Killer Cupcakes (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 14) Read online

Page 9


  “It’s not a disaster.”

  Thirteen lets out a simple mewl. “Might I suggest getting your mind off of things for a while and focusing in on the murder at hand? I do believe your mother has received some bad press this morning.”

  “What?” I pull out my phone, and sure enough both Lainey and Meg have texted me with links to articles in our local paper. “Keelie, they’re calling my mother the Black Widow, the Merry Widow. They’re all but accusing her of killing Pastor Gaines.”

  “Oh, I know. But don’t worry. My mother said it was great for business, especially this time of year. You have no idea how many people are willing to spend the night at the B&B just so they can say they slept with a serial killer.”

  “A serial killer?” I balk at this new horrific nickname—and my mother seems to be collecting them by the dozens.

  “They’re still linking her to the death of that one guy she dated. The one who liked to boss her around? There are entire women’s groups who hail her as a hero for that one. Not so much for killing Pastor Gaines. We’ll have to put a good spin on it. Any dirt on him you think we can use?”

  “Plenty. I just don’t want to rock the already rocky investigation. Don’t worry. I’ll handle this. Today.” I take off my apron and quickly text Noah to see if his afternoon is free. He texts right back, letting me know he’s swamped but will be home by six and is bringing us dinner. That’s so sweet and it feels so right, I want to cry.

  I didn’t dare tell him what my intentions were with him this afternoon because Noah wouldn’t approve of me going off on my own.

  I look to Keelie. “Can you get a few hours off?”

  “Are you kidding? Margo and Mannford are in New York taking some fancy cooking class, as if they needed it. I don’t even have time to stand here and chat with you.” Margo and Mannford are the five-star chefs who run the kitchen of the Honey Pot Diner.

  Keelie scoops up an armful of pies. “Don’t do anything crazy. And don’t go investigating alone. Take someone with you!” she shouts as she heads on out.

  “You’ll take me.” Thirteen bounds his way over, and I give his head a quick pat.

  “I’m taking you for sure.”

  My phone bleats in my hand, and I jump when I see who it is.

  Everett.

  Lemon, my afternoon just cleared up in a moment. I’m sensing a supernatural disturbance. Are you up for a late lunch?

  I text right back. Sounds perfect. I hear Burlington has great Chinese food.

  My phone pings again. Burlington it is.

  Chapter 12

  Everett parks in the alley behind the bakery, and I head out to meet him. He must sense something is off because he gets out of his car and wraps his arms around me tightly.

  “Lemon? What’s going on?”

  Noah and everything that’s happened between us flits through my mind and tears burn my eyes because Everett remains buried in my heart and now what.

  But I don’t have any words I’d like to share. Instead, I hold on for dear life as he drops a heated kiss over the top of my head.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  We hop into the car and start off down to Burlington, and suddenly it’s as if everything is normal between us. Everett tells me about his morning at work, his cases, and the judgments he’s passed down recently. And I tell him all about my morning with Thirteen and the millions of cupcakes which seem to be repopulating all on their own at the bakery.

  Soon enough, there’s a large wooden sign off the highway welcoming us to Burlington and I groan.

  “It just occurred to me I don’t know where we’re going and if Elaine Gilmore lives here. For all I know, Mitzi Underwood could have been spinning a tale. Oh, Everett, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where my head is these days.”

  “I’ve got this. As soon as you said Burlington, I knew we were looking for Elaine. I talked to my guy. And in two right turns and a left we should be face to face with her.”

  “Your guy?” I practically moan with delight over this. “I’m a little bit in love with your guy. He really knows a thing or two.”

  “Watch it,” he teases. “He’ll have to stand in line behind me.”

  “There’s no line. And if there were, you’d be at the head.” My stomach churns because I don’t want to tell him that Noah is standing right beside him. A big, beautiful body of water pops up on the right. “Oh, I just love Lake Champlain—and look at all the maples surrounding the shoreline!” A burst of fiery citrine hues erupts as far as the eye can see, and it looks stunning when juxtaposed against the deep blue of the lake.

