Flag Cake Felonies (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 23) Page 8
“Excuse me, Lemon. The trash is starting to stink. I’d better take it out.”
He pulls Noah in by the lapels and gives him a violent shove.
Soon, Noah and Everett exchange fists to the eye and every band member morphs into a bouncer, landing the two of them out on the sidewalk.
It’s clear dinner is officially over.
One thing that isn’t over is Noah and Everett’s personal war.
And my investigation into Ambrosia Whispers’ death—well, that’s just getting started.
Chapter 8
The Honey Hollow Library is tucked into a hillside that affords views of the whole town from its bird’s eye perch.
It’s the very next afternoon, post the horrific brawl between Noah and Everett.
I sigh as I look to Bizzy. “I can’t help but note there was a heck of a lot more peace between the two of them when I was with Noah. I’m not saying Noah is immature. I’m just saying this reversal is new and it really stings his heart.”
Carlotta, Georgie, and Macy are snapping pictures of themselves with Honey Lake in the background while Bizzy and I wait to head into the library.
Lily is watching the bakery for me and already we’ve sold out of flag cakes for the day. I guess July is a patriotic month in general, but it doesn’t hurt that the entire town has fallen in love with the creamy goodness.
Bizzy hugs herself for a moment. “Noah seems like a really nice guy. I mean, Everett does, too.” Her eyes widen a notch as if she were covering something.
I’m about to probe just what that might be when Georgie and Carlotta stream into the library.
Macy hitches her head in that direction. “Come on, girls. It’s time to load up on dirty books.”
Inside the library it’s considerably cooler than the hot humid air of a Vermont summer.
“Oh, it’s heaven in here,” Bizzy whispers, fanning herself with her fingers.
“I’m glad about it, too,” I whisper back. “My sister is due in a month. I can’t imagine how miserable she must be in this heat.” I hold out the pink bakery box in my hand her way. “Last chance for a fresh baked Danish.”
“I’m still full from the blueberry Danish I had at the bakery this morning. Lottie, I don’t know how you show any restraint. I’d eat away all my profits if I were you.”
“Believe me, I’m close.”
The library is bustling and I’m not too surprised, seeing that it’s at least thirty degrees cooler in here. The library itself is spacious, lined with plush carpeting to keep the noise volume at a minimum. Almost every table and chair is filled to capacity and there are groups of mothers with toddlers in tow headed toward the glass room in the back for story time, I’m assuming.
I spot Lainey seated at the front reception desk and we head on over.
“Lottie Lemon,” my sister groans, waddling her way around her desk to pull me into a sideways hug.
Lainey’s caramel-colored hair is pulled back into a ponytail and she’s donned a pink and white floral dress over her enormous belly. Of course, I would never tell her it was enormous to her face, but, I’ll admit, it looks painfully distended. I’m terrified for my poor sweet sister to actually have to endure childbirth. I mean, I know women do it every day, but both she and Keelie are going to have to experience it in a very real way in just a few weeks, and from what television has shown me, it won’t be a picnic.
Lainey pries open the box. “Danishes! It’s like you read my mind. I’ve been craving cheese Danishes like nobody’s business. What brings you and the crew to my literary neck of the woods?” she asks, glancing over at Georgie and Carlotta who are currently perusing the what’s new section.
Bizzy takes a breath. “We’re in search of books and we’re hoping you can help us.”
“That’s the name of my game.” She sets the bakery box aside. “Now let’s get reading. Who? What? Where? And when?” she teases.
I give her the name of Ambrosia Whispers’ book, The Cheater’s Diary, and Lainey leads the charge.
Georgie and Carlotta tag along as well and we all pause as a group when Lainey shows us the expansive Ambrosia Whispers’ catalog the library has their hands on.
“Wow,” Bizzy says, running her finger along the spines. “This is quite a collection.”
“Yup.” Georgie pulls one off the shelf. “She was pretty prolific. Ladies and Scallywags was one of my favorite series. I guess now we’ll never know which scallywag Sharla chose to spend her life with. Now that Ambrosia is dead, she took all of our happy endings with her.”
