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Killer Cupcakes (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 14) Page 3
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“Thirteen?” Everett tips his ear this way as if he didn’t hear right.
“That is correct.” His tiny pink nose turns toward Carlotta. “Thirteen is the name my master gave me.”
I lean in hard, a breath hitching in my throat. “What’s your master’s name?”
“I would love to tell you.” His voice grows faint as he dissipates to nothing.
Carlotta bounces out of her seat, looking every bit like an older version of me. “Now look what you did. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to be nosy?”
I can’t help but roll my eyes.
Mayor Nash pops up from behind holding out a cupcake toward Carlotta.
“Lottie, Judge Baxter.” He tips his head forward, and his werewolf-inspired ears nearly fall off. He’s covered with fur from head to toe, and he’s got long, claw-like contraptions over his hands. “Quite a mess out there, but I managed to salvage what I could.” He pats his belly as he laughs.
“Well, thank you,” I say, glancing out the window at the cupcake-covered street. “I have a feeling I can use all the help I can get.”
A stream of tourists bustles out the front door, and I spot Pastor Gaines wiggling his way inside like a salmon swimming upstream. He’s donned a black leather jacket and a baby blue button-down shirt underneath and looks as if he’s dressed to impress my mother. I bet someone pelted him good with my cupcakes for it to sponsor a wardrobe change. Although, I don’t see why he’d wear that malfeasance of a sweater to begin with. Being pelted with cupcakes or not, the sweater deserved the incinerator.
I head on over and block his path. “You have a lot of nerve, you know that?”
His smile widens, but his brows dip as if he were confused by my comment.
“What may I help you with, dear?”
“Oh, please. You’ve done enough. And since my mother didn’t kill you, I might just have to do it myself!”
A hush falls over the café for a solid second before the conversations roar back to life.
“Excuse me.” He nods his way past me as he heads into the Honey Pot.
Everett comes over and blows out a deep breath. “Why don’t we lock ourselves in your office and forget about all the chaos out here?” His thumb glides over my lips like a dark promise.
“Believe you me, I’d take you up on it if I didn’t know my mother and Pastor Gaines defiled it.” My fingers slap over my lips a moment. “Oh my goodness, Everett. I’m a married woman! And I happen to be married to someone else entirely.” A hard groan comes from me. “I can’t sleep with you anymore.”
“Noah,” he growls his name out like a threat—and I’m convinced it’s a real one.
And as if on cue, Noah himself burrows through the crowd.
“Where is she?” His eyes are wild, and he looks disheveled and frustrated. The front of his shirt is covered with purple fingerprints—I’m guessing Cormack’s.
“I don’t know.” I hike up on my tiptoes and crane my neck as I look around. “How did you possibly lose her?” Believe me, he’s tried, and it’s proved impossible for months.
Everett grunts, “He didn’t lose her. He escaped.”
“That makes more sense,” I say just as Everett gives Noah a hard shove to the chest.
“And I finally caught onto your matrimonial shenanigans,” Everett roars. “You did this because you knew she wouldn’t sleep with me as long as she was legally bolted to your side.”
Noah’s dimples press in. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking—” He pauses midflight as his mouth rounds out into a perfect O and he looks my way. “So now she’s cut you off? The tables have turned, huh, buddy?” An easy grin glides across his face.
It’s true. Everett cut me off a few weeks back so that I could gain some closure once and for all with Noah. I’m pretty sure our jaunt to the proverbial altar was a turn in the wrong direction as far as closure goes.
“Don’t you smile at her like that!” The sound of a screaming female, extricating the words like a war cry, comes from behind, and I turn to find Cormack storming her way over as she makes her way through the kitchen.
“What are you doing back there?” I holler as I head that way myself and note the entire kitchen island is brimming with unfrosted cupcakes.
My God, what am I thinking?
I have a bakery to run. I certainly don’t have time for Cormack Featherhead’s shenanigans.
“Cormack, get out there and make sure Everett and Noah don’t kill each other.” I think on it for a moment. “They’re fighting over you.” That stroke to her ego should assure she interjects herself between them for a good long hour.
