Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Page 5

  Before I can contest it, Meg and Keelie head this way from the Honey Pot.

  Keelie, my bubbly blonde bestie, is the manager next door. And Meg, my somewhat brooding sister, has helped her maintain it while Keelie has been taking a little extra time away to be with her new baby.

  Keelie married my old high school boyfriend Otis Bear Fisher. He basically cheated on me throughout our entire relationship and had me crying myself to sleep each and every night. But he’s since cleaned up his cheating ways, and now Keelie and he have started a family. Bear is actually the contractor I hired to work on my grandma Nell’s house—one of the homes she left in my care. I’ve come to regret the fact I’ve hired him more than a handful of times. It’s taking so long to rebuild, it makes me wonder if he’s planting the wood from seedlings and waiting for it all to grow.

  “What’s up?” Keelie slings an arm around my shoulders.

  Meg grunts as she heads for the bakery shelf. “We just came to steal a few cookies,” she says while snapping up a handful of gingerbread men.

  Lily takes one for herself. “I was just telling Lottie she’s gone too far with this whole planting a dessert on a dead body thing.”

  Meg barks out a laugh. “Please. Lottie and our mother are in cahoots. Mom’s got the world convinced her B&B is haunted, and because of that she’s got a group of gullible hippies coming through each afternoon for those haunted Honey Hollow tours.”

  Lily nods. “And once she’s through with that, she sends an entire busload of hungry hippies our way for The Last Thing They Ate Tour.” She says that last part in air quotes.

  It’s true. And don’t think for a minute that my mother is giving those tours for free. Nope. She’s charging eighty bucks a pop and raking in money hand over haunted fist. Not that I’m doing so bad once those hungry hippies head my way. I’m sort of raking in the dough, too, and sadly it’s on the backs of those poor homicide victims.

  I frown over at Lily. “I have no idea why all of those bodies had one of my desserts nearby. But as fate would have it, people do seem to want to eat whatever the murder de jure is. And, this month, it just so happens to be my eggnog trifle.” I pluck a couple out of the refrigerator shelving unit and both Meg and Keelie coo at how adorable they are.

  “Mason jars,” I say. “It was the only way I could think to sell them individually.”

  “And look.” Lily pulls out a couple of miniature versions. “Tiny Mason jars for those who just want a few bites. Don’t worry, Lottie. I’ve already tripled our orders for all the ingredients—and picked enough Mason jars, big and little, for you to poison the entire state of Vermont with.”

  “Gloria Abner wasn’t poisoned,” I point out. “She was shot in the back.”

  Keelie shudders. “By your future mother-in-law, Lottie.”

  “We don’t know that,” I say. “Besides, I’m married to Everett, remember?” I hold out the emerald-shaped diamond on my left hand, and all three of them scoff.

  “Please, Lot”—Meg swipes up a Mason jar filled with my trifle and a spoon—“we all know you’re going to be married to Noah again someday. It’s simple Lottie Lemon relationship math. You can’t make up your mind, so you keep switching back and forth.”

  “Okay, so some of that is true,” I’m quick to concede. “But I’m staying put where I am. Everett and I are really giving this a shot.”

  Keelie moans through a bite of my eggnog trifle. “But what if the baby belongs to Noah?”

  “Everett and I will raise it right alongside Noah. Just like Noah is essentially helping raise Evie. We’re all just one big happy family.”

  The three of them burst out laughing.

  “What?” I ask as I look to the cackling trio, bewildered.

  Meg swipes one of the mini eggnog trifles up as well. “You just basically admitted to what we all suspected. You should look into ordering one of those extra-large heart-shaped beds.”

  I growl at the three of them and Meg heads back to the Honey Pot laughing.

  Keelie moans through another bite of her trifle. “What’s your secret, Lottie? This is phenomenal.”

  “Instead of angel food cake, I make them with gingerbread cake. It adds that extra layer of Christmas cheer.”

  An entire slew of new customers head through the door, and along with them are Carlotta and Evie.

  “Happy moving day!” Evie sings.

  It’s true. Noah and Everett are currently hauling all of the furniture Evie and I spent the last month ordering. Of course, Everett had his say in it, too.

