Murder in the Mix Box Set Page 3

  Judge Kremer comes back with a half-eaten banana muffin in his hand. “The rumors would be true.” He glowers over at Judge Shumaker and his wife. “And they passed me over for an old stink bomb with no morals? I think the president and the senate need to rethink their values.” He stalks off into the crowd.

  Everett looks my way and frowns. “Kremer didn’t get it because he’s got a DUI on record. Shumaker might be loose with his wedding vows, but there’s no record of it. They like ’em clean—at least on the surface.”

  Greer moans into him. “I like ’em clean, too. In fact, I think I’ll lick this one clean myself.” She openly glides her tongue over Everett’s cheek, and I bat her away.

  “Do you mind? Everett is off-limits. O-F-F. Now, go do whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing. I’m pretty sure it’s not gnawing on whomever you please.”

  Her cheeks pinch pink as if she actually had an ounce of blood in her. “But—”

  “No buts.” I stomp the ground between us, and she up and vanishes in a cloud of glittery dust. “That will do.” I turn to Everett, only to find his eyes as wide as frying pans.

  “Lemon?”

  I’m quick to wave him off. “It’s Greer Giles.” I wrinkle my nose when I say her name, and he takes in a sharp breath.

  “You mean?”

  I nod. “She’s back, and she’s gunning for you. I mean, not really. I don’t think you’re in any danger.” A breath catches in my throat as the thought becomes a stark reality. “Dear God, we have to encase you in bubble wrap. I’m taking you home right this minute!”

  “Someone is going to die tonight, Lemon.” His dark brows dip down as he gives everyone in the vicinity a menacing look. “Make her tell you who.”

  “I tried that and, believe you me, she’s just as uncooperative in the next life as she was in this one.”

  “I can get her to talk.” He glances around as if trying to locate her. “Tell her to come here. I’m sure I can get just about anything out of her.”

  “Fine.” I crane my neck and spot her near the dessert table along with Judge Kremer and Judge Shumaker, both of whom suddenly look red-faced and angry.

  Hey? Maybe they’re both hitting the jewel-toned drinks a little too hard.

  I’m just about to drag Everett along for the supernatural ride when the tall redhead with the buzz cut comes over. The closer she gets, the more obvious her beauty is. Sure, she’s about my mother’s age, but you can tell she takes all the right measures to make sure Father Time keeps walking in the opposite direction.

  “Judge Baxter.” Her tone is curt and to the point. “Can I have a word with you?”

  I nod up at him. “I’ll be right back.” I take off for Greer Giles’ pastures, and no sooner do I get to the dessert table than she’s gone, right along with Everett’s cohorts in judicial crime.

  “Lottie!” Mom runs up, her forehead wrinkled with distress. “Have you seen Rich? I can’t find him anywhere.”

  “Not since I last saw him with you. Why?”

  “Oh, he’s fighting mad. I made the mistake of making small talk with Judge Shumaker and his wife, and Rich did not approve of that one bit.”

  “Mother! What are you doing with that lunatic? He’s clearly a control freak, and that kind of crazy simply has no place in your life. I never thought I’d say this, but I’d much rather you battle it out with Carlotta over that horny toad, Mr. Rutherford, than have you spend another moment in Rich Dallas’ psychotic arms.”

  Her shoulders do an odd little bounce, and she gets a faraway dreamy look in her eyes. “He does have rather strong arms.”

  “Ugh!” I give an exasperated cry before scouring the vicinity for Greer once again.

  “Speaking of ugh, no offense, but please do not make these banana cake muffins for Lainey’s engagement party next weekend. They’re comfort food, Lottie, and I want Lainey’s party to be nothing but the utmost elegant soiree.”

  “Duly noted.” And I’m much relieved that I won’t have to endure another banana hunt before next weekend.

  “Meg is coming in for the event.” She lifts her hand to her lips, and I suck in a quick breath of excitement.

  “No kidding? I thought you said she’d be here closer to my birthday.” My twenty-seventh birthday is fast approaching in a mere couple of weeks. But to think I’ll get to see my little sister Meg as soon as next weekend makes me want to burst into a million happy little confetti hearts.