She sucks in a quick breath. “I knew it. Essex wants me back, too. Of course, he does. That boy has always loved me. But don’t you worry, Loki. The Big Boss and I are just going through a rough patch. Cold feet is a very real thing.”
Big Boss. I shudder at the nickname Cormack has for Noah. I’ve never understood it since bossing her around is the last thing Noah wants to do. In fact, he doesn’t want anything to do with her at all. Cormack is basically a stalker, and I think I’ve just sicced her on poor Everett, too.
“Cold feet? You keep believing that,” I mutter as I put on an apron, pick up a piping bag, and get straight to work. She takes off in a furor, her high heels leaving a muddy trail in their wake, and I groan. “No, no.” The last thing I need is someone from the health department shutting me down on the busiest day of the year. “Lily?” I call out, but she’s too swamped with customers to hear me. The rest of the kitchen staff has migrated right back where they belong—to the Honey Pot Diner—and left me to my own devices.
I land the piping bag where I found it and head to the back for a mop, but it’s not in the janitorial supply closet. It’s still outside drying off from its initial use this morning. I head out to the alley behind the shop and steal a moment to take in the crisp autumn breeze. There’s an old sweetgum tree across the way, and tucked in its branches I spot that spectral black cat, Thirteen, glowing as if it had an entire constellation of stars trapped in its fur.
A smile comes to me.
That’s the way the dead always look, and I do love their ethereal glow. I traipse across the way to have a private chat with the cute little beast, only to trip over something solid, yet rather soft at the very same time. I land on all fours and find myself nearly eye to eye with an all too familiar face—Pastor Gaines.
But this time he’s not offering that eerie smile. Instead, his mouth is smeared with orange frosting, and one of my cupcakes is still clutched in his hand.
My mother won’t have to worry about him bothering her anymore.
Pastor Gaines is dead.
Chapter 3
A violent scream evicts from me, sharp and biting as it claws its way from my throat.
Noah and Everett come racing out the back door shouting expletives at one another and at the horrid situation, but I can’t pull my eyes off Pastor Gaines as he stares blankly at the sky. His leather jacket lies open, and a crimson stain has drenched the front of his dress shirt.
“Lottie!” Noah lifts me to my feet and wraps his arms around me before sending me sailing into Everett. Noah crouches down and checks for a pulse, shaking his head up at us before confirming the worst.
Everett warms my arms with his hands. “What happened, Lemon? What did you see?”
“I didn’t see anything. I was headed to the tree, and I didn’t even see the body.” My hand clamps over my mouth. “Oh my God, Pastor Gaines is the body,” I hiss as if the truth just hit me. “This is terrible! The entire town is going to mourn his loss. My mother is going to lose her mind with grief.” Or relief—it’s a toss-up right about now.
Everett inches back. “If I remember correctly, she was threatening to kill him just over an hour ago. And so were you.”
“Oh dear.” I bury my face in Everett’s chest for a moment. “Wait.” I glance back toward the tree as Noah taps into his phone. I’m sure he’s noti
fying his partner, Detective Ivy Fairbanks, a leggy redhead who doesn’t think much of me, but I don’t think much of her so we’re good. “I did see something. I saw that cat in the tree. That’s why I came all the way out here. And now it’s up and disappeared.”
Everett glances to the tree himself. “You saw the cat again?”
“What?” Noah steps over, incensed. “You knew she saw another one of those ghostly visitors and you let her out of your sight?” His voice hikes up an octave as he stiffens with rage. “This is exactly why she should be with me. You are irresponsible with her.”
“He’s not irresponsible with me.” I’d swat him, but he’s a good two feet away. “I’m not a child, Noah. Nobody needs to be responsible for me but me.”
“No, he’s right.” Everett exhales deeply as if acquiescing to defeat. “I shouldn’t have left your side.”
“FYI, I left your side. And now you’re both sounding equally condescending. Is that what you want, Everett? To be on equal footing with him?”