  Evie wanted to go full modern, clean lines, no color, and I reeled her back just enough to make it cozy.

  Both Noah and Everett shooed me away from the scene this morning after I was spotted picking up a heavy box. They suggested I head to the day spa at the Evergreen Manor, but I opted for something far more delicious: working at the bakery.

  Keelie gasps. “Oh my goodness, that’s right! You’re getting your own place again. I bet Noah is really bummed.”

  Evie nods. “You should have seen him after you left, Mom. He was moping around and kicking things, mostly the boxes that belong to Dad. He said it wasn’t fair that you and Dad get to move in together because he never got to do that with you.”

  That might be true, but oddly enough, Noah and I were married for a short spate of time ourselves. Unfortunately, he happened to be in the hospital for almost the entirety of our short-lived union.

  Carlotta nods as she offloads a giant tote bag onto the table. I can see her green minivan parked outside the bakery with a giant magnetic sticker slapped to the side of it that reads A Whole Lotta Touchin’ Massages. Inquire within. You won’t need a loan for a few cheap moans.

  I can’t help but roll my eyes. A few men have already knocked on the windshield of her van, but I don’t dare tell Carlotta she’s losing some of her dicey customers. Needless to say, I don’t approve of that particular business venture.

  “Evie Stevie is right,” Carlotta says as I set a couple of eggnog trifles in front of each of them with a spoon spiked through it. “In fact, Foxy got feisty and blamed Everett for stealing his life, his wife. And then Mr. Sexy pointed to his busted arm and said the next time Foxy found himself in a burning building, he was going to enjoy a cold drink and watch the thing burn.”

  Evie nods as she digs her spoon around in the trifle. “And then Uncle Noah said that baby in your belly is his, and that no matter what Dad did, he couldn’t break the bond between the two of you.”

  Carlotta shrugs. “And then Sexy said he was going to break something right then, and the two of them came to blows.”

  “Are they still alive?” I ask, still unsure which way my emotions are about to run with this one.

  “As far as I know,” Carlotta says as she unzips her bag. “I told ’em to keep their mitts off my painting once it’s delivered. I can’t wait until it gets to the house. I think we should put it right above the fireplace.”

  “No way.” Just the thought sends a hard roll of nausea through me as I grip my belly and moan.

  “I got this,” Keelie shouts as she jumps behind the counter and shoves a fried pickle into my hand.

  “Thank you.” I sigh as I take a crunchy bite. “Carlotta, that painting is creepy. I’m shocked you wanted it. And I don’t even want to know how much it set you back.”

  Evie nods. “She spent three thousand dollars on that Van Gauche.”

  Keelie and I suck in a quick breath.

  “Three thousand American dollars? Are you insane?” I shriek her way. “Never mind. I know the answer. Boy, someone out there is getting the last laugh. That painting isn’t haunted, Carlotta. You and I can both attest to that.”

  Neither Evie nor Keelie has any idea about our transmundane status, and I plan on keeping it like that for a long time to come. Evie has enough to deal with, especially now that she’ll be living under the same roof as Carlotta—not that she hasn’t been. It’s just that things are about to get a little m
ore official.

  Evie was living with Everett next door, and now we’ll all be one big family. I’m pretty sure there’s an adjective that belongs before the word family, I’m just not all that sure what it is. And it may not be all that nice.

  Keelie shakes her head. “I don’t know, Aunt Carlotta. That’s a lot of dough to blow right before Christmas. Unless, of course, you bought it as a gift for someone.”

  Carlotta tips her head and gives me the side-eye. “Why, I bought it for my Lot Lot. Surprise! It’s the housewarming gift you didn’t know you needed.”

  “And that I’m sure I don’t want.” I shoot her a look. “Keelie is right. You should have spent your money on something else.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Lottie Dottie,” Carlotta says, plucking those pricey jar candles she’s peddling out of her tote bag. “Between the greasy palm biz and my new kinky candle gig, I’m going to be raking it in this holiday season. And I didn’t have to shoot a woman in the back to do it.” She points an accusing finger my way, and I hear Lily snicker from the register.

  Keelie chuckles. “She’s got you there, Lot.”