  “Lucky for you that’s where we’re headed. It turns out, Elaine Gilmore runs a B&B right on the water.”

  “No kidding?” I’d be amused if I wasn’t so creeped out. “Wow, Pastor Gaines is starting to look more and more like a predator by the minute.”

  Burlington is a charming city with an old-world appeal that has always made it feel homey. We take a few private roads down evergreen-lined paths, and then in a burst of glory the lake seems to be at our feet. A small sign to the right reads Breakfast at the Lake.

  Everett leans in and squints at it. “This is it.”

  We take a turn in the road, and a beautiful Victorian building comes up on our right. It’s large, about the same size as my mother’s B&B, and there are dozens of bright orange pumpkins dotting the entrance.

  “Everett, this is adorable,” I say as we head on out.

  There’s a sign to the right that reads Shoreline Café. The grounds are immaculate with trimmed emerald lawns and sweetgums in an array of fall colors lining the property.

  Everett takes up my hand. “Let’s head inside. If I’m right, she should be there to greet us.”

  We head on up the monstrously large porch, and inside it’s cozy with paneled walls stained in walnut and matching wood floors. There’s a fireplace in the center of the grand room and people milling around. It looks comfortable and inviting and just the perfect place to curl up with a book. To the right there’s a stairwell with an elevator just to the left. Now that’s something you don’t see every day, but a modern necessity for some guests. My mother is still looking into getting one installed.

  We make our way to the reception area, a long wooden counter adorned with a pumpkin hollowed out and filled with flowers much like the ones my mother and her horticulture club are churning out these days.

  “Just a minute!” a voice calls from around the corner, and no sooner do we look that way than an older blonde bounces her way over and I gasp.

  As I live and breathe.

  I shake my head at the woman because I can’t believe what my eyes are telling me. Standing before me is an exact representation of my mother. Same medium-length hair with loose vanilla curls, same bright blue eyes, same mischievous smile.

  “Elaine Gilmore, how can I help you?” She looks breathlessly from Everett to me. “My, I have never seen such a stunning couple before. Let me guess, honeymoon?”

  Everett pulls me in. “Close. We’re actually exploring local places for just that. Your inn looks perfect.”

  “Yes.” I nod wildly at Everett’s genius. “Maybe you could give us a tour?”

  “Oh, heavens yes. In fact, I’ll do you one better. Once we’re through, we’ll head out to the café and I’ll give you both complimentary mimosas. There is nothing like young love.” She wiggles her shoulders, and it’s Miranda Lemon all over again. She makes her way around the counter, and I’m astounded to see her mannerisms are so much like my mother’s. She’s donned a red and purple tweed jacket and matching pencil skirt. Her feet are pressed into an adorable pair of kitten heels, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she raided my mother’s closet.

  She quickly shows us the grand room, the reading room in the back, and we poke our head into the dining room and the glass-encased courtyard that eerily resembles my mother’s conservatory.

  “So when’
s the big day?” Her voice trills à la Miranda Lemon, and I shudder because suddenly it feels as if we’ve crossed over into some other dimension laden with doppelgängers.

  “July fourth,” Everett offers and a soft chuckle bounces from me. That’s a Cormack-inspired date if ever there was one. In fact, not long ago, she helped Everett and me whittle it down. She said we couldn’t have June because she was marrying Noah that month. And if Noah doesn’t watch his back, that is exactly what will happen.

  “Oh, it’ll be here before you know it.” She points to the stairwell. “I have a honeymoon suite that looks over the lake. It’s twice the size of our other suites and boasts a hot tub the size of a swimming pool. She gives a little wink. But, unfortunately, all the rooms are currently booked. The café, however, is calling our name. Come, come.” She beckons us to follow along with her finger, and we head out the back onto a sprawling indoor-outdoor café brimming with guests and visitors alike.