Before he can answer, the entire area floods with sheriff’s deputies, along with Detective Ivy Fairbanks herself.
Ivy tosses her long red hair effortlessly as she struts our way in a pair of four-inch stilettos. She has cheekbones that could reach the moon and a scowl that could burn a hole right through any human soul.
“Lottie, Everett.” She lifts a brow at him as if to ask an obvious question—one I’m certain that has to do with me. “Noah, fill me in.”
“Lottie was just coming out here to…uh, look at the tree.”
“Get a mop,” I add. “Cormack trailed dirt into the kitchen and I needed to clean it before the health department came out. I mean, not that I was expecting them. But anyway, I came out and it was so nice, I thought I’d look at the tree.” I shrug up at Noah.
Ivy squints my way. “Back up for a moment. What was Cormack doing in your kitchen? Does she work for you?”
“No.”
“Did you invite her back there for a tour?”
“We’re not friends.” I’m quick to make that clear. “I wouldn’t offer her a tour of my—”
Noah lifts a hand. “We get the picture. Cormack was probably looking for me.”
Ivy’s penciled in brows arch high into her forehead giving her that villain appeal that comes so effortlessly to her. “In the alley? Because Lottie said her feet were muddy. And look.” She points over where Pastor Gaines still lies with his body sprawled out for all to see. “There’s mud to the right of him. It’s the first thing I noticed when I came out here. A girl in heels notices these things.”
I suck in a quick breath at the implication.
“Look”—I say with a twinge of regret for what’s about to come out of my mouth—“Cormack is a lot of things, but she’s not a killer. I don’t even think she had a connection to Pastor Gaines.”
Ivy sniffs the air between us. “Let’s leave that to the professionals to determine.” She takes off toward the chaos surrounding Pastor Gaines just as the deputies roll out the caution tape.
“Cormack couldn’t have done this.” I shake my head at Noah as if it were my sole duty to defend her.
“I don’t think so either.” He cranes his neck toward the entry. “But if she was out here, she might have seen something. I’d better go speak with her. And I’ll have all the security cameras that line the front examined to see if they can offer any clues. We’ve got one back here, but it looks as if that tree grew right over it.”
Everett ticks his head toward the bakery. “Come on, Lemon. Let’s get back in there and leave this mess to the pros.” His brows bounce as if he found the comment comical himself.
We head back in through the back door, and both Keelie and Lily are there to greet us.
“Is it true?” Keelie’s big blue eyes bulge. “Did you find another body?”
Lily jumps in close. “What were they eating? My God, Lottie, spill it so I can get to ordering more ingredients, stat!”
I groan. It’s true. My mother happens to own and run a happily haunted bed and breakfast. And being the savvy businesswoman she is, she’s set up tours of the haunted facility. Once she’s through bilking tourists for her pricey poltergeist show-and-tell session, she ships them all my way for what she’s dubbed The Last Thing They Ate Tour. In the last year alone, whatever the poor deceased was found noshing on at the time of their demise has become an instant morbid sensation.
Lily snaps her fingers. “It was a cupcake, wasn’t it?”
My mouth opens, but before I can confirm it, Lily gives a victorious cry as she heads for the office.
“Geez, Lottie,” she balks as she pokes her head inside. “You really need to keep this place a little more organized.”
“Keelie, have you seen Cormack?” I ask as we plow past her on our way to the front of the bakery.
Keelie catches up quickly. “Yes, she’s out front sitting in Alex’s lap, mumbling something about making Noah insane with jealousy.”
“Dear God,” I moan as we head to the café, and, sure enough, there she is planted in Alex’s lap and the poor guy looks as if he has no idea how to evict her.
“Cormack”—Noah is the first to call her name—“can I have a word with you?”
An impish grin floats on her lips as she gives Alex’s cheek a quick pinch.
“Works like a charm.” She bounces to her feet. “All right, Big Boss. I forgive you for a momentary indiscretion. Essex”—she points his way—“I want this marital mess mopped up by a top-notch family practice lawyer. See to it that Lydia here doesn’t get one red cent of my future husband’s estate.” She sighs deeply as she takes Noah by the hand. “Let’s go to your place. It’s time to kiss and make up.”
