyfriend and I have been to every one of your lakefront restaurants. I’ve seen your picture on the wall in every one.”

  “That’s me.” He touches Lyla Nell’s hand. “What a cute daughter you have.”

  “Oh, actually”—Mom blushes ten shades of pomegranate—“well, thank you. We think so ourselves.”

  Good gracious.

  Carlotta and Pretty Boy crop up with both their faces covered with chocolate. In their defense, once those cookies are taken out of the refrigeration unit, they don’t stand a chance in this heat.

  Pretty Boy barks. “It’s him! How Duncan loathed him.” Pretty Boy gives a few snippy little barks in his direction. “But how I loved him. Henrick always had a biscuit for me when he came to visit. He and Duncan came to blows each time they were together. Duncan said that man would be the death of him one day.”

  My mouth falls open, but Lyla Nell squeals and giggles as she does her best to grab Pretty Boy by his little whippet of a fluffy tail, and sure enough, she succeeds.

  Lyla Nell screams at the top of her lungs with delight, wiggling her feet and shoulders as she revels in the victory.

  Mom marvels at the sight—the sight being Lyla Nell since Mom can’t see Pretty Boy to save her life. “Would you look at that? I think she likes you, Henrick.”

  “Oh, she’ll love the men, all right.” Carlotta rocks back on her heels. “She gets that hankering from her mama. I guess it’s never too early to start collecting prospective suitors. I’m no psychic, but my guess is Little Yippy is gonna make a run for the older set.”

  Mom chortles. “That was Lottie for you. All Ken dolls, no Barbies.”

  “Mother,” I hiss. “I had plenty of Barbies.”

  “No, you didn’t. Those belonged to your sisters.” She makes a face at Carlotta. “And boy, did Lainey and Meg have heck to pay if they dared to even look at one of her Ken dolls.”

  “Life imitating art is what that is,” Carlotta crows.

  I glower at her a moment. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.” I look to Henrick and try to think of a way to keep this interrogation from going under—or more to the point, extracting it from the bottom of the sea, or lake as it were.

  Lyla Nell pulls Pretty Boy in and grabs him by the head before gnawing on his mouth.

  “What in the heck?” I crane my neck to get a better look at the carnage and my mother gasps.

  Carlotta gurgles out a laugh. “Looks to me as if she likes men across all species. You’re gonna have your hands full, Lot.”

  Mom moans, “Lottie, she’s got chocolate all over her cheeks.” She pulls out a washcloth and begins cleaning Lyla Nell up. “An errant chocolate chip must have flown right into her mouth. I’d better get back to the cabana. It’s not safe for infants around here.” She takes her cookies and whisks Lyla Nell away.

  One down.

  I take a moment to shoot Carlotta a dirty look just as Henrick steps her way.

  “Why, I believe I saw you the other night at the Evergreen Manor. I hope you don’t mind me saying I thought you looked stunning in that gorgeous gown. It really brought out the angel in your eyes.”

  More like devil.

  My lips twist in a knot. Looks as if Henrick here is smitten with her. She’ll have to stay put after all.

  Pretty Boy barks and howls and lets a few salty words fly from somewhere in the cabana as he demands Carlotta rescue him from Little Yippy’s clutches.

  I wonder why he can’t break free? I bet Lyla Nell’s powers are growing, and she’s figured out how to bind whatever it is she’s after. As her mother, I’m not so sure that’s an attribute I want her to have.

  “I said NOW!” Pretty Boy riots and Carlotta attempts to dart off, but I catch her by the wrist.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” I tell her. “Didn’t you hear the man? He thinks your eyes are angelic.”

  “If I don’t get that boy out of Little Yippy’s clutches, I might be missing out on my evening constitutional.”

  Henrick’s chest shakes as he laughs.

  I force a smile as I look to Henrick. “That was quite a night. Did you know the deceased?”

  “Lottie Dottie here got to dance with him.” Carlotta snickers. “Last dance, last call for love. And knowing Lot, she probably let him get to second base. It’s not a big deal to her anymore now that she walks around with someone gnawing on the girls every night. Those fun bags have lost their f-u-n, if you know what I mean.”

  “Carlotta,�
�� I hiss as I make a face at her. “Duncan was Henrick’s friend.”

  “Now, now”—he raises a brow— “let’s not get carried away.”

  “Didn’t like the guy, did ya?” Carlotta winks, and Henrick looks as if he’s melting like butter. “When Lot Lot here doesn’t care for someone, she spices up one of her sweet treats with a little toxic tincture from her witchy apothecary with a few killer ingredients.”

  “Carlotta.” I shake my head at her. “I do not have an apothecary, nor do I have killer ingredients.”

  “Ah ha!” She points my way. “So you’re not denying the fact you’re a witch.”

  I groan, “On second thought, go find Pretty Boy.”

  “What’s this?” Henrick sounds affronted by my dismissal of his lady love. “Hon, you don’t need no Pretty Boy. What you need is a man’s man.” He hitches his thumb to his chest. “Tell me where you live, and I’ll take you on that constitutional myself.”

  I reach over and step on Carlotta’s toes until she squawks like a chicken.

  We’ve got a live one, and I think Carlotta is the one who is going to have to pull all the deadly details out of him.

  “Oww.” She wastes no time in stepping on my toes as well, and I tick my head in his direction. “Fine, I’ll play your poison pie games.” She growls his way, “I’ll let you trot me around the block a time or two, but first you gotta tell me all you know about—” She squints my way. “What was it we were looking to find out again?”

  I glance his way. “Henrick, why is it that you and Duncan didn’t get along?”

  Enya hinted that Duncan had secrets and that Henrick got caught up in the middle of it.

  Carlotta leans in and wags a chocolate chip cookie his way. “You’d better fess up and fess up good, or no nookie for you.”

  Did she say nookie or cookie?

  Henrick’s mouth falls open, and I’d bet good money he was about to start drooling.

  “All right. I couldn’t stand Duncan Spears,” he grunts. “He was a gnat, always getting in my way. I purchased the land all around that silly shack of his so I could put in a row of beachfront eateries. And an extension of my own rental shop. He was small potatoes. I offered him twice what the land was worth and even offered him a percentage of my first year sales, but he wouldn’t budge. He said it was a classic case of the big boys coming in and strong-arming their way to get what they wanted. He threatened to sue. He said he would tie me up in court until every one of my bank accounts was bleeding money. He could have made off with the lion’s share of my business if he played his cards right, and he knew it. All he wanted to do was inflict pain.” He shrugs. “It’s business. What can I say? It’s a dog-eat-dog world. I made him a generous offer. He never did know when to fold ’em.”