  Evie peers into Carlotta’s oversized tote bag. “Is Kringle in here?”

  “Who’s Kringle?” I ask while noshing on the rest of my pickle.

  “It’s Carlotta’s emotional support mouse,” Evie says while poking around in Carlotta’s bag. “Each month she finds another invisible pet from the realm of the dead to keep her company, and this month she’s chosen a cute little brown mouse by the name of Kringle. He’s a boy, and he likes to eat your trifle. Oh, and he’s not sure about Pancake or Waffles just yet, but he’s really digging Toby.”

  “Carlotta,” I growl out her name. I’m guessing Kringle is the cute little ghost who has come back to help solve Gloria’s murder. And I discovered a few months back, thanks to my transmundane friend, Bizzy Baker, that my sweet cats, a couple of Himalayan brothers, Pancake and Waffles, can indeed sense the animals that come back to help me. I’m guessing they’re rather amused by the mouse.

  Toby, Noah’s golden retriever, pretty much gets along with any and everything, so it’s no surprise that Kringle has taken to him.

  Evie’s phone bleats, and she gives an enthusiastic cry at whatever just popped up on her screen.

  “Yes!” She shakes a fist in the air. “Guess what? A couple of kids from school and I are headed to the Maple Meadows Lodge for a ski trip weekend. Don’t worry, Mom. I’m rooming with Dash. Conner and Kyle are staying in a separate part of the lodge. But there’s going to be, like, sixteen of us, so I’m sure we’ll all be sleeping in each other’s rooms anyway.”

  Dash is Evie’s best friend. And Conner and Kyle are Evie’s boyfriends.

  Yeah. Everett and I aren’t that thrilled.

  Carlotta nods. “That’s the best way to do it. That way the party never stops.”

  “The party is never going to start,” I say. “You’re not going,” I tell her.

  Evie’s blue eyes light up with rage. “But it’s at the lodge. That place you bought with Dad and Uncle Noah. I already told everyone we could stay in the rooms for free. Mom, I have to ski, it’s in my blood. You can take away my right to a private bathroom, but you can’t take away my right to glide down a snow-covered mountain while blaring my favorite playlist through the speaker system built into my helmet. Did you hear the word helmet? I plan on using protection.”

  Carlotta shakes her head. “That’s not the kind of protection she’s concerned about you using, hon.”

  Carlotta is right.

  “Ugh!” Evie howls at the top of her lungs. “I just hate that you and Dad don’t trust me. Just because I’m dating two guys doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with both of them.”

  “You had better not be sleeping with either of them,” I shoot back.

  “I can’t believe you think the worst of me.” She taps furiously into her phone. “Dash is outside. We’re going shopping. Ironically, I’m looking for something for you. I’ll be home in time for dinner. Try not to stalk me.” She snatches the gingerbread cookie from Carlotta’s hand before darting out of the bakery.

  “Evie!” I shout, but it’s too late.

  Carlotta chuckles. “Don’t worry, Lot Lot. I’ll handle the sex ed portion of her childhood. She needs a good influence to keep her in line.”

  Keelie bursts out laughing. “Good one, Aunt Carlotta.”

  “I’m not laughing,” I grit it through my teeth. “Do not breathe a word about anything coital to my dear daughter. I’ll be the one handling the sex ed portion of her childhood.”

  Keelie takes the last bite of her trifle. “I’m not sure that’s any better, Lot.” She shrugs out a silent apology.

  Carlotta finishes cluttering up my counter with those tiny fire hazards she’s hauling around.

  “And keep your kinky candles to yourself, too,” I say. “The last thing I need is to burn down the bakery.”

  Carlotta ticks her head to the side. “With that Hearst curse still hovering around you like a dark cloud, it’s bound to happen sooner or later. I figure why not get a few candle sales in while I can.”

  The Hearst family once lived in Honey Hollow and basically amassed a ton of wealth, and a ton of attention from the Grim Reaper at the very same time. One of the Hearst family members was murdered in town this past October. And just before that, the ghost of my grandmother Nell came back to warn me not to get involved. She said it had the power to negatively affect not only my own life, but that of my baby’s as well. And, as fate and my poor judgment would have it, I stepped right in the middle of that cursed investigation. I brought down the killer, too. And once I thought everything was wrapped up in a neat little bow, my house and Everett’s burned to the ground that very night.

