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

  “Don’t apologize. I’m all for the project. I probably got the email, but I haven’t exactly been checking any mail since this little peanut was born,” I say, taking up Lyla Nell’s hand as she bounces in my mother’s arms. I put a pink bonnet on her and a pink frilly one-piece bathing suit that makes her look like a pink confection. Her dimples are digging in so deep it looks as if you could lose a finger in them, and with each passing day, her eyes grow a rich shade of emerald just like her daddy’s.

  “She is adorable.” Mayor Nash gives her chin a quick tickle.

  “She’s going to be a stunner,” Mom says, patting down Lyla Nell’s lips with her blanket.

  Lyla Nell has been drooling like crazy, and I pray she’s not teething already. Lainey and Keelie said I should expect her to bite me for months once those pearly whites break through. I’m pretty sure that’s when I’ll evict her from mommy milk. There are only so many levels of pain I can take and having my nipples used as chew toys is where I might have to draw the line.

  “Would you look at this face?” Mom coos at the baby when she says it. “She looks exactly like Noah.”

  Noah pops up with a couple of buckets of chicken and an ear-to-ear grin.

  “That she does, Miranda,” he says. “Who knew I’d make such a cute little girl?”

  “Me,” Everett teases as he crops up next to him with a couple of large boxes of pizza and a bag full of Wicked Wok set on top.

  Both Mom and Mayor Nash moan at the sight.

  “You’re welcome to put that on the table, boys.” Mom motions for them to do it.

  “Thanks,” Noah says, doing just that. “We were just about to rent a tent ourselves. It’s a part of the investigation.”

  Mom looks over at me, aghast. “You weren’t going to take the baby, were you?”

  “Why not?”

  “Oh, Lottie.” Mom rolls her eyes. “Lyla Nell is staying right here with me. Harry, why don’t you pull those chairs around for us? Don’t worry, Lottie. Lyla Nell will be safe in the shade right here with her Glam Glam where she belongs. You go and have fun. Go kayaking or jump on that yacht of Everett’s.”

  “It’s still in the dry dock,” he says. “But I’m pulling it out this week.”

  “I can’t wait.” I wiggle my shoulders at the thought. Last year, Everett bought a ridiculously huge yacht named The Lucky Lemon, and I won’t lie, it’s nothing but a giant ball of luxurious fun. “All right, let’s go rent to our heart’s content, then we’ll come back and fill our bellies. Help yourselves,” I say to Mom and Mayor Nash before kissing Lyla Nell and taking off.

  Noah, Everett, and I head toward the shack about fifty yards away that reads Fun Rentals, Kayaks, Jet Skis, and More! The sand sifting through my flip-flops is hot as we traverse families sprawled out on beach blankets and women with barely-there bikinis—all of whom seem acutely aware of the studs flanking me on either side. Can’t say I blame them. And just before we get to the shack, we venture through the teen scene.

  A tiny giggle escapes me. “I remember when I was finally old enough to sit in the teen section. The teenagers of Honey Hollow have been segregating themselves from the family section for as far back as I can recall.”

  “Not surprising,” Noah says. “Not many teenagers want their parents watching them get their game on.”

  Everett groans hard as if someone had just sucker punched him. “Like right now,” he says, nodding to his right, and we look over to find Evie and her friends. She’s seated on a beach towel while her blond brick wall of a boyfriend, Conner Saint, applies suntan lotion to her back with those big, beefy mitts of his. Her blonde bestie, Dash, is next to her doing the exact same thing to her boyfriend, and I can feel Everett’s blood pressure rising right along with the heat index.

  Conner and Evie have been going out for almost a year now. At one point, she was dating both her boyfriend and Dash’s boyfriend, too—yes, Evie picked up quickly on my penchant for having two men at a time. But, thankfully, I was able to convince her to share the wealth.

  Evie glances this way and her eyes widen with horror.

  “Oh, frick everything,” she shouts. “You guys can’t sit here! You’re too old.” She picks up her beach bag and lands it over her head before belting out a scream.

  “Don’t worry, Evie Stevie!” Carlotta shouts as she crops up and grabs both Noah and Everett by the arms. “I’ll whisk off her men and Lot Lot will follow. We see no evil.”