Lainey moans, “I’m sorry to hear that, Georgie. But the good part is, the characters will live on forever.” The spine of a book catches her eye. “Oh, look, Lottie, here’s the book you requested, The Cheater’s Diary.”
“You have two copies,” Bizzy points out, taking the second copy for herself. “Looks as if Lottie and I are about to have a read along.”
Carlotta slaps her hands together. “Now let’s get to the good part. You got any books by Jackie Hart?”
Lainey makes a face. “If I had a dime for every time someone asks me that. She’s quite a popular lady.” She walks us over a few aisles. “Here we go.” She waves a hand over a about a dozen books.
I blink back. “Ambrosia had nearly the entire shelf to herself in comparison. I guess she really was prolific.”
Lainey nods furtively. “She really was. I’d say Jackie is more on par with what I’ve seen. The strange thing is that they’ve both been writing for about ten years or so. I guess Ambrosia never slept.”
“Huh,” Bizzy says while thumbing through the book in her hand. “This is supposed to be based on true events that occurred after she caught her boyfriend cheating on her.”
“Really?” Lainey leans in. “I might just have to read that myself once you’re done. I bet she slaughters him in his sleep. That’s what I would do.”
I lean an ear her way. “Should I warn Forest?”
She shakes her head. “You don’t have to. That man knows what one wayward glance will get him, let alone an entire body. Speaking of which, look at me. I’m the size of the library—heck, it looks as if I ate the library and it’s all his fault. He and those wayward glances.”
I can’t help but giggle. “I can’t wait to hold your baby in my arms. And, I can’t wait for the big double baby shower coming up. Any requests for the dessert table?”
She twitches her lips. “I don’t know, but I sure do have a hankering for a cheese Danish.”
“Ah-ha!” Georgie shouts, inspiring a ring of shhs coming from the surrounding tables. “Here it is,” she whispers as loud as she can while pulling a book off the shelves. “In the Judge’s Chamber by Jackie Hart.”
“Oh thank God, there’s more than one copy.” Carlotta takes another off the shelf, as does Macy.
Bizzy shoulders her way in. “What about me?”
“Bizzy!” I laugh at the thought of her wanting a copy. “Okay, fine. What about me?”
“Here.” Lainey reaches up and pulls out another copy that got pushed to the back. “The two of you will have to share. I’ll admit, it’s unusual for us to have so many copies, but this book has gotten more requests than just about any other romance book in here—combined.”
My cheeks heat at the prospect of reading all about Everett’s sexual dalliances. I much prefer living them, especially while they’re happening to me.
Bizzy hands me the book. “You can have it. I’ll share Georgie or Macy’s copy with them.”
Georgie grunts, already immersed within the text. “Good luck prying this out of my cold, dead hands. I’m taking this one to the afterlife with me.”
“Ditto,” Macy says, pulling the book closer to her face as she begins in on the reading adventure herself.
Carlotta gives a whoop as she buries her own nose in her copy. “Is it wrong that I’m envisioning my little Lot Lot as Loretta, the judge’s red-hot flame?”
Macy gives a dark laugh. “Is it
wrong that I’m envisioning myself?”
“Ditto,” Georgie says.
Bizzy shrugs as she glances to the unopened book in my hand.
Lainey leans over Carlotta’s shoulder. “What’s the big deal about this book that has turned you all into bona fide reading zombies?”
Carlotta lifts her chin, her eyes never straying from the words on the page in front of her.
“The author wrote this book after having some hot chamber loving with Lot Lot’s man. It’s basically a tell-all of his naughty, intimate ways.”
“Everett?” Lainey squawks as she wrangles the book from Carlotta and begins to take in as many words as she can before Carlotta tries to wrangle it right back.
“Oh, what the heck.” I crack open the book in my hands, and Bizzy and I get right to reading. “Wow,” I muse as I quickly flip through the pages, looking for the juicy stuff, but there’s no real need. Each page is chock-full of juicy stuff. “He’s definitely honed that skill,” I whisper.