  Suffice it to say, it’s been an emotional roller coaster since Noah sliced up my heart, so this surge of unmitigated bliss is much needed.

  Meg has been working the Las Vegas female wrestling circuit as Madge the Badge for the last few years. I haven’t seen her since last May when Lainey, my mother, and I all trotted ourselves to the armpit of hell, otherwise known as Nevada. Don’t get me wrong. I can appreciate a good heat wave as much as the next girl, but Mother Nature had the heat set to toast, and it was not a good look on the three of us.

  I check my phone for the time, and it’s just about eight. “Will you excuse me for a moment? It’s time for me to refresh the desserts.” We part ways, and I head down a dark hall in the back that leads to a shortcut to the kitchen, but just as I’m about to step inside, the sound of escalating voices stops me cold. Sounds like men. Angry men. I peer in, only to find the guest of honor himself going at it with a tall shadowed figure, so I opt to head to the kitchen the long way. No sooner do I refill every dessert platter until it’s brimming with banana cake than I spot Greer Giles and her pristine white dress—save for the gunshot wound—traipse right out the front door, and I have a very bad feeling about this.

  “What in the heck?” I take off like a bullet after her—pardon the deadly pun—threading my way through a jostling crowd, thick with laughter and a tad too much cologne. I finally hit the exit, and the air outside baptizes me with an icy mist, the streets slicked with dew.

  “Over here, dumdum!” Greer shouts from the fountain at the park across the way, and I can’t help but glower at her.

  “I might be a dumdum, but you’re the one who’s dead.” I meant to say it to myself, but my heart is racing, and my adrenaline charging at a thousand miles a minute. No sooner do I land, panting by her side, than I see him.

  Facedown in the overgrown fountain is Judge Sterling Shumaker. And as evidenced by the excessive amounts of sanguine liquid curling around him—he is most certainly dead.

  Chapter 3

  “Oh my goodness!” I pull Greer back from the horrible sight as if protecting her from the grisly nature of the poor judge’s demise.

  “Lottie?” a deep voice shouts my name over the expanse that divides the park from Heritage Hall. “What’s going on? Is it Greer?”

  “Ooh!” Greer enlivens, and her entire extraterrestrial body begins to glow. “He knows about me!” Her dark hair shimmers down her back like a trail of dying stars.

  Everett spots the body tipped over in the fountain and freezes. “My God.” He wastes no time in pulling Sterling Shumaker out of the water and landing him on the lawn. While Everett does his best to revive him, I put a frantic call in to 911. Soon enough, the night is lit up with the fracture of red and blue lights that patrol cars can only bring. The fire department shows up, as does an ambulance, and an entire herd of Ashford County Sheriff’s Department fills the scene. A crowd of elegantly dressed people hemorrhage out of Heritage Hall, and the entire vicinity is strewn with chaos.

  The wind howls as it presses through the city, and it feels as if it’s trying to punish us all for the gruesome crime committed here tonight.

  My mother latches onto me. “Lottie! What’s happened?” She seals her hand over her mouth once she sees it. “Please tell me you didn’t find another one.”

  My mouth opens and closes as I try to spot Everett. Last I saw he was speaking with Jack Turner, Keelie’s father, who just happens to be the captain of the sheriff’s department. I’m pretty sure I’ll be the next one Jack wants to speak with. I�
��m afraid I’m all too familiar with the drill.

  Mom moans, “Tell me that’s not Sterling.” Her hands clamp around her throat. “My God, you don’t think Rich did it, do you?”

  “Rich?” My mind bounces, trying to place the name. I’ll be the first to admit I’m in a bit of shock. This might not be the first dead body I’ve stumbled upon, but it doesn’t mean I’m getting used to it. Rich Dallas! “Mother, you don’t think that psychotic soon-to-be ex did this, do you?”

  “I suppose anything is possible. Rich has been known to—”

  “Has been known to what?” a rough voice bellows from behind, and my mother jerks to find the not-so-great love of her life stalking from behind.

  “There you are.” She pats him down as if looking for the murder weapon. “And you’re clean and dry. Oh, thank heavens. You have no idea about the dark and dirty places my mind just strayed.”