  “I see evil.” Everett points hard at Conner, and the poor kid goes white as a sheet.

  “Come on, Sexy.” Carlotta tugs at him until he follows along. “We should catch a killer before you become one. Who knows? Whoever killed that man last night might offer up a few pointers you can use when you decide to off Evie’s boy toy. We already know Conner ain’t no Saint. That boy’s head is on a chopping block. And now that you’ve proven you can wiggle out of a prison sentence, due to that night-time wandering habit, you could slaughter half the town and not do a stitch of time.” She elbows Noah. “Watch out, Foxy. I’d sleep with one eye open and your weapon at the ready. Sexy does his best work after dark. Just ask Lot, he’s got her moaning and groaning until sunup.”

  “Carlotta,” I snip just as we set foot into the large concrete structure set just feet from the shoreline. Duncan Spears’ rental shop is crammed with everything you’d need to have a good time on the lake, from blowup innertubes to French cut bathing suits, much like the red number Carlotta has on now. There’s a smattering of people inside, and the sound of reggae music siphons from the speakers, putting me in an even beachier mood than I was to begin with.

  “Well holy, holy,” a deep voice strums from our left and we turn to find Rooster himself with his greasy hair and equally greasy grin. He’s ditched his ill-fitting suit for a pair of bright yellow swim trunks and a hot pink muscle shirt that sags over his chest. “Tell me I ain’t died and gone to heaven,” he says, riding his eyes up and down Carlotta’s body. “Anyone else in here getting the munchies?”

  “Good grief,” I whisper. “Somebody make him disappear before he ruins our investigation.”

  “I’ll do it, Lot,” Carlotta says, pulling her shoulders back so hard her boobs begin to flail like assault weapons. “You do what you do best—shake down every employee in this joint until they lead you on a wild goose chase. And I’ll do what I do best—making men sweat and shake at the sight of me.”

  She goes one way and I quickly navigate Noah and Everett in the opposite direction, where thankfully the registers are located.

  “Don’t worry, Lottie,” Noah says, looking back their way. “I’ll keep an eye on them to make sure Carlotta doesn’t get hurt.”

  “Have you met her?” Everett asks. “It’s most likely Carlotta who will do the hurting.”

  A laugh bounces from me. “You’ve got her pegged. But then again, she and Charlie did lie on the stand about God knows what and caused that man to serve some heavy-duty time. It wouldn’t surprise me if he wanted revenge. Noah, do you have your weapon?”

  “Nope. I was hoping to go in the water today. But I’ve got my hands.”

  “I’ve got my weapon.” Everett’s lips twitch with the hint of a wicked smile because we both know what body parts he’s weaponized.

  I’ll let him do a thorough takedown of me tonight, but for now we need to find someone to quiz about the guy I did the dead man’s waltz with yesterday.

  A woman in the children’s section catches my eye, and I gasp.

  “Look,” I whisper. “That’s Karen Collier, the woman Britney introduced me to last night. Come to think of it, she was glaring at Duncan, and I got a very strange vibe just witnessing it.” It’s her, all right. Her long dark hair has its mirror shine, and she’s wearing a white sundress with the hint of a nude-colored bikini top tied off around her neck. She has a wicker beach bag with a white hat poking out of it, and for the most part, she looks like any other mom in here with the exception of those four-inch stacked heels s
he’s wearing.

  There’s another woman with her—short, frumpy, colorful board shorts, socks with sandals. And bobbing between them are two young boys with pale blond hair, dressed in rash guards and long shorts that dip past their knees. They’re hugging a pair of towels while sporting impatient looks on their faces.

  Everett leans in. “Go on over and do your thing, Lemon. I’ll rent the equipment we need so we can get back to Lyla Nell and enjoy the day. I won’t take my eyes off you.”

  Noah nods. “I won’t either.”

  They take off for the register and I sail over to the children’s section with all of their cute miniature swimsuits that look as if they’re made for dolls, and I just so happen to have one of those dolls waiting for me back on the beach.

  One of the little boys says something to Karen and she shakes her head.