Bizzy gasps as she dots her finger over a paragraph. “Is that even legal?”
Lainey looks over her shoulder. “Is it painful?”
“No to both,” I say as I snap the book shut. “Do you think there’s a plotline in there?”
Lainey snatches the book from me. “Who cares?”
Carlotta and Georgie let out a simultaneous howl.
“Lot Lot.” Carlotta kicks me in the back of the knee. “Quick, check page thirty-three. I need verification he’s still using that move.”
Georgie pulls the book away and comes up for air. “If he is, consider my hat officially in the ring.”
Bizzy opens the book in her hand and flips the pages before sucking in a quick breath.
“Is this even real?” She pulls back, and I quickly peruse the infamous page.
My lips press tight. “I plead the fifth.”
“Lottie!” Macy barks it out like a reprimand. “What are you doing here, wasting time with a bunch of overheated women? We need to get you down to the courthouse.”
“Page thirty-three is at stake.” Carlotta bonks me on the head with the book. “Now get!”
I make a face. I’ll admit, the offer is tempting.
“Maybe.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. “But first, I think we could all use a drink at the bar.”
Lainey squints over at me. “There is no bar at the library. Or in all of Honey Hollow for that matter.”
“Yup.” I take a deep breath as I give Carlotta and Georgie the side-eye. “That’s why we’re headed to Leeds.”
Georgie and Carlotta link arms and spin around, dancing a little jig that looks better fit for Octoberfest.
“A bar?” Macy rolls her eyes. “If I had a shot at meeting up with the hot judge in his chambers, I’d make sure I was one hundred percent sober.”
“Oh, I will be,” I assure her. I plan on being more than lucid when I speak with Ambrosia Whispers’ ex.
Henry Watson, we’re gunning for you.
Chapter 9
Lowlifes is located in a red brick building just down the street from where my sister Meg works, the Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club.
Macy opted out of our little investigative field trip once Alex made her a better offer, or more aptly put, an indecent proposal she couldn’t refuse. She was more than a little heated after reading that expose of Everett’s love life.
Fine, we were all a bit heated.
Lainey actually dumped a cup full of ice over her face.
I’m not going to lie. I’m looking forward to tonight, where I can fully explore the benefits of page thirty-three—for research purposes, of course.
Carlotta barks out a laugh as she points to the chalkboard sign just outside of the establishment.
“Enjoy cheesy nachos with your cheesy date,” Bizzy reads. “At least they’re honest.”
Georgie ticks her head to the side. “I’ve spent decades around lowlifes. And I’m not afraid to say they can be entertaining as long as they’re not trying to use you for their entertainment.”
I open the door to the venue and a blast of cool air hits us, right along with the scent of French fries and cheap beer.
“Let’s hope Henry Watson is in the mood to entertain us,” I say. “With the truth.”
The inside is covered with red brick as well, beat-up wood floors, and small round tables that look as if they were made of slices from a redwood tree. The music is a touch too loud, as expected, and there is more than a fair share of bodies in here for the late afternoon crowd.
I spot a familiar face seated down by the bar surrounded by beautiful young women.
“Hey, that’s my sister,” I say as I head in that direction. “Meg?” I say as I come upon her.
She’s got her black hair pulled back into a long sleek ponytail and enough eyeliner ringed around her eyes to qualify her for the raccoon family, but she’s gorgeous nonetheless. She’s wearing a torn up black tank top and has on a spiked collar, giving her that tough girl appeal she strives for. Meg is a tough girl with or without the spikes, but I think she likes the message they convey.
“Lottie Lemon.” She stands and gives me a quick embrace before waving to Bizzy, Carlotta, and Georgie. “What brings you to my neck of the adultery-riddled woods?”
I give a quick sweep of the vicinity and note a man with a fedora working behind the bar, and I don’t have any doubt that it’s the man I came to see. I recognize his hat from that infamous day at the lake.