  He gives a gritty laugh as he pulls her in tight. “If your mind is taking a turn for the dirty, I suggest we hightail it out of here. I don’t like the looks of whatever is going on over there.” He glares at the sheriffs as they pull a neon yellow string of caution tape across the fountain as if it offended him.

  “You’re right.” Mom gives me a quick kiss to the cheek. “Let us take you home, Lottie. I can’t be here with the firefighters and the sheriffs all gathering around like this.”

  “No, actually. I think I need to stick around for a bit.” I spot an all too familiar dark frame heading this way, and everything in me seizes. I’ve been artfully avoiding Noah since the incendiary incident at the bakery, and I have a feeling there will be no artful way out of our next untimely meeting.

  Mom moans, “Have it your way, but please make sure that kind judge of yours takes you home, Lottie. I don’t like the idea of my baby girl out in the night with some crazed lunatic running loose.” She offers me a quick squeeze of an embrace before Rich Dallas pulls her close and stalks off with her as if she were his most prized possession—possession being the operative word.

  Everett jogs up just as they leave. His jacket is long gone, his shirt soaking wet and stained pink from Judge Shumaker’s blood. Before he can say a word, Noah lands in front of us.

  Noah’s muscular frame looks large and menacing in the night shadows. His brows form a single line as he looks to Everett with discontent before he softens and looks to me.

  “Lottie, I need to speak with you.” Noah’s dimples press in. “Official business.”

  “I didn’t do this. I was following”—Greer makes a face behind Noah as if she knows she’s got me—“I was following a noise, and I found him in the fountain.”

  Noah winces at his old stepbrother. Noah and Everett were once related by marriage, and during their brief tenure as stepbrothers they had a falling-out about a girl Noah supposedly stole from Everett. The fallout was ugly and rather permanent at that.

  “Everett, you’re soaking wet. Captain Turner let me know you were the one that plucked him out of the fountain. Where were you just before you came out this way? Were the two of you together?”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  Noah leans in toward Everett. “Was anyone with you? Were you in a crowd?

  Everett gives a slow blink. “Are you accusing me of killing Judge Shumaker?”

  “He didn’t do it!” Greer scoffs as she socks Noah right through his arm, a disconcerting sight. But I’m thankful she didn’t employ her ability to affect the material world.

  Everett takes a bold step forward. “Because if you are, your investigation is already off to a terrible start. I didn’t do this and neither did she. Why don’t you go and question some of the guests that were here tonight? I believe his wife is still on the premises. And if you have anything at all you need to ask Lemon, I suggest you have Detective Fairbanks do the honors. Lemon doesn’t need to speak with you until she’s good and ready.”

  Noah glowers at Everett. I’m pretty sure if the place weren’t crawling with every authoritative figure in Ashford County, he would try his best to bash him through a tree.

  “According to Captain Turner, you don’t have an alibi, and you don’t have anyone to back up your story. I’m giving you an opportunity to rectify that or else I’ll need to take your clothes in. They have Shumaker’s DNA on them.”

  “Because I yanked him from the fountain,” Everett roars, and a small group of partygoers turn to look this way. “The guy has at least a dozen stab wounds, and they were all bleeding out at the time.”

  Detective Ivy Long Legs Fairbanks strides on over with her auburn hair pulled back into a bun, her svelte frame accentuated with a pair of riding pants and a fitted pea coat. She looks ready for a day in the English countryside, and how I wish that were where she was. She’s stunning in an obvious way, and sadly that makes me dislike her all the more. I wonder what she thinks of Noah’s wife popping back into the picture? I bet she’s thrilled that we’re no longer together. Just thinking about it pains me. Ivy Fairbanks is Noah’s partner in homicide solving crime. They work as a team at the Ashford Sheriff’s Department.

  “Carlotta.” She bats her lashes while looking to the sky. “Captain Turner filled me in on the situation.” She looks to Everett. “Judge Baxter, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to come with me.”

  Everett glowers at the two of them a moment. “Lemon, call me if you need to.”