  The scent of something mouthwatering emanates from the direction of the kitchen, and there’s a friendly waitstaff circulating around the dining area.

  She motions for a waitress and shouts for two mimosas before turning our way. “Lunch is on me. I’ve got the perfect table for you.” She walks us out to a table closest to the expansive view of the lake, and it suddenly feels as if we’ve been transported to a sunny seaside villa.

  “This is amazing!” I say as we take our seats and soon two champagne flutes appear, clouded with a touch of orange juice.

  Elaine bubbles with laughter herself. “If you think this is amazing, wait until you see the sunrise from the honeymoon suite. It’s stunning—especially at that time of year. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Um”—I look to Everett for help—“how about some marital advice?” I shrug up at her, hoping this will somehow segue to the fact she offed Pastor Gaines. But she’s so lovely, she reminds me so much of my mother, and her B&B is simply adorable—oh heck, if she confessed to the crime, point-blank, I might just toast her with my mimosa and call it a day.

  A sharp laugh bellows from her. “Do you have all day?”

  “We actually do.” Everett pulls a chair forth. “And we would appreciate any words of wisdom you have to offer.”

  She averts her eyes in the same way my mother is prone to do before falling in the seat across from us, and just like that, Thirteen appears seated on the table. I take up Everett’s hand and offer up a squeeze.

  “I don’t know about words of wisdom.” A throaty laugh brews from her.

  “Perhaps words of caution?” Thirteen muses, his green eyes glowing supernaturally and it’s a stunning sight. “Considering she might be the killer, I’d take her thoughts on the sacred union and toss them into that body of water. Fire away, Lottie. Here’s your chance.”

  “How long have you been married?” I ask, and with each passing moment I feel just as comfortable with this woman as I do my own mother. Honestly, I think they might be long-lost sisters.

  “I’m not married now. However, I’ve been married twice. First to my true love, a man by the name of Kenneth Gilmore who gave me three beautiful daughters.”

  I’m right back to gasping. Three daughters? Just like Mom!

  “That’s incredible,” I say and Everett shakes his head ever so slightly at me. “I mean, that’s wonderful.”

  “Oh, it is. Children are a great blessing. The two of you should have an entire gaggle. You both have such striking features. I’m sure they’ll be beautiful.”

  Everett pulls my hand to his lips and presses a kiss over it. “We can’t wait to get started on our family.”

  Our family? Aww! Everett is killing me today. First a wedding on the Fourth of July and now children? I’m toast.

  “And how about with your second husband?” I shrug over at her. “Any children with him?”

  “Heavens no. We just married a little over three years ago.” She glances to the table as her demeanor shifts on a dime, from jovial to somber. “I’m embarrassed to say he was more of a cautionary tale. When my first husband passed away, I took the insurance money and bought this place.” Gah! Just like my mother! “I put the girls through school, of course, and then spent time getting my business up and running. I had only begun to date just recently. Just before I met Stephen, in fact.” She scowls at the lake when she says his name, and I can’t blame her. “He said he was from Nevada. He came into Burlington and swept me off my proverbial feet. He was a pastor at the local church. And seeing that he was a man of God, I never questioned anything about him.”

  Everett takes a breath. “Did he give you reasons to question him?”

  “Not until he was gone.” She makes a face at the lake again. “One morning I woke up and he had disappeared, just like that. Our joint checking account had been cleared out. It was just after I sold the house my first husband and I shared, the one my girls grew up in. He took it all, left me with nothing. It was his idea to sell the house. I had kept it and rented it out. I thought maybe one of the girls would want to live in it one day, but he convinced me we could travel with the money—see the world.” She sighs heavily.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, clutching my chest. If Pastor Gaines were still around, I’d wring his neck myself. “Did you suspect anything at all? Did anything seem off about him? What about his family?”

  “Ha! He never talked about them. He mentioned his parents were dead.”

  Thirteen twitches his whiskers. “That they are.”