  “You’ll do whatever Sally tells you,” she snips. “She’s the boss, remember?”

  He whines before bopping off to his brother. And since Sally seems busy looking at a box full of colorful pool noodles, I decide to steal the moment.

  “Karen? Is that you?” I ask as I feign a look of surprise.

  The woman looks up and her hair shimmies across her shoulders.

  Before she can say a single word, a spray of light blue stars ignites and the cutest little furball pops up—a dead one at that.

  “What? Where? Who?” He barks as he looks around, startled. His ghostly frame has a pale green aura, and there are tiny silver and blue stars all around him. He has white curly fur, and much like last night, the fur on his head is shaped like a globe. “Oh, there you are.” He looks my way. “I’m afraid I was detained at the dog park. How I miss my old stomping grounds. I used to enjoy barking at all the rottweilers and pit bulls. Daphne used to say I didn’t know my own size. She said I was too cute for my own good. That’s exactly why she named me Pretty Boy. I’m a Bichon Frise, often mistaken for your run-of-the-mill poodle. Boy, did I ever love to run with the big dogs.” He sighs at the thought of far better, far more dangerous days gone by.

  “Bichon Frise,” I whisper.

  Karen looks momentarily confused. “Hi, Lottie.” She squints my way. “Did you say Bichon Frise?” She dances to her left and looks to the ground. “Nope, sorry. I haven’t seen one of those cuties since my best friend, Daphne, used to have one.”

  “Daphne?” I perk up. That’s the same name Pretty Boy just threw out that belonged to his owner.

  Karen grows somber a moment. “Sadly, she’s not in Honey Hollow anymore. She divorced her husband a year ago and moved back to Fallbrook.” She gives a quick look around before leaning in. “Her husband was Duncan Spears.”

  “The man who passed away last night?”

  She gives a quick nod. “I heard she’s been up since sunrise having mimosas. She’s not too broken up about it.”

  “I guess not. But it sounds as if you were close to her.”

  Pretty Boy barks. “Oh, they were! They were closer than sisters. Why, I remember Karen. Duncan always said she and Daphne were thick as thieves.”

  Pretty Boy must have passed away recently. And he knew Karen! I bet he knows other people in Duncan’s Life, too, like say—the killer.

  Karen shakes her head and her tresses follow like an afterthought. “No, Daphne and I weren’t close at all.” Her lips turn down as she glares out the window. “We hardly knew each other.” She forces a quick smile my way.

  “That’s not true!” Pretty Boy riots right into her face with a barking storm that rivals an entire pack of rabid dogs. “She’s lying, I tell you. Let me bite her ankles. That always sets them straight.” He gets to doing just that and Karen kicks her foot out.

  “Geez, these shoes are killing me.” She rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “The things we do to impress our men.” She chortles my way.

  “Well, your husband is very lucky you care to do so. Is he here?” I give a quick glance around, and she shakes her head, sending those tresses dancing like a dark tinsel curtain once again.

  “I’m afraid not. My husband is Dennis Collier. If his name sounds familiar, it’s because he’s the owner and founder of the Posh Pet Stop.”

  “Posh Pet Stop?” I press my hand to my chest as I give a genuine smile. “Wait a minute. He’s that Dennis Collier? I’ve seen his picture on all the advertisements. Black hair, dark eyes?” I leave out handsome because I don’t want her to think I’m interested. “I love the Posh Pet Stop. I take my cats there all the time. I mean, I know it’s a drive because the nearest one we have is out in Ashford, but I don’t mind. My husband and my boyfriend both work out that way.” I give a hard blink. “Did I say boyfriend? Old habits die hard. Noah isn’t technically my boyfriend anymore, but he is the father of my child.” I grimace again. “And I’m not sure that sounds much better. Anyway, I’m in love with your stores.”

  She laughs. “Don’t worry. I envy that you get to have such a thrilling relationship right out in the open. That’s refreshing.” She fans herself with her fingers. “Anyway, Dennis is tending to business, as he does most days. Last night was more or less a fluke. He’s so busy we hardly have time to wave to one another as we come and go. Oh, before I forget, I’ve got one of my nannies here with my boys. They’re five-year-old twins, and she’s been with them since the beginning. Like I said, she’ll be a great resource for you.”