  They take off, and it’s just Noah and me. The air feels stiffer, and despite the fact it’s near freezing temperatures, a heat wave rides through me.

  The evergreens seem to crowd around us and offer up shelter from the wind whistling through, and Greer has thankfully trotted off with Everett. Greer, whom I see now was Judge Shumaker’s favorite pet. Disgusting. My guess is they hit it off through that escort service she worked through, the Elite Entourage. It looks like Maureen Taylor wasn’t the only one he was getting some side action from, although I don’t really know the timeline of his affairs nor do I want to.

  Noah and I are far enough from both the crowds and the body—poor Judge Shumaker, stabbed to death. It’s such a violent way to go, it’s downright terrifying.

  Noah gently cradles my arm with his hand, and I jerk away as if it were a reflex.

  “Sorry.” He swallows so hard his Adam’s apple rises and falls. “Lottie, I’m still me. I promise, nothing has changed.”

  “You’re still you? If you’re using you as a replacement word for imposter, then you’re spot-on. Because that’s who you are to me. The Noah I knew wasn’t married. At least that’s what you wanted me to believe.” I take a daring step toward him. “And if you were in the process of getting a divorce, you could have told me.”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that. By the time I went to file, I had already lived outside of Ohio for six months—it has something to do with residency requirements. Basically, I found myself in a legal bind and was in the process of trying to fix it.”

  “Yeah? Well, your wife stated plainly that she was interested in repairing your family.” My voice breaks as I say it. The thought of Noah having a family with anyone but me doesn’t sit well.

  “I’m not. We’re not. I have Toby—my Golden Retriever—at my place and Britney takes care of him during the day. I want you to meet him. I know you’d fall in love with him.” That last bit comes out quiet, tired, as if he already knows I’ll refuse his offer.

  “I don’t know. I’m still grieving a Golden Retriever of my own.” It’s true. Dutch was Tanner Redwood’s trusty dog, and even when Tanner’s killer was revealed, Dutch stayed on with me for months. I ended up so emotionally attached that I claimed him as my own and garnered myself a world of bad luck. It turns out, this—thing I am, transmundane, further reduced to supersensual—means I see the dead, either human or creature, and they often come back to signify some dark harbinger for their previous owner. Apparently, I’m not supposed to get too attached or really, really bad things happen, like your boyfriend suddenly winds up married to someone else
.

  Noah’s brows furrow. “That’s fine. I thought he might like Pancake and Waffles, though. He’s good with cats.”

  Pancake and Waffles are my sweet Himalayans. Both were gifted to me by Nell Sawyer, the only person in the world who knew about my gift up until Everett. Pancake was mine right from the get-go, but when Nell passed away, she bequeathed Waffles to me as well.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be scheduling play dates for our pets when we’re not even dating anymore. You do realize it’s frowned upon to date around on your wife.” I couldn’t help it. He had it coming.

  His lips purse a moment, those very lips I’ve tasted a hundred times. Noah and I took our relationship to the next level last Christmas and, boy, am I ever regretting it.

  My stomach sours as if calling me out on the lie.

  Noah steps in close until his cologne permeates me like a cloud, and I feel the warmth of his body as sure as if he were holding me. Every last cell in my body aches to wrap my arms around him.

  “Lottie, I have to fix this with you.” The muscles in his jaw tense and pop. His chest heaves as if he were struggling to maintain his emotions. Noah is unfairly handsome. I shouldn’t be surprised that another woman is clawing to be a part of his life and I’m not. I’m just shocked to see the woman in question is legally bound to him.

  “You can’t fix this.” My own chest bucks with emotion. “You had an opportunity when we met, and you cleverly chose to evade it.”

  “That’s not true. Hell, maybe it is. I’m sorry. I can’t apologize enough.” His eyes flash with the glint of tears, and I force myself to look away.

  “If you’re through with me, Detective Fox, I would like to go home.”

  Noah steps in front of me and bows in to carefully capture my gaze. His serious eyes hook to mine. “You and I both know you’ll be investigating this murder in order to get Everett off the hook.”

  My mouth opens as if to protest, but I swiftly close it. He’s got me there.