“Hardly,” I say. “Cormack, you tracked mud through my kitchen. What were you doing in the alley behind the bakery?”
If Noah won’t get down to brass tacks, I will.
Cormack’s brows pinch together. “If you must know, I was seeking sage counsel from a man of the cloth.”
I shoot a look to Noah. “That’s Pastor Gaines she’s talking about.”
Everett leans in. “Who else was out there with the two of you?”
Cormack’s lids hood low as she glowers my way. “Her mother.”
“What?” The breath gets knocked out of me as efficiently as a sucker punch.
Mom and Carlotta head this way, both with concerned looks on their faces.
“Lottie”—Mom accosts me first—“what in heaven’s name are all these deputies doing crawling all over?”
I bite down on my lower lip and Mom gasps.
“No,” she says it sharp and demanding. “Lottie Kenzie Lemon, do not tell me you found another one.”
My mouth opens, but only a croaking sound emits from my throat.
Noah leans in. “I’m sorry, Miranda. Can I speak with you outside for a moment? I’m afraid I have some news to share and I’ll have to ask you a few questions.”
Mom is quick to follow him, and Cormack raises her hand as she trots along.
“What about me?” Cormack cries. “Does this have anything to do with the fact I tracked mud through Lonnie’s kitchen?”
Everett and I head outside with them, and I wrap an arm around my mother as she shivers in the breeze.
“What is it, Detective Fox?” Mom’s voice trembles. “Don’t keep me in suspense. I don’t think I can take it.”
“It’s Pastor Gaines”—Noah nods as if she might be able to fill in the blanks herself—“I’m sorry, Miranda, but he’s no longer with us.”
Mom gives a few quick blinks. “You mean he went back to Nevada?”
“No, Mom.” I pull her in close. “Not Nevada—somewhere a little farther than that. He’s gone—as in, he passed away.”
Noah nods, affirming this grim fact. “Someone shot him in the alley behind the bakery. I’m sorry I’m going to have to ask you this, but do you have access to any firearms?”
“What?” Her face bleaches wh
ite, as does Cormack’s. “No, I don’t.”
Cormack begins to hyperventilate. “There’s been a murder!” she shrieks. “I was in that alley right along with him. Oh dear God, I could have been killed! It would have been the end of me. Oh, Noah, I feel faint.” She falls limp over his chest and he struggles to hold her upright.
Alex comes out and jogs over. “What’s going on? People are starting to talk.”
“There’s been a murder.” Everett is quick to fill in his old stepbrother. “In fact, if you don’t mind, could you take Cormack home? I think Noah has his work cut out for him for the night.”
Noah sighs. “I was about to ask the same thing.” He’s quick to tilt Cormack his way, and soon enough Alex has muscled her into his arms as she does her best impression of a corpse.
She tilts her head up. “I’ll be at your place, Big Boss. I’ll warm the bed for you.”
Noah shoots his brother a look and shakes his head. But I have a feeling not even Alex and his blow-up muscles will be able to stop Cormack from getting what she wants.
My sisters, Lainey and Meg, head on out.
“Lottie!” Lainey’s stern tone lets me know she’s about to let into me. Suffice it to say, Lainey is not amused by the body count I’ve amassed these last few months. “I don’t even need to ask, do I?”
Mom shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.”
Meg belts out a laugh with little regard for the dead. “Who’d you off this time, Lot? The butcher? The candlestick maker? I have a feeling the baker is pretty safe.”
“Not funny,” Mom says as she pulls a wad of tissues out of her purse and the butt of a small black gun stares back at us.
“Mother,” I say as I pull her purse forward and pluck it out just enough to reveal it’s an all too familiar gun—mine. “What are you doing with Ethel?”
“Don’t touch it,” Noah pants as he takes the purse from me. “Miranda, I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the sheriff’s department for questioning.”
And just like that, Miranda Lemon is at the top of the suspect list.