  “Twins, wow. I’ve got one and I’m struggling. I can’t imagine having two at the same time.”

  “Believe me, it was a blessing. I knew I wasn’t having any more than one pregnancy. We struggled with years of infertility issues.” She rolls her eyes again. “But thankfully, we got our boys.”

  “Well then, that is a huge blessing.”

  “More like a huge blessing that I don’t have to wrangle them myself.” She laughs as she points to her nanny. “They call her Mama, isn’t that sweet?” She guffaws as if it were the funniest thing in the world. I’d be sick to my stomach if Lyla Nell called another woman Mama. “It makes sense, though. She’s with them from the time they wake up until they go to sleep. She shuttles them to school and does their homework for them, and all the rest of that good junk. It’s hard to fit the boys in with all the other mom stuff I have to do. There are so many clubs you’ll have to join now that you’re one of us. Like the historical society. Wasn’t that regency ball just to die for?” She flicks her wrist and looks as if she’s reliving the very best memory.

  Pretty Boy floats up near eye level and barks right at her. “Duncan thought so.”

  I give a curt nod his way because he’s right. How could she be so glib about it? But then again, she is letting another woman raise her children—do their homework, and I’m betting that means exactly what she says it does.

  Pretty Boy growls at the woman before us. “Ask her why anyone would want to see Duncan Spears dead? Duncan was my best friend. Not a finer man walked the planet.”

  “Karen, what do you think happened to Duncan last night? I heard rumors the sheriff’s department hasn’t ruled out a homicide just yet.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “You don’t say.” She bites down on a smile, and her strange behavior is starting to make my skin crawl. “Well, that’s not surprising. He was quite the polarizing individual. He had lots of opinions. But by and large, he was a walking, talking good time. Such a good time that he was a serial cheater. That’s why Daphne took off. Duncan had a pretty little thing tucked in every corner.” She shrugs. “I guess when it came right down to it, he wasn’t really the marrying type.”

  “But who would want to hurt him? And at such a public venue?”

  Her lips twitch to the right and left. “You know, I’m not trying to throw anyone under the bus, but my friend, Lorelei, had some bitter words to say about him a time or two. Nothing incriminating, but you could tell she was shaken and seething. Whatever he did to upset her really had a physical effect on her. She might be able to shed some light on the situation a little better. She did some secretarial wor
k for him once in a while.”

  “Lorelei? The mommy and me instructor?”

  “That’s the one.” She gives a circular nod just as her boys attack her at once and clamor to leave. “I guess we’re ready for some fun in the sun.” She leans my way. “Sally will watch the boys like nobody’s business while I read a book and take a much-needed nap. I’m telling you, Lottie, a good nanny is your ticket to freedom—and sanity.”

  Both boys run up and tug at her sundress. “Mommy, Mommy!”

  They both have matching pale blond hair that looks as if it was bleached in the sun, their skin is tan, and that adds to their already glowing clear green eyes. They look familiar to me, and I don’t know why. That’s what no sleep for three months will get you. I’m not sure of who I know or what I know anymore.

  She looks down at the boys. “All right, you smelly little rugrats, go on—shoo.” They take off laughing and Sally, nanny extraordinaire, takes off running after them. Karen backtracks as she looks up at me. “Oh, and one more thing. I just spoke to Mayor Nash, and he’s allowing the historical society to hold a do-over ball. The entire town is invited once again, and we’ll honor the tickets that were purchased the first time. But we’re not holding it at the Evergreen Manor.” She shudders. “It wouldn’t be right after what happened to Duncan. We’re hosting it at the cute B&B that’s rumored to be haunted. Who knows? We might get a ghost or two to join us—and maybe even a killer.” She gives a quick wink before walking out the door.

  “We’ll have four ghosts joining us,” I whisper to Pretty Boy. “Five if you still happen to be here.”

  Everett comes up and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “How did it go, Lemon?”

  “I’ve got another suspect to speak with. Hopefully, she’ll give me more answers than questions.” I look to the ghostly pooch before me. “Pretty Boy, I can’t thank you enough.”