I lean in and whisper, “I’m here to talk to the bartender. It’s a part of my investigation.” I pull back. “What are you doing here?” I give a tiny wave to the girls sitting around the table who look somewhat bored while waiting for us to finish up our conversation.
“Red Satin is on a hiring spree, so I’m doing interviews. I don’t like to do them at the club because the men always try to influence my decisions.”
Georgie claps up a storm. “Interviews for the strip club? Count me in.” She pulls up a seat at the table and Carlotta pulls up a seat right next to her.
Carlotta snorts, “If my bestie has a dream, who am I to burst her bubble?”
Meg glances to the bar. “Hey, Henry!”
He turns this way and I cringe.
Perhaps telling Meg about my true intentions wasn’t the best idea. In my defense, my brain is still sexually scrambled after cherry picking my way through In the Judge’s Chamber. It turns out, my husband has a lot to answer to. Or in the least demonstrate.
Husband.
I swoon for a moment at the thought.
Meg lifts a finger. “Free drinks for my sister and her friend. They’re on me.” She turns my way. “Good luck to you, Lot. Hope you nail whoever you’re looking to pin to a wall.” She plunks back into her seat and carries on with her own interrogation methods.
Bizzy and I shuffle our way to the bar, where we meet up with the fedora wearing man with a red beard and affable smile.
“So which one of you is Meg’s sister?” he asks with a laugh caught in his throat.
“That would be me,” I say as Bizzy and I take a seat at the end of the bar. “And this is my good friend, Bizzy Baker. She’s here from out of town and I’m trying to show her a good time.”
He glides an amber-colored drink over to a customer. “You came to the right place,” he says as he makes his way closer to us. “So you’re really Meg’s sister?” He laughs to himself. “She’s a good friend of mine. She’s been coming to the bar for the past year just shooting the breeze. Too bad she’s not single or I would have scooped her up.”
It’s true. Meg has been seeing Hook Redwood for about a year now. He’s a decent guy. Smart. In fact, he owns a finance business with Alex.
“Well, Meg is quite the catch, so I couldn’t blame you there.” A tight smile pins to my cheeks.
“How about you?” He gives a playful wink.
“I’m married and she’s engaged.” I quickly fill our bartender friend in on the status of our love lives
before this takes a turn for the desperate. Although, I’m not really getting a desperate vibe from him—more like a playful energy.
A burst of hot pink light claps to my left as Bingo suddenly appears standing on her hind legs and belly to the bar.
“What did I miss, Lottie?”
I shake my head as if answering her question. I touch my bare leg to Bizzy’s bare leg in hopes the connection to the other side will be the same as it would be if we were holding hands.
Bingo lets out an egregious oink that goes on forever, causing Bizzy to jump as she looks that way. It seems the connection is strong after all.
Henry gives an adorable frown. “Well, that’s too bad. I like to score at least one date per shift and now my quota is off-kilter.”
Bizzy gives a gentle laugh. “Well, the day is young yet. Hey, I think I recognize you. Weren’t you down at Honey Lake on the Fourth? I was burning up and saw your hat. I remember thinking, now there’s a smart man, wearing a cool hat. My dad used to wear fedoras all the time while I was growing up, so it caught my eye.”
I have no clue if any of it was factual. I vaguely remember Bizzy wearing a hat, but that may not be factual either. Regardless, she’s great at transitioning subject matters with suspects. I can definitely learn a thing or two from her.
His playful demeanor quickly evaporates as she gives a shifty glance to the left and right.
“That was me.” He shrugs as if coming to terms with his honesty. “A few friends invited me to their cookout, and I was in charge of bringing the hot dogs.” His eyebrows give an unenthused bounce.
“I was there, too,” I offer. “Actually, I bumped into Bizzy there. There was a tent set out for a bunch of local authors and we were both huge fans of Mirandy Lemonade. She writes romance.” Shoot. Should I have mentioned Ambrosia instead?
Bizzy shakes her head my way discreetly.
Bingo snorts once again. “I’m sensing he’s hiding something. Why don’t you ask him if he likes to read books? My mother always said not to trust humans who didn’t read books.”