  I’ll admit, I’ve been looking over my shoulder ever since.

  “I don’t believe in curses,” I say just as one of the gingerbread houses on the counter collapses in on itself.

  Both Carlotta and Keelie let out a little scream.

  “Oh stop,” I say, breaking off a piece of it and taking a bite. “It’s simply a case of not enough frosting to hold it together.” Although, I’ll admit I made sure to glue that sucker together with enough royal icing to withstand a hurricane.

  Carlotta sighs. “Sorry to say it, kid, but it looks as if curses believe in you.”

  Keelie leans her head on my shoulder for a moment. “Try not to think about it, Lottie.”

  “That’s right,” Carlotta chirps. “Think about something that makes you happy—like that murder that happened last night. Who’s the first suspect on your hit list?”

  I frown her way a moment. “First, murder does not make me happy. Second, I’d ixnay the use of the term hit list, especially since I may or may not still be on the hook for accidentally putting a hit out on Noah. And third, I have a few people I’d love to speak with. But I’d really like to start with a woman whose name I don’t even know.” A swell of emotions hits me all at once. “I guess that means I’m losing my investigative mojo.”

  “Aww.” Keelie wraps me in a firm embrace. “I’ll still love you, even if you never solve another case again.”

  Carlotta nods. “Foxy and Sexy will appreciate the heck out of it, too. They spent all morning trying to figure out how to stop you from meddling in this one. So who’s this mystery suspect, Lot?”

  “She was a tall brunette dressed as an elf. She and the victim were having a few tense exchanges, and then I saw Gloria haul off and smack the poor woman right over the face. I’m betting that put the elf in a killer mood.”

  Carlotta chuckles. “If you go meddling in this case, you might actually winnow out the real killer. If you let Foxy and that Detective Fairbanks take the wheel, they might actually put Suze Fox away for good and throw away the key.”

  Keelie gasps. “She’s as good as your mother-in-law, Lottie. I don’t know. As much as I want to say I’d save Bear’s mother, I might just opt to let the sheriff’s departm
ent handle the case and see where it gets me.”

  Those nasty words Suze said about me last night come to the forefront of my mind.

  “So what if Suze doesn’t approve of me or even like me? She’s Noah’s mother and perhaps my baby’s grandmother. The last thing I want to give my child is the legacy of having a grandparent in the pokey. I’m not solving this case for Suze. I’m solving it for my unborn child. And my sudden hankering for fried pickles with a side of justice.”

  Carlotta squints out at the wall behind me. “Say, did that mystery elf have short brown hair that fringed her forehead and round button eyes?”

  “Yes!” I say. “Do you know her?”

  “She’s the one that helped me close out my deal on that Van Ugh I bought.”

  “Van Ugh sounds about right.” Although Evie called it a Van Gauche, technically both are correct. “So did you get her name?”

  “Her nametag read Elf Elodie.”

  “Elodie.” I nod as I say it. “A unique name like that will make her twice as easy to track down.”

  Carlotta grunts, “Plus, she’s a member of that Christmas cult Suze belongs to.”

  “The Christmas Angels!” I gasp. “Why didn’t I think of that? Keelie? You don’t think this baby is eating my brain for breakfast, do you?”

  “Yup.” She toasts me with a gingerbread cookie. “Welcome to motherhood, Lottie. First, they steal your brain cells, then they steal your body.”

  “Great.” I take up a gingerbread man myself and bite his head off.

  “Candles!” Carlotta bellows it out as if she was trying to clear the building. “Come and get your red-hot Christmas gifts! Buy one candle get an eggnog trifle for free!” She winks my way. “Don’t worry, Lot. For what I’m charging, I’ll be able to pay you back for the trifle and we’re still making a killing.”

  The entire room flocks this way, and soon Carlotta is raking in the green and I’m almost clear out of my eggnog trifles. I think I’ll put together a platter of Christmas cookies and head over to my mother’s B&B. There’s a certain ex-mother-in-law I’m anxious to speak to.