  “And I think he mentioned a brother and sister once—Jack and Joyce? But for all I know they could have been manufactured.”

  Thirteen lets out a sweet meow my way. “It’s the truth.”

  Jack and Joyce. I make a mental note of it.

  Elaine shrugs as she glances to the water once again as if that’s where she buried all these truths so long ago.

  “My middle daughter, Rachel, was forever trying to warn me about him. ‘There’s just something about him, Mom,’ she’d say.” She shakes her head wistfully as if scolding herself for not listening. “Anyway, it turns out, she was right. Once he left, it was Rachel who presented me with all sorts of information about him. She had the goods all along, but I wouldn’t listen.”

  Everett tips his head, looking innocently inquisitive.

  “What kind of information?” I ask.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I turned a deaf ear to it afterwards, too. I was in shock to say the least. I had turned into a swindled old woman—something I never thought I’d be. But I’ve had my guard up ever since. And I’ll never entertain the notion of marriage ever again.”

  I clear my throat. “So you never saw him again after that day? Ever?”

  She glances to her watch and back toward the kitchen. “Would you look at that? It’s almost time for the dinner rush. If you’ll excuse me, I need to move along.” She jumps out of her seat and offers a sweet smile. “If you decide on the inn for your honeymoon, ask to speak to me directly. I would just love for the two of you to begin your journey in life right here on the lake. You won’t be sorry.” She takes off like a wildfire, and Everett and I lock eyes.

  “She never answered my question. Maybe she did see him again? Maybe she is the killer?”

  “You never know.” He glances back in the direction she took off in. “That level of agitation in my courtroom is always indicative of guilt.”

  “Ugh. I don’t want to believe it. I say we leave and let this poor woman enjoy her peaceful existence at the lake. She sure did have a good reason to off him.”

  “Maybe she didn’t. Maybe her daughter did?”

  I take a quick breath just as Everett’s phone bleats on the table.

  He glances at the screen and frowns.

  “Come here, Lemon. Let’s toast to life.” He pulls me in close, and Everett snaps a picture of the two of us holding up our bubbling mimosas with a gorgeous view of the lake behind us.

  Everett fidgets with his phone a moment as he shoots off a t
ext.

  “That was Noah asking if I had a minute. I told him we were busy.”

  “Everett!” A laugh bounces from me. “You are so very bad.”

  “I do believe the words you are so very good came from your lips not that long ago.”

  “Touché.” My cheeks heat ten degrees. “How do we go about speaking with Elaine’s daughter?”

  He glances at the growing crowd in the café as a waitress comes our way.

  “I have an idea,” he whispers.

  A young blonde comes up with a notepad and a pen.

  “Have you had time to peruse the menu?” She blinks at the two of us.

  “Actually, we have to run off,” Everett says, pulling a rather large bill out of his wallet and landing it onto the table. “For you.” The girl’s eyes grow as big as that lake. “You know, I went to school with Rachel Gilmore. Whatever happened to her?”

  “Rachel? Oh, she’s living in Ashford now. She’s Rachel Kane. I think she works in PR or something like that.”

  “That’s right.” Everett nods. “I heard the same thing.”

  Everett and I make our way back to the car, and this time it’s my phone that bleats.

  “It’s a text from Noah.”

  I read it quickly and groan.

  “Oh, Everett. We need to get to the B&B right away. Something is terribly wrong.”

  Chapter 13

  Thankfully, Everett and I manage to beat Noah to my mother’s B&B.

  We head on in and the ghost of Greer Giles is the first to greet us.

  “Oh, we’ve got trouble.” She gives a cheeky wink. And just as I’m about to pick up Everett’s hand so he can listen in, I realize he’s already holding my hand and my heart warms despite the impending doom Greer is spelling out.

  “What kind of trouble?” Everett asks as we slow down for a brief moment.

  “Miranda has herself a hottie,” Greer trills with glee. “A bona fide silver fox with a real tan and all of his original teeth right where they’re supposed to be